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 TEN GREAT RELIGIONS. Parti. An Essay in Comparative The- 
 ology. New Po/ntlar Edition. Crown 8vo, gilt top, ^2.00. 
 
 TEN GREAT RELIGIONS. Part II. Comparisons of all Religions. 
 
 Crown 8vo, gilt top, ^2.00. 
 COMMON SENSE IN RELIGION. A Series of Essays. i2mo, 
 
 J2.00. 
 MEMORIAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. i2mo, $2.00. 
 EVERY-DAY RELIGION. i2mo, $1.50. 
 
 EVENTS AND EPOCHS IN RELIGIOUS HISTORY. Being the 
 Substance of twelve Lectures delivered in the Lowell Institute, Bos- 
 ton. With Maps and Illustrations, izmo, $2. 00. 
 
 THE IDEAS OF THE APOSTLE PAUL. Translated into their Mod- 
 ern Equivalents. i2mo, $1.50. 
 
 SELF-CULTURE: Physical, Intellectual, Moral, and Spiritual. Lec- 
 tures. i2mo, $1.50. 
 
 EXOTICS. Poems translated from the French, German, and Italian, 
 by J. F. C. and L. C. i8mo, f i.oo. 
 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY, 
 Boston and New York.
 
 J A JWiloo'.-
 
 JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE 
 
 y 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY, DIARY AND 
 CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 EDWARD EVERETT HALE 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 
 9EftE Rtbcrstbe "pxvii, Canibrttiae 
 
 1891
 
 Copyright, 1891, 
 By HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A. 
 Electrotyped aud Printed by H. O. Houghton & Co.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 CHAPTER ^*®^ 
 
 I. Parentage 1 
 
 II. Newton H 
 
 III. The Latin School 2G 
 
 IV. Cambridge 3-1 
 
 V. Kentucky • . • . 50 
 
 VI. Life in Kentucky 66 
 
 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 VII. Mr. Clarke's Early Years 81 
 
 VIII. Journals and Letters. 1830-1840 ... 94 
 
 IX. The Church of the Disciples 135 
 
 X. Europe I'^l 
 
 XI. Meadville 186 
 
 XII. The Church of the Disciples. 1853 . . . 201 
 
 XIII. Anti-slavery 213 
 
 XIV. The Unitarian Church . , . . . .251 
 XV. The War 268 
 
 XVI. Education 292 
 
 XVII. Work in the Pulpit 308 
 
 XVIII. Varied Activities. 1865-1880 .... 323 
 
 XIX. Closing Years. 1881-1888 357 
 
 XX. The Man 389 
 
 XXI. The End ^^^ 
 
 Writings of James Freeman Clarke . . • • ^16 
 
 Index ^^^
 
 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAKENTAGE. 
 
 Magnolia, Mass., July 21, 1883. 
 
 It is just fifty years to-day since I preached my first 
 sermon in Bernard Whitman's church in Waltham. I 
 shall keep the anniversary by beginning the sketch of 
 my life, which my friends have thought may be inter- 
 esting. I have no remarkable events or adventures to 
 record. But I have lived in an important period ; have 
 known many eminent men and distinguished women; 
 have seen great changes in social life, in religious opin- 
 ion, in private morals and public manners. If I can 
 succeed in making a few suggestive pictures, or memory 
 sketches, it may be a gratification to my children and 
 friends, and possibly contribute matter for the future 
 historian of this period. 
 
 In looking back to the time, fifty years ago, when I 
 was about to begin my work in life, that which first 
 strikes me is this : I was then twenty-three ; and that 
 past twenty-three years seemed to me more eventful 
 and longer than the subsequent fifty appear now. I 
 believe I felt older then than I do now. I seemed to 
 myself to have gone through the round of human expe- 
 rience. I had read and thought, studied and medi- 
 tated, mingled in society, had friendships with men and 
 women. 
 
 What subsequent experiences can compare with those 
 of our first years, when we have just entered the uni-
 
 2 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 verse, canght our first glimpse of nature, been amazed 
 by the mystery of the hvinian mind, and made acquaint- 
 ance with poetry, romance, and some of the great clas- 
 sics of ancient and modern times ? The boy is full of 
 hope and eager expectation. The curtain is rising on 
 a stage where he looks for a wonderful drama. As 
 Schiller says, " The boy sets sail on the ocean of life 
 with a fleet of a thousand vessels ; the old man reaches 
 the shore at last rescued on a single plank." 
 
 Wordsworth's " Ode on the Intimations of Immor- 
 tality " contains a truth which our experience must 
 confirm. The germs of all that we are to be begin to 
 unfold in our childhood. Those shadowy recollections 
 are the master-lights of our after-being. The truths 
 which awake then never perish. The impressions then 
 made on the soul underlie all others, and determine 
 largely our future course. 
 
 My father, Samuel Clarke, was an only child. His fa- 
 ther, Samuel Clarke, had one sister (Hepzibah Clarke, 
 afterward Mrs. Swan), but no brother. Both were born 
 in Boston. My great-grandfather, Barnabas Clarke, was 
 born in Harwich, on Cape Cod, and was for some years 
 a shipmaster. Afterward he became a merchant in 
 Boston, marrying Hepzibah Barrett in 1748. 
 
 Barnabas Clarke was a lineal descendant of Thomas 
 Clarke, who is reported, by what Thacher calls " a well 
 received tradition " in Plymouth, to have been the mate 
 of the Mayflower, and '' the first who landed on Clarke's 
 Island" in Plymouth harbor. If so, he returned to 
 England with the vessel, for he came over as a settler 
 in the Anne, in July, 1623. He lived in Plymouth, Har- 
 wich, and Boston. He died in Plymouth, aged ninety- 
 eight, in the year 1697, and his grave and gravestone 
 may be seen on the summit of Burying-ground Hill. 
 
 My grandfather, Samuel Clarke, born in Boston in 
 1754, was at the Boston Latin School in 1766. At the 
 age of nineteen he was sailing as master and supercargo
 
 PARENTAGE. 3 
 
 of vessels belonging to his father, Barnabas Clarke, and 
 William Dennie. He was a man of ability, energy, and 
 determination. 
 
 He married, in 1778, Martha, daughter of Obadiah 
 Curtis. The same year he went as major of one of 
 Governor Hancock's regiments to Rhode Island, acting 
 in cooperation with the troops of La Fayette. The regi- 
 ment lay under canvas at Newport during the terrible 
 gale of August 12, 1778, long known as the " French 
 Storm." He here contracted disease of the lungs, of 
 which he died in 1780, in his house in School Street. 
 
 His widow long preserved his silk sash, helmet, and 
 military regimentals. These I used to see in the garret 
 of the house, where, as a child, I loved to rummage 
 among the high -heeled shoes, and smoke -jacks, and 
 other relics of the past. 
 
 THE CURTIS FAMILY. 
 
 My father's mother, who, after my grandfather 
 Clarke's death in 1780, married James Freeman in 
 1788, was the daughter of Obadiah Curtis and Martha 
 Buckminster, of Framingham. Obadiah Curtis was a 
 lineal descendant of William Curtis, who emigrated 
 from Nazing, Essex County, England, in the ship Lyon, 
 which reached Boston, September 16, 1632. His wife 
 was sister of «Tohn Eliot, the apostle to the Indians, 
 who also came from Kazing. 
 
 The descendants of William Curtis are numerous, 
 and many of them are still living in Boston and Rox- 
 bury. . . , 
 
 Obadiah Curtis probably owed his rise in the world 
 to the energy and ability of his wife, who belonged to 
 the somewhat remarkable family of Buckminsters of 
 Framingham. 
 
 After their marriage they went to Boston ; and, to 
 help her husband, Mrs. Curtis opened a shop for the
 
 4 AU TOE lOGRAPH Y. 
 
 sale of English goods at what is now the corner of 
 Bromfield. Street and Washington Street. Having ac- 
 cumulated a competence Mrs. Curtis and her husband 
 moved to Newton in 1807, bought two or three acres of 
 the estate of my father, who was their grandson, and 
 built a house in which they ended their days. . . . 
 
 Obadiah and Martha Curtis had four children, Anna, 
 Martha, Sarah, and Thomas. Anna married the Eev. 
 Jonathan Homer ; and it was said of her that if she 
 heard of any family in the parish who needed better 
 food than they could afford to buy, she would send to 
 them the joint from the spit in her own kitchen ; and 
 her husband, good man, meditating on Erasmus and 
 Beza, would make his dinner of boiled potatoes, and 
 never miss the meat. 
 
 Martha, the second, was my grandmother, a woman 
 of strong will and quick temper, a little inclined to 
 have her own way. But she was affectionate to those 
 she loved, and as generous to the poor as my aunt 
 Homer. Every Sunday she was driven from Newton 
 to Boston, between six and seven miles, in the ancient 
 carriage, that she might attend services at her husband's 
 church. King's Chapel. This was in summer, which 
 Dr. and Mrs. Freeman always passed on the old estate 
 at Newton. During three or four months of winter, 
 they lived in Boston. My great-aunt, Sally Curtis, the 
 third daughter, was of a more poetic nature than the 
 others. In her small collection of books, I recollect 
 Shenstone and other poets, her favorite passages care- 
 fully underlined, after the manner of that day. In the 
 garden borders she diligently cultivated flowers which 
 delighted my youthful eyes. 
 
 Thomas Curtis was a merchant in Boston, and a ship- 
 owner, doing a large business. He lived on the highest 
 point of Somerset Street, next to the house of his 
 partner, Caleb Loring. He had five sons and three 
 daughters, which made his house a very entertaining
 
 PARENTAGE. 5 
 
 place to visit. Every Christmas they had a family fes- 
 tival prolonged till late at night, at which the Lorings, 
 Stevensons, and other relatives, were present, and the 
 conversation was always bright and entertaining. 
 
 The eldest son, Charles Felham Curtis, is well re- 
 membered as a distinguished member of the Boston 
 Bar, and very brilliant in conversation. 
 
 Another son, Thomas Buckminster, was first an offi- 
 cer in the navy, then master of merchant vessels, and 
 finally merchant and banker. 
 
 James Freeman Curtis, the third son, was a hand- 
 some and high-spirited youth. He was a midshipman 
 on the Chesapeake, when she was taken by the Shan- 
 non, off Boston, but had his revenge by being an 
 officer of the Constitution when she took the Cyane 
 and Levant. Afterward he commanded an expedition 
 against the pirates in the West Indies, and took by as- 
 sault one of their strongholds. He spent some weeks 
 at our house in Newton, when I was a child, and built 
 for us a small brig and a three-masted man-of-war, 
 about four feet long, which made a splendid appearance 
 riding at anchor on our fish-pond. 
 
 Stories of sea-life made a part of the education of 
 Boston boys sixty years ago, even of those who did not 
 go to sea themselves. . . . 
 
 My father, Dr. Samuel Clarke, was born in Boston, in 
 1779, in a house in School Street, which belonged to 
 his father, who died when his son was a year old. My 
 father, like my grandfather Clarke, myself, and my 
 brothers, went to the Boston Latin School. He ought 
 to have gone to college, for he had a taste for study ; 
 but his property was in the hands of his guardian, who 
 refused to advance money for his education. He there- 
 fore entered the store of Joseph Coolidge, importer of 
 British goods. About 1800, he went into that business 
 with Joseph Coolidge, Jr. In 1804, he obtained pos- 
 session of his property, and returned to Newton, where
 
 6 A UTOBIOGliAFII Y. 
 
 he built a house in a beautiful situation.^ Next year 
 he married Rebecca Parker Hull, daughter of William 
 Hull, a bright young girl, just out of Mrs. Rawson's 
 school. They were well adapted to each other, being 
 counterparts in disposition. The picture of my father 
 by Malbone represents him as a young man of fine 
 features and intelligent face. He was reserved and 
 silent, while my mother was very sociable. Wherever 
 she went she made acquaintances. She could not go a 
 mile or two from home without bringing back a history 
 of curious people she had met, and strange adventures 
 she had encountered. She lived in many places, — in 
 Newton, Mass. ; in Boston ; in Vermont ; in New Hamp- 
 shire ; in Chicago, Illinois ; Newport, R. I. ; and in 
 Italy. She wrote to me from Rome, " I am a Roman 
 citizen ; I know it, for I have just paid my tax-bill." 
 Everywhere she made herself at home, and found 
 friends. Everywhere she took an interest in the un- 
 fortunate, and exerted herself energetically in their 
 behalf. 
 
 Having one or two old colored people as pensioners 
 she was led to think that there ought to be a home in 
 Boston for old colored women. It was at the begin- 
 ning of the Civil War, and many of us thought that the 
 attempt to establish such a home would be more suc- 
 cessful if postponed. But my mother was no tempo- 
 rizer. She made me bring up the subject at one of 
 the Wednesday evening meetings of the Church of the 
 Disciples ; asked Mr. Grimes, the minister of the col- 
 ored people's church, to be present, and to state the 
 facts within his knowledge to show the need of sucl. 
 an institution ; interested Governor Andrew, Dr. and 
 Mrs. Samuel Cabot, and others ; and by their help the 
 institution was established, and the old colored women 
 were installed in their comfortable home. My mother 
 
 1 This house was not long after bought by Dr. and Mrs. Freeman, 
 and this was their home as long as they lived.
 
 PARENTAGE. 7 
 
 said to lier daughter in her last sickness, " Sarah, I wish 
 carriages to be sent to take the old colored women to 
 my funeral. I think it will be a great entertainment 
 to them. They do not have many amusements." 
 
 Two years after their marriage, my father and mother 
 moved to a farm in Maidstone, Vermont, near Canada, 
 situated on an interval of the Connecticut River. My 
 father's object was to raise merino sheep, the wool of 
 which was very valuable. The young couple drove all 
 the way in a sort of buggy wagon, drawn by two horses, 
 harnessed tandem. It is said that their carriage was 
 the first that ever passed through the White Mountain 
 Notch.i jyjy mother had with her an infant, only a year 
 old. The house was lonely, two or three miles distant 
 from any other. It was hard to get any domestics. 
 The bears and wolves killed the sheep. The experi- 
 ment was unsuccessful, and in a year or two my parents 
 returned to JSTewton. The best thing they brought back 
 from Vermont was a ghost story, Vvrhich my mother 
 used to tell with much spirit. Their only domestic, a 
 young woman, was taken sick, and died. My father 
 had to go some distance to find a carpenter to make the 
 cofiin, and my mother was left alone with her infant. 
 Evening came on, and my father had not returned. All 
 at once an unexpected knock was heard. It was unex- 
 pected, for few visitors ever found their way to the 
 house. My mother went to the outer door, but there 
 was no one there, or anywhere in sight. She returned 
 to the sitting-room, and directly the knocking came 
 again, louder than before, and the door into the room 
 where the body of the young woman was lying slowly 
 opened. My mother, thoroughly frightened, seized her 
 child, and ran out of the house, with the wild purpose 
 of going to the nearest neighbor. As she went round 
 the house, she heard the knocking again, close to her. 
 Looking back she saw a large merino ram butting 
 ^ That is, the first pleasure carriage.
 
 8 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 against the house; which, being slightly built, was 
 shaken by the shock. 
 
 My father was a man of varied talents. He was able 
 to excel in so many directions that he never could limit 
 himself to one. He was inventor, architect, artist, me- 
 chanic, physician, lawyer, chemist, wool-raiser. But no 
 sooner had he succeeded in starting an enterprise than 
 he lost his interest in it, and wished to do something 
 else. His pleasure was in originating and inventing, 
 not in executing. But he had a very practical know- 
 ledge in many arts. He understood machinery, and built 
 mills on new plans. He painted portraits in oils, and 
 made effective sketches with the pencil. In Vermont, 
 he presided with dignity as a judge. He was one of 
 the first, if not the first, in this country to whiten wax, 
 to grind drugs by machinery, sublimate calomel, and 
 manufacture lunar caustic, tartaric acid, and other chem- 
 icals. As a physician, he anticipated the present belief 
 in the relative uselessness of drugs. He gave very little 
 medicine, and depended in his practice on the influence 
 of proper food, air, exercise, and mental conditions. He 
 brought hope and courage to the sick-room, and his 
 patients were his friends. His temper was singularly 
 placid, and he had the rare gift of perfect equanimity. 
 He was a man of few words, very reserved, and my 
 mother carried on most of the conversation. He was 
 as fond of solitude as she of society. I find in myself 
 both tendencies. I can be very happy alone. When 
 taking a walk, or writing, or studying, I prefer entire 
 solitude. Thus I love to write my sermons before 
 breakfast, in the silence of the early day. This I in- 
 herit from my father. But, like my mother, I enjoy 
 society, and love to talk. Dearly as I love nature, hu- 
 manity has a greater charm for me. Landing once on 
 Tower Stairs in a dense and dirty fog, I found myself 
 filled with a sudden exhilaration. I sought to analyze 
 the feeling. Why should I be so pleased at arriving in
 
 PARENTAGE. 9 
 
 London ? There was no one there I wished to see, 
 scarcely any one whom I knew. At last I discovered 
 that ray pleasure came because I found myself in the 
 midst of so many human beings. And though there 
 wa§ in London extreme misery, and much of it, yet, of 
 necessity, the joy of life must much predominate. 
 
 My father took pleasure in the details of work, in- 
 vented the machinery for his mills, understood the 
 properties of iron, steel, wood, stone. He had a fine 
 astronomical telescope, through which, when I was a 
 very little boy, he showed me the rings of Saturn. He 
 took an interest in science and its discoveries. Before 
 phosphorus matches came, and while we still depended 
 on flint, steel, and tinder-box, he lighted his candles by 
 a jet of hydrogen thrown on platina sponge. An old 
 man, who had been my father's foreman during many 
 years, said to me, as we stood beside his coffin : " When 
 your father talked with carpenters they thought he 
 must be of their trade. It was the same with black- 
 smiths, or carriage-makers, or masons. He seemed to 
 know every man's trade as well as the mechanic him- 
 self." 
 
 But notwithstanding these multifarious gifts and at- 
 tainments, and though he was a very hard worker all 
 his life, as well as economical in his habits, he never 
 acquired a competence. 
 
 In fact, the estate which he inherited from his father 
 was gradually lost by various disasters. Shortly before 
 his death, a fire destroyed the chemical works and 
 mills in which he had invested most of his remaining 
 property. His insurance had just expired, and the loss 
 was total. But his equanimity did not fail him. The 
 fire was in the night, and I did not arrive at the place 
 until everything was burned to the ground. The fire- 
 men had gone, and I found my father, alone, gazing at 
 the ruins. When he saw me, he simply said, with a 
 grave smile : " We may call this, I suppose, the aborai-
 
 10 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 nation of desolation." This was all his comment. 
 When my mother found that the burning of the chem- 
 ical works had left my father without property, she 
 determined to do something to support the family her- 
 self. She hired a house in Ashburton Place, Boston, 
 and took boarders. Her friends assured her that no- 
 thing could be made by keeping boarders ; but she was 
 hopeful ; and though for some time she found it diffi- 
 cult to let her rooms, she finally succeeded. She had 
 among her boarders those who became her warm friends. 
 Among them was Jared Sparks, the historian ; Mr. and 
 Mrs. Devens and their children, one of whom is General 
 Devens ; the three daughters of Dr. Nathaniel Peabody, 
 Miss Elizabeth P. Peabody, Miss Mary Peabody, after- 
 wards Mrs. Horace Mann, and Miss Sophia Peabody, 
 afterwards Mrs. Nathaniel Hawthorne. Horace Mann 
 was also a boarder, as was Mr. Edward S. Eand. 
 
 I do not know that our family were ever happier 
 than in those days. We were all poor, but all who 
 could were doing something to support themselves. 
 My sister gave lessons in drawing. Two of my brothers 
 were doing what they could. My eldest brother Sam 
 was confined to his bed by rheumatism. But though a 
 great sufferer, he was always cheerful, and when we 
 assembled in his room in the evening, he was the most 
 entertaining member of the group. 
 
 After my grandfather Freeman's death,^ my mother 
 gave up her boarding-house, and returned to Newton to 
 take care of my grandmother Freeman in her declining 
 years. 
 
 1 November 14, 1835.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 NEWTON. 
 
 The town of Kewton,^ in which I passed the earliest 
 years of my life, and which was my real home until I 
 went to Kentucky in 1833, was a curious and interest- 
 ing New England community of the post-Eevolutionary 
 period. It was thinly settled by farmers, market gar- 
 deners, and others, who were neither poor nor rich, but 
 able to support themselves and their families by con- 
 stant labor. They were industrious, frugal, honest, and 
 conservative in their habits and opinions. Like most 
 of the people in the country towns of Massachusetts, 
 they were Federalists, having a great horror of Jeffer- 
 son and Madison. They went to church regularly, at- 
 tending without fail the two services in the parish 
 church. To keep the Puritan Sabbath and go to church 
 twice a day were the sacraments of their religion. 
 Beyond this there was little religious activity of any 
 kind. Revivals were unknown ; Sunday-schools had 
 not been invented ; Bible societies and missionary soci- 
 eties were in their infancy. The towns were divided 
 into parishes, and each parish had its Congregational 
 church, supported by taxation. The Congregational 
 Church was the established church maintained by law. 
 Every inhabitant of the town, no matter what his faith 
 or his unbelief, was taxed to support the church of his 
 parish. After a while the law was altered so as to 
 allow him '' to sign off," that is, to make a formal de- 
 claration of his intention to pay his tax to some other 
 1 This chapter of the Autobiography -was begun July 3, 1884.
 
 12 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 society in the town.^ Ours was the East Parish of 
 Newton, and during all my childhood my great-uncle, 
 Dr. Jonathan Homer, was its sole pastor. The only 
 other religious society in the large region which con- 
 stituted the parish was a small Baptist church. This 
 was placed by the side of a pond, where the immersions 
 took place. But these were infrequent ; the society 
 was not aggressive, and they were looked upon much 
 as we should have regarded a body of Italians or a 
 colony of Portuguese who might have settled among 
 us. Their ways were not our ways, nor their thoughts 
 our thoughts. We little dreamed that the time would 
 come when a " History of Newton " would be written, 
 chiefly occupied with biographies of Baptist preachers 
 and professors, and in which the Baptist Theological 
 School would be described as the most important insti- 
 tution of the town. But in my boyhood this was all in 
 the future. We never thought of going anywhere but 
 to the parish church. There the population assembled 
 every Sunday, except in cases of severe sickness. Dr. 
 Homer mounted the pulpit, and proceeded to carry on 
 the service in a way altogether his own. He was a 
 kind-hearted, good man, and much loved by the people. 
 They sat quietly while he harangued, though they could 
 not possibly have understood much of what he was say- 
 ing. But that made no difference. Their duty was to 
 go to church, and sit there for an hour or two, and they 
 did it faithfully. It was not their duty to understand 
 what they heard. Dr. Jonathan Homer was one of the 
 most absent-minded of men ; more like Dominie Samp- 
 son than any one else I have known. If he met you 
 on the road he would begin to say aloud what he was 
 meditating. Por example, he might begin, without 
 preface, thus : " Why Beza should have given that ren- 
 dering of Corinthians I cannot say. Possibly he may 
 have found it in Erasmus, though I have not been able 
 1 Or, eventually, to some other society in the State.
 
 NEWTON. 13 
 
 to trace it in either of the early editions. Sir Isaac 
 Coffin has promised to send me the first Geneva ; but 
 Tyndall woukl be better." Having made these cursory 
 remarks he would pass on. He was very faithful in 
 pastoral visiting, and if he found any one in sickness 
 or trouble he would forget Beza, and give him some 
 comforting words of the Lord Christ. Of a summer 
 day he might often be seen going on a gentle trot along 
 the road, his gingham dressing-gown floating out behind 
 him like a banner. He would turn into the house of a 
 parishioner, and if he found no one in the sitting-room, 
 would go into the kitchen, all unconscious of any im- 
 propriety. 
 
 The Congregational ministers in each parish, being 
 supported by taxation of all the property in the parish, 
 were very independent. They could not be displaced 
 except for some serious offense, which was a very rare 
 event. They were all graduates of some college, and 
 learned according to the scholarship of their day. Their 
 practical independence did not produce indolence or 
 indifference to their duty. But it often developed ec- 
 centricity. Every clergyman was a sort of king in his 
 parish. If his tendencies were toward self-assertion, 
 he might become arbitrary and domineering ; if un- 
 checked by regard for public opinion and fear of ridicule, 
 he might develop certain oddities of speech and be- 
 havior. Many of them remained in the same parish for 
 more than half a century, and christened, married, and 
 buried two or three generations. They directed educa- 
 tion in the schools, guided the political course of their 
 parishioners in the town meeting, were an authority to 
 be consulted in practical as well as religious and moral 
 questions. They introduced improvements in agricul- 
 ture and gardening, and communicated to their flocks 
 whatever important discoveries they met with in read- 
 ing their newspaper, or heard of at the ministers' 
 monthly meeting. They dined one day with the judge
 
 14 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 or the governor, and the next day with the farmer or 
 mechanic, and thus became a useful medium of com- 
 munication between different classes of society. They 
 were the natural mediators between rich and educated, 
 and plain people. There were no poor and no ignorant 
 people. 
 
 During the summer months we paid and received 
 visits. We drove over in the old family carriage to see 
 Dr. Morse or Dr. Spring in Watertown, Governor Gore 
 and Theodore Lyman in Waltham, Gorham Parsons 
 and Mr, Pomeroy in Brighton, Mrs. Swan in Dorches- 
 ter, Jonathan Russell and Barney Smith in Milton, 
 Colonel Perkins and the Buckminsters in Brookline. 
 These little trips were very attractive to a child. Our 
 own home, though large and comfortable, had none of 
 the elegance which some of these old mansions dis- 
 played. My father's house was also in Newton, not 
 far off, and I was a great deal there. When I was a 
 small child, my parents lived close by, in my aunt 
 Sally Curtis's house ; and so I was with my brothers 
 and sister almost as much as if we had been in the 
 same home. My grandmother Freeman was always 
 borrowing the children of her friends. They loved to 
 come to Newton to gather raspberries, blackberries, 
 and cherries, to dig in the garden, fish in the pond, ride 
 the horses with or without a saddle, and wander into 
 the woods when the chestnuts and hickory nuts began 
 to fall. To shoot birds was not allowed on our place. 
 There was no gun abo;it the house ; and the squirrels 
 and robins had their way, and did as they liked. We 
 had so many cherry-trees in full bearing every summer 
 that there were enough for the birds and the children 
 too. I never condescended to eat cherries which had 
 been picked ; but when I wanted them I climbed to the 
 top of the tree, where they were the ripest and best, 
 and sat eating, with the robins eating around me. And 
 in those days the peach-trees bore as plentifully, and
 
 NEWTON. 15 
 
 the peaches strewed the ground under our feet. As 
 for the blackberries, there was a great heap of stones in 
 one of the pastures, which had accumulated by being 
 carried there from the cultivated fields, and this stone- 
 heap was overrun with the best blackberry vines. So 
 that we children could say with Marvell, — 
 
 " What wondrous life is this I lead ! 
 Ripe apples drop about my head ; 
 The nectarine and curious peach 
 Into my hands themselves do reach. ' ' 
 
 An old-fashioned garden, full of fruit, berries, and nut- 
 trees, teaches children a love for nature. It brings 
 them naturally into confidential relations with the vital 
 forces working up from the soil and down from the 
 sky. Nature, a tender parent, takes the little ones in 
 her arms, as Jesus did, and introduces them into her 
 kingdom of heaven. So a child associates what he 
 hears of God with what he sees of Him in sunshine 
 and cloud, the softly approaching dawn and the gently 
 departing day. One of the hymns which I heard in 
 early childhood had these lines : — 
 
 " Who spread the ocean round 
 About the solid land, 
 And made the rising ground 
 Above the waters stand." 
 
 As our residence was so high that we could see the dis- 
 tant line of ocean on one side, and the pale blue horizon 
 of far-ofE hills on the other, I supposed, in my sim- 
 plicity, that this circle of blue was the all-surrounding 
 ocean, and that all the solid land was contained in 
 what met my eyes. When quite young, Scott's poem, 
 " The Lady of the Lake," was read aloud in my hear- 
 ing, and its pictures took possession of my imagination. 
 One day the family coach and driver came to the door 
 to take some of the household to visit their cousins, the 
 Buckminsters of Framingham. I had heard of a lake 
 in Framingham, and asked if the '' Lady of the Lake "
 
 16 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 lived there. Some one laughingly replied, " Certainly ! 
 Miss Buckminster is the ' Lady of the Lake.' " I 
 therefore expected to see the fair Ellen Douglas in her 
 boat, and when we came to what is now called Cochitu- 
 ate Lake, I looked through the carriage window with 
 eager expectation, sure that the little skiff would ap- 
 pear shooting out from behind a headland. Thus a 
 child enriches his little world by putting into it all he 
 hears or reads, and has these pictures all about him. 
 
 Until I was ten years old, I received most of my tui- 
 tion from my grandfather Freeman.^ After breakfast 
 each m.orning, he taught my elder brother and sister 
 and me Latin, Greek, and mathematics. I did not 
 know at the time what a wonderful teacher he was. 
 He anticipated, sixty years ago, the best methods of 
 modern instruction. In the first place he made our 
 studies interesting to us. Next he removed all unneces- 
 sary difficulties, and only required us to learn what was 
 essential. The Latin Grammar which we studied was 
 only twenty or thirty pages in length. It was called 
 " Latin Accidence," and contained the Parts of Speech, 
 the Declensions and Conjugations, and a few of the 
 principal rules of Syntax. The larger grammar was 
 not to be committed to memory, but to be used like a 
 dictionary, for consultation. The more important Latin 
 
 1 Almost my first recollection as a child is of one •who seemed to me 
 then to be old, who was the friend of us all. In the morning he 
 worked in his garden, and we played by his side ; in the forenoon, 
 while he read and wrote, we children studied our lessons under his 
 guidance ; as the twilight darkened, he gathered us around him to 
 tell during successive evenings the story of Ulysses, of Sir Huon, of 
 Kehama and Thalaba, As we grew older, we learned to understand 
 the quality of his benignity, his generosity, his manly independence, 
 his sagacious wisdom, his purity, humility, and loyalty to all truth 
 and right. Surely those who have come in contact with such an influ- 
 ence may well love to come together, and for an hour commimicate 
 to each other what they remember of this remarkable life. — J. F. C. 
 at Centennial of James Freeman.
 
 NEWTON. 17 
 
 words we learned by heart from a " Vocabulary," and 
 the more important Greek words from a small book 
 called " Greek Primitives." Thus provided, we imme- 
 diately began to translate some interesting story in 
 Nepos or Ovid. He kept up our interest by talking to 
 us about it, explaining the difficult passages, and when 
 it was in verse repeating it so as to bring out the 
 rhythm and melody. When we came to a word we did 
 not understand, he would tell us the meaning, but re- 
 quired us to repeat it again and again till he was sure 
 we remembered it. To those who thought that this 
 method made study too easy, and that it did not dis- 
 cipline the mind, he answered, " The study of a for- 
 eign language can never be made too easy. There are 
 always difficulties enough in it. But what mental dis- 
 cipline is there in turning over the pages of a diction- 
 ary ? I tell these children the meaning of the word, 
 just as the dictionary does ; but I save them the time 
 lost in the merely manual operation of turning over the 
 leaves. Eeal discipline comes to the mind when it 
 acts, not languidly, but with its full energy, and it acts 
 with energy only when it is interested in what it does. 
 Therefore, as soon as I am unable to keep up their 
 interest in what they do, I turn their attention to some- 
 thing else, or send them out to play." The excellence 
 of this method may be seen in the fact that before I 
 was ten years old I had read a good deal of Ovid, some 
 odes of Horace, a little of Virgil, the Gospel of Mat- 
 thew in Greek, and had gone as far as Cubic Equations 
 in algebra. I also had read through the " History of 
 the United States," Hume's " England," Eobertson's 
 " Scotland," Ferguson's and Gibbon's " Rome." I can 
 repeat to-day, after sixty years, many passages of Ovid 
 and at least three odes of Horace, which I committed 
 to memory before I was ten. Nor was I aware that I 
 was doing a great deal, for the study was made almost 
 as entertaining as play. Problems in arithmetic and
 
 18 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 algebra were treated as a kind of game. I once met 
 with the term "trigonometry," and asked my grand- 
 father the meaning of the word. " Trigonometry," said 
 he, " is a wonderful science. It is all about trian- 
 gles." " What is a triangle ? " said I. " I will show 
 you," he replied, and proceeded to draw on a slate a 
 number of triangles, showing me that each had three 
 sides and three angles, and explaining that if we knew 
 three of these (one being a side), we could find the 
 other three. He told me that by that law we could 
 tell the distances of the planets and the moon. Then 
 he took me out upon the lawn and showed me a tall 
 tree, and explained how by trigonometry I could tell 
 the height of the tree. Thereupon I made myself a 
 little quadrant out of a shingle, and proceeded to meas- 
 ure the height of the trees and houses around me. 
 Though the actual results were probably far from accu- 
 rate, yet by this little experiment I obtained a very 
 clear notion of the great foundation laws of mathemati- 
 cal astronomy. And I learned this in play. Such 
 studies left plenty of time for outdoor exercise. With 
 my brothers and cousins I learned to ride on horseback 
 with and without a saddle, to swim, to skate, to make 
 bows and arrows and slings, and shoot with them, and 
 to practice all the other athletic sports which boys love. 
 We went to find distant ponds and rivers in which 
 to catch perch and pickerel, and we even rediscovered 
 the speckled trout in some brooks whence they had 
 been thought to have disappeared long before. What 
 happy hours we passed roaming through the woods, 
 clambering over ledges of gray rock, or floating in 
 boats on the omnipresent Charles River which nearly 
 encircled Newton ! Amid these studies and amuse- 
 ments there was still time enough for reading. First, 
 when young, we had Miss Edgeworth, — her stories not 
 being bound together under the forbidding title of 
 " Parents' Assistant," but in separate tales, each to be
 
 NEWTON. 19 
 
 read by itself and read again, — " Simple Susan," 
 " The Little Mercliants," " Old Foz," " Eton Montem," 
 etc. Then, too, Walter Scott was writing his novels, 
 and whenever a new one appeared, it was brought from 
 Boston, and read aloud in the family circle. I recollect 
 that when " Ivanhoe " came, I eagerly seized it, and 
 became so absorbed in the story of the tournament that 
 I hid under a bed, and refused to hear the call to study 
 till I had seen the Black Knight and Ivanhoe trium- 
 phant in the lists of Ashby-de-la-Zouche. I still think 
 that there are no novels like those, — so full of charac- 
 ter, adventure, picturesque incident, and with such an 
 atmosphere of sunshine and good health throughout. 
 Under that magic pen history became living, and the 
 past was present. We were the crusaders, ?/;e the out- 
 laws, tve the hesitating heroes of the Waverley novels, 
 who always seemed in an interesting dilemma, not quite 
 able to decide between the two ways. Each Waverley 
 novel was a new joy. And so Scott's poems were full 
 of delight and cheer. Their lyric flow, their manly 
 tone, their generous sentiment lifted us into a blessed 
 region of ideal beauty. I remember when I was at the 
 Latin School, I spent my half-holiday one Saturday 
 reading *' Marmion," for the first time. As the sun was 
 setting I reached the end of the poem, and in the fare- 
 well verses read with astonishment these lines : — 
 
 " To thee, dear schoolboy, whom my lay 
 Has cheated of thy hour of play, 
 Light task and merry holiday I " 
 
 and it seemed as if Scott were close beside me, talking 
 to me in person. * 
 
 There was an old chestnut-tree in the pasture, in 
 which I had arranged a seat, and there I often sat, sur- 
 rounded by the thick shady branches, and read the 
 most interesting books I could discover in my grand- 
 father's library. As this consisted largely of books of
 
 20 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 theology, Latin and Greek classics, or learned works in 
 Spanish, Italian, and Portuguese, I found it difficult to 
 suit myself. There was " Rasselas," which pretended 
 to be a story, but was only a long string of moralizing. 
 But among some numbers of " The Monthly Antho- 
 logy " I found the translation, by Sir William Jones, of 
 the Hindoo play " Sakoontala," and there was an old edi- 
 tion of Shakespeare in a number of duodecimo volumes. 
 The tradition in the family was, that these volumes 
 came ashore when the English man-of-war Somerset 
 was wrecked on Cape Cod. Some of the volumes were 
 missing, but this on the whole was an advantage, for 
 it gave a certain aspect of infinity to the author. For 
 aught I knew there might be a hundred more plays of 
 Shakespeare. And as we think more of the lost books 
 of Tacitus than of those we possess, because the con- 
 tents of these unread pages fill the imagination with 
 conjectures, so the plays of Shakespeare which I did 
 not have made an ideal penumbra of beauty round 
 those I was reading. There was also a volume of " Ele- 
 gant Extracts " *■ in verse, by Vicesimus Knox, which 
 contained very good reading. From that volume I 
 learned something of Spenser and Dryden, Swift and 
 Pope. I even found some amusement in " Bailey's 
 English Dictionary," which often gave little historic 
 and biographic anecdotes about the words, expatiating 
 in a delightful way while illustrating their meaning. I 
 learned from it a little of everything, and can still re- 
 peat the names and descriptions of the ^' Ten honorable 
 Ordinaries " in Heraldry as I there learned them for 
 my amusement. It also contained tables for making 
 Latin hexameters by a mechanical*process ; and other 
 like matters, which are far below the dignity of a mod- 
 ern dictionary. 
 
 I confess to a weakness for such old-fashioned text- 
 books, which condescend a little to the infirmities of 
 beginners. Schoolbooks now are composed by scholars
 
 NEWTON. 21 
 
 who wish to show off their learning to other scholars, 
 and who scorn what is elementary. A school treatise 
 on algebra is composed as if intended for profound 
 mathematicians. A Latin grammar prepared for boys 
 ten years old goes into the mysteries of philology. A 
 new edition of Virgil shows that the editor has ran- 
 sacked all the studies on etymology and syntax in order 
 to make a show of recondite learning in his foot-notes. 
 How much better for boys the old Delphin editions of 
 the classics, which, fortunately for me, were still in 
 use in my days ! There the words were arranged in the 
 margin in the order of construction, and the foot-notes 
 gave us explanations which made the matter clear. 
 And at the end what a copious index, which gave us 
 words and phrases ! Besides this we had other helps, 
 such as the " Gradus ad Parnassum," and for some 
 books an interlined translation. Instead of the modern 
 astronomies which bristle with mathematical formulas, 
 we had " The Young Gentleman's Astronomy," in which 
 the author announces that it is written,^" not to advance 
 learning, but to assist learners," and boldly declares his 
 intention to begin at the beginning. 
 
 The English classics in Dr. Freeman's library were 
 of the Queen Anne era. Thus I became quite familiar 
 with the " Spectator " and " Guardian," and writers of 
 that period. If we had not many books to read, we 
 possessed some of the best. It did us no harm to read 
 over again and again " Paradise Lost," Pope's " Essay on 
 Man," " The Vicar of Wakefield," " Robinson Crusoe," 
 and " Gulliver's Tra,vels." The poems of Prior, Gay, 
 and Peter Pindar were also in the Freeman library, in 
 old editions. In my good aunt Sally Curtis's rooms I 
 found some of the novels popular in her time : " Ce- 
 cilia " and " Evelina," by Miss Burney ; " The Scottish 
 Chiefs ; " " Thaddeus of Warsaw ; " with Thomson's 
 " Seasons ; " Falconer's " Shipwreck ; " and Shenstone's 
 poems.
 
 22 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 I am glad that I early came to know and love Pope. 
 I obtained his complete works as a prize when at the 
 Latin School, and in the same way came into possession 
 of Johnson's " Lives of the Poets," and the poems of 
 Scott, Burns, and Cowper. I am indebted to my aunt 
 Swan for one source of pleasure and culture. When I 
 •was a child, recovering from a long illness, she brought 
 to the house for my amusement the large engravings 
 from Hogarth, and a folio volume of engravings from 
 the Orleans Gallery. 
 
 It is an advantage to a child to grow up among hills, 
 for then Nature makes a perpetual framework around 
 him for his thoughts. The scenery blends with all he 
 does, and its calm beauty gives dignity and serenity 
 to every emotion. The landscape holds him in its arms 
 like a mother, and caresses him with its tender charm 
 at every hour. Our thoughts are at last so associated 
 with hills and the wide horizon that when we go to 
 live on a level plain, or amid the streets of a city, we 
 suffer from nos^lgia. We miss the sweeping outlines 
 of nature, the rolling uplands, the deep silent woods, 
 the far resounding sea. Mr. Emerson, in his " Nature," 
 well describes how the orator bred in the fields and 
 among hills draws inspiration long after from the 
 memories of his childhood, and how the sights and 
 sounds of Nature pass into his speech. 
 
 My grandfather Freeman's house, where I lived, was 
 on high land, with a horizon line of ocean in the dis- 
 tance to the northeast, and the blue hills of Weston at 
 the northwest. My grandfather Hull's home, a mile or 
 two away, stood above a valley, through which ran a 
 strong cold stream of water, tumbling in a little cascade 
 out of a deep pond. His was a farm containing some 
 three hundred acres, much of it being a wild wood, 
 and a part low meadow land, with stately elm-trees 
 here and there. The house was a sort of Liberty 
 Hall, where people came and went at their will and
 
 NEWTON. 23 
 
 did as they liked. Both my grandfather and grand- 
 mother Hull were in their dispositions largely hospita- 
 ble, and this habit of hospitality had been increased by 
 their having lived so many years at Detroit, on the 
 frontier, where, as in all new countries, it is the custom 
 to keep an open house and to receive all comers. The 
 poverty and prudence of New England people prevented 
 such a custom from prevailing among them, and my 
 grandfather Hull's house was the only one I remember, 
 as a boy, where the doors seemed always to stand open, 
 literally and figuratively. As my grandfather had lived 
 somewhat abroad, and had been connected with various 
 families through the Union, strangers would often ar- 
 rive, bringing letters of introduction from remote re- 
 gions. Among these, I remember foreigners with hard 
 names, Italian and French gentlemen, who would be- 
 come members of the family for many days or weeks, 
 and then depart, and be heard of no more. Meantime, 
 while these visitors occupied the rooms above, the 
 great kitchen below was commonly full of another class, 
 who made themselves equally at home. A sort of peo- 
 ple who would now be called tramps were generally 
 there, ready to eat their dinner, and when night came 
 find some place to sleep in Judge Fuller's old malt- 
 house. Also the Sam Lawsons of the region would 
 often be found sitting in General Hull's kitchen, giv- 
 ing out the village gossip, and relating the news of the 
 neighborhood. 
 
 When I read " Oldtown Folks," I was satisfied that 
 Old town meant JSfetv town, and that the scene was laid 
 in Newton, at my grandfather Hull's place. The 
 author, in describing the good grandmother's kitchen, 
 was evidently giving an account of my grandmother 
 Hull's kitchen. I once met Mrs. Stowe at Governor 
 Claflin's, whose residence stands exactly where General 
 Hull's house stood, and I asked her to say frankly if 
 that very spot were not the scene of " Oldtown Folks."
 
 24 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 She made no satisfactory reply to this question, and no- 
 thing will convince me that some traditions of the old 
 Hull place did not reach her. It is too exact an account 
 to be a mere coincidence. 
 
 How all the visitors, retainers, and hangers-on were 
 supported is a question difficult to answer. My grand- 
 father's means were very modest. He had only a small 
 income beside the produce of his farm. But most of 
 what was eaten in parlor and kitchen came from his 
 garden and fields. 
 
 My uncle Abraham, General Hull's only son, was 
 killed at the battle of Lundy's Lane, one of the sharp- 
 est conflicts of the war of 1812. He was captain in the 
 United States Fourth, a famous regiment, was bayonet- 
 ed in advance of the line, while leading a charge, and 
 was buried where he fell, as a mark of distinction for 
 his signal gallantry. Years after, in visiting the place, 
 I was shown the spot by an old soldier who had been in 
 the battle, and who spoke warmly of the courage of 
 Captain Hull. I recalled the lines of Bryant, which 
 may have been written on the very spot, beginning, — 
 
 " Once this soft turf, these quiet sands, 
 Were trampled by a hurrying crowd, 
 And fiery hearts and armed hands 
 Encountered in the battle-cloud." 
 
 In my opinion, it is a disadvantage for children 
 to have much money, and also a disadvantage to be 
 without any. The prayer of Agur, " Give me neither 
 poverty nor riches," applies as well to children as to 
 adults. My brothers and I made our own playthings, 
 our bats and balls, our bows and arrows. We had a 
 museum to which drifted the curiosities of the family, 
 — Indian war clubs, moccasins, and finery ; the mouths 
 of sharks rimmed with rows of terrific teeth ; the rat- 
 tles of the rattlesnake, the tusks of the rhinoceros, — 
 evidences of the past connection of some of the house- 
 hold with the wilderness, and of others with the sea.
 
 NEWTON. 25 
 
 But some things, like sleds and skates, must be bought ; 
 and for such purposes we laid away our small incomes. 
 It was one of my grandfather's principles that every 
 person should have some regular allowance, be it ever 
 so little. He believed that a husband should make a 
 regular allowance to his wife, and parents to their chil- 
 dren. When I was a very little boy I had three cents 
 a week, then six, then ten, at last twenty-five cents. 
 But I was required to keep an account book, and put 
 down all I received and spent. I even learned to keep 
 my books by double entry, which also was made an en- 
 tertaining exercise. I cannot but think that this was a 
 very good thing for us. We were taught the value of 
 money, taught to economize it, so as to use it for an 
 extraordinary occasion. 
 
 Thus, after hearing a course of chemical lectures, I 
 had my little laboratory. After a lecture on electricity, 
 I set myself to making a machine ; for a cylinder I 
 bought a large bottle of smooth white glass ; my non- 
 conducting pillars to support it, and to support the con- 
 ductor, were cologne bottles ; the conductor itself I 
 made of a block of wood on which was pasted tinfoil. 
 My Leyden jars I manufactured in the same way, and 
 I could get a very respectable spark from this simple 
 apparatus. 
 
 It was the custom on summer afternoons for many of 
 my grandfather Freeman's friends to drive from Boston, 
 to visit him at his country residence. The reception 
 room was a large parlor on the east, from which there 
 was a beautiful view of the valley below, Nonantum ^ 
 on the left, the spire of Brighton church beyond, and 
 farther away, Charlestown, Boston, and the ocean. 
 
 ^ Nonantum is the hill where the apostle Eliot first preached to the 
 Indians.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE LATIN SCHOOL. 
 
 The Boston Latin School was the first and only 
 school I ever attended. All my early teaching, as I have 
 said, I received at home ; and when I entered the Latin 
 School, at the age of ten, I had already acquired a con- 
 siderable amount of knowledge under that genial home 
 instruction. Every difficult step had been made so easy 
 for me that I enjoyed reading the pleasant stories of 
 Ovid, and even the melodies of Horace ; and algebra 
 had been a game full of interesting problems, the solu- 
 tion of which gave a thrill of satisfaction. So that I 
 might seem to be thoroughly prepared for the studies of 
 the Latin School. But one thing I had not learned to 
 do. I had not been taught to commit to memory the 
 uninteresting and unintelligible rules, exceptions, notes, 
 and remarks, of which the school grammar was full. 
 It was the Latin School system, in those days, to have 
 the first year wholly occupied in committing to memory 
 the most abstract formulas of Adams' Latin Grammar. 
 There might be a dull kind of discipline in this ; but, as 
 I think, an injurious one. It was a discipline of the 
 power of cramming the memory with indigestible facts 
 and sounds. It taught us to make a strenuous effort 
 to accomplish a disagreeable task. But is not life full 
 enough of such tasks ? Is there ever a day in which 
 we do not have to do them ? Why, then, take the time 
 which might be occupied in learning something inter- 
 esting and useful, in learning as a mere tour de force 
 that which we should never use ? It had a benumbing
 
 LATIN SCHOOL. 27 
 
 effect on the mind. It stu})efied our faculties. It gave 
 a distaste for study. Latin, Greek, and mathematics, 
 taught in this way, inspired only dislike. 
 
 What is mental discipline ? Every faculty of body 
 and mind is best disciplined by exercise. Now only 
 that which we enjoy doing fully exercises our powers. 
 We do disagreeable tasks by a strenuous effort, feebly ; 
 we do agreeable ones without an effort, with energy. 
 What greater exercise than playing chess ? This tasks 
 observation, memory, foresight, the power of combining 
 means to an end, patient continued effort. If chess 
 were drudgery, no one could ever do all this. But the 
 pleasure which attends it tides us over all these diffi- 
 cult mental operations. 
 
 The joy which children take in play is an ingenious 
 device by which Mother Nature communicates to them 
 the first and most indispensable knowledge. The play- 
 room and playground are her primary school. There, 
 children intent on ball, top, kite, games of tag, puss in 
 the corner, and so on, are really learning how to exer- 
 cise their limbs, balance their bodies, quicken their per- 
 ceptive organs, and learn obedience to the immvitable 
 laws of the physical world. While playing, they be- 
 come acquainted with the nature of things, gravitation, 
 motion in direct lines and curves, the laws of elasticity, 
 action and reaction, equilibrium, friction, and the like. 
 They also learn, by playing in company, how to com- 
 mand and obey, to give up their own wishes for the 
 common good, and to unite with others for a common 
 end. From this varied, delightful, and thorough sys- 
 tem of education, we take them to a school, and teach 
 them — what ? the dull process of committing words to 
 memory ! And we think this is education ! 
 
 Of course I do not mean that children should spend 
 all their time in play, but I mean that we should study 
 the method of nature, and make what we call work as 
 interesting as play. It can be made even more inter- 
 esting.
 
 28 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 It was a well established tradition in our family tliat 
 the boys should all go to the Boston Latin School. My 
 father went to it. My grandfather Clarke went to it. 
 My grandfather Freeman went to it. And all my 
 brothers, as well as myself, went to it. And no doubt, 
 notwithstanding its grievous defects in methods, it did 
 us all great good to go there. 
 
 First, it taught social equality. There is no aris- 
 tocracy in a public school but the natural leadership of 
 superior ability. The public schools of England have 
 saved the nation from that separation of class from 
 class which has brought revolution to the kingdoms of 
 the Continent. Public schools teach boys the true 
 equality of human beings, not an equality of powers, of 
 function, of position, of possession, but of human and 
 social rights. The young son of an English nobleman 
 finds he must get the son of a farmer to help him 
 in his studies, finds himself surpassed in his classes by 
 the son of a poor widow, finds himself on the play- 
 ground obeying, as his chief, the bright-eyed, quick- 
 footed plebeian, who is the natural captain of the little 
 regiment. Thus he learns to subordinate position to 
 faculty, outward rank to native power. 
 
 In my division in the Latin School there were sons 
 of the wealthiest, and sons of the least wealthy citizens. 
 They studied, recited, played together, and were thus 
 educated to a true democracy. One of these boys, 
 whose father was a man of limited means, became after- 
 ward an eminent engineer. Some forty years after we 
 left the Latin School, I happened to meet a relative of 
 his, and asked after my old classmate. " He is chief 
 engineer," she answered, " to the Emperor of Brazil. 
 In his last letter he described a reception he had given 
 at his villa to the Emperor and his court." 
 
 On entering the Latin School I was put into a divi- 
 sion of ten or twelve boys in the lowest, or fifth class, 
 and began to commit to memory the first pages of the
 
 LATIN SCHOOL. 29 
 
 Latin Grammar. How well I remember the first sen- 
 tence : " Grammar is the art of speaking and writing 
 correctly." Having thus defined it as an art, the book 
 went on to teach it as though it were a science. In- 
 stead of practical rules and examples of correct and 
 incorrect speech, it gave a minute philological analysis - 
 of the linguistic forms. How do children learn to 
 speak their own language ? By being taught the dif- 
 ference between a noun and pronoun, an adverb and 
 conjunction? By analyzing language into moods and 
 tenses, number and person ? Not at all. They learn 
 by imitation and repetition. They learn thus the use 
 of the most essential words and forms, and only come 
 gradually to the less essential. That is, they learn by 
 practice and observation. They first acquire the phrases 
 which are most necessary for common use, and these 
 they retain because they have to use them so often. 
 Their vocabulary extends itself gradually to an outer 
 circle of less used terms ; and so, by gradual expansion, 
 they become familiar with all that they need to know. 
 
 If grammar is the art of speaking, writing, and read- 
 ing a language correctly, it should follow this method 
 of nature instead of that of the schools. Fortunately, 
 the superstition of grammar is rapidly disappearing. 
 Another superstition remains, however, — that of the 
 dictionary. Sensible and practical teachers are now 
 generally aware that, in learning a language, all the 
 knowledge of grammar needed at first is that of the 
 declensions and conjugations and a few rules of syntax. 
 Having acquired these, the pupil is to keep his gram- 
 mar by his side as a book of reference, turning to it 
 when a difficulty appears Avhich he is unable otherwise 
 to remove. He learns his grammar by practical appli- 
 cation, and thus will remember it better. But how 
 about the dictionary ? 
 
 Great objection is made by teachers to the use of 
 translations. But what mental discipline comes from
 
 30 AUTOBlOGRM'liy. 
 
 turning over the pages of a dictionary ? Does know- 
 ledge enter our minds through the ends of our fingers ? 
 Does the mere bodily exercise of thumbing the leaves 
 tend to fix the word in the memory ? The dictionary 
 tells the boy the meaning of the term. The translation 
 does exactly the same thing, only saving the time lost 
 in searching for it. A tutor, sitting by his side, if wise, 
 would do the same. The point in each case is to have 
 him remember the meaning after he has been told it. 
 That could be accomplished by his going over his exer- 
 cise repeatedly, until he remembers it without refer- 
 ring to dictionary, translation, or tutor. 
 
 When I entered the Latin School I was put into a 
 small class who were set to committing to memory 
 Adams' Latin Grammar. In this exercise I was very 
 imperfect, and I immediately went to the foot of the 
 class, and there remained. For it was the custom, and 
 I think it a very good one, to excite the emulation of 
 the boys by having each boy who made a mistake 
 change places in the seat with any boy who was below 
 him and could correct him. Thus it happened that the 
 position and rank of the pupil might change several 
 times during a single recitation. At the beginning of 
 each recitation the boys occupied the places they held 
 at the close of the previous one. No record was kept 
 of this rank, and no reward or honor was obtained by 
 it. Thus there was no undue stimulus exercised, and 
 yet enough to arouse the ambition of the scholars. The 
 excitement subsided at the end of each recitation. 
 
 From this experimental class the pupils were trans- 
 ferred, according to their apparent merits, into different 
 divisions of the fourth and fifth classes. Finally there 
 remained only one boy beside myself who had not been 
 thus transferred. He was John Osborne Sargent, who 
 has since then become a distinguished man. He had been 
 always at the head of the class, and I at the foot. To 
 my intense surprise he and I were both transplanted to
 
 LATIN SCHOOL. 31 
 
 a higher position than any of the rest, namely, into 
 the second division of the fourth class. That Sargent 
 should thus be promoted seemed only just; but on 
 what ground was I sent up with him ? It seemed like 
 pure favoritism. Or did Mr. Gould have prescience by 
 which to discern the result ? For no sooner was I thus 
 promoted, and, instead of committing the grammar to 
 memory, set to translating Cornelius Nepos, than I be- 
 came one of the best two scholars in the class, my com- 
 panion Sargent being the other. My previous instruc- 
 tion at home began to tell. It had taught me to use my 
 faculties freely; it caused me to take pleasure in my 
 studies. I took great pleasure in the music of Ovid, 
 which followed Nepos ; and when we came to Virgil, 
 the lovely pastoral pictures in the Eclogues had a charm 
 which still remains. The ^neid I never liked so well. 
 It was very easy reading, but seemed less original and 
 more superficial. The " pious ^neas " I thought a cold- 
 blooded humbug, and I think so still. Virgil's heroes 
 seem hardly more than lay figures, or shells of men, 
 with no substantial humanity within. What a poor 
 creature is ^neas compared with the high-spirited, gen- 
 erous Hector ! The episode of ^neas and Dido is far 
 inferior to that of Ulysses and Calypso, from which 
 it was copied, and even to the subsequent repZtca of 
 Rinaldo and Armida in Tasso. 
 
 There was one book used in the Latin School when I 
 was there in which the true method of instruction was 
 fully realized. This was Warren Colburn's " First Les- 
 sons in Arithmetic." It exercised the mind, not the 
 memory ; it began with what was easy, and went on to 
 what was difficult ; it interested us by perpetual prob- 
 lems, which tasked but did not tax the mind. We had 
 not to commit to memory unintelligible rules, but made 
 rules for ourselves as we went on. We boys never 
 played a game with more pleasure or more excitement 
 than we had in seeing which would be the first to get
 
 32 AUTOBIOGHAFUY. 
 
 the answer to a proposed question. But of course this 
 admirable book was soon banished from the schools by 
 the pedants, who thought that whatever was interest- 
 ing must be bad. It combined the best training with 
 the best instruction, enabling a boy or a girl to solve 
 any mathematical question likely to arise in the busi- 
 ness of life. But though it thus fully attained the end 
 of arithmetic, it did not teach the students to call the 
 processes by the old names, and so it was first muti- 
 lated, and then very generally discarded. 
 
 But I recollect this incident, which illustrates its 
 value. One of the best teachers I ever knew, Francis 
 E. Goddard, of Louisville, Ky., had a little boy com- 
 mitted to his care by his father, Mr. Garnet Duncan, of 
 that city. The boy, who has since become somewhat 
 famous as a politician, was walking with his teacher 
 through the main street of Louisville, when they came 
 to a store, in front of which two or three of the princi- 
 pal merchants of the city were engaged in animated 
 discussion. <' Here comes Mr. Goddard," said one of 
 them ; " let us ask him. We have a mathematical 
 question which has arisen in the course of our business 
 which we cannot answer." So he stated the difficulty, 
 and asked Mr. Goddard to write down the problem, 
 take it home, and when he had leisure see if he could 
 solve it. Goddard turned to the little boy by his side 
 
 and said, " Here, , do it in your head." And the 
 
 boy gave the right answer on the spot. He had been 
 thoroughly trained in Colburn's '' First Lessons." ^ 
 
 One of the most curious literary deceptions occurred 
 when I was at the Latin School. One of my class, 
 whose father was a highly respectable citizen, but not 
 very wealthy, suddenly appeared to have plenty of 
 
 1 We leave this incident as recorded by Dr. Clarke because the 
 facts -were as stated ; but the explanation proves to lie in the excep- 
 tional endowment of the boy, who has retained throug-h life the same 
 power of immediate solution of intricate mathematical problems. Ed.
 
 LATIN SCHOOL. 33 
 
 money. He would hire horses and take us to drive, 
 and indulge in other expenditures. Years after he gave 
 me the explanation. John Pierpont had just prepared 
 his Reader for schools, called " The American First 
 Class Book." It was published by William B. Fowle, 
 and had a great success. It was far superior in its se- 
 lections to those of any other reading-book then extant. 
 The author and publisher had found it very profitable. 
 The boy to whom I refer wrote Mr. Fowle, in the charac- 
 ter of a retired literary gentleman who did not wish his 
 name to transpire, offering to prepare a companion vol- 
 ume to that of Mr. Pierpont, containing extracts suit- 
 able for declamation. Mr. Fowle answered the letter, 
 saying he would like a specimen of the work, suffi- 
 ciently copious to enable him to judge of its value. 
 Thereupon my young friend associated a companion 
 with himself, and together they wrote out extracts from 
 speeches, plays, and poems, suitable for elocutionary 
 purposes, and sufficient in quantity to make the first 
 quarter of the volume. Mr. Powle accepted it, and 
 sent his check for, I think, at least a hundred dollars. 
 They prepared and sent another quarter, and received 
 another hundred dollars. By this time they grew a 
 little careless, and the third quarter was so inferior 
 that Mr. Powle refused to pay for more, and finished 
 the book himself. But the boys received between them 
 two or three hundred dollars ; and I presume that Mr. 
 Fowle never knew who were the compilers of the vol- 
 ume.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CAMBRIDGE. 
 
 I ENTERED Harvard College in 1825, being fifteen 
 years old, which was the age of the large majority of 
 the class. We graduated in 1829, at the age of nine- 
 teen. Instead of the two hundred who now enter, we 
 were only about sixty ; but this enabled every one to 
 know all his classmates. The class became a famous 
 one afterward, having produced eminent men in law, 
 science, mercantile pursuits, and literature ; but it did 
 not promise much in college. The curious fact was, 
 that few of the class took any genuine interest in the 
 college studies. Benjamin Peirce, who was bom with 
 the genius for mathematics which made him afterward 
 so distinguished a mathematician, went far beyond the 
 college course in that direction. Each class had one 
 day a week in which to take books from the college 
 library ; and 1 recollect that Peirce, instead of select- 
 ing novels, poetry, history, biography, or travels, as 
 most of us did, brought back under his arm large 
 quarto volumes of pure mathematics. When we came 
 to recite in the Calculus or Conic Sections, it was ob- 
 served that the tutor never put any question to Peirce, 
 but having set him going, let him talk as long as he 
 chose without interruption. It was shrewdly suspected 
 that this was done from fear lest the respective 7'6les 
 should be reversed, and the examiner might become the 
 examinee. We also could foresee in our forensic dis- 
 cussions the future eminence of Benjamin Bobbins Cur- 
 tis, who afterward became so prominent at the bar and
 
 CAMBRIDGE. 35 
 
 on the bench of the United States Court. His papers, 
 read aloud to the professor of philosophy, were so 
 strictly logical, and such exhaustive discussions, that it 
 seemed impossible to improve on them. His mind 
 worked, even tlien, with the accuracy of a machine, do- 
 ing its work perfectly. In after years his intelligence 
 was enlarged by ampler knowledge, was capable of 
 more extensive research and more sustained investiga- 
 tion ; but it worked as accurately in those college pa- 
 pers as Avhen it showed its irresistible force in argu- 
 ments at the bar or opinions from the bench. 
 
 It was not till we were well through college that 
 the talent of Oliver Wendell Holmes became known 
 to most of his classmates. I had become aware of 
 it before, for I sometimes visited him at his father's 
 house, where he lived the first two or three years of 
 his college course. Many an evening I passed in his 
 room, playing chess, eating red apples, and enjoying his 
 bright conversation. He said things then as witty as 
 any that have since proceeded from his tongue and pen. 
 One of his impromptus lingers in my memory. We 
 were talking of metaphysics. " I '11 tell you, James," 
 said he, " what I think metaphysics is like. It is like 
 a man splitting a log. When it is done, he has two 
 more to split ! " 
 
 In our last year we had a periodical called " The Col- 
 legian ; " and some of Holmes's poems were published 
 in it, which have all the flavor and piquancy of his full- 
 grown Muse. 
 
 Peirce, Curtis, and Holmes were men of genius, — 
 one mathematical, one logical, and the third poetical. 
 Genius shows itself very early. But most of the class 
 gave little demonstration of what they were to do after- 
 ward. One for whom we felt a mysterious admiration 
 was William Henry Channing, the favorite nephew of 
 Dr. W. E. Channing. He was a beautiful boy, with 
 dark hair and shaded eyes, and an expression of serious
 
 36 A UTOBIOGRAPH Y. 
 
 thought, earnest purpose, and pure aspiration. The 
 child, in him, was father to the man. But he was si- 
 lent among his companions, lived much alone, was 
 thoughtful rather than studious. The problems of life 
 already had taken possession of his mind ; and often, 
 in an evening walk, Ave would discuss the great ques- 
 tions of destiny and freedom, human progress, and 
 superhuman influences. From the first he was pure in 
 heart, and high-spirited in his temper. He abhorred 
 everything mean, selfish, earthly. James H. Perkins, 
 his cousin, who knew him from a child, once said to me, 
 " William Henry Channing is the holiest person I ever 
 knew. God beset him, behind and before, and laid 
 his hand upon him." He was always seeking to get to 
 the very root of every question, but he was obliged, by 
 the structure of his intellect, to look at both sides. 
 This made him often hesitating and unable to decide. 
 
 One of my friends, with whom I maintained a near 
 friendship as long as he lived, was George T. Davis. 
 He was the most brilliant of men in conversation, and 
 was so regarded through life by all who knew him. 
 His memory was prodigious, and he quoted in conversa- 
 tion innumerable passages from all authors, — grave 
 or gay, lively or severe, — and he increased the interest 
 of these quotations by his own delight in them. 
 
 I have sometimes wondered that our teachers then, 
 and so many teachers since, could never interest young 
 people in study. There is one element in the human 
 soul which is common to all mankind, — curiosity. 
 Why was this motive never appealed to ? No attempt 
 was made to interest us in our studies. We were ex- 
 pected to wade through Homer as though the Iliad 
 were a bog, and it was our duty to get along at such a 
 rate ^^e?* diem. Nothing was said of the glory and 
 grandeur, the tenderness and charm of this immortal 
 epic. The melody of the hexameters was never sug- 
 gested to us. Dr. Popkin, our Greek professor, would
 
 CAMBRIDGE. 37 
 
 look over his* spectacles at us, and, with pencil in hand, 
 mark our recitation as good or bad, but never a word to 
 help us over a diiiiculty, or to explain anything obscure, 
 still less to excite our enthusiasm for the greatest poem 
 of antiquity. But this was not peculiar to Dr. Popkin. 
 It was the universal custom, with but one exception. 
 
 Professor John Farrar, in his lectures on philoso- 
 phy, and in his other teaching, excited a living inter- 
 est in physics, astronomy, mechanics, electricity, and 
 the other sciences. Consequently we really learned in 
 listening to him, and in reciting to him. I can repeat, 
 to-day, many of his explanations and illustrations in 
 these sciences. He was a man instinct with nervous 
 vivacity, and would be carried away by the fervor of 
 his speech and his interest in his theme, till he would 
 quit his desk, walk to and fro about the room, talking 
 and gesticulating, sometimes stooping till his body 
 almost touched the floor, then rising till he stood on 
 the tips of his toes, in the ardor of his discourse. He 
 was a true teacher, but almost the only one in the 
 whole corps of the professors. We went through Conic 
 Sections with a tutor who never suggested to us, from 
 first to last, that these were the curves in which the 
 planets and comets moved, and that by learning their 
 laws we were able to determine, a thousand years be- 
 forehand, an eclipse of the sun or an occultation of Ju- 
 piter. We supposed they were barren studies with no 
 practical application. Even a little introduction, giv- 
 ing the history of the discovery of these laws, would 
 have interested us. But nothing was said to awaken 
 our curiosity, which I once heard Dr. James Walker 
 say should be the chief motive appealed to by teachers. 
 
 But in fact it is a modern discovery, or perhaps a 
 re-discovery, that the duty of a teacher is to teach. It 
 was at that time assumed that it was his duty to hear 
 recitations. Of course, if he gave lectures, he was to 
 comrpxunicate information, but never in the. recitation
 
 38 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 room. To explain difficulties to the young men before 
 him, to help them along by happy illustration and com- 
 ment, to untie the knots too hard for their young fin- 
 gers to loose, — this would have been thought almost 
 improper, and, certainly, it would have caused great 
 surprise if one of the students had said, " I cannot un- 
 derstand this passage in Horace ; will you be so kind 
 as to explain it ? " But why not, if we were sent to 
 college to learn ? 
 
 The root of the evil was that the motive relied on by 
 the college system was not curiosity, but emulation ; not 
 the love of knowledge, but the desire for rank. Every- 
 thing went to rank ; recitations, regular attendance at 
 exercises, good behavior in our rooms and elsewhere, — 
 all were counted to the credit of rank in class. But as 
 the majority of the class soon found that they could not 
 attain a high rank, they ceased to try, and contented 
 themselves with reciting well enough and beha,ving well 
 enough to escape punishment. 
 
 The assumption in those days was, — and it still re- 
 mains too much the general assumption in the corps of 
 teachers in all colleges, — that young men's minds and 
 hearts will not respond to generous motives, that they 
 must be coerced, restrained, punished, and driven, not 
 led by affection, by good-will, by the love of truth, by 
 the desire for knowledge, by the ardor of attainment. 
 But our real study was done from these latter motives. 
 When I recall what my classmates were interested in 
 doing, I find it was not college work, which might have 
 given them rank, but pursuits outside of the curricu- 
 lum. They did not put their strength into college 
 themes, but into articles for the " Collegian." They 
 did not read Thucydides and Xenophon, but Macaulay 
 and Carlyle. We unearthed old tomes in the college 
 library, and while our English professors were teaching 
 us out of Blair's " Rhetoric," we were forming our taste 
 by making copious extracts from Sir Thomas Browne,
 
 CAMBRIDGE. 39 
 
 or Ben Jonson. Our real professors of rhetoric were 
 Charles Lainb and Coleridge, Walter Scott and Words- 
 worth. I recall the delight which George Davis and 
 I took in an old copy of Sir Thomas Browne which 
 we stumbled upon in the college library. We had 
 scarcely heard the name ; but by a sure instinct we 
 discovered the wit, originality, and sagacity of this old 
 writer. It was about the time of our senior year that 
 Professor Marsh, of Vermont University, was reprint- 
 ing Coleridge's " Friend," his " Aids to Reflection," and 
 his " Biographia Literaria." These books I read from 
 time to time during several years, and they gave, in a 
 high degree, incitement and nourishment to my intel- 
 lect. Coleridge the poet I had known and loved. Cole- 
 ridge the philosopher confirmed my longing for a higher 
 philosophy than that of John Locke and David Hart- 
 ley, the metaphysicians most in vogue with the earlier 
 Unitarians down to the time of Channing. 
 
 The books of Locke, Priestley, Hartley, and Belsham 
 were in my grandfather Freeman's library, and the 
 polemic of Locke against innate ideas was one of my 
 earliest philosophical lessons. But something within 
 me revolted at all such attempts to explain soul out of 
 sense, deducing mind from matter, or tracing the origin 
 of ideas to nerves, vibrations, and vibratiuncles. So I 
 concluded I had no taste for metaphysics and gave it 
 up, until Coleridge showed me from Kant that though 
 knowledge begins ivith experience it does not come 
 f7'07n experience. Then I discovered that I was born a 
 transcendentalist ; and smiled when I afterwards read, 
 in one of Jacobi's works, that he had gone through 
 exactly the same experience. Thus I became a great 
 reader of Coleridge, and was quite ready to accept his 
 distinction between the reason and the understanding 
 judging by sense. This distinction helped me much in 
 my subsequent studies of theology. It enabled me to 
 distinguish between truth as seen by the reason, and its
 
 40 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 statement as formulated by the understanding. It en- 
 abled me to put logic in its proper place, and see that 
 its function was not the discovery of truth, but that 
 of arranging, methodizing, and harmonizing verbal pro- 
 positions in regard to it. I could see that those who 
 had the same spiritual experience, and who beheld the 
 same truth, might differ in their statements concerning 
 it, and that while truth was unchanging and eternal, 
 theology might alter and improve from age to age. 
 
 This distinction, when once clearly seen, puts an end 
 to bigotry, at least to honest and involuntary bigotry. 
 Take, for example, the doctrinal dispute concerning the 
 person of Christ. The Trinitarian says, " He is God." 
 The Unitarian says, " He is not God." Each thinks 
 that if he is right, the other is absolutely wrong, and is 
 denying an essential truth. If the truth is coincident 
 with its doctrinal statement, then one or the other is 
 indeed in very grave error. This was the old way of 
 looking at it. But, according to the distinction of Cole- 
 ridge, the vital truth perceived by the reason is not 
 the same as the doctrinal statement enunciated by the 
 understanding. The reason sees in Christ something 
 divine, finds in him a visible manifestation of the in- 
 visible and eternal. In this intellectual vision both 
 the Trinitarian and the Unitarian may be one, though 
 when they come to express it as a doctrine they differ. 
 The essential fact is the vision of truth as beheld by the 
 reason, not its doctrinal form as worked out by the un- 
 derstanding. Thus Coleridge's metaphysical statement 
 has really put an end to much conscientious bigotry in 
 the modern church. 
 
 One injurious result of the college method of making 
 emulation rather than curiosity the chief motive for 
 work was that the recitations under this system wasted 
 the time wanted for study. Three hours each day were 
 given in the Freshman and Sophomore years to recita- 
 tions. If we had been taught anything during these
 
 CAMBEIDGE. 41 
 
 hours, the time would not have been lost. But the 
 teacher was there, not to teach, but to give marks to 
 each student according to the merit of his recitation. 
 Pencil in hand, he listened in silence to the student's 
 translation or solution of a problem, and having affixed 
 the proper number to his name, went on to the next. 
 As only a few of the class recited well enough for us to 
 learn anything from what they said, those hours were 
 not only wasted, but put us into a condition of mental 
 torpor. We had three lessons a day, each of which 
 ought, by right, to have two hours of study given to it 
 in preparation. That would be six hours of study. 
 Add three recitations, and it makes nine hours. Add 
 one for exercise, one and a half for meals, and how 
 much remains for society, amusement, general reading, 
 writing letters, college clubs, etc. ? 
 
 Four hours' confinement to real study is quite as 
 much as the average human brain will endure, and few 
 in the class did more than this. For myself, as Greek 
 was to me the most difficult study, I usually gave to 
 it two hours. As I read Latin with a good deal of 
 facility, I often did not look at my Livy or Tacitus be- 
 fore going into recitation. As mathematics was also 
 comparatively easy to me, I gave it about an hour, thus 
 studying only three hours a day. And I think this 
 about as much as ought to be required of a youth of 
 fifteen. If to this had been added three hours of inter- 
 esting instruction in the recitation room, we should 
 probably have graduated with some fair knowledge of 
 what we had been devoting five years in school and four 
 years in college to learn. In fact, however, in a class of 
 eighty or ninety young men,^ not more than a dozen 
 
 ^ Though the coUeg-e catalogaie gives the number who graduated 
 as fifty-nine, there were, at different times during the four years, 
 twenty-one others who were connected for a longer or shorter time 
 with the class, making the whole number who were at some time 
 members of the class, eighty.
 
 42 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 were able, when they took their degree, to reaxi a 
 Greek or Latin book, or to solve a problem in the 
 higher mathematics. 
 
 Worse than the absence of knowledge was the want 
 of interest left by this system. In the Boston Latin 
 School I had been interested in Ovid and Virgil, in 
 Anacreon and Lucian, in algebra and geometry. But 
 while in college, Homer and Hesiod, Sophocles and 
 Euripides, became distasteful, and I worried through 
 my mathematics simply to avoid bad marks in recita- 
 tion, each day forgetting what I had learned the day 
 before. There was an immoral influence in a system 
 which produced such habits in well-disposed boys ; 
 which taught them to shirk study, to conceal their 
 ignorance, and to make use of means which they knew 
 were forbidden. One of these prohibited methods was 
 the use of translations. But why should not boys use 
 translations in learning their lessons, if they succeed in 
 being able to read them without the translation? A 
 Latin dictionary is only a collection of Latin words 
 translated into English. Why not prohibit the use of 
 a dictionary, and insist on the student finding out by 
 intuition the meaning of the foreign word ? 
 
 Notwithstanding these drawbacks, our years at Har- 
 vard College were by no means wasted. What we did 
 not learn in the regular course of study, we learned out- 
 side of it. What we did not acquire from books, we 
 taught each other. Each class was a little world, a 
 microcosm. Here were collected all the chief varieties 
 of human character; here were displayed the human 
 passions, the little vanities, generosities, fine and coarse 
 impulses, noble and mean motives, with which we were 
 to come in contact in the world. College gave us pre- 
 liminary experience of all this, which was a good pre- 
 paration for life. It was a world on a small scale, but 
 where the play of character was more apparent, and the 
 motives of action were hardly concealed. In class inter-
 
 CAMBRIDGE. 43 
 
 course were struggles for precedence, underhand and 
 open attempts to carry points, rivalries for popularity. 
 What ardor we put into our small controversies, how 
 we admired and extolled this or that leader, in our little 
 puppet-show world ! It was not a bad preparation for 
 life, and I have observed that the chances of success 
 in the world are much in favor of one who has been 
 through college. He gets a certain mental discipline, 
 a power of self-control, a balance of faculty, and an 
 insight into character, which are very helpful. This 
 comes in part from the habit of systematic study ; but 
 still more, as I judge, from this boiling cauldron of 
 juvenile struggles, sympathies, antipathies, successes, 
 and disappointments. Thus I think it a good thing to 
 go through college, even though one should accomplish 
 very little in the student's curriculum. 
 
 It so chanced that in our Freshman year, Dr. FoUen, 
 recently from Germany, was enabled, by some happy in- 
 fluence, to introduce gymnastic exercises into Harvard 
 College. We began with a large room, fitted up with 
 parallel and horizontal bars, ladders, climbing poles, 
 wooden horses, dumb-bells, and the like. Afterward 
 the triangular piece of ground, called the Delta, where 
 Memorial Hall now stands, was fitted up with a more 
 elaborate apparatus. Beside the rest, there was an up- 
 right mast, about seventy feet high, stayed by guys, 
 which ran from the top of the mast in opposite direc- 
 tions to the ground, at an angle of about thirty degrees. 
 Halfway up the mast was a platform, from which large 
 beams ran out on either side, at right angles, supported 
 at each end by strong posts. To this platform one could 
 ascend by a ladder, but from the platform to the top 
 he must climb the bare mast, aided only by a knotted 
 rope. 
 
 I was ahvays fond of climbing, having a good deal 
 of the balancing organ, which the phrenologists call 
 weight. This is a specimen of the defective nomen^
 
 44 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 clature of phrenologists, arising from the fact that they 
 often gave to an organ a name derived from a single 
 function, instead of a name which should express all its 
 applications. A more scientific name for the organ in 
 question would be niomentuvi. It is the physical fac- 
 ulty in animals and men by which they instinctively 
 measure the amount of pressure, resistance, moving 
 force, required in any muscular act. Being fond of 
 climbing, and feeling safe at any elevation, I took plea- 
 sure on the mast, learning to go up the rope to the top, 
 and even to stand upright on the little iron cap at the 
 summit. These open-air exercises were very conducive 
 to health. While at school, I had frequent attacks of 
 fever and pulmonary trouble, but after two or three 
 years of gymnasium exercise I became free from these 
 tendencies, and the foundation was laid for the physical 
 health which has been one of the blessings of my life. 
 
 Boating, which now prevails so largely in Harvard, 
 had not then come. But we had baseball and football 
 in their seasons. The college government also paid a 
 fencing-master, M. Vailly, an old soldier in the Napo- 
 leonic wars, to give instruction to four monitors in each 
 class ; who, in turn, taught the rest. I was fortunately 
 selected or elected to be one of these monitors, and so 
 was taught to fence by this skillful maitre cVarmes. 
 My classmate, Edward D. Sohier, was another monitor, 
 and excelled us all in this, as in most other athletic ex- 
 ercises. He was M. Vailly's best pupil ; and when a 
 rival teacher of fencing challenged our master to a trial 
 of skill, Vailly refused, but offered his pupil, Sohier, as 
 a substitute. Great was our excitement on this occar 
 sion. The fencing room, in University Hall, was 
 crowded with anxious students, fearful lest our cham- 
 pion should be defeated. But Sohier played a close and 
 cautious game, contenting himself with parrying the 
 lunges of his opponent, till the latter incautiously left 
 a little opening, of which Sohier instantly availed him-
 
 CAMBRIDGE. 45 
 
 self and touched the fencing-master on the breast with 
 ,the button of his foil, which he then threw aside, and, 
 taking off the wire mask from his face, wisely declined 
 any further contention. I have since sometimes won- 
 dered whether he had inherited any of this aptitude for 
 arms from the old knights of Vermandois and Sohier, 
 from whom he is descended.^ 
 
 At the beginning of my Sophomore year I met with 
 an adventure which was exceedingly distressing and a 
 great shock. We were to write our first English theme, 
 and Professor Edward Channing gave us for its subject 
 " The Difficulties of Composition." The themes were 
 to be handed in at the end of a fortnight. I sat down 
 immediately and began mine, and wrote a part of it, 
 carelessly leaving the rough draft on my table. When 
 the themes were sent back by the professor, I found 
 that he had written on mine the name of one of my 
 class, whose room was in the same entry, and whom I 
 will call B. D. I went to him, and he showed me his 
 theme, on which the professor had written my name. 
 On looking at it I perceived that the first part was 
 identical with my own. It had been copied almost 
 verbatim, though, fortunately for me, not wholly so, 
 
 ^ I recollect sometimes going with Edward Sohier very early in the 
 cold mornings of November, to shoot ducks on Fresh Pond. I do not 
 think we shot many ; but we imagined we were having sport, while 
 we lay hidden in our punt among the reeds, and were half frozen with 
 cold. How large a part of our pleasures are imaginary ! The boy 
 thinks he likes smoking a cigar, though it makes him feel very badly ; 
 but he perseveres, because he imagines it a manly enjoyment. To 
 impress on boys the difference between true and false manliness would 
 do them a great good. Every Sunday-school teacher who has boys in 
 his class should make this his aim. 
 
 After we graduated, I did not meet Edward Sohier during many 
 years. Meantime he had become a leading lawyer at the Suffolk Bar. 
 One day I had occasion to go to his office. On entering, I saw him 
 standing at his desk at a distance, in an inner room. He lifted his 
 head, recognized me, and said, "How are you, Jim?" I replied, 
 " How are you, Ned ? " and we were boys again.
 
 46 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 for in some places the copyist had not been able to fol- 
 low my scrawl. In this instance only, during the course 
 of my life, has my bad writing been an advantage to 
 me. I charged B. D. with copying my theme, which 
 he denied doing, and we went together to see the pro- 
 fessor. Each having asserted that his composition was 
 his own work, the professor said, " That is simply im- 
 possible. Either one of you has copied from the other, 
 or both of you have copied the part which you have in 
 common from a third party. Settle between you which 
 it is, and let me know." I was thunderstruck at thus 
 being exposed to the charge of having stolen my theme. 
 I knew it was false, but how prove it as long as B. D. 
 also denied the charge ? Finally we agreed to leave it 
 to a jury of our classmates, each of us to select six. I 
 recollect selecting Benjamin E,. Curtis and William 
 Henry Channing among mine, and that when I asked 
 William Channing to be one of my jurors he took my 
 hand, and said, " Yes, James, and I am quite sure that 
 you never did so mean a thing." He never knew what 
 a comfort that expression of confidence brought to me 
 in my sore distress. Perhaps it may be thought that as 
 he was to be on the jury he had no right to prejudge the 
 case. He did not prejudge it, nor did he decide that 
 the other party in the transaction had stolen my theme, 
 but he expressed a confidence in my integrity based on 
 his knowledge of my character; and this I think he 
 had a right to do. This principle I afterward expressed 
 in the lines beginning, — 
 
 " Judge the people by their actions — 't is a rule you often get." 
 
 When the jury met, and we had made our statements, 
 each of us was asked when he wrote his theme. B. B. 
 incautiously admitted that he had written the whole of 
 his the night before it was handed in. I proved by the 
 testimony of a friend that he had seen on my table and 
 read that part of the composition which was common
 
 CAMBRIDGE. 47 
 
 to both, a week before the time when they were pre- 
 . sented to the professor. This settled the question. But 
 there was another point in my favor. I had quoted, 
 from my reading in Vicesimus Knox's " Elegant Ex- 
 tracts," these lines : — 
 
 " Be careful, when invention fails, 
 To scratch your head, and bite yoiir nails." 
 
 But B. D. had it in his theme, ^^ pare your nails." I 
 asked him to tell the jury where the quotation was 
 from, which he was unable to do. I then said that the 
 lines were from Dean Swift, and pointed out the blun- 
 der he had committed in copying from my MS. The 
 result was that the jury decided the case in my favor. 
 B. D. did not confess what he had done until many 
 years after. I had no further intercourse with him 
 while we were in college ; but thirty or more years 
 after, he came to see me, expressing great sorrow for 
 the action, and till his death manifested for me a warm 
 friendship. I never knew what tempted him to this 
 act, which would necessarily expose him to suspicion. 
 It was not want of ability, for when he came to read 
 aloud a forensic he showed considerable power. Pos- 
 sibly, when he copied the paper on my table, it did not 
 occur to him that it was the beginning of my theme. 
 But if so, why did he not say so ? This event was 
 very painful ; for though the matter was decided in my 
 favor, I could not be sure that some mist of suspicion 
 might not rest on my character. 
 
 During my second year in the Divinity School, Dr. 
 Spiirzheim came to Boston, and gave lectures on phre- 
 nology, which I attended. I went with a prejudice 
 against the system, supposing it had a tendency toward 
 materialism. I thought that it attempted to deduce 
 mind from body, and to make the organization the 
 source of thought and feeling. But Dr. Spiirzheim's 
 first lecture removed this objection. He contended
 
 48 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 that the brain is the organ of mind only as the eye is 
 the organ of sight. It is not the eye which sees, nor 
 the brain which thinks. The mind sees by means of 
 the eye, and thinks by means of the brain. It has al- 
 ways been suspected that the brain is tne organ of 
 thought. The phrenologists go further, and specialize 
 the functions of the different parts of the brain. 
 
 The lectures of Dr. Spurzheim were very interesting, 
 combining large generalizations with minute practical 
 details. Many of the points which the old systems of 
 metaphysics had left obscure were made plain at once 
 by this searching analysis. Memory had been treated as 
 a single faculty, reason as another. But Dr. Spurzheim 
 showed by numerous examples that each organ has its 
 own memory. Thus, one who has a large organ of 
 " Language " but a small organ of " Form " remembers 
 names but not faces, and vice versa. 
 
 A powerful influence was exerted on the minds of 
 young persons by the coming of Dr. Spurzheim. This 
 influence was beneficial in many ways, and that with- 
 out regard to the truth or error of his system. His ob- 
 servations on human conduct and character were clear 
 and full ; he was so overflowing with anecdotes out of 
 his own experience to illustrate his theme, his views 
 were so comprehensive, kindly, tolerant, and sympa- 
 thetic, that he roused a new interest in mental philo- 
 sophy and the study of man. Metaphysics, a doubtful, 
 uncertain study heretofore, with small practical results, 
 at once became interesting and adapted for daily use. 
 Phrenology had a marked influence on the methods 
 of education, as was shown by its becoming the chief 
 motor force in the labors of Horace Mann. It left un- 
 touched, indeed, the higher problems of philosophy, the 
 nature of the soul, the principle of freedom, the origin 
 of those conceptions which take hold of the Infinite and 
 the Eternal. But in its lower sphere of action it usu- 
 ally was a great benefit to those who became interested
 
 CAMBRIDGE. 49 
 
 in it. It placed our higher speculations on a basis of 
 positive experience. 
 
 One of the real benefits of this study was that it in- 
 spired courage and hope in those who were depressed 
 by the consciousness of some inability. So much stress 
 had been laid in our schools on verbal memory that it 
 was a blessing to many a child deficient in this power 
 to learn that memory constituted a very insignificant 
 part of the human intelligence. Phrenology also showed 
 us how, as Goethe says, our virtues and vices grow out 
 of the same roots ; how every good tendency has its 
 danger, and every dangerous power may be so restrained 
 and guided as to be a source of good. It explained that 
 the organic tendencies in themselves have no moral 
 quality, but become virtues and vices as they are guided 
 or neglected by the higher spiritual powers. These dis- 
 tinctions were of great value and aided us, quite apart 
 from any judgment on the truth or error of the system.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 KENTUCKY. 
 
 When the last year of my study in the Divinity 
 School at Harvard was approaching its end, I began to 
 think seriously of my future course. I could either re- 
 main in New England, and endeavor to be settled as 
 minister of some existing society, or I could go out to 
 the West and try to build up a society there. The last 
 plan commended itself to my mind for various reasons. 
 It was more of a missionary work. It would be harder 
 at first, but would open a wider field of activity and in- 
 fluence as time went on. I was afraid that if I were 
 settled in an old-fashioned Unitarian society I should 
 gradually subside into routine ; while in the West there 
 would be no routine, but I should be free to originate 
 such methods as might seem necessary and useful. 
 Then I wished to test my own power and the value of 
 what I had to s&j. If I preached Unitarian doctrine to 
 a congregation which already believed it, I should not 
 be able to judge of the efficacy of what I said. But if 
 I could make converts in a community where my belief 
 was unpopular, I should be convinced of its adaptation 
 to human needs, and so be able to speak with more 
 strength of conviction. Also, it seemed probable that 
 my powers, whatever they were, would be better devel- 
 oped in an atmosphere where there was more freedom 
 of thought, and where public opinion carried less 
 weight of authority. On inquiry, I found that the 
 church in Louisville, Kentucky, which had been estab- 
 lished a year, needed a preacher, Mr. George Chapman
 
 KENTUCKY. 51 
 
 being obliged to relinquish that position on account of 
 ill health. Having agreed to go to Louisville and take 
 his place, I set out directly after graduating from the 
 Divinity School. I preached only once before going. 
 This first service was in Bernard Whitman's church, at 
 Waltham, where the congregation consisted chiefly of 
 those who worked in the Waltham factories. My grand- 
 mother, hearing where I was to preach, told me I might 
 take for my text the verse in Proverbs, " She seeketh 
 wool and flax, and spinneth diligently with her hands." 
 However, I took for the text of my first sermon, "What- 
 soever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might ; " 
 and the subject was the enforcement of Carlyle's fa- 
 vorite doctrine, " Do the nearest duty." I recollect that 
 after writing this sermon, I felt as if I had said all I 
 knew, and should never be able to preach another; 
 which is, I believe, a not uncommon experience with 
 beginners. 
 
 Traveling in 1833 was very different from what it is 
 now. The only railroad on which trains were drawn 
 by locomotives was a short one crossing the State of 
 Delaware. All the rest of the journey between Boston 
 and Kentucky was performed by the old stage-coach 
 or by steamboat. The stage-coach varied in its rate 
 of motion. From two to three miles an hour Avas the 
 average in the West, and five or six miles where the 
 roads were better. In many parts of the West we trav- 
 eled on what was called the corduroy road, which con- 
 sisted of logs laid side by side over swamps ; and as 
 some of these logs would rock, break, sink down, or rise 
 up, riding over them was more of an exercise than a 
 pleasure. In other places, where the roads were of clay, 
 they would be so gullied by the rain as hardly to leave 
 room for the four wheels of the stage. Once, going 
 down a hill at midday, on a walk, the stage-coach in 
 which I was riding overturned, because there was no 
 place left on the road where it could stand upright.
 
 52 A U TOBIOGRAPII Y. 
 
 At another time, when I was sitting with the driver, 
 going down an exceedingly steep hill near Winchester, 
 in Virginia, the brake, which kept the wheels from 
 turning, became so bent that it would not work ; the 
 horses, accustomed to the brake, could not hold back 
 without it ; and the stage began to go faster and faster 
 toward a precipice in front, where the road made a sharp 
 turn. The driver said to me, "I am going to over- 
 turn the coach, else we shall go over the precipice ; be 
 ready to jump off." So he drove into the bank on one 
 side of the road, and overturned the stage as gently as 
 possible. He and I jumped off as it was going over, but 
 the inside passengers were much surprised at this un- 
 expected event, which, however, was the only way of 
 saving their lives. These drivers, all over the West 
 and South, were mostly from New England, and were 
 intelligent, sober, and faithful men. The horses were 
 usually raised in Vermont or New Hampshire ; for 
 those in the South were not strong enough or tough 
 enough to do the work. 
 
 Once, in Kentucky, when I was arguing in a news- 
 paper on the evils of horse-racing, my opponent de- 
 fended the system on the ground that it improved the 
 breed of horses ; and I replied by showing that the 
 horses raised for racing in Kentucky were too light for 
 harness and could hardly be used except in the saddle, 
 so that the draught-horses were brought from New 
 England. My reply was considered satisfactory. 
 
 Inconvenient as it was to be overturned in the day, 
 it was still worse in the night. This happened to 
 me thrice, and each time in Ohio. The first overturn 
 was on the road from Cincinnati to Cleveland. It was 
 raining hard, we were passing through the forest, and 
 the tall trees on either side completely shut out the 
 light, so that 'it was impossible to see anything. The 
 wheels on one side went into a ditch, and the coach 
 upset where the mud was very deep and very soft.
 
 KEyTUCKY. 53 
 
 There was a lady inside, and after the men had crawled 
 out through the door which was uppermost, we lifted 
 the lady out, and placed her on the side of the coach, 
 while the driver went for light and help. Another 
 time we found ourselves utterly lost in the middle of 
 the night in a wood. In the darkness the horses had 
 lost the road and Avandered into the forest. The coach 
 stopped, and the driver said, " You had better get out, 
 for I do not know where we are." Some one struck a 
 light, and we found that the horses had carried the 
 coach to the top of a little hill among the trees. It 
 was one of the grand forests, not uncommon in the 
 West, which had not been touched by the axe, where 
 the undergrowth had disappeared, and the great trees 
 stood so far apart that one could drive a carriage be- 
 tween them over the soft turf. There were seldom any 
 fences beside the road in those days ; and once, in Ken- 
 tucky, having occasion to go from one road to another 
 which was half a mile off, I drove my horse and wagon 
 directly through the forest. 
 
 Sometimes serious injuries resulted from accidents of 
 Western travel ; limbs were broken by the overturning 
 of the stage, and occasionally some person was killed, 
 but commonly the passengers escaped with bruises. 
 Once, in Pennsylvania, we had ridden all day in the 
 coach, and eaten nothing from breakfast-time until nine 
 in the evening. Then we reached Bedford and had a 
 good dinner, and set off again feeling very comfortable. 
 There were nine passengers in the stage, and most of 
 them soon fell asleep. But I was kept awake by the 
 singular movements of the carriage. The horses were 
 evidently running, and occasionally we banged violently 
 against a root or stone. In fact, the driver was intoxi- 
 cated, and unable to manage the horses, which were run- 
 ning away. As long as the road was smooth and good 
 no accident happened ; but, after a while, the horses got 
 out of the road and dragged us across a rocky field,
 
 54 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 where the stage was violently overturned and very 
 much shattered. We were all bruised, but too closely 
 packed to be seriously hurt. We succeeded in getting 
 out, and found our driver, partly sobered by the acci- 
 dent, preparing to ride back on one of the horses to 
 bring help from Bedford. A new cariiage and driver 
 came, but the man who had overturned us went on also 
 to the next change of horses, where he told a pitiful 
 story to the passengers of what his family would suffer 
 if he lost his place, and most of them signed a paper, 
 against my protest, exempting him from blame. Shortly 
 after, I saw in a newspaper that another stage had been 
 overturned in that neighborhood, probably by the same 
 driver, and that one of the passengers had his leg 
 broken. 
 
 The national road from Wheeling, Virginia, to Colum- 
 bus, Ohio, had been built by the United States Govern- 
 ment as the beginning of a system of internal improve- 
 ments. It had been much opposed on this account by 
 the Democratic party, who thought that the national 
 government ought not to take part in such improve- 
 ments. They did not prevent the road from being 
 built, but they prevented it from being mended. It 
 was a macadamized road, but had been improperly built, 
 so that when I went over it, it was in stony ruts, and 
 the passengers were tossed about in all directions. On 
 one occasion it took four hours for the stage-coach to 
 go twelve miles on this macadamized road. 
 
 Yet there was something by no means wholly un- 
 pleasant in these long journeys by the stage-coach. In 
 the summer especially, if one rode on the outside with 
 the driver, as was my custom, he was bathed in a con- 
 stant current of fresh air, was free from dust, and could 
 enjoy the view of the ever-varying scenery. When we 
 reached the top of the Alleghanies, the eye ranged 
 over a vast panorama of forest and meadow, where 
 green patches indicated farms, and through which the
 
 KENTUCKY. 55 
 
 blue streams wended their tranquil way. Sometimes 
 we came to a place where a tornado had cut its resist- 
 less course through the trees, making a broad pathway 
 where for miles all the timber was leveled. Once, on 
 reaching the summit of a mountain in Virginia not 
 far from the White Sulphur Springs, early in the 
 morning, we saw the mists rolling like a great ocean 
 below, reflecting from their upper surface the rays of 
 the rising sun, which made them white as snow ; while 
 here and there the summits of other mountains pierced 
 through this brilliant ocean, appearing like islands of 
 green in the midst of a vast sea. Another day, during 
 the same journey, the stage-coach stopped to allow the 
 passengers to go to the edge of a wonderful precipice, 
 known as Hawk's Nest. From this ledge we looked 
 down more than a thousand feet into the valley of the 
 Kanawha Eiver. The wall of rock was so steep that 
 one might almost drop a stone into the stream. 
 
 The foliage of the woods in the Ohio Valley greatly 
 surprised me by its burning richness of color. I had 
 never seen such hues in New England. The enor- 
 mous trees in these Western forests also seemed to be- 
 long to fairyland, and not to reality. The majestic 
 sycamores leaning their vast trunks and massive limbs 
 over the shallow streams which we often forded, the 
 beautiful gum tree carrying up a tower of foliage to- 
 ward the skies, the enormous tulip trees, and the cotton- 
 Avood with its leaves always in motion, were unlike any- 
 thing with which I was familiar. They recalled to my 
 memory engravings which I had seen, when a child, in 
 a volume belonging to my aunt, Mrs. Swan, who had 
 lent it to me for my amusement when I was recov- 
 ering from an illness. Among these were landcapes 
 by Gaspar Poussin, Claude, and Salvator Rosa, which 
 contained trees so beautiful and majestic that I had 
 supposed them purely ideal creations. But now I saw 
 before me thes every trees, as beautiful as the finest 
 creations of the artists.
 
 56 A uTOBioaiiAPjj y. 
 
 In winter a long stage-coach journey was not so 
 pleasant. And yet sometimes there was a charm and 
 excitement even in this. One night, in the middle of 
 December, we crossed the Laurel Mountain in Pennsyl- 
 vania. It was twelve at night when we reached the 
 summit and began to descend. Fortunately I was on 
 the outside with the driver, else had I lost one of the 
 grandest impressions ever made on my mind. A dark 
 panorama of mountains circled and opened around us, 
 along the edge of whose summits our road wound like 
 a white thread. Beneath us sank a black, fathomless 
 gulf, from which shot up the stems and trunks of 
 gigantic trees, appearing like white spectres as the light 
 from our carriage lamps fell athwart them. As our 
 sure-footed and fleet horses sped along this Simplon 
 route a complex feeling of being on the brink of danger, 
 yet always safe, was merged in a sense of grandeur 
 inspired by the vast, dim amphitheatre around, the 
 mountain tops, the solitude, the loneliness of the hour, 
 and the rapid movement of the horses plunging forward 
 from the darkness behind into the darkness before. 
 
 Another night, in mid-winter, we were crossing the 
 mountains, with a long ascent before us, and the horses 
 were slowly dragging a heavy coach up a difficult road. 
 My feet were cold, and I proposed to one of my fellow- 
 travelers to get out and walk. Moving briskly, we 
 soon left the coach behind. After walking nearly an 
 hour, and hearing nothing of the stage, we determined 
 to wait for it to come up. A very rude log cabin was 
 near the road, and we saw the light of a fire within illu- 
 minating the window. We quietly opened the door 
 and went in. There was but one room. The bed stood 
 in one corner ; the great logs of hickory or sugat-tree 
 were smouldering and blazing up in the big chimney. 
 We sat down to warm ourselves at the fire, and talked 
 with our unseen host, who lay in bed and talked with 
 us, asking the news of his unexpected guests.
 
 KEXTUCKY. 5* 
 
 I once came from Kentucky to Boston by what is 
 called the Guyanclotte route, which crosses the moun- 
 tains from western Virginia, following up the valley 
 of the Kanawha Eiver, and passing east by the White 
 Sulphur Springs, and so on to Fredericksburg and the 
 Potomac. Some of the taverns where we stopped on 
 this route were old Virginia homes kept by the repre- 
 sentatives of decayed families. In such instances the 
 landlord treated his guests very much as if they were 
 friends come to make a visit. He welcomed us at the 
 front door in the most cordial manner, seated us around 
 the old family dinner-table of dark mahogany, on which 
 were spread all the luxuries at his command ; and he 
 felt it his duty to entertain us, while we stayed, with 
 such conversation as he thought would interest us. 
 When we departed, he seemed almost ashamed to re- 
 ceive any payment for his civilities. A friend told me 
 that when making a little journey in Tennessee on 
 horseback he took care to avoid the village inns at 
 nightfall, preferring to pass the night on some planta- 
 tion. In those early days every planter or farmer felt 
 bound to receive travelers, and was usually glad to do 
 so, since this gave him one of his few opportunities 
 of knowing what was passing outside of his own 
 neighborhood. One evening, about sundown, my friend 
 rode up the avenue of a house to the door where the 
 owner was sitting smoking his pipe on the stoop. The 
 traveler, using the customary formula, said: "Can I 
 get to stay here to-night ? " The planter, taking his 
 pipe from' his mouth, replied, " Young man, when I 
 was of your age, and was traveling, if I came to a house 
 at sunset, and asked if I could get to stay, and the 
 owner said no, I should reply by swearing that I would 
 stay anyhow. So, 'light, young man, 'light." My 
 friend was treated very hospitably ; his horse was taken 
 care of, he had a good supper, a good breakfast, and a 
 comfortable bedroom. He was treated so like a friend
 
 58 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 that, when ready to mount his horse, he was ahnost 
 afraid to pay for his entertainment, lest he should give 
 offense to his kind host. But wishing to be on the safe 
 side he stammered out the question, " How much am I 
 indebted, sir, for my entertainment ? " The planter 
 considered, and answered thus : " Your supper and 
 breakfast cost us nothing, for we added nothing to our 
 usual meal. Your bedroom cost us nothing, for we have 
 servants to take care of the rooms who have not half 
 enough to do. Your horse, however, ate, I suppose, 
 about as much corn as I could sell for a quarter of a 
 dollar. So you may pay me that amount," My friend 
 paid this minimum sum, and rode away, admiring the 
 hospitality of this unlettered planter, which was joined 
 with a courtesy that Avould not leave his guest under a 
 sense of obligation. 
 
 I cannot but believe that this stage-coach traveling 
 gave one a good opportunity of becoming acquainted 
 with human character. We usually see only those asso- 
 ciated with us in our own circle of occupation and social 
 intercourse. Thus we take a narrow or one-sided view 
 of mankind. The lawyer sees the quarrelsome side of 
 man ; the clergyman the religious side. The physician 
 sees men whose minds are troubled by disease ; the man 
 of business encounters them in the sharp conflict of self- 
 ish competition. But when we traveled in the stage- 
 coach we met people of every type, quality, training, 
 and occupation. Six or eight persons riding together 
 day after day necessarily became pretty well acquainted 
 with each other. One saw in these long journeys all 
 sorts of characters ; people from every State in the 
 Union, and from foreign lands ; people of every type of 
 religious belief or unbelief ; philanthropists going about 
 doing good, and border ruffians hungry for a quarrel. 
 The result, on the whole, was to give me a favorable 
 impression of human nature. At first, indeed, I was 
 often filled with distaste, not to say disgust. Some
 
 KENTUCKY. 59 
 
 seemed coarse and brutal ; men using profane language 
 in every sentence, boasting of their quarrels, drinking 
 whiskey. Others were full of conceit, thinking of them- 
 selves more highly than they ought to think. Others 
 were garrulous, talking all the time, and saying nothing. 
 Others were morose, stupid, or sullen. Nevertheless, 
 after riding with them for a day or two, some good points 
 would emerge ; the stupid fellow would be found to 
 know something of which I was ignorant ; the talker 
 would say something worth hearing ; the border ruffian, 
 bristling with bowie knives, would turn out to be a 
 good-natured fellow after all. I found that a good deal 
 of this development would depend on the tone taken 
 at first, or on the influence of some one person. Once, 
 when going through the Cattaraugus woods, where the 
 road was mostly deep mire or rough corduroy, and there 
 was every temptation to be cross and uncomfortable, 
 one man so enlivened and entertained our party, was so 
 accommodating and good-natured, that we seemed to be 
 having a pleasant picnic, and the other inmates of the 
 coach took the same tone. I therefore found it best for 
 my own sake, as soon as we took our places in the coach 
 for a long journey, to manifest an interest in my fellow- 
 passengers and their comfort ; offering, for example, to 
 change places with them if they preferred my seat to 
 their own, and paying them such little attentions as are 
 always agreeable. It happened almost always that the 
 other passengers would follow this lead, and take pains 
 to be civil and accommodating. 
 
 Sometimes, by way of variety, and sometimes from 
 necessity, we traveled in canal-boats. I journeyed thus 
 for a day and night in western New York, on the Tona- 
 wanda Canal, with a party from Niagara Falls. The 
 boat was too full for comfort ; and when night came, 
 and we had to arrange for sleeping in the little hanging 
 berths on each side of the cabin, there was a good deal 
 of crowding and discomfort. But some Boston young
 
 60 AUTOBIOGHAFHY. 
 
 ladies of our party, instead of complaining, made light 
 of the matter, and filled the cabin with their gayety. 
 An old judge from Canandaigua occupied the berth be- 
 low me, and I heard him saying to himself after he 
 turned in : " How nice and smart those Boston girls 
 are ! " 
 
 Never shall I forget that first visit to Niagara, I had 
 been in Kentucky a year, and was on my way home for 
 a summer vacation. I stopped at Buffalo on Sunday 
 and preached, and went to the Falls the next morning, 
 to spend a day or two. The large hotels had not then 
 been built ; the crowds had not come ; one or two mod- 
 erate-sized taverns accommodated all the visitors. In 
 the tavern where I stayed, I found the Boston party 
 of which I have just spoken. To meet such a party as 
 this, on my first visit to Niagara, enhanced the pleasure 
 of that experience. The majesty of the Falls was not 
 then debased by a miserable environment of curiosity- 
 shops, peddlers, and shouting hackmen. The roar of 
 the cataract and the tumult of the rapids dominated all 
 other sounds. At night, when we walked on Goat Is- 
 land, by the light of the full moon which shone through 
 the tall treetops, the whole scene was picturesque be- 
 yond description. It seemed to make an epoch in one's 
 life. It filled and satisfied the mind, infusing into it 
 the calmness which the mighty Mother Nature sends to 
 her children's hearts at such hours. I was prepared for 
 the sublimity of the scene, but did not anticipate sucli 
 overpowering beauty. Everything like fear was swal- 
 lowed up in this luxury of color, form, sound, and move- 
 ment. The curves and undulations on the face of the 
 great sheets were like exquisite arabesques in a state of 
 continual change. One could sit or lie upon the rocks 
 above the great British Fall and look down without 
 giddiness into the awful tumult below. The water goes 
 over in a solid transparent sheet with a steady, unhast- 
 ening movement. It meets the clouds of mist rushing
 
 KENTUCKY. 61 
 
 upward from the torment below. From the surface of 
 the fall there burst forth rockets where the air, caught 
 and compressed by the descending mass, explodes in 
 white foam. The deep emerald green of the water con- 
 trasting with the snowy mists, and the rainbow tints 
 refracted by the sunshine, make a beauty which one 
 lingers over with no wish for any change. 
 
 After leaving the canal-boat, and taking my seat in 
 the stage-coach for Rochester and Utica, — for this was 
 long before the days of the New York Central Railroad, 
 — I found a fellow-traveler whose conversation much 
 interested me. He had a great deal to say, for his mind 
 was full and his temper genial. At first, he talked 
 about various eminent persons whom he had known 
 or knew in the United States ; and I discovered that 
 he had had personal intercourse with General Jack- 
 son, Henry Clay, John C. Calhoun, and other leading 
 Americans. Afterward, he spoke of European events ; 
 and it appeared that he had been with the Prussian 
 army which encountered Napoleon at Waterloo, and had 
 been left on the field at Ligny desperately wounded. 
 He was taken to a farmer's house and nursed for weeks, 
 until he became well enough to return home. Mean- 
 time his family had heard nothing of him, and supposed 
 him to be dead. He reached home of a summer after- 
 noon, found the front door open, and went in. He 
 heard the voices of his mother and sister, and listened. 
 They were talking sadly of the death of this dear son 
 and brother, who was only fifteen years old. He walked 
 alive into the room where they were, and we can 
 imagine the scene ; or if we cannot imagine it we can 
 remember the picture in the illustrations to Schiller's 
 " Song of the Bell," by Moritz Retzsch, depicting in two 
 tableaux the return of the son from his years of travel. 
 His father and mother, in the first picture, are sitting 
 by their table, and for a moment do not recognize the 
 manly stranger who stands before them. But in the
 
 62 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 next scene they have recognized him. He has thrown 
 down on the floor his cloak and staff and knapsack, 
 a.nd has fallen on his knees by his mother's chair. His 
 head is in her lap, her own head is on his neck and 
 her arm round his shoulder, while the father, from the 
 other side of the table, is leaning forward, reaching out 
 both hands toward the dear son. Somewhat like this 
 must have been the scene in the little house in Germany, 
 when he who was supposed to be dead returned like 
 one risen from the grave. Then this man of many ad- 
 ventures told us how at twenty-one he volunteered in 
 the Greek war of independence, traveling on foot with 
 some of his fellow-students throvigh Switzerland and 
 France to Marseilles. Scarcely landed in Greece, they 
 were arrested by orders from Russia, and sent back 
 under the charge of an officer. Landed on the eastern 
 coast of Italy, they crossed the peninsula, passing at no 
 great distance from Rome. It seemed impossible for 
 them to lose the opportunity of visiting this city of 
 their dreams ; but it was useless for them to try to ob- 
 tain permission from their guard. So they made their 
 escape when he was asleep, and reached Rome without 
 being overtaken. They wisely decided to go immedi- 
 ately to the Prussian Minister, who, fortunately for 
 them, was Baron Niebuhr. They told him what they 
 had done, and asked his permission to remain a few 
 days in Rome, to see its wonders. Niebuhr looked 
 grave, reprimanded them seriously for their violation 
 of discipline, and told them to come back in the even- 
 ing, and he would let them know the decision he had 
 reached. After they had gone Niebuhr went into the 
 parlor and told his wife of the affair. She said : " Well, 
 Niebuhr, you will let them stay, will you not ? " " Of 
 course I shall," said he, " only I thought it necessary 
 to frighten them a little." So when they returned in 
 the evening, very anxious as to the result, he took them 
 at once into his house, and kept them there for some
 
 KENTUCKY. 63 
 
 time as members of his family ; and of course the love 
 and reverence "which my companion expressed for him 
 knew no bounds. Then he told me of his life in Berlin 
 and his admiration for Schleiermacher, of whom I was 
 glad to hear something more, as I had been so much 
 interested in his published writings. He described 
 how the great church in Berlin where Schleiermacher 
 preached was crowded with an audience consisting of 
 every class in society, from high court officers, students, 
 and professors to the humblest day -laborers, — all of 
 them deeply moved by the mingled depth and feeling 
 of his discourse. After a while I learned that my ac- 
 complished fellow-traveler was Dr. Francis Lieber. We 
 kept together as far as Trenton Falls ; stopping at dif- 
 ferent places on the way, in each of which he found the 
 objects most deserving of a visit. I took lessons from 
 him in the art of traveling. He showed me that the 
 people who live in a place seldom know in what its 
 real curiosities consist, and that a careful investigation 
 is necessary in order to find them out. Thus in one 
 place we went to see a weigh-lock, where the canal- 
 boats were floated into a gigantic pair of scales, and the 
 water being drawn off the weight of the boat and cargo 
 is ascertained within two or three pounds. In other 
 towns we visited the institutions for which each was 
 most distinguished ; seeing in one place a reformatory, 
 and in another flour -mills, and in another building- 
 yards for canal-boats. When we reached Trenton Falls 
 the water in Canada Creek was so high that the usual 
 foot-path by the side of the river was impassable, and 
 nothing remained for us bvit to clamber along the edge 
 of the rocky precipice as best we could, above the 
 rushing torrent. Dr. Lieber had practiced gymnastics 
 in Germany. I had been taught them by Dr. Follen 
 at Cambridge. So I succeeded in folloAving where he 
 led the way ; finding places with difficulty into which 
 we could insert our toes while clinging with the ends
 
 64 AUTOBIOGRAPHY, 
 
 of our fingers to the projections of rock above. I did 
 not wish to be outdone ; though I confess I was well 
 pleased when he decided that we could go no farther and 
 must return. After we parted I received some letters 
 from this new friend, one of which contained a German 
 poem to Niagara, which, like myself, he had just seen 
 for the first time. In this poem, as I recollect, he ex- 
 pressed the idea that if Dante had seen Niagara he 
 would have found new images there for his •'' Inferno." 
 
 I saw Chicago for the first time in 1840. My bro- 
 thers, William and Abraham, had already been living 
 there for some years, and they and my mother occupied 
 a house on the south side of the river near the lake. I 
 think it was upon what was called the Reservation, 
 where originally the Government block-house had stood. 
 Some of the early settlers were still living, such as Mr. 
 Kinzie, Mr. Gurdon Hubbard, and Mr. William B. 
 Ogden. One of these gentlemen showed me a sketch 
 of Chicago as it looked when he first saw it. It con- 
 sisted of two buildings, one on each side of the mouth 
 of the river: the block-house on the south side, and 
 the Indian Agency on the north side. At the time 
 I first saw it, in 1840, it was a town of 7,000 or 8,000 
 inhabitants ; now (1886), less than fifty years after, 
 it has 500,000, and is still growing with rapidity. In 
 1840 it was a very pleasant place. There was scarcely 
 anything on the north side of the river ; but on the 
 south side the houses were pleasantly situated, with 
 open spaces, gardens, and views of the lake. It was 
 a quiet place, with none of the intense activity which 
 now prevails there. 
 
 The easiest way of going to Chicago from the East 
 in those days was to traverse the Lakes in the large 
 and well-appointed steamers from Buffalo by Detroit, 
 Lake Huron, and Mackinaw into Lake Michigan. The 
 voyage was charming, for we had beautiful views of 
 the shores, bays, forests, and promontories near which
 
 KENTUCKY. 05 
 
 we passed. We sailed into some of the bays, and found 
 the water so transparent that we could see the beautiful 
 agates and carnelians twentj^ feet below. At Mackinaw 
 were curious cliffs, and we saw Indians in their tents 
 waiting to receive their pensions from the United 
 States. 
 
 No Unitarian church edifice then existed in Chicago. 
 I preached one Sunday in a large room, a second in a 
 Universalist church, and in the evening lectured by re- 
 quest of the minister, Mr. Patterson, in the First Pres- 
 byterian Church, on " The Evils of Slavery."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 LIFE IN KENTUCKY. 
 
 It was early in the morning when the mail-boat 
 reached the expanse of water above Louisville, Here 
 is the only place throughout its whole extent where the 
 navigation of the Ohio River is interrupted by falls, 
 and these falls have built up the city of Louisville. 
 When the boat stopped at the landing I went to a hotel, 
 and after breakfast called at the office of the gentle- 
 man with whom I had corresponded. This was Mr, 
 Simeon S. Goodwin, a native of Plymouth, Mass., who 
 had traveled extensively, and had now been living in 
 Louisville many years. He was a Yankee of the Yan- 
 kees, practical, energetic, persistent, an excellent man 
 of business, but retaining from his New England origin 
 and education a love of knowledge and an interest in 
 all the old New England institutions. He had given 
 much time and labor to establish public schools in the 
 city, and they were in full and successful operation, 
 the teachers being better paid than in New England 
 towns. He was the first to organize an insurance 
 company, of which during many years he had been the 
 actuary or secretary. Although the Kentuckians re- 
 cognized his usefulness, and could not do without him, 
 he was by no means popular, for he continually let 
 them understand how inferior they were in their ways 
 to the people of New England. He never hesitated to 
 express his opinions in politics or religion ; and on 
 these questions, as on others, he was apt to be on the 
 unpopular side. In politics he was an old-fashioned
 
 LIFE IX KENTUCKY. 67 
 
 Federalist, while the people around him were Demo- 
 cratic. When Jefferson died, in 1826, and the people 
 were lamenting his loss as that of the greatest man in 
 the nation, Mr. Goodwin said publicly that " it was a 
 pity he had not died fifty years before." This remark, 
 which seemed to him a truism, nearly caused him to 
 be mobbed. From New England he had also brought 
 his Unitarian belief, and having established public 
 schools, he next proceeded to found a Unitarian church. 
 He had induced several Unitarian ministers of the pe- 
 riod to give courses of lectures in Louisville, with the 
 result of bringing together a small company, consisting 
 mostly of New Englanders, but with a sprinkling of 
 Kentuckians and a few others who favored that doc- 
 trine. One of the preachers who made a great impres- 
 sion by the clearness and cogency of his arguments, and 
 by his manly independence of character, was Rev. Ber- 
 nard Whitman, of Waltham, Mass. 
 
 Horace Holley, who had gone from the Hollis Street 
 Church, in Boston, to be president of Transylvania Uni- 
 versity, in Lexington, Ky., had also preached in Louis- 
 ville, during his occasional visits to that city ; and his 
 oratory was well suited to the taste of the people. He 
 was a fluent extempore speaker, with rather a florid 
 rhetoric and an animated delivery, and always made a 
 great impression. Under these influences and by means 
 of Mr. Goodwin's excellent business management, a 
 church building had been erected and fully paid for. 
 There had been one settled minister before I went to 
 the place, Rev. George Chapman ; but ill health had 
 compelled him to leave at the end of the first year. 
 
 I found Mr. Goodwin in his office, where he received 
 me kindly. He had engaged a room for me in the 
 same boarding-house in which he and his wife were 
 then living. Nothing could be more bare and deso- 
 late than this room. It contained, for furniture, a bed, 
 two chairs, a table, and a washstand. The windows
 
 68 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 looked down upon one of the noisiest streets of the 
 city, whence came to my ears the barking of dogs, the 
 shouts of negroes, and sometimes the voice of an auc- 
 tioneer selling a horse, which he rode up and down, cry- 
 ing out, '' Forty dollars for the horse ! " 
 
 Louisville, which has since become one of the most 
 beautiful cities in the country, was in those days one 
 of the ugliest. It consisted of plain brick shops and 
 houses, without any grass plots, and with hardly a tree. 
 The streets were never cleaned, the rain being expected 
 to do the cleansing. Fortunately the limestone rock on 
 which the city stood was absorbent, and everything soon 
 dried up ; so that, on the whole, the health of the place 
 was good. Accustomed as I had been to the hills, the 
 green lanes, and the pleasant shade-trees around Boston, 
 I found the flat expanse on which this city stood very 
 tiresome, and the dirt and ugliness hard to be borne. A 
 little piece of the native forest, called Jacob's Woods, 
 had been left untouched by the axe, and to this I often 
 took my morning and evening walk. During a large 
 part of the year the falls of the river were low, and the 
 flat limestone rocks above them were bare, and I took 
 pleasure in frequently visiting these rocks and falls. 
 On the shipping port bottom-lands below the falls, there 
 stood one solitary majestic sycamore, which measured 
 forty-four feet in circumference, four or five feet from 
 the ground. This tree I often made a terminus of my 
 walk before breakfast. The middle of the day, in the 
 summer, was too oppressive and sultry for walking ; 
 and, as I did not wish to lose my habit of pedestrian 
 exercise, I usually took my walk before breakfast, to 
 the great surprise of the Kentuckians, who could not 
 understand why any one should walk who was able to 
 ride on horseback, and they sometimes kindly offered 
 me the use of their saddle-horses, thinking that I 
 walked because I did not own a horse. 
 
 When any friend from the North visited Louisville,
 
 LIFE L\ KENTUCKY. G9 
 
 and called to see me, I usually took him to this great 
 sycamore tree as the chief curiosity of the region. But 
 what was my horror, one day, to find that it had been cut 
 down and was resting its mighty length upon the ground. 
 On inquiry as to the cause of this destruction, I learned 
 that it had been felled by a squatter who lived in a 
 cabin some little distance away, and who seemed to 
 have no reason for cutting it down except the back- 
 woodsman's ingrained hostility to trees. For in the 
 West the period had returned spoken of in the Bible, 
 " when man was accounted great according as he had 
 lifted his axe against the thick trees." But even as it 
 lay on the ground the tree was a wonder. Though it 
 had decayed at the top, and lost its upper branches, it 
 was about ninety feet long, and the diameter of the butt 
 end was fourteen feet. 
 
 During what remained of the first week, beside call- 
 ing on a few of the people and writing letters to my 
 friends, in the hope of getting answers from them, I 
 was trying to prepare for my first Sunday. In regard 
 to this I made two great mistakes. I had heard that 
 the people in the West preferred extempore speaking, 
 and I thought I must preach an extempore sermon. As 
 I had been accustomed to speak often in debate with- 
 out difficulty, I imagined that I could preach without 
 notes. But I found it was one thing to answer an 
 opponent in debate, and quite another thing to address 
 a congregation. All the thoughts I had arranged in my 
 mind disappeared, and I found that I had nothing to 
 say. So after talking in a very desultory way for fif- 
 teen or twenty minutes, I brought my sermon suddenly 
 to an end. I knew I had made an utter failure, and, 
 mortified beyond expression, I left the house without 
 speaking to any one, and went back to my room. No 
 one in the society said anything to me about this fail- 
 ure, nor did I speak to any one about it. Some twenty 
 years after, in Greenfield, Mass., I met a gentleman
 
 70 A UTOBIOGRA PHY. 
 
 who told me that he was in the Louisville church when 
 I preached my first sermon. " You heard a pretty poor 
 one," I said. '' That 's so," said he ; " about as bad a one 
 as ever I heard." '' Do you know what the people said 
 about it ? " I asked. He answered, " Yes ; after you 
 had gone some of them stopped and talked about it. 
 One man said, ' We had better let him go back at once 
 to Boston, for he will never do anything here.' But an- 
 other remarked, ' Do not let us be in a hurry, — perhaps 
 he will do better by and by. I noticed that there seemed 
 to be some sense in his prayer.' So they concluded to 
 wait awhile before speaking to you." 
 
 After this experience I took care to write my ser- 
 mons for Sunday morning. In the afternoon, when 
 there were fewer persons present, I spoke from a brief, 
 or a few notes on paper. But my great and unexpected 
 difficulty was in finding something to say. My mind 
 was sufficiently full of thought. I had read a great 
 many books ; I had been deeply interested by such 
 writers as Channing, Dewey, Carlyle, Lord Bacon, and 
 the older English writers ; and I had read the largest 
 part of the works of Goethe, Schiller, Tieck, Novalis, 
 and other German writers. But nothing of all this 
 seemed the right material for sermons. Few of my 
 congregation were readers, and the books which inter- 
 ested me would not be interesting to them. So I sat 
 by my table half the day, looking at the blank paper, 
 with my mind equally blank. A great »weight of re- 
 sponsibility rested on me. I felt as if I ought to say 
 something very important, but it would not come. As 
 Saadi of Shiraz remarks, I was trying to squeeze the 
 juice from a dried-up brain, and to digest the smoke of 
 a profitless lamp. There was an easy way out of the 
 difficulty, if I had only thought of it. I might have 
 made use of the writings of Channing, Ware, James 
 Walker, and other Unitarians, which would have been 
 entirely new to the people, and which contained just
 
 LIFE IX KENTUCKY. 71 
 
 the things they wished to hear. I might have repro- 
 duced their thoughts in my own words, and given entire 
 satisfaction. But I was possessed with the notion that 
 I ought to give them only my own thoughts. And, 
 alas ! those thoughts were very slow in coming. So I 
 was oppressed by a great sense of duty without any 
 ability of fulfilling it. As I sat at the table, trying to 
 write, I saw through the window a man making chairs, 
 and I envied him, because when he had made a chair he 
 knew he had done something, but I, with all my effort, 
 could not do anything. Those were bitter days. I do 
 not see how one could suffer more than I did for the 
 first month or two. There was no one with whom to 
 consult, no one to give me any sympathy. The only 
 peace I had was in my dreams at night. Then the 
 weight of care was removed, and I was again among 
 my old companions and friends. When I awoke in the 
 morning I immediately felt the pressure of the burden 
 coming back upon me. But it never occurred to me 
 to give up or go away. I worked doggedly on, until I 
 began to see my way more clearly. I was very home- 
 sick, but I never mentioned it in my letters. I hung 
 around the walls of my chamber all the souvenirs of 
 home ami friends I had brought with me, so as to see 
 them when I looked up, and be refreshed. Before I left 
 Boston, Margaret Fuller had given me a blank-book, 
 or album, richly bound and with a Bramah lock. On 
 the first page of this she had written these mottoes : — 
 
 " Extraordinary, generous seeking." 
 
 " Be revered 
 In thee the faithful hope that still looks forward, 
 And keeps the life-spark warm of future action 
 Beneath the cloak of patient sufferance." 
 
 To this book I confided my perplexities and troubles, 
 and I encouraged myself by reading the mottoes. 
 
 There was an important question which had to be
 
 72 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 settled before I could go much further. I must decide 
 whether it should be my main object, in preaching, to 
 teach and defend Unitarian doctrines as opposed to 
 the Orthodoxy of the place and time, or to aim chiefly 
 to make people feel the power of religion on the daily 
 life. In other words, should I preach Unitarianism as 
 doctrine, or as practical Christianity ? Clearly, the 
 first course would be much the easier, and at the same 
 time more popular and apparently successful. It would 
 give me a larger congregation and build up the soci- 
 ety. It was what most of the people wished to hear, 
 and this was the only place in which they could hear 
 it. If the Unitarian doctrine was true and important, 
 was it not my duty to devote a large part of my preach- 
 ing to its promulgation ? Why had the people built 
 the church except for this ? Here, in the midst of a 
 peculiarly narrow and bigoted Orthodoxy, it seemed as 
 if it were right to lay stress on a liberal and rational 
 form of Christianity. But though these reasons were 
 strong, they did not convince me. I believed that 
 every church should have for its first object the teach- 
 ing of positive Christianity, bringing comfort to the sor- 
 rowful, making God seem near, dwelling on the duties 
 of human life and the blessed help that comes from 
 divine love. Therefore, I made this the main purpose 
 of my preaching, and seldom went out of my way to 
 engage in controversy. I read the religious books of all 
 denominations, especially such writers as Jeremy Tay- 
 lor, St. Augustine, Luther, Wesley, Robert Hall, Cecil, 
 Scougal, Doddridge, and Jacob Abbott. From the last 
 writer I received much good. I read his books, " The 
 Young Christian," " The Corner Stone," " The Way to 
 do Good," "The Teacher," etc. In these writings I 
 found the best part of Orthodoxy, disengaged from its 
 dogmatism ; and I also learned from him a clear, plain 
 style and the help of appropriate illustrations. 
 
 During my first year in Kentucky I wrote between
 
 LIFE IN KENTUCKY. 73 
 
 seventy and eighty sermons; but of all these I preached 
 only one or two a second time. The others I dis- 
 missed to oblivion. During my second year I wrote 
 only fifty or sixty, but perhaps six or eight of these 
 were worth repeating. I began to find better things to 
 say. In talking with the people I was able to learn 
 what their difficulties were and what they needed to 
 hear ; and this gave me a part of my material. Then I 
 learned to look more deeply into myself and my own 
 experience ; and I discovered that as people are much 
 alike, the experience of others would vary little from 
 my own, and what did me good Avould be likely to help 
 them. And, finally, I began to be more and more inter- 
 ested in the Bible, especially the New Testament. I 
 learned how to study it more thoroughly and put to it 
 more searching questions. And with my own increas- 
 ing interest the interest of my hearers also increased. 
 I adopted the plan of holding evening meetings in the 
 houses of different members of the society, for the free 
 discussion of religious, moral, philosophical, and social 
 questions. These gradually became interesting, and 
 were very well attended, the parlors being often 
 crowded. Although there was not much reading done 
 by the people, they were independent thinkers, and 
 the questions before us were thoroughly discussed from 
 every point of view and by persons of every shade of 
 opinion. I always presided, and learned a great deal 
 alDOut directing such a conversation and keeping it to one 
 point ; which knowledge I found of use afterward when 
 holding similar meetings in the Church of the Disciples, 
 in Boston. Of course there were persons who talked 
 too much and took more than their share of the conver- 
 sation. It sometimes became necessary to see such per- 
 sons, and ask them to restrain themselves. I never 
 had any difficulty in doing this ; nor, I believe, did 
 I ever wound their feelings. One man, a Scotchman, 
 a Mr. D., was particularly fond of giving to us his
 
 74 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 theory of religion. It was pure Antinomianism. " We 
 are saved," he said, " by faith, and faith means believ- 
 ing that Jesus is the Son of God, and sent by Him ; and 
 if we believe this we shall be saved." " Morality," he 
 said, " had nothing to do with it. No matter how bad 
 a man was, if he only believed in Christ he would be 
 saved." None of us agreed with him in this view ; but 
 we were willing to hear it expressed now and then. 
 This did not satisfy him ; he desired to reproduce it on 
 all occasions, and I found that this interfered with the 
 interest felt in the meetings. I went to see Mr. D., 
 and fi*ankly told him that he took a great deal more 
 than his share of the conversation. He at once agreed 
 to reduce the amount of his communications. " I will 
 tell you," said he, " what I will do. I will not speak at 
 all until you call upon me for my opinion." " Oh, well," 
 I replied, *' that will do." The next meeting happened 
 to be a very full one, and Mr. D. sat behind me, 
 where I did not see him till the end of the evening. 
 Looking round accidentally I caught sight of him. 
 Evidently he had been restraining himself by a mighty 
 effort. He was moving uneasily from one side of his 
 chair to the other, with gestures which seemed to in- 
 dicate that he was, like Elihu, inwardly fermenting 
 and in great danger of explosion. Then I said, " What 
 is your opinion, Mr. D., of this question ? " And his 
 opinion came. 
 
 I was much interested in a phase of belief which pre- 
 vailed to some extent among the intelligent Kentuck- 
 ians. They had been so often told from the pulpit that 
 if they did not believe every word in the Bible they were 
 infidels, that many supposed themselves to be so. Find- 
 ing, perhaps, something in the Old Testament inconsis- 
 tent with what seemed to them true and right, they 
 thought it necessary to reject Christianity on this ac- 
 count. I therefore felt it my duty to explain to them 
 and to others that this doctrine of literal, infallible
 
 LIFE IN KENTUCKY. 75 
 
 inspiration of the letter had no foundation, and that 
 one could believe in Christ without believing in Jonah 
 or Joshua. 
 
 One day a Louisville lady, Mrs. W., asked me to come 
 and see her, and told me she had no faith in Christian- 
 ity as a Divine revelation, but felt unhappy, and wished 
 to attain this faith if it were possible. Her objections 
 seemed to her so formidable that she thought they 
 could not be answered. Inquiring as to their nature, I 
 found that they all rested on the doctrine of the infalli- 
 ble inspiration of the whole Bible. She supposed that 
 if she doubted or disbelieved any part, even of the Old 
 Testament, she must give up the whole. And as there 
 were many things, especially in the Old Testament, that 
 she was unable to accept as literal verity, she imagined 
 that she must not believe in Jesus Christ. I convinced 
 her that the Old Testament was no essential part of the 
 Christian belief, however full it might be in many 
 places of genuine inspiration ; and that even in the 
 New Testament there were many things which it was 
 not necessary either to believe or to disbelieve. I suc- 
 ceeded in making her see that if we believe in Jesus as 
 one who can bring us to God and be our true guide in 
 religion and life, this is enough. If we find that his 
 teaching satisfies the needs of the mind and heart, this is 
 sufficient reason for taking him as our friend and mas- 
 ter. When she reached this conclusion she desired to 
 be baptized and to join our church, which was accord- 
 ingly done. But this was not the end of her experience. 
 Some time after, I was called up in the middle of the 
 night by her husband, who wished me to come immedi- 
 ately and see his wife, who was in great distress. Her 
 child had died, and she was inconsolable. All I could 
 say to her seemed to have no effect upon her mind. 
 But the next day, when I called again, I found her tran- 
 quil and submissive. She then said, " I can understand 
 now why my child is taken. When I first sent for you,
 
 76 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 desiring to become a Christian, I had a secret feeling 
 that it was sinful not to believe, and that I should be 
 punished for my unbelief. And as I could conceive of 
 no more severe punishment than the loss of my child I 
 feared that he might be taken away, but hoped that if 
 I became a Christian God would spare his life. I see 
 now that my motives were wrong, and that instead of 
 accepting the will of God I was trying to make a bar- 
 gain with Him. But I now believe that I can sincerely 
 accept his will as wiser and better than my own." 
 
 Not a great while after this, Mrs. W. was attacked 
 with pulmonary disease, and was advised' by her phy- 
 sician to go to New Orleans. Before going she had a 
 meeting in her room of some of the members of the 
 church, and together we partook of the Lord's Sup- 
 per. She bade us good-bye with much tenderness, not 
 expecting to see us again. At New Orleans she was 
 visited by her cousin, Rev. John Breckenridge, of the 
 Presbyterian Church, a brother of the great preacher, 
 Robert J. Breckenridge, and himself a minister of 
 ability. When he found that Mrs. W. was a Unita- 
 rian he was much shocked, and began to argue with 
 her on the subject. But she replied, ''Cousin John, 
 I formed my opinions when I was well and my mind 
 strong. I do not intend to reconsider them now when 
 my mind is weak. If you will try to strengthen my 
 faith I shall be glad to see you ; but if you wish to dis- 
 turb it, I should prefer that you should not come." He 
 then asked her to tell him what she believed, and on 
 hearing it' admitted that it was enough. She was sur- 
 rounded by Presbyterians, but was so serene, and spoke 
 so tranquilly of her approaching death, with entire 
 faith in God and immortality, that it produced a great 
 impression on those who saw her. 
 
 One day I noticed in church a gentleman whom I 
 had not seen there before, whose arm hung over the 
 pew-door, holding in his hand a riding-whip. After
 
 LIFK IN KENTUCKY. 77 
 
 church I inquired who he Avas, and learned that he was 
 Judge Speed, a gentleman who had a farm a few miles 
 out of the city. I was informed that people called him 
 an infidel, but that he was universally respected, and 
 was a very good man. Afterward I became very inti- 
 mate with him and with his family. He was like a 
 father to me, and his house was like my own home. He 
 had a large farm about six miles out of town on the road 
 to Bardstown. One field of this farm contained eighty 
 acres, and hemp was raised in it every year, and grew 
 ten or twelve feet high. Hemp is an exhausting crop, 
 but the field had produced it for a great many years 
 without any fertilizer being used, the land being among 
 the richest in Kentucky. Walking across this field one 
 day, I found a smooth stone about six inches long. It 
 looked like an Indian axe, but I left it where I found 
 it, and when I reached the house spoke about it to 
 Judge Speed. He asked me where I had found it, and 
 on my reply said, " Xo, that is not an Indian stone ; I 
 know the stone you mean." He seemed to be ac- 
 quainted with every stone in this eighty-acre field. 
 
 Judge Speed explained to me why he was called an 
 infidel. He said, "When I was a boy, and went to 
 meeting, the minister took the Bible in his hand, and 
 said, ' Every word within these lids is the word of God, 
 and if you do not believe it, you will be damned as sure 
 as I kill that fly,' slapping his hand on a fly on the 
 Bible. I was an infidel to this kind of religion, and 
 thought it my duty to protest against it. But I have 
 no hostility to the kind of religion which you and many 
 others now preach. I go from one church to another 
 and watch you all, and see that all the churches are 
 making progress." 
 
 Several of Judge Speed's children became members 
 of our society, and all of them were like brothers and 
 sisters to me. One of his sons, Joshua, kept a store at 
 one time in Springfield, Illinois, and there became the
 
 78 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 intimate friend of Abraham Lincoln, — the most inti- 
 mate friend, in fact, the President ever had. Lincoln 
 visited Farmington, the Speed place, some time after I 
 left Kentucky. Many years later, when I was revisit- 
 ing Kentucky, I spent a day with Joshua Speed, who 
 told me many interesting and characteristic anecdotes 
 of his friend. 
 
 Although Judge Speed had few opportunities for 
 education, and had spent his life in Kentucky as a 
 farmer, up early and late, riding over his plantation, 
 superintending seventy negroes, and educating twelve 
 children, I possess some letters from him which would 
 be creditable to the most finished scholar. His mind 
 was active, vigorous, and free, ever open to new truths. 
 He thought and read with the ardor of a young student, 
 laying aside old opinions, and accepting better ones 
 when he found them. His heart was as fresh as his 
 mind, throbbing tenderly as that of a woman in answer 
 to a kind word. He was a true and faithful friend, a 
 wise and kind father. When he lost his youngest child, 
 his little daughter Anne, he mourned over her as one 
 who had fully sympathized with her young thoughts and 
 desires. He was called " Judge " because he had been 
 appointed associate judge in one of the court districts. 
 The associate judges were men, usually without legal 
 training, who were put by the side of the chief judge 
 in order to temper his decisions with practical common 
 sense. 
 
 Judge Speed was a slaveholder. But he did not be- 
 lieve in slavery. He thought it wrong in itself and 
 injurious to the State, and expected, like most intelli- 
 gent Kentuckians at that time, that Kentucky would 
 before long emancipate its slaves. Meantime he held 
 them as a trust, and did everything he could to make 
 them comfortable. If one of his slaves was discon- 
 tented and ran away, — which rarely happened, — he 
 did not try to bring him back. A young man from the
 
 LIFE IN KENTUCKY. 79 
 
 North once said to him : " Your slaves seem to be very 
 happy, sir." He replied, ''I try to make them com- 
 fortable ; but I do not think that a slave can be happy. 
 God Almighty never meant a man to be a slave ; and 
 you cannot make a slave happy." 
 
 After his death, his children, who had been educated 
 to the same views, finding that Kentucky refused to 
 abolish slavery, set free the slaves whom they had in- 
 herited, and gave them farms in Indiana. 
 
 Judge Speed was a good representative of a certain 
 type of Kentuckians, — strong-minded, independent, 
 energetic men. They were frank and open, very much 
 interested in political questions and public affairs. 
 They did not read much ; but they talked with each 
 other a great deal. Every summer there were held 
 throughout the State what were called political barbe- 
 cues, where leading speakers discussed with each other 
 the public questions of the day. Candidates for Con- 
 gress or the Legislature defended their public acts and 
 opinions ; and the representatives of each of the great 
 parties were heard by the people in turn. The conse- 
 quence was a much better and broader knowledge of 
 public affairs than is usual in the Northern States, 
 where each man obtains his knowledge of politics from 
 his own party newspaper. 
 
 This system also produced excellent speakers. What 
 was called stump-speaking was simply addressing an 
 audience of both parties and of all shades of political 
 opinion, collected in the fields or woods, and spending 
 the larger part of a summer day in listening to such 
 debates. On these occasions it was customary to have 
 for dinner an ox, baked in the following way. A hole 
 was dug in the ground, and a wood fire built in it ; 
 when the wood was reduced to coal and ashes, the 
 meat was put in whole, covered up, and left till thor- 
 oughly cooked, and then eaten with other provisions, as 
 at a picnic.
 
 80 AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 
 
 Each speaker was obliged, as in a tournament, to 
 maintain his opinions against all comers. This devel- 
 oped quickness of thought and readiness of speech, 
 and made the best extempore speakers in the country. 
 They united with fluency caution and precision, and 
 knew exactly what to say and how to say it, so as to 
 anticipate objections and conciliate opponents. One of 
 the best of these speakers was said to have been the 
 famous Joseph Hamilton Daviess. I have heard old 
 men, who remembered him, rank him above Henry 
 Clay as a stump speaker, though Clay was regarded as 
 a great master in this kind of oratory. One of Clay's 
 feats as a speaker was at the beginning of the war of 
 1812. He was candidate for Congress, and his district 
 was opposed to the war, having lost many of its best 
 sons in previous struggles with the Indians. Mr. Clay's 
 opponent had made good use of this state of feeling, 
 and had attempted to show that the war was unneces- 
 sary and in every way undesirable. When Clay rose to 
 speak, the feeling of opposition to him and his cause 
 was at its height. He did not attempt to oppose it, but 
 fell in with the current, speaking with much feeling of 
 the evils of war, and expressing warm sympathy with 
 those who had lost sons and brothers in Indian cam- 
 paigns. Having thus obtained full possession of the 
 minds of the people, he said, '' But are we not willing 
 to bear all this for the sake of our country ? " and 
 appealed so powerfully to their patriotic feelings as to 
 win them over to his own views.
 
 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 CHAPTEK VII. 
 DR. Clarke's early years. 
 
 [The Autobiography with which this book opens was begun by Dr. 
 Clarke iu the year 1883. It carries the story of his life nearly to the 
 year 1840. He never revised these chapters ; and there are some 
 gaps in them which he probably would have filled. It is to assist the 
 reader that we tie together a few other notes of the same time, taken 
 from other sources.] 
 
 James Freeman Clarke was born in Hanover, New 
 Hampshire, on the fourth of April, 1810. His father, 
 Samuel Clarke, was living there for a time in order to 
 study medicine under Dr. Nathan Smith, who was con- 
 nected with Dartmouth College. When James was a 
 few weeks old, Mr. Clarke brought his wife and chil- 
 dren to Newton, where he left them with his mother, 
 Mrs. Freeman, while he went back to Hanover to finish 
 his course of study. Before the end of the year he had 
 taken his degree as doctor of medicine, and returned to 
 Massachusetts, where he entered upon the practice of 
 his profession. They lived first in that part of Newton 
 noAv called Newtonville, Avith Eev. James Freeman, 
 well known to every one then in Boston, as the minis- 
 ter of King's Chapel. 
 
 This chapel, as its name implies, had been founded 
 by and for the croAvn officers in Boston, at the time 
 when Andros was the royal governor. It continued as 
 the " King's Chapel " till the last royal governor left
 
 82 DIAEY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Boston, in 1776. The proprietors of the chapel invited 
 James Freeman to be their minister, and settled him in 
 the year 1782 without the help of any bishop, there be- 
 ing, in fact, no bishop who could have helped them. 
 Mr. Freeman and they, alike, understood that he and 
 they were not to be bound by the articles and creeds of 
 the English Church ; and thus it happened that the 
 King's Chapel, after the king ceased to reign in Amer- 
 ica, became the first Unitarian church, known under 
 that name, in America. It seems worth while to say 
 this, in beginning the life of the grandson of James 
 Freeman, as that grandson was to become a preacher 
 and leader widely known in the Unitarian communion 
 of this country. 
 
 In 1810, Dr. Freeman lived, for the greater part of 
 the year, in Newton, from which place it was neces- 
 sary to drive to Boston, six or seven miles away, for 
 the discharge of his duties there. To his house in 
 Newton, Dr. Samuel Clarke, who was the son of Mrs. 
 Freeman by her first marriage, brought his wife and 
 children on their return from Hanover ; and there they 
 remained for the rest of that year. Dr. Clarke then 
 removed to another house in the neighborhood. But 
 Dr. Freeman was fond of his godson James, and al- 
 ways wished to have him as an inmate of his own 
 family. So that it was in Dr. Freeman's house and 
 under his immediate care that James Freeman Clarke 
 spent most of his boyhood. " Dr. Freeman was always 
 looked upon by the children of his stepson, Samuel 
 Clarke, in the light of a grandfather, and his affection 
 and kindness were as great as if they were his nearest 
 blood relatives." ^ 
 
 The two houses were near each other, so that the 
 children were not much separated by the arrangement 
 which provided for James a home with Dr. Freeman. 
 
 Another grandfather and grandmother, General Wil- 
 
 1 From a letter of Samuel C. Clarke, J. F. C's older brother.
 
 DB. CLARKE'S EARLY YEARS. 83 
 
 liam Hull and his wife, lived about a mile and a half 
 from Dr. Freeman. The autobiography gives an inter- 
 esting account of the boy's relations with them. Gen- 
 eral Hull is but little remembered now, except in con- 
 nection with the surrender of Detroit to the English in 
 the year 1812, and the charge of treason on which he 
 was then tried, at the instance of the weak and incom- 
 petent administration of this country, which tried to 
 make him its scapegoat. It is only necessary here to 
 say that General Hull did not lose the regard and re- 
 spect of his neighbors and fellow-citizens. 
 
 Mr. Clarke's autobiography dwells so pleasantly on 
 Dr. Freeman's Avays of teaching his grandson that there 
 is no need of sa^dng more of them. But there was no 
 subject on which, in after life, Mr. Clarke loved more 
 to talk than the skill with which he had been lured by 
 his grandfather to learn Latin without being aware of 
 it. He is one more instance in that distinguished list 
 of happy children who have been so fortunate as to be 
 well educated before they went to school, or, like Stu- 
 art Mill, without going to school at all. 
 
 He speaks of the Boston Latin School, in the Autobi- 
 ography, with the pride and regard with which almost 
 all the graduates look back to it. He was at the school 
 at a distinguished period of its history. After a long 
 decline, greatly regretted by the best citizens, it had 
 been placed under the charge of Benjamin Apthorp 
 Gould, a young man, an elegant classical scholar, and a 
 master of discipline. The attendance at the school, 
 which had been very small, soon became large, and it 
 was without rival in Boston. Scholars were sent to it 
 from a great distance, to be admitted on special terms 
 and as a favor. On a catalogue of the school at that 
 time, which Mr. Clarke kept and prized as having once 
 belonged to Charles Sumner, there are the names of 
 many persons still remembered for public services. 
 Among them are Epes S. Dixwell, George Stillman
 
 84 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Hillard, Robert Charles Winthrop, Charles Sumner, and 
 AVeudel] Phillips. Ralph Waldo Emerson and William 
 Henry Furness, from the same school, had entered col- 
 lege in 1817. A letter from Mr. Samuel C. Clarke pre- 
 serves the memory of a contribution which the school- 
 boys made for Bunker Hill Monument, when the enter- 
 prise of building it was begun. It seems that James 
 Freeman Clarke wrote a poem, which was delivered 
 with the boys' offering. It ended with these lines : — 
 
 " We too, thongh children, our small boon may give, 
 We too may bid our fathers' glory live ; 
 And we the childish toy will throw aside, 
 And bring our stone, to swell the column's pride." 
 
 During all this period, his life was, of course, mostly 
 spent in Boston. His father and mother had removed 
 to Dr. Freeman's Boston house, in Vine Street. Vine 
 Street, now shut up a good deal by what are called 
 the improvements of modern times, and crowded with 
 such a population as comes in when the separate rooms 
 of houses are let to separate tenants, was then a new 
 street, pretty, airy, and near the water. The pilgrim 
 must not judge of its aspect then by what he sees to- 
 day. 
 
 Young Clarke entered Harvard College in 1825, in a 
 class to which Dr. Holmes has given celebrity by the 
 charming poems which he has read at its frequent 
 meetings. :Mr. Clarke's own study of his college life 
 in the ^Autobiography is very interesting and valuable. 
 Of his part in it, more than one of his classmates have 
 given accounts which show how far, in the boy of six- 
 teen and seventeen, the man could be discerned. It is 
 interesting to observe that IVIr. Emerson had returned 
 to Cambridge in the same year, and in 1826 was keep- 
 ing a school in the Hedge house on Winthrop Square. 
 He lived in Divinity Hall at Cambridge until 1829, so 
 that he and :Mr. Clarke must have met each other once
 
 DR. CLARKE'S EARLY YEARS. 85 
 
 and again in those days. I think, however, that they 
 did not form a personal acquaintance until 1832. In 
 that year, in a MS. '< Journal of the Understanding" 
 is this note : " Thursday, December 5. Patterson carried 
 me to see Mr, Emerson. Had a conversation on Goethe, 
 German Literature, Carlyle, etc." 
 
 Mr. Clarke's own account of his college life is so 
 full that I refrain from adding many of the interesting 
 reminiscences which his classmates have given me. It 
 is clear that he was a favorite, — but I should say that 
 they did not anticipate his career as a leader of opinion. 
 His personal courage, his skill as a gymnast, and his 
 friendly good nature, were all noted then, and charac- 
 terize the anecdotes told of him. More than one class- 
 mate still speaks of his terror when he saw Clarke 
 standing on the top of the tall mast, which he describes, 
 upon the Delta. There was an occasion when an ef- 
 figy which hung from one window of Hollis was on the 
 edge of capture by a " parietal officer," when " James " 
 appeared from the entry of Stoughton Hall, cut down 
 the offending image just in time, and retired to safe 
 seclusion. 
 
 Of his literary work he speaks almost contemptu- 
 ously. A Bowdoin prize dissertation is preserved in 
 the original manuscript. The subject is, " How far 
 political ignorance in the people is to be depended upon 
 for the security of absolute governments in Europe." 
 It will be remembered that these were the palmy days 
 of the Holy Alliance, and that ncAvs of Neapolitan and 
 Greek insurrections was in the air. The essay is the 
 essay of a boy ; but it is the essay of a boy who had 
 grown up with James Freeman, and had read or heard 
 Dr. Channing. Early in the paper is this passage : — 
 
 " The man of information searches not after liberty 
 because he sees the inhabitants of a country robbed of 
 a few pieces of money, or trampled upon by the horses' 
 hoofs of an insolent nobility, or fathers torn from their
 
 86 DLUiY AND COlillKSPONDENCE. 
 
 families to figlit a tyrant's battles while their wives 
 and children sit starving at home. These evils will 
 excite a glow of indignation on the cheek of any gener- 
 ous man, but they may be remedied by a kind despot, 
 and the sudden resentment will pass away. * It is not 
 individual suffering that causes, in a man of enlarged 
 views, his hatred of tyranny. It is not the dead body 
 of a Lucretia that kindles his patriotism. It is the 
 suffering nature of man, — it is because he sees the be- 
 ing intended by heaven for improvement in mind and 
 far reaches of soul, bound down and prevented from 
 taking its glorious flights, in order that five or six de- 
 scendants of kings may sit on their thrones, and stupefy 
 their spirits in debauchery, or play with the happiness 
 of beings mostly superior to themselves in all things 
 truly worthy of the nature of men." 
 
 The words are the words of a boy, but of a boy who 
 is the father of the man. 
 
 His judicial temperament, which we shall have many 
 occasions to observe, which led him always to study 
 both sides of a question with equal candor, was ob- 
 served even then. A fellow-student, who was among 
 the near friends of his later life, says that when he 
 first knew Clarke he thought him " double-faced," be- 
 cause he noticed only the eagerness with which he ex- 
 amined all parts in a controversy. 
 
 Emerson, as has been said, was living in Divinity 
 Hall, and Clarke, before leaving it, had made the friend- 
 ship, among many others, of F. H. Hedge, H. W. Bel- 
 lows, and AV. G. Eliot. With William Henry Channing 
 he had been intimate from his Latin School days. They 
 sat there side by side. 
 
 This will be a proper place to speak of a certain 
 enthusiastic expectation which at that time quickened 
 the lives of all young people in Xew England who had 
 been trained in the freer schools of religion. The group 
 of leaders who surrounded Dr. Channing had, with him,
 
 DE. CLARKE'S EARLY YEARS. 87 
 
 broken forever from the fetters of Calvinistic tlieolog}'. 
 These young people were trained to know that human 
 nature is not totally depraved- They were taught that 
 there is nothing of which it is not capable. From Dr. 
 Channing down, every writer and preacher believed 
 in the infinite power of education. In England the 
 popular wave for the diffusion of useful knowledge had 
 set in ; and what was called " the March of Intellect " 
 had begun. The great German authors swayed the 
 minds of our young students with all their new power, 
 and with the special seduction which accompanies a 
 discovery, the study of German being wholly new.^ For 
 students who did not read German, Coleridge was open- 
 ing up the larger philosophy. The organization of 
 societies for philanthropic purposes was comparatively 
 new. It promised more than it has ever performed, 
 and even sensible people then supposed that when a 
 hundred men gave each a hundredth part of himself to 
 an enterprise, that enterprise had received an alliance 
 stronger than one devoted man could bring alone. 
 
 For such reasons, and many more, the young New 
 Englanders of liberal training rushed into life, certain 
 that the next half century was to see a complete moral 
 revolution in the world. There was no " indifferentism " 
 with them. They were not quite sure what they were 
 to do about it, but they knew that something was to be 
 done. And no one rightly writes or reads the life of 
 one of these young men or women, unless he fully ap- 
 preciates the force of this enthusiastic hope. 
 
 ' Or almost wholly new. Dr. Bentley, of Salem, read the German 
 rationalistic authors, and had a large library of such literature, as 
 early as the beg-inning- of the century. But the remark in the text 
 may still stand. In 1833 it would have been difficult to buy any Ger- 
 man book in Boston excepting Goethe and Schiller. As late as 1843 I 
 rummaged the Philadelphia book-stores for German books, supposing 
 that the large German population of Pennsylvania might have led to 
 their importation. I could buy hardly any German books in Boston, 
 and all the Philadelphia shops offered were Goethe, Schiller, the 
 Bible and the Psalm-book.
 
 88 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 At the Cambridge Divinity School, it must be con- 
 fessed, these young enthusiasts were then kept in pretty 
 close harness. But they respected their wardens, as 
 well they might. Professor Andrews Norton conducted 
 the criticism of the New Testament. To a certain de- 
 gree, he was indifferent to Hebrew and the criticism of 
 the Old Testament. But he gave signal vivacity to the 
 study of the four Gospels, and the men of that time 
 always went back eagerly to describe their surprise 
 when they found they might study the life of Jesus 
 with such realistic criticism as they would have brought 
 to the history of the American Revolution. The senior 
 Henry Ware was thoroughly read in what was then 
 called " divinity." By this was meant, I suppose, the 
 theories which eighteen centuries of scholarly men had 
 wrought out about the nature of God, the nature of 
 man, and the relations between God and man. 
 
 These gentlemen made the eager students whom they 
 had in hand study Hebrew and Greek, and read criti- 
 cally every word of both Testaments. They taught 
 them what they believed, that if they could find out 
 from the four Gospels what Jesus Christ wanted done 
 to-day, they had an all-sufficient answer for every ques- 
 tion of to-day. They also believed that it was possible 
 to learn just what the Saviour did wish for every con- 
 tingency of to-day. John Winthrop and John Cotton 
 were not more sure that the details of Mosaic legisla- 
 tion could be applied in New England townships, than 
 were the teachers under whom Clarke studied that 
 there was in the four Gospels the detailed direction 
 for the exchange, the market, and the factory in the 
 year 1830. I mean to say that they cried, " To the 
 Law and the Testimony," quite as earnestly as Win- 
 throp and Cotton did, though the " Law and the Testi- 
 mony" were to be found chiefly in the four Gospels. 
 If you had asked whether you were not to go to God 
 in personal prayer for a personal answer in to-day's
 
 DE. CLARKE'S EARLY YEARS. 89 
 
 difficulty, they would have said, " Yes." But I think 
 that in the lessons of the class-room, they would have 
 been apt to tell you to study your New Testament care- 
 fully, and to seek in the instruction of Jesus Christ the 
 answer to all inquiries. 
 
 Of course, however, it was impossible to teach men 
 to rely on their own reason in deciding between two 
 meanings of a Greek word, and not to teach them at 
 the same time that their own reason would tell them 
 what was right and what was wrong. Indeed, the mo- 
 ment these young persons learned from the Saviour 
 that they were themselves sons of God, they took him 
 at his word, and began to go to headquarters for direct 
 instructions. In this habit, they were encouraged by 
 the dominant influence of the younger Henry Ware, 
 one of the mo^ devout of men. In the year 1830, the 
 younger Henry Ware came to the school from the Sec- 
 ond Church in Boston, where he had succeeded Ralph 
 Waldo Emerson. He was a man of rare religious ge- 
 nius, passionately interested in what he would have 
 called the " saving of souls," aggressive as any fanatic 
 revivalist in his Christian enthusiasm, and at the same 
 time, by conviction and on the authority of Scripture, an 
 out-and-out Unitarian. He put into the hands of the di- 
 vinity students the books of the church mystics, and the 
 biographies of Brainerd and other missionaries. While 
 he quickened them in evangelistic zeal, he led them 
 into close personal communion with God, and into a 
 sense of the power of the Spirit. The " immanence of 
 God " has become a theological phrase since that time. 
 It is clear enough, as one reads the biographies, which 
 begin to appear, of the men who were at* work in that 
 Cambridge school of criticism, that criticism itself was 
 bringing them all to that personal sense of the Real 
 Presence which has dominated the Unitarian movement 
 of America for the last half century. These young 
 men could not read their Coleridge or their Goethe
 
 90 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 without emaucipatiiig themselves at once from the 
 wooden philosophy of John Locke, over which they 
 had been made to hammer as undergraduates. They 
 left the school pure idealists, sure of the real presence 
 of God, and sure that society was to be made over again 
 within fifty years. 
 
 In the year 1831, John Gorham Palfrey, afterward 
 known as the historian of New England, and an aggres- 
 sive anti-slavery leader, was appointed to the chair of 
 criticism of the Old and New Testaments.^ He brought 
 to his duty, not only a very accurate knowledge of the 
 subjects especially given to him, but that acute con- 
 science, that interest in history, and that public spirit, 
 which had distinguished him, and which afterward dis- 
 tinguished him, in his work as a citizen. Not long after 
 this time, his father died in Louisiana,Jeaving a large 
 property, of which a considerable part was in slaves. 
 The other heirs proposed that their Northern brother 
 should take his part in money and leave them the 
 slaves, but he declined. He himself went to Louis- 
 iana, brought with him to the North his portion of the 
 slaves, more than forty in number, and settled them in 
 homes, that they might be made free. He thus ranked 
 as a practical abolitionist, long before he connected 
 himself with the movement which bore the name of 
 abolition. In the intimacies of Mr. Palfrey's home, 
 the students of the Divinity School were most cordially 
 welcomed, and to friendships formed there Freeman 
 Clarke owed much in his after life. 
 
 Any one who knew Mr. Clarke intimately in after 
 years, and talked with him on theological subjects, 
 knows how accurately and carefully he went into the 
 school-work of which I have attempted thus to give 
 some account. At the same time he was reading, one 
 would say, everything else ; but especially was he read- 
 ing Goethe. And afterward, in referring to those 
 ^ He was made Doctor of Divinity in 1834.
 
 Dli. CLARKE'S EAliLY YEARS. 91 
 
 happy days, he would always speak with enthusiasm 
 of the larger life which opened upon so many of them, 
 under Goethe's lead. In the chapter of Margaret Ful- 
 ler's biography which he has himself edited, are allu- 
 sions to this revelation, and to the eager and hopeful 
 studies which he conducted with her. 
 
 Dr. Frederick Henry Hedge, the friend of Mr. 
 Clarke's whole life, in speaking of him to me after his 
 death, said, " You do not get a true estimate of Clarke 
 unless you see him as a poet. He approached all sub- 
 jects from the poetical side. This poetical habit of 
 looking at everything gave him that fairness which you 
 have observed. The rest of us have written as if we 
 were philosophers. Clarke always wrote, no matter on 
 how dull a subject, as a poet writes. And though he 
 has written very few verses, it is because he is a poet 
 that he has done what he has done." 
 
 I believe this remark of this careful observer and 
 thinker to be true, and I shall be sorry if the reader of 
 this volume does not think so, before we part. 
 
 After Dr. Hedge had said this to me, I found the fol- 
 lowing passage in Mr. Clarke's journal of October 16, 
 1832. It is an interesting early suggestion of the men- 
 tal habits to which Dr. Hedge alluded, fifty-seven years 
 after. 
 
 ..." I have been idle this term, and dissipated in 
 mind. I must shut myself into my room, and make my 
 duties the absorbing occupation of this year. I wish to 
 study the Bible this year thoroughly, and without any 
 commentaries. I wish to write a good deal, to get an 
 individual style, and to read little, and that principally 
 German. I think of studying the early history of our 
 country, and writing a drama, the object of which 
 shall be to do justice to the spirit of those times, by 
 exciting a respect for our ancestors, to cherish the 
 patriotic spirit which is now languishing. I will make 
 the heroes — the Puritans — look forward to our times,
 
 92 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 and paint their high hopes of what can be done for hu- 
 manity by a free, religious, enlightened nation. I have 
 always been prevented from expressing myself well in 
 poetry by the obstacle of the rhyme ; here I can over- 
 come this. If I write this, I can follow it by a drama 
 relating to the time of the Revolution or just before it, 
 where the feeling will refer backward in reverence, and 
 forward in yet prouder prophecy." 
 
 There is no evidence that he ever took any steps for- 
 ward in fulfilling this dream of a youth of twenty-two, 
 who, with the same ink which records his intention to 
 " read little," proposes to study the early history of the 
 country for his Puritan Drama. 
 
 From his journal. " All growing minds may be di- 
 vided into two classes, the grasshoppers and father-long- 
 legs. The first collect themselves together, and then 
 the whole body goes at once to a definite point, by a 
 spring. The others thrust out a leg, then another, then 
 a third, as far as they will go, and let the body come 
 after as it can, No. 1 are apt to be special pleaders, 
 one-sided arguers, but coherent and comprehensive. 
 No. 2 are fair and candid in debate, caring for truth 
 and not at all for consequences, but very prone to con- 
 tradict themselves at every other word. I believe that 
 I am a father-long-legs and M. a grasshopper." 
 
 Certainly this joking description of himself shows 
 that he had already found out the judicial quality or 
 determination of seeing all sides which distinguished 
 his after life. 
 
 At the end of the divinity course, in those days, the 
 young men of the Senior class began to write sermons, 
 and to preach them as they were asked. It is an inter- 
 esting thing to find that the text of his first sermon 
 was the text of his life : — 
 
 " Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it Avith thy 
 might." 
 
 The manuscript, afterward burned at the edges in an
 
 DE. CLARKE'S EARLY YEARS. 93 
 
 accidental fire, lies before me. It is indorsed, in ink 
 now brown, " Preached, Theological School ; first ser- 
 mon ; " — again, ''Preached at Air. "Whitman's, July 21, 
 1833 ; " — again, " Preached without notes, December 1, 
 1833." 
 
 After the formal introduction to the sermon, he states 
 the text as meaning, " What lies at hand; in other 
 words. Perform thy nearest duty.^^ Sur-h was the reso- 
 lution with which he went forth to battle. 
 
 At the end of the sermon is written this prayer : — 
 
 " Grant, Almighty Father, that as our days on 
 earth are multiplied, we may attain to a clearer sense 
 of the value of time, and a more faithful use of passing 
 opportunities. Save us from indolence, from indiffer- 
 ence to truth, from the moral death. May the religion 
 of our Master kindle in our hearts the flame of love and 
 piety. Wilt thou answer our prayers with the influ- 
 ence of thy Holy Spirit, so that, partaking more and 
 more of thy divine nature, we may resemble thee more 
 and more in the constancy of our deeds of active charity ; 
 and that, when we enter the dark valley of the shadow 
 of death, we may carry the remembrance of a life full of 
 worship and service. Grant, we beseech thee, that all 
 words of truth that we have heard this day may be 
 grafted in our understanding, and bring forth fruits of 
 good living and action, to the honor and praise of thy 
 name, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." 
 
 Such was the consecration which the young knight 
 asked for his resolution. 
 
 In the public exercises with which the course at the 
 Divinity School closed, his subject was, " Robert Hall." 
 The solidity of the treatment, and the directness of 
 the statement, immediately arrested the attention of 
 the best judges. Dr. James Walker, the Nestor of an- 
 other generation, when asked his opinion of the gradu- 
 ating class by an enthusiastic admirer of one of them, 
 instantly referred to these merits as they showed them- 
 selves in Clarke's paper.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 JOURNALS AND LETTERS. 
 
 1830-1840. 
 
 There were of course a thousand temptations to a 
 young man equipped as Mr. Clarke was to accept the 
 charge of some vacant parish in New England, and 
 carry on his work among those with whom he sympa- 
 thized. But that enthusiasm of young New England, 
 to which I have alluded, would not permit him to en- 
 ter on a career which seemed to offer so little oppor- 
 tunity for missionary work. He preferred to carry such 
 gospel as he had to a region where there were few 
 churches of the denomination to which he belonged. 
 In his Autobiography he has told us of the. motives 
 which influenced him in his decision to accept an invi- 
 tation to preach in Louisville, Kentucky, where some 
 persons, mostly of New England origin, had formed a 
 Unitarian church.^ This was in 1833. At that time 
 the signs of the coming of the slavery contest were but 
 few. Still every one in New England knew that Ken- 
 tucky was not New England, and the whole drift of 
 public opinion there was different from that on which 
 Mr. Clarke and his friends had been borne along. It 
 was not many years, for instance, since some gentlemen 
 of Lexington, Kentucky, had invited Horace ' Holley, 
 the eminent liberal preacher of Boston, to be the presi- 
 dent of the University of Transylvania. Dr. Holley 
 had gone there with all the prestige which any man 
 
 ^ Dr. Lyman Beecher went with his family to Cincinnati at the 
 same time, and here Mr. Clarke's acquaintance with them began.
 
 JOURNALS AND LETTERS. 95 
 
 could carry from the East to the West ; but the Pres- 
 byterian ministers of Kentucky, and those of the other 
 Evangelical churches, were quite too strong for any 
 such inroad. Dr. Holley and his friends were given to 
 understand that there was no need for any such men 
 as they were in that region. This was, I think, the 
 only attempt which had been made, before the estab- 
 lishment of the Louisville Unitarian church, toward the 
 transfusion of the New England religious idea into the 
 strictly orthodox flow of the religious life of Kentucky. 
 
 The journey to Kentucky, as will be seen by Mr. 
 Clarke's notes and letters, took more time than a jour- 
 ney to Alaska would take to-day, and it was much more 
 difficult. But he was young and strong ; he liked ad- 
 venture ; and all through the period of his life in Louis- 
 ville, which lasted seven 3'ears, he was ready, at the 
 shortest call, to undertake even difficult travel in the 
 interest of the cause to which he had devoted his life. 
 He soon found that no clergyman would exchange pul- 
 pits with him, excepting Ephraim Peabody, the Uni- 
 tarian preacher at Cincinnati, and afterward William 
 G. Eliot, who came to St. Louis in 1834. These three 
 young men were thus knit together by a tie of the 
 closest and tenderest character. Mr. Clarke also formed 
 that acquaintance with the family of Mr. Huidekoper, of 
 Meadville, Pennsylvania, which added so much to the 
 happiness of his after-life. 
 
 In that after-life he was very fond of referring to the 
 events, not to say the adventures, of his Louisville life, 
 which, to the decorous life of Boston in that time, were 
 nearly as strange as the adventures of John Smith or 
 of Columbus. In selecting from his notes passages 
 which will illustrate the happy years he spent at Louis- 
 ville, one is only puzzled by having too much material. 
 
 The chapter of his Autobiography which is, alas, the 
 last he ever wrote, contains his general review, made 
 fifty years after, of the memories which he had of
 
 96 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 travel. In other notes it appears that, on the first 
 journey, the route was by stage from Boston to Provi- 
 dence, steamboat to New York, stage and railway to 
 Philadelphia, stage to Baltimore, stage to Wheeling 
 over the mountains, thence by steamboat to Louisville.^ 
 During his seven years at Louisville he came back to 
 Boston nearly every year for a short visit. In these 
 journeys he took different routes. One was from Cin- 
 cinnati by stage to Cleveland ; thence the steamboat 
 took him to Buffalo, the stage to Albany, and thence 
 he could come through to Boston by stage, or by steam- 
 boat to Providence. The railroad lines between Boston 
 and New York were extending all through these seven 
 years. 
 
 The Guyandotte route, which is spoken of in the 
 Autobiography, was by boat to the mouth of the Guyan- 
 dotte, and then over the mountains to Sulphur Springs 
 in Virginia. The Pennsylvania route was over the 
 Alleghanies in Pennsylvania, passing Laurel Hill and 
 Bedford. 
 
 He arrived in Louisville, for the first time, August 
 4, 1833. He found there a small Unitarian society, 
 which had built a neat and well-proportioned church. 
 The society had been organized by a few earnest Unita- 
 rians, mostly from New England. Services had been 
 held for several years in different places, generally in 
 the schoolhouse of Mr. Francis E. Goddard, a man of 
 wide attainments and an able teacher. John Pierpont, 
 Bernard Whitman, and Charles Briggs were among the 
 preachers who, in short visits to Louisville, had inter- 
 ested the worshipers. The church had been dedicated 
 on the 27th of May, 1832. On that occasion Dr. Fran- 
 cis Parkman, and James Walker, afterwards president 
 of Harvard College, took part in the services. 
 
 Mr. Clarke's immediate predecessor in this church 
 
 ^ The railroad from Boston to Providence, and that from Boston 
 to Worcester, were not opened for travel until June, 18;^5.
 
 JOURNALS AND LETTERS. 97 
 
 •was the Rev, George Chapman, who had entered its 
 ministry in 1832. But at the end of a year he was 
 obliged to leave Louisville on account of failing health ; 
 and he died of pulmonary disease in 1834. I write 
 these lines with a renewal of that respect and regard 
 which I had, sixty years ago, for one of my first Sun- 
 day-school teachers. George Chapman, as a young 
 man, impressed me, a boy of seven, as perfectly in ear- 
 nest in what he said, and as leading a life wholly conse- 
 crated. 
 
 The congregation which Mr. Clarke found was not 
 large ; but, looking back upon it, we see it was remark- 
 able. It had been gathered, as has been said, by New 
 Englanders; but, beside a constituency of men and 
 women of what may be called the old Unitarian line of 
 New England, it embraced others from England, from 
 Scotland, from Kentucky, Virginia, Maryland, New 
 Jersey, Indiana, and other States of the Union. His 
 autobiography speaks of one and another of these. 
 
 Mr. Clarke's connection with the ''Western Mes- 
 senger " maintained and enlarged his acquaintance 
 with the leaders of the liberal religious movement 
 in America. He printed the papers of Channing, of 
 Emerson, of Hedge, and of many of those, less known 
 then, who have since filled important places in liter- 
 ature. Making every year a journey to Boston, he 
 kept his touch with New England, and he knew very 
 well what was the drift, and, indeed, what was the stag- 
 nation, of religious thought in New England. For the 
 kingdom of heaven was not coming in quite as fast as 
 the young enthusiasts of 1831 and 1832 had expected. 
 The Unitarian movement was not outgrowing its criti- 
 cal phase, nor emancipating itself from the social con- 
 ditions of its origin as fast as he and many of his 
 friends could have wished. From time to time, one 
 and another, for various reasons, urged him to come 
 back to Boston. I have not found among his papers
 
 98 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 any very definite statement by himself as to the rea- 
 sons which led him to return to the East ; but in the 
 letters of 1840 some of them are suggested. He had 
 never been installed as the minister of the Louisville 
 church ; he had simply accei)ted the invitation, renewed 
 every year, to be its minister for one year more ; and 
 he now determined not to accept that invitation for the 
 eighth time. This decision having been made, he 
 eventually left Louisville on the IGth day of June, 
 1840. 
 
 In some notes which were used as a brief of a conver- 
 sational lecture, he says, " Very green and raw when I 
 reached Louisville. 
 
 " Nothing to say, that is, that seemed worth saying. 
 
 " Knew no one ; very lonely ; so for three months." 
 
 Again, " Kentuckians, Judge Speed, Judge Nicholas, 
 Judge Eowan, George D. Prentice, Tom Marshall, 
 Humphrey Marshall, Judge and Mrs. John J. Mar- 
 shall, Garnett Duncan, Colonel Woolley, the Popes." 
 
 " Slavery, m lid. People said, ' All wrong, inexcusa- 
 ble ; Kentucky will emancipate.' Lectures, debates, 
 newspapers. 
 
 "When I came back to Boston, it was harder to 
 speak of slavery than it had been in Kentucky. I 
 learned my anti-slavery there ; a great change after- 
 ward in public sentiment in Kentucky. 
 
 "Dueling. Graves and Cilley, Tom Marshall and 
 John Rowan.^ 
 
 " Character of people : manly, intelligent, generous, 
 fresh ; natural refinement." 
 
 ^ "When I went to Kentucky, dueling was considered entirely 
 proper and necessary. I preached a sermon ag'ainst it, on the occasion 
 of a very extraordinary duel which had just taken place ; and the 
 father of one of the combatants, who had been a United States sena- 
 tor, was in church that day. He said that he could not understand 
 what had got into Mr. Clarke's head to preach against dueling ; he 
 might as well preach against courage." — Anti-Slavery Days, p. 27.
 
 JOURNALS AND LETTERS. 99 
 
 In another note he speaks of his work in the schools. 
 Elsewhere he speaks of the bloodthirsty people Avho 
 existed then, as even now, in certain wild sections of 
 the Mississippi Valley. 
 
 A list which he made of some of the distinguished 
 Kentuckians whom he then knew recalls many memo- 
 ries of interest in our history : — 
 
 " Judge Eowan, eminent lawyer, senator of the United 
 States. Highly courteous gentleman and scholar ; had 
 fought at least one duel. 
 
 *' Joseph Hamilton Daviess ; farmer's son ; how he 
 studied law. Wonderful speaker. His trip to Wash- 
 ington ; his resistance to Burr ; his death. 
 
 " George D. Prentice ; his attacks on Jackson. His 
 wife's party ; I refused wine ; he asked why." 
 
 To his memories of early life, written after half a cen- 
 tury had passed, I add a few extracts from his own let- 
 ters and those of his correspondents, and a very few 
 from his journals. 
 
 TO MARGARET FULLER. 
 
 Ohio River, July 31, 1833. 
 
 During the week ^ many things took place to move 
 me. There were a great many " last times " to feel, 
 last things to do, last words to speak. Our exhibition 
 was to me interesting, affecting. I loved my class- 
 mates. . . . You can see my part, for it is to be printed 
 in the next " Examiner," by the suggestion of H. 
 Hedge to Mr. Walker. Mr. Greenwood also treated me 
 with great kindness. On Sunday I preached at AVal- 
 tham, and in the evening was ordained. . . . 
 
 My thought after the ordination was, " God forgive 
 me for having called this a mere ceremony." It was 
 much more, — I was deeply moved. . . . 
 
 It was bitter to take leave of grandfather ; though 
 you may be sure there was no scene ; he simply shook 
 my hand in silence. . . . 
 
 ^ The week beforn leaving home for Louisville
 
 100 DIAEY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 I felt very vacant and unindividual till I got upon 
 the Newcastle Railroad, where, by steam, we travel 
 sixteen miles in an hour and ten minutes. Twilight 
 was deepening into darkness, hastened by a thunder- 
 storm, which came up in terrible might from the west, 
 while a full moon floated on the opposite blue sky. We 
 flew through the rain and lightning, four enormous 
 carriages, chained together, and crossed the Chesapeake 
 amid a continuation of the same storm. 
 
 TO MARGAKET FULLER. 
 
 Louisville, September 13, 1833. 
 
 I have just been attending the funeral of one of the 
 first settlers, — one General Breckenridge, aged seventy- 
 eight. He came here in 1780, having been in the Revo- 
 lutionary War. At that time the settlers were few, 
 and these few lived in a fort, for fear of Indians. 
 
 ... I was asked to perform the service, which was 
 in the city ; but he was buried on his own place, six 
 miles out of town, and they wished me to go out and 
 make a prayer at the grave. We passed along an 
 avenue winding through the forest for half a mile, 
 until we reached the house, — a one-story building, the 
 sitting-room decorated with a harpsichord and two old- 
 fashioned card-tables. The family burial-place was at 
 a little distance beyond the house. After the service, 
 one of my friends offered me his saddle-horse to re- 
 turn, and I had a beautiful ride through the forest. 
 The forests of Kentucky are said to surpass those of 
 any part of Europe. This was chiefly composed of syca- 
 mores of tremendous size, and lofty, tapering beeches 
 with thick clumps at the top. The trunks of the syca- 
 mores are often six and eight feet in diameter. The 
 oak is common also. . . . 
 
 Louisville is perfectly flat, and there are few pleasant 
 walks, it is so dusty and muddy. There are many cus- 
 toms odd to a Yankee. For example, nothing is more
 
 JOURNALS AND LETTERS. 101 
 
 common than for builders of houses to collect their 
 , shavings in the middle of the street, and set fire to 
 them. Every evening, in walking about, one sees half 
 a dozen of these fires. There has been a duel in agita- 
 tion, and an assassination attempted among some fire- 
 eaters here. The progress of the affair was known to 
 the whole city. It was the common talk that Mr. 
 Prentice had offered Mr. Trotter to fight with rifles at 
 forty -five paces, or with pistols at six, or with swords 
 or dirks. And then it was said that Mr. Trotter had 
 demanded, on account of his near-sightedness, to fight 
 with pistols at each other's breast ; and then the nego- 
 tiation broke off. Presently we heard that Mr. Trotter 
 had shot Mr. P. in the back, in the street, etc. They 
 are rather a bloody set of fellows, and they call their 
 cruelty chivalry. The system of slavery colors every- 
 thing. 
 
 TO W. H. CHANNIXG. 
 
 Louisville, October 4, 1833. 
 
 When I arrived here I was at first disheartened by 
 the small number who attend the church, and by the 
 feeling, which for a long time ^ I was unable to con- 
 quer, that my efforts were wholly ineffectual, and not 
 likely ever to become less so. Yet, even then, I did 
 not think of yielding till a full experiment had been 
 tried. ... If I have not faith enough in the truths to 
 which I have solemnly devoted myself to persevere 
 through a few difficulties, I will give up my post to 
 some better man. 
 
 The number of my hearers has increased a little. I 
 have written a dozen sermons since I have been here ; 
 and with this, a weekly lecture, Sunday-school, temper- 
 ance societies, attending funerals, parish visiting, get- 
 ting acquainted with the place and people, my mind 
 and time have been pretty well occupied. 
 
 ^ He had arrived in Louisville early in August. Evidently he 
 measured time by his feelings, and not by tlie almanac-
 
 102 DIABV AND COliliESl'OyDEyCE. 
 
 I have become better acquainted with St. Paul's char- 
 acter, and admire him more than ever. AVhen I was a 
 child I disliked him, and kept to the Gospels. . , . We 
 admire in the Evangelists the love which has attached 
 itself to great things without knowing they are great ; 
 in St. Paul we sympathize with the intellectual percep- 
 tion which enables him rightly to appreciate things 
 high and low, and to understand the spirit and letter 
 of the gospel, — to grasp it in its essentials and in its 
 details. One of these years I intend to write a life of 
 St. Paul. 
 
 I wish to hear regularly concerning both j'our inner 
 and your outward man, and also concerning C. Bobbins 
 and our other classmates. Give them my love, and tell 
 them that, notwithstanding the thousand miles between 
 us, they are nearer to me than when we lived under the 
 same roof. May I trust you for an account of their 
 " weaving and working " ? 
 
 TO W. H. CHAXNING. 
 Lexington, Kentucky, November 8, 1833. 
 
 I have penetrated thus far into the interior, and have 
 had, on the whole, many reasons for being pleased with 
 what I have experienced and observed. In the first 
 place I must thank Heaven for "the freedom of the 
 mind which has been more than wealth to me," which 
 makes it my habit, wherever I go, to look first for the 
 good, and take it in as I best may, instead of shutting 
 up my sense and putting on it the padlock of personal 
 taste and rigid opinion. Is there danger of my being 
 moulded by each new compression of circumstances ? 
 There is danger, I grant, of sometimes being drifted 
 from my opinions ; but the truths, which lie five fathom 
 deep in my heart, I hope never to lose. 
 
 I have received attention and hospitable welcome 
 from the Episcopalians of this city. Bishop Smith, 
 President Peers, etc. I presented myself among them
 
 JOURNALS AND LETTERS. 103 
 
 with openness and frankness, and I have no cause to 
 complain of my reception. 
 
 Secondly. I am pleased with the spirit manifested at 
 this education convention, called from all parts of the 
 State for the purpose of petitioning the legislature to 
 act in behalf of popular education. ... We are going 
 to do something to rouse the people of the State to the 
 business. There is to be a more general convention at 
 Frankfort, and a State education society formed. 
 
 Thirdly. The opinions I have everywhere heard ex- 
 pressed on the subject of slavery are encouraging. The 
 general, boldly expressed sentiment is, that slavery is 
 a curse in every point of view to Kentucky, that there 
 is no excuse for its existing a nioraent in this State. 
 In the stage with me were two Kentuckians. We met 
 four negroes chained, preceding a moving family. It 
 was the first time I had seen such a sight. I expressed 
 my disgust. So did these gentlemen, both slavehold- 
 ers. One said that slave - dealers were held in such 
 abhorrence that by no effort could the power of their 
 wealth ever bring them into respectable society, even 
 after retiring from business. 
 
 Fourthly. The prescriptive manners of the clerical 
 body are abolished in the West, and they are influential 
 only in proportion to actual ability. ... A free con- 
 versational elocution, and an easy rhetoric, crowded 
 with figures and illustrations, and avoiding all cant 
 phrases and solemn phraseology, is the characteristic of 
 every popular preacher. And I have listened since I 
 have been out here to such preaching as in every way 
 surpasses Eastern oratory. . . . 
 
 Every day I become more interested in the character 
 of this great Western people. Its simplicity charms 
 me, its openness commands my sympathy, its free, un- 
 fettered activity calls for my admiration.
 
 104 DIARY AND COHUESPONDENCE. 
 
 TO W. G. ELIOT. 
 
 December 4, 1833. 
 ... I think your principle of faith is nobly dis- 
 played in Fichte, if by faith you understand, as I do, a 
 realizing sense of spiritual things, the sense by which 
 truths are seen as real and substantial tliinys, no less 
 real than the material objects around us, yes, more so, 
 because eternal. Faith is, in my opinion, not the belief 
 of propositions or dogmas of any kind, but a sense of 
 truth, which may be stronger or weaker. All faith is 
 essentially faith in God, inasmuch as God is the source 
 of all truths, the centre of the spiritual world. . . . 
 You ask me about the West, and a suitable preparation 
 for coming to it. Everything which liberalizes your 
 mind, which enables you to despise the form in com- 
 parison with the essence, the letter in comparison Avith 
 the spirit, everything which increases your faith and 
 submission to the will of God, and patient determina- 
 tion to work for his glory, is a preparation for the 
 West. Everything here is free, open, active. To be 
 useful one must lay aside all narrow tastes and exclu- 
 sive feelings, and from a pure love to humanity plunge 
 into the life around him. With such a spirit as this I 
 think the West a noble field, it is so stirring, so grow- 
 ing. You feel your life, you feel full of energy, your 
 soul grows and expands with every pulse throb. . . . 
 Oh, how I wish you would decide to come out here. 
 You could be ten times as useful, ten times as happy 
 out here. I think the soul grows as fast as the trees 
 do. You must come, however, determined to regard 
 only what is real, not what is apparent, to trace good- 
 ness and evil to their roots, and never be repelled by 
 the surface. 
 
 FROM HIS JOURNAL. 
 
 1834. September. I propose during the present year 
 to collect materials for the following books, and to pre-
 
 JOURNALS AND LETTERS. 105 
 
 pare some of them for the press. The matter is all to 
 be gathered from actual life and experieuce, 
 
 1. Prayers and Helps to Devotion. 
 
 2. Aids to Understanding and Applying Scripture. 
 
 3. The Clerical Profession at the Present Day, and 
 Religion among the Educated. 
 
 4. Poems. Journal. With Illustrations, 
 
 5. The Power of Faith, a National and Religious 
 Epic. Pilgrim Fathers. 
 
 6. The Power of Conscience : Another. 
 
 1834. October 12. Preached in morning on Duel- 
 ing. Afternoon on Prayer. Lesson to Sunday-school. 
 
 November 1. I feel that as I object to the revival 
 method of driving persons into religion, 1 ought to be 
 always practising the other method of gentle and steady 
 persuasion. May God give me strength so to do that I 
 may not be unfruitful. ... I think we should be either 
 at work or at prayer all the time. 
 
 TO MAKGARET FULLER. 
 
 October 22, 1834. 
 
 I have lately been a good deal interested in the Poles 
 who are journeying to their lands in Illinois. One, in par- 
 ticular, I have become acquainted with ; a young man of 
 education and fine feelings ; the son of a general officer, 
 who was cruelly treated by the Russians, and sent into Si- 
 beria. His name is Casimir Mickiewicz, from Lithuania. 
 
 Mickiewicz was in several battles; he plays beauti- 
 fully on the piano-forte. He had letters to Cincinnati 
 from General La Fayette. He might support himself 
 by teaching music, but prefers to go with his country- 
 men to their lands. -^ 
 
 1 A good many Poles came to Louisville in 1834, and Mr. Clarke, 
 with others, made zealous efforts to find employment for them This 
 was a difficult task, because most of the Polish refugees were from 
 aristocratic families, had learned no trade, and considered most forms 
 of labor beneath them, — they could fight, but they could not work.
 
 lOG DIARY AyjJ CORUESPONDENCE. 
 
 1 aui staying mineralogy, at present, with Mrs. Wind- 
 ship, who is altogether a superior person. I expect to 
 become a little acquainted with the materials on which 
 I have been moving about all my days without trou- 
 bling myself before to examine them. I think that 
 mineralogy and geology are in great want of a Cuvier 
 or Goethe to bring them into systematic shape ; put- 
 ting them, I mean, into a system which shall be no 
 arbitrary collocation, but shall contain the law of its 
 organization within itself, so that every part shall co- 
 here and be dependent on every other part, and all 
 make a whole. 
 
 After a good deal of effort all were provided for except three ; and 
 for these also, after a time, Mr. Clarke succeeded in obtaining em- 
 ployment in a paper factory belonging to a friend of his, — and a 
 lodging was provided for the three Poles in the factory building. 
 
 A few days after this arrangement had been made, Mr. Clarke- met 
 these gentlemen in the street. He stopped, and inquired how they 
 were getting on. 
 
 " Oh, we have left that place ! " said they. " We were obliged to 
 
 leave it. We could not possibly stay there. Mr. treated us 
 
 very badly ; he insulted us ; it was out of the question to remain any 
 longer. ' ' 
 
 ' ' Indeed ! I have always had a high opinion of Mr. . How did 
 
 he ill-treat you ? " 
 
 "Oh, he insulted us ; he required us to perform menial offices; he 
 expected us to build our own fires." 
 
 " Why, I build my own fire every day," said Mr. Clarke. But the 
 wrath of the offended Poles was not to be reasoned away. 
 
 " How do you expect to earn your living ? " asked Mr. Clarke. 
 
 " We intend to give a concert," said they. " Will you take some 
 tickets ? " 
 
 Of another of the Poles, Mr. Clarke writes in his diary : — 
 
 " Brosowski, a Pole, came to see me. Speaks Latin, French, Span- 
 ish, German, as fast as possible ; plays on piano-forte, guitar, etc. ; 
 paints and draws, and cannot earn his bread ! He says, ' Non habeo 
 laborum, piget mendicare.' I gave him an old coat, which he took 
 with delight, because he would now look like a ' homo doctus." 
 Also a letter and some money, and he went off fully satisfied."
 
 JOURNALS ANV LETTERti. 107 
 
 FKOM HIS JOURNAL. 
 
 1834. November 17. Went about with Pole. Put 
 him at shop of ]V[r. Smith. 
 
 November 18. Searching employment for Poles. 
 
 November 19. Went to Tyler's with Poles. 
 
 November 24. Went to see Blumenthal about Schil- 
 ler's letters. Pole at Mr. Smith's a word of advice. 
 Phelps, dying man ; prayer and religious conversation. 
 With Mr. Low, to find a guitar for Mickiewicz. 
 
 TO MARGARET FULLER. 
 
 November, 1834. 
 
 My Poles do not behave themselves very well ; they 
 trouble me somewhat by their foolish and childish no- 
 tions, for which I suppose they are not much to blame, 
 but which make them hard to deal with. . . . George 
 Keats is one of the best men in the world. And I 
 have taken a strong liking to the character of his brother 
 John, which has just dawned on me through the medium 
 of his letters and accounts of his personal history. . . . 
 
 I have learned how to tell stories with ease, and to 
 make them intelligible and interesting to children ; and, 
 what is not difficult to one in earnest, to extract a 
 moral, or, rather, to convey a moral influence, by any 
 story in the world. My Sunday-school, therefore, is in- 
 teresting to me. 
 
 TO W. H. CHANNING. 
 
 January 15, 1835. 
 ... I am hopeful, and consider the great beauty of 
 truth till I think it must prevail. I look away from 
 thewickedness, the woeful entanglement, the deep pollu- 
 tion, the great perversions, the gross worldliness of man, 
 and think of his infinite origin, his immortal home, his 
 likeness to God, and the accomplishments of the few 
 noble. Now this is one-sided, I grant you, but real evil
 
 108 DIAEY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 makes itself evident all too soon ; let us, therefore, put 
 on the whole armor of faith, that we may be able to 
 stand in that evil day. Whether I shall ever do any- 
 thing great, I know not, but I will do little things 
 from great motives. " She hath done what she could " 
 is the highest praise created beings can receive. 
 
 TO O. T. D. 
 
 February 20, 1835. 
 I send you the prospectus of a magazine which we 
 are about getting under way, and which we mean to 
 make the leading Western periodical. We intend to 
 combine literature and other matters with religion, and 
 make it generally attractive. . . . We shall try to get 
 the aid of leading and known men through the land. 
 Whoever helps us helps not ns, but the cause of freedom 
 and truth. We gain nothing but an addition to the 
 weight of labor and abuse which is already upon our 
 shoulders. We intend that it shall be Westeim in its 
 character, and as free from merely conventional restric- 
 tions in spirit as may be. 
 
 TO MARGARET FULLER. 
 
 March 10, 1835. 
 
 . . . You ask how many hours a day I study ? Per- 
 haps three or four. What ? I study Greek ; I am de- 
 termined to understand that language passably. I study 
 the Bible ; German theology a little ; Goethe not at all ; 
 St. Paul, much. I study how to talk so as to impress 
 the minds of children and of men. I study Jacob 
 Abbott's books a good deal. . . . 
 
 TO MARGARET FULLER. 
 
 Sunday, April 12, 1835. 
 To-day I have been preaching two sermons, and have 
 given a Sunday-school lesson. Our school numbers 
 sixty pupils now. To-morrow I have a Bible-class ;
 
 JOURNALS AND LETTERS. 109 
 
 Wednesday, a lecture to write and deliver before a 
 phrenological society ; Thursday, a lecture in my church 
 at five p. M. ; Friday (Good Friday), another at the same 
 hour ; Saturday, to write a sermon or two for Easter, 
 and a story for my Sunday-school' children. Beside 
 this I must make calls, and go over to Jeffersonville, 
 and perhaps preach Tuesday night. The worst is that 
 all this toil seems to do no good. Mafiitt made a hun- 
 dred converts here two years ago, of whom five only 
 were in the church six months after. However, matters 
 improve decidedly. Five or ten years hence it will be 
 a good place, and then happy will he be who has grown 
 up with it. . . . 
 
 TO MARGARET FULLER. 
 
 Lexington, Ky., June 14, 1835. 
 
 I have come to this city, first, to see Miss Martineau ; 
 second, to get some subscribers to the " Western Mes- 
 senger ; " third, to preach, and to get acquainted with 
 the people here. . . . 
 
 I saw Miss Martineau, and had a capital time with 
 her. I talked with her about four hours. Dined with 
 her, with only Mr. and Mrs. Irwin (Clay's daughter 
 and son-in-law) and Miss Jeffrey. She began immedi- 
 ately to talk about Mr. and Mrs. Furness with great 
 enthusiasm. It seems that she was with them while 
 in Philadelphia, and Fanny Kemble came to see them 
 every day. Mr. Furness is a great admirer of Carlyle, 
 and he converted Miss M., and she admires Carlyle just 
 as enthusiastially as he. She says it is a great mistake 
 to suppose her a mere utilitarian ; she is preparing the 
 people for Carlyleism, for they must be fed and clothed 
 before they can be spiritualized. 
 
 FROM HIS JOURNAL. 
 
 1835. December 10. Left Louisville at 5 p. m. for 
 New Orleans [and Mobile]. A sinking of spirit on my
 
 110 DIARY AND COERESrONDENCE. 
 
 departure showed that I was leaning on outward things. 
 But I commended myself to God, knowing my purpose 
 was pure and would be accepted by Him. On His arm 
 I lean wholly, committing myself and my ways to Him, 
 and believing He will direct my path aright, to His 
 glory and to the good of souls. 
 
 TO MARGARET FULLER. 
 
 Steamboat Leonidas, December 14, 1835. 
 
 I am on my way to Mobile ; what to do there God 
 will determine. . . . 
 
 We came out of the mouth of the Ohio River at mid- 
 night ; I rose and went out on the guard, and looked 
 abroad upon the meeting of the waters. We were al- 
 ready on the " Grandfather of all Eivers," as the Per- 
 sians would call it ; and the '' Father of Waters," as it 
 is called by the Indians, those " Western Orientalists." 
 
 I preached a sermon yesterday, exhorting my fellow- 
 passengers to consider and confess themselves strangers 
 and pilgrims on the earth, as well as on the Mississippi 
 River. That was sound doctrine, but did not quite 
 convince my own mind. When traveling on the river, 
 I am quite willing to put up with bad company and ac- 
 commodations for a time, but I do not succumb so quietly 
 to a like necessity in that other journey. "It will 
 soon be over " does not strike me as an argument for 
 patience, equally conclusive in the two cases. I remem- 
 ber that I was ever disgusted by that religious view of 
 life which describes it as something very disagreeable, 
 which cannot be enjoyed, but must be just endured for 
 a little. Unkind I hold it to our fellow-pilgrims, to 
 look them in the face with this saintly expression of 
 disgust ; ungrateful to God, who has put us into an ad- 
 mirably furnished school, to say the least, fitted up with 
 such cabinets, book-shelves, and varied apparatus, that 
 we ought to feel pleasantly about it while we stay. 
 Yea ! even disobedient is it, and the part of a wicked
 
 JOURNALS AND LETTERS. Ill 
 
 and slothful servant, to bury his talent in the earth, be- 
 cause but one is given him, and hide his Lord's money. 
 Oh, grumbling religious, or grumbling irreligious, man, 
 grumble no longer, but fight now the good fight of 
 faith ; lay hold now, with both hands, of eternal life, 
 and in the midst of the Finite discover an Infinite ; be- 
 gin Eternity, while yet shrouded in the mists of Time. 
 
 TO H. T. D. 
 
 Mississippi River, below Memphis, 
 
 Steamer Leonidas, Decernber, 1833. 
 
 It was no slight pain to me to hear of the departure of 
 my grandfather. He was the best friend I ever had, or 
 can hope to have. His love for me was wonderful, . . . 
 
 Last night I was much shocked by the cold-blooded 
 and unfeeling way in which a Natchez man described 
 his exploits in flogging negroes. He told, with a truly 
 fiendish glee, how he flogged a man nearly to death a 
 day or two before on suspicion of stealing. But my 
 head is full of stories about hangings and murders. 
 
 TO EDITOR OF "WESTERN MESSENGER." 
 
 New Orleans, December 22, 1835. 
 
 ... I arrived on Friday, and preached on Sunday to 
 a large audience in Brother Clapp's church. . . . 
 
 I preached Sunday before last on the steamboat to a 
 most attentive audience, composed of the passengers 
 and crew. I had a good deal of religious conversation 
 with the " publicans and sinners," the blasphemers and 
 gamblers, and found them serious and willing to be 
 rebuked. I find a soul of goodness in things evil 
 wherever I go, and my heart leaps with joy at each 
 new discovery of something pure, some love of truth in 
 the roughest shell, the most thorny husk of humanity. 
 Confidence in men unlocks their hearts. Not by look- 
 ing on them as totally depraved, but by believing there 
 is something good in them, and speaking to them as if 
 yon thought so; f/iis breaks down their opposition.
 
 112 JJIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 FROM HIS JOURNAL. 
 
 1836. Mobile. Tell my object in coming. Not to 
 preach to the religious community, or to those under 
 their influence. But a large class not under their in- 
 fluence cannot be reconciled with it, yet want a religion, 
 have none, feel the need of it. These I want to ad- 
 dress, take them on their own ground ; they are prac- 
 tical deists and atheists, I suppose. I want to make 
 them Christians ; not nominal, but real. I hope to do 
 this, because I have different instruments to do it with, 
 and have seen their influence. 
 
 I appeal to your understanding. I hope to give you 
 a reason for everything I ask you to do. I shall not 
 dogmatize. I respect the rights of your conscience. I 
 tell you at the outset what I want to do. I wish to 
 produce repentance toward God and faith in our Lord 
 Jesus Christ. If I can induce any one to repent and 
 believe, I have done what I came for. If not, why, it 
 is either my fault, or your fault, or God's time has not 
 come. 
 
 TO H. T. D. 
 
 " Irish Jemmy's Bab," 
 12 miles below Rock Cave, Ohio River, 
 
 February 10, 18.36. 
 
 I reckon you never have received a letter from Lnsh 
 Jemmy^s Bar before, and I sincerely hope you never 
 will again from any friend in like circumstance with 
 myself. We are frozen up hard and fast, have been 
 lying here and hereabout a week, and cannot say when 
 we shall get away. We cannot get at stages ; we can- 
 not hire horses ; the roads are in no condition for walk- 
 ing, or, rather, roads there are none. We have no 
 books nor newspapers, and for those who, like myself, 
 neither gamble, drink, chew, nor smoke, there remains 
 but one resource, writing letters. 
 
 I write in complete ignorance of everything which
 
 JOUENALS AND LETTERS. 113 
 
 has happened in Yankee-land or Louisville, since Janu- 
 ary 1, 1836. I had a letter of that date from mother, 
 since when I have heard no word from friendly lip or 
 pen. I have been seeing, feeling, thinking, and acting, 
 however, — most of the first and last. I have seen the 
 Gulf of Mexico, the magnolia tree, the live-oak, Gen- 
 eral Gaines, and some half-dozen pleasant men and 
 women of ISTew Orleans, a cotton press, portions of 
 Illinois, Missouri, Arkansas, Tennessee, Mississippi, 
 Louisiana, and Alabama, an immense host of blacklegs 
 and rowdies, and the Mississippi River. I have formed 
 a society at Mobile, and have persuaded the members to 
 subscribe a number of thousands of dollars to build a 
 church; have made some good friends and acquaint- 
 ances, and have induced some of them to think better 
 of Christianity than before. I have also, in leisure 
 moments, written a review of Butler's " Kentucky," one 
 or two sermons, half-a-dozen letters, a hundred lines of 
 verse. 
 
 Then, thirdly, for feeling. I have felt disgusted and 
 sorrowful at the perpetual stream of cursing and blas- 
 phemy which has saluted my ears ever since I have 
 been on the river ; have felt a loathing of the cruelties 
 and horrible tyranny of some of the Southern overseers ; 
 have grieved at the reckless spirit defying everything 
 we have been taught to love and revere as sacred. . . . 
 
 But I have had joyous feelings also. I was touched 
 with the generosity of the Mobile people to myself, and 
 the enthusiasm with which they entered into church 
 matters. . . . There were half-a-dozen men in Mobile 
 who piit aside all regard to the plausible and expedient, 
 and asked only what was true and right. One of these 
 was a young man, born in Kentucky. This youth was 
 all fire and enthusiasm about organizing a society, sub- 
 scribed $500, and when I left told me my coming to 
 Mobile had been the happiest event in his life. Then 
 there was an older man, a Virginian, formerly a me-
 
 114 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 chanic, very intelligent ; a man who said not much, but 
 looked immensities, and acted with a steady unflinching 
 energy Avhich carried all before it. Then there was a 
 Boston man, about twenty -five years old, lately married 
 to a Georgian. He was much respected in the place, 
 and devoted himself to the cause with untiring activity. 
 There was another young man, from New York, whose 
 wife and sister had been members of Mr. W. "Ware's so- 
 ciety. Another, a man overrun with business, told me 
 at first that he could not take much interest in the 
 movement, but put down a subscription of $500, and 
 afterwards came and put down $500 more. 
 
 FKOM DR. WILLIAM ELLERY CHAXNING TO J. F. C. 
 Newport, R. I., February 19, 1836. 
 My dear Sir, — I received your letter in the begin- 
 ning of the summer urging me to write for your period- 
 ical. . . . Your appreciation was so earnest, and my 
 sympathy with you, and your brethren in the West, so 
 great, that I could not but do something. ... I often 
 think of the West and its wants. I cannot conceive a 
 nobler field for Christian efforts. My heart is with you 
 in your work, and had I power, I would send you a host 
 of fellow-laborers. It is a bad sign that our body of 
 Christians take no greater interest in spreading truth 
 and righteousness. I live in hope of seeing a new life 
 in our ministers and churches ; in hope of partaking 
 more of it myself. With enlightened and fervent min- 
 isters, we might cover the country with churches de- 
 voted, not to the propagation of a fixed system and of 
 the low Christianity now in fashion, but to moral and 
 religious progress. I look to the young for something 
 better than has been done, and it cheers me to find, in 
 some who are starting, a holy zeal and philanthropy, 
 which cannot be without effect. You and your breth- 
 ren in the West may act on the young here by hearti- 
 ness in the cause, your spirit of self-sacrifice, your
 
 JOUliNALS AND LETTERS. 115 
 
 bolder tone, your firmer faith. What is wanted here is 
 moral confidence in the power of truth and Christianity ; 
 tlience preaching has a weakness, wants authority and 
 life. May you do better. Your sincere friend, 
 
 William E. Channing. 
 
 to margaret fuller. 
 
 Louisville, March 28, 18;36. 
 
 I have been to Cincinnati to have the " Messenger " 
 removed to Louisville. In a week or so we shall get 
 out a number. I have also written and sent off a long 
 article on " Kentucky History " for the " North Amer- 
 ican Review." 
 
 I sometimes think that could I go to Boston, and 
 preach in some free church, or start a new society, on 
 rather different principles, speaking more to conscience 
 than to intellect, more to intuitive reason than to 
 speculative understanding, making morality and reli- 
 gion one, not two separate matters, I might find a num- 
 ber who would hear me gladly. But better would it be 
 for me to stay here, could I have a few friends who 
 would give me understanding sympathy. 
 
 When I was in Mobile, I saw a leathern bag hanging 
 in a certain place, marked thus : " Letter-bag ; Ship 
 Sarah sails to-morrow for Liverpool." I went home in- 
 stantly, and wrote a letter to Thomas Carlyle, returned, 
 and dropped it in the bag, and am now waiting the 
 result. Do you think Teufelsdrockh will take any notice 
 of it, or will he mistake me for a gigman ? ^ 
 
 1 " But to look across the ' divine salt sea.' A letter reached me 
 some two months ago, from Mobile, Alabama; the writer, a kind 
 friend of mine, signs himself James Freeman Clarke. I have mislaid, 
 not lost, his letter, and do not at present know his permanent address, 
 for he seemed to be only on a visit to Mobile ; but you, doubtless, do 
 know it. Will you therefore take, or even find, an opportunity to tell 
 this good friend that it is not the wreckage of the Liverpool ship he 
 wrote by, nor insensibility on my part, that prevents his hearing direct 
 from me ; that I see and love him in this letter, and hope we shall
 
 116 DIARY AND VOBBESFONDENCE. 
 
 TO W. H. OHANNING. 
 
 Cincinnati, January 21, 1837. 
 
 I ought to have written to you long ago, as two 
 months have passed since I reached home. The first 
 month I had everything to do, and no time to write ; 
 the last month I have had nothing to do, and less time, 
 if possible, than before. For you know that when we 
 have once strenuously set about doing nothing, we go 
 very thoroughly about it, and will not even pick up a 
 pin, if we can well help it. 
 
 I have been in Cincinnati a month, detained from 
 week to week by the ice. I came up to spend a single 
 week, but have not been able to get back. The river 
 has been full of floating ice. One would think this 
 just the time to write letters, sermons, etc. ; but 
 no ; when once out of the traces of dail}^ duties I felt 
 relieved from all responsibility, and have consequently 
 been gloriously idle for a month back. 
 
 Since I returned from the East I have been much im- 
 pressed with the value of method and importance of 
 system, and have gone seriously to work to reform my 
 bad habits in that regard, and had made some progress 
 before this visit to Cincinnati threw me back again. I 
 had a book-case made by a carpenter, Avith pigeon-holes 
 in it, and have taken my books, which before lay about 
 the tables, bureau, and mantelpiece, and set them up in 
 a formal manner. I have also caught my letters, which 
 were flying about in the most desultory manner, and 
 filed and labeled them in little packets. I have served 
 in the same way my accounts and bills, and I can now 
 look, with a decent triumph and modest complacency, at 
 my well-ordered household. I feel more like a respon- 
 sible man than before this arrangement. The books, 
 
 meet one day under the sun ; shall live under it, at any rate, with 
 many a kind thought towards one another." — T. Carlyle to R. W. 
 Emerson, April 29, 1836.
 
 JOURNALS AND LETTERS. 117 
 
 thus arranged, indicate that their proprietor is, or ought 
 to be, a man of action and influence in society. '*' Why 
 all this apparatus, unless you do something ? " is their 
 tacit exhortation. . . . 
 
 I have these two objects when I enter my pulpit. 
 First, if possible, to convey some clear idea and definite 
 instruction to the minds of those who hear. Second, to 
 leave an impression of a religious kind upon their 
 hearts, to arouse awe and reverence, and the sleeping 
 conscience, and the dulled affections, and to create the 
 feeling that we are God's children, though sinners, and 
 though poor and needy, heirs of an everlasting inherit- 
 ance. 
 
 TO W. H. CHANNING. 
 
 Louisville, March 29, 1837. 
 I want to know whether you are going to accept the 
 call which the Cincinnati society, as I understand, have 
 made you ? For if not, then I want to know whether 
 you will come here and stay with me a few months at 
 least, and get under way the ministry at large. You 
 will And no one to interfere with you here, and by 
 God's help, it may be done, and well done. I am al- 
 most discouraged about it, I have found it so difficult to 
 get any one to undertake it. The people here would 
 support it, I know, if it was once fairly started. There 
 is a fine old man here, who has always passed for an in- 
 fidel, — though he has more Christianity in him than 
 nine tenths of the so-called professors of Christianity, — 
 who says he will help us heart and hand in this thing. 
 He says it would be something like Jesus Christ's 
 Christianity, and he will go in for that any time. 
 
 TO W. H. CHANNING. 
 
 LorisviLLE, May 25, 1837. 
 Only think how much we could do if we were together. 
 My heart burns within me as I ponder it. Under no 
 circumstances would you come out here ? Would you
 
 118 DIAMY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 come and be the minister to the society, and I be the 
 minister at large ? or would you be minister at large 
 here for one year ? If so, I would engage to get enough 
 subscribed to support you. To have you here, we liv- 
 ing one year together in our own hired house, what an 
 effort would I not make ; could anything prevent our 
 succeeding? How we would edit .the ''Messenger," 
 and how we would preach consolation to the broken- 
 hearted ! Oh heavens ! shall this not be ? 
 
 At any rate, pray give me your views on the matter. 
 I have a Sunday-school here of seventy or eighty chil- 
 dren, a fine nucleus to begin with, — and some five or 
 six true Christians who would desire no better boon 
 than to help in getting up such a City Mission here. 
 
 WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING TO J. F. C. 
 
 Boston, April 22, 1837. 
 
 My dear Sir, — I send you a discourse, or address, 
 which I have lately pronounced on temperance. My 
 object was, not so much to stir up those already inter- 
 ested in the cause, as to interest others by showing its 
 wide bearings and its connection with all efforts for car- 
 rying forward the community. 
 
 I remember your visit to me with pleasure. Your 
 position seems to me, as I have told you, very impor- 
 tant. One of your great aims must be to produce a 
 mutual action of the East and the West. We, here, 
 are to be benefited by acting on the West, as well as the 
 West on us. Our contact with a newer people must 
 wake us up. Every minister who visits you will come 
 back with a fresher spirit, and will spread life around 
 him. The unhappiness is, that all parts of our country 
 are to be planed down to one surface by the infinite, 
 all-pervading intensity of the passion for accumulation. 
 The West will become as mercenary as the East. What 
 a blessing would our present commercial agony be, 
 would it only free us from the accursed thirst for un-
 
 JOUliNALS AND LETTERS. 119 
 
 bounded gain. What is the strength of slavery ? The 
 love of money. This makes the free States the uphold- 
 ers of oppression. Must not some tremendous social 
 revolutions give the race a new start ? Can we go on 
 further under the present impulses of the social sys- 
 tem ? My spirit has groaned so much during what has 
 been called our prosperity that I am not as much 
 troubled as most by our present adversity. By all this 
 I mean to utter no despondence. Our present low, self- 
 ish, mercenary activity is better than stagnation of 
 mind. Our present stage of society is one which must 
 be passed through. A true civilization lies beyond it. 
 When I began I intended to write but two or three 
 lines, but the West and Society are topics which open 
 the fountain of thought, and it is not easy to stop. 
 
 A blessing on your labors. Very sincerely your 
 friend, William E. Channing. 
 
 TO MR. AND MRS. G. T. D. 
 
 Louisville, July 20, 1837. 
 The greatest of all mysteries is the way in which 
 men live in the midst of mysteries ; buying, selling, 
 eating, drinking, without having their heads and hearts 
 crushed by the weight of wonders which is on them. 
 To think that we, who have a little while ago begun to 
 live, and in a little while hence are to die, should 
 take it so coolly, and should look on these two marvel- 
 ous events (of which, to be sure, the first is infinitely 
 the most marvelous) as we look upon waking in the 
 morning, and falling asleep at night ! Truly, says Solo- 
 mon, " God has put the world in men's hearts so that 
 no one finds out the work which he maketh from the 
 beginning until the end." It is this stupidity, kindly 
 sent to us, which keeps us from running mad with the 
 strangeness of our existence. ... Is it not likely that 
 our change from this life to the next will be equally 
 gradual, and perhaps as unconscious ? We shall find
 
 120 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 ourselves familiar and at home in another state, before 
 we are conscious of having entered it. 
 
 TO G. T. D. 
 
 Newton, September 1, 1837. 
 I arrived here two days since, just in time for Com- 
 mencement, after a long and tiresome journey by the 
 way of Cincinnati, Columbus, Zanesville, Wheeling, 
 Pittsburgh, Meadville, Erie, Buffalo, Niagara, Koches- 
 ter, Utica, Albany, New York, and Providence. . . , 
 Yesterday we had a noble discourse by Mr. Emerson on 
 the American Scholar . . . Henry Hedge said they had 
 not had so sweet a song svmg to them for many a year. 
 . . . Have you seen Dr. Channing's letter to H. Clay ? 
 I think it capital. 
 
 TO G. T. D. 
 
 January 24, 1838. 
 It happened that last night we discussed Burr's char- 
 acter at a conversational club, which we have here. It is 
 a very interesting club, for all opinions are usually repre- 
 sented. We have old Federalists and young Democrats, 
 stanch Puritans and Southern cavaliers, the sons of old 
 England, old Virginia, and old Kentucky, merchants, 
 doctors, lawyers, priests of every church, a sprinkling 
 of literature and of science. On the whole the colonel 
 was severely treated. Some of our number knew him 
 when in the West, and had personal anecdotes to re- 
 late about him. 
 
 TO R. W. EMERSON. 
 
 Louisville, April 30, 1838. 
 I received your prospectus and letter with much 
 pleasure this morning. I found I could have disposed 
 of more copies of the " French Kevolution " than were 
 subscribed for, and therefore will take on my own 
 responsibility twelve copies of the " Miscellaneous 
 Writings." . . .
 
 JOUBNALS AND LETTERS. 121 
 
 My chief companion in the study of Carlyle is George 
 Keats, a brother of the poet. ... He read '^ Nature " 
 with much pleasure, but tohl me that the song, " Take, 
 oh take," which you ascribe to Shakspeare, was from 
 " Rollo," by Fletcher. . . . " Sartor " he likes much, and 
 says that often when debating with the other bank-direc- 
 tors about discounting, etc., he is puzzling himself to 
 find out the meaning of what they are all doing by the 
 application of the Sartor philosophy, to tear off the shows 
 of things, and see their essence. But he has quarreled 
 with the "French Revolution" all along for being so 
 Jacobinical ; he thinks that the poor aristocrats do not 
 get any of the sympathy which all others receive, and 
 that Carlyle seems even to enjoy their troubles. . . . 
 
 We are just on the verge of May. To-morrow all the 
 school-girls choose their May-queens, and I shall go 
 into the woods, and read Wordsworth's " Ode to May." 
 Our forests are full of beauty and perfume and song. 
 You never saw anything like them in New England. 
 But in the pictures of the " Flight into Egypt " you 
 have seen the same vast old trunks, and cheerful vistas, 
 with soft turf and no underbrush. You will find a 
 Gaspar in every piece of Kentucky forest. 
 
 TO A. H. 
 
 May 19, 1838. 
 
 Not feeling well, I have been spending a week five 
 miles from town, with a family who have the true Ken- 
 tucky character. I think the genuine Kentuckian is 
 the model of what our national character will one day 
 be. He has the enterprise, coolness, sagacity of the 
 North, and the warmth, frankness, and generosity of 
 the South. ... I am delighted to have such a place to 
 visit whenever I feel tired of town. 
 
 July 9, 18.38. 
 
 We had a beautiful celebration on the Fourth. Fifty 
 little girls in the choir sang anthems and hymns sweetly.
 
 122 DIABY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 The church was crowded with all sects. A Methodist 
 gentleman spoke to the children at my request. Within 
 tAvo years how much has prejudice been softened here ! 
 We have reason to thank God and take courage. There 
 were three hundred children present that day, — one 
 hundred of our own, and two hundred from other 
 schools. They had a collation afterward. I have some 
 of the sweetest children in the world in my society. 
 We walk together in the forests, and have fine times. 
 About eighty-five attend regularly at our Sunday school. 
 
 October 13, 1838. 
 
 ... A sweet little girl, the pet lamb, the nursling 
 of a family of thirteen brothers and sisters, died on 
 Tuesday. A man was sent to town (they live in the 
 country) to ask me to come out before she died. I 
 reached the house half an hour after sunrise, and found 
 her lying in her shroud. She was hardly seven years 
 old, — one of those little angels of purity and loveliness 
 that never do anything wrong. ... I stayed the day 
 with them, and the next da^^ read the funeral service of 
 the Episcopal Church. Her mother is an Episcopalian, 
 but her own minister is away. The child was buried, 
 as is the custom in the country, in an inclosure on the 
 plantation. It has been quite sickly here, though not 
 so terribly so as the Eastern papers say. I am just 
 getting over a relapse into which I fell after getting 
 well from a fever which kept me in my room a fort- 
 night. 
 
 Newton, November 22, 1838. 
 
 . . , Since my arrival I have had very pleasant con- 
 versations with Dr. Channing, Mr. Ripley, Mr. Emer- 
 son, Mr. Bartol, F. T. Gray, etc. One man whom I 
 wished much to see I happily met last night at Dr. Park- 
 man's, at the Wednesday - night Club, — John Quincy 
 Adams. No marks of age are about him. His voice is 
 firm, clear, and calm, his eye bright, his whole manner
 
 JOURNALS AND LETTERS. 123 
 
 quietly self-possessed. I ventured to converse with 
 him about his anti-slavery speeches. He did not avoid 
 the subject, but spoke temperately of the opposition he 
 had encountered, as one who feared neither " the light- 
 ning flash nor the all-dreaded thunder-storm " of hostile 
 encounter and party rage. It gratified me much to see 
 him, as I think him the most extraordinary man in our 
 nation just now. 
 
 R. W. EMERSON TO J. F. C. 
 
 Concord, December 1, 1888. 
 My dear Sir, — Here are the verses.^ They have 
 pleased some of my friends, and so may please some of 
 your readers, — and you asked me in the spring if I 
 had not somewhat to contribute to your journal. 
 
 I remember in your letter you mentioned the remark 
 of some friend of yours that the verses, — 
 
 " Take, oh take those lips away," 
 
 were not Shakespeare's. I think they are. Beaumont 
 and Fletcher, nor both together, were ever, I think, vis- 
 ited by such a starry gleam as that stanza. I know it 
 is in " Eollo," but it is in " Measure for Measure " also, 
 and I remember noticing that the Malones and Ste- 
 venses and critical gentry were about evenly divided, — 
 these for Shakespeare, and those for B. and F. But 
 the internal evidence is all for one, none for the other. 
 If he did not write it, they did not, and we shSill have 
 some fourth unknown singer. What care we who sung 
 this or that ! It is we at last who sing, 
 
 TO A. H. 
 
 December 29, 1838. 
 . . . My intercourse with Dr. Chauning was delight- 
 ful. He took a most fatherly interest in me, and I 
 could have laid my Avhole heart open before him, so 
 1 The Humble-Bee.
 
 124 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 benign and tender was he. And then his conversation 
 revolves so steadily around the axis of mighty truths, 
 and turns always upward, lifting us all along. Hopes 
 and prayers for a better time, anxious inquiries into the 
 spiritual state of all men and all societies, broad and 
 deep surveys of the questions most vital to human in- 
 terests, — such are the regular themes of his discourse. 
 And ever and anon there comes an unlooked-for play- 
 fulness into his manner, which is unspeakably graceful 
 and winning. 
 
 As for Mr. Emerson, so great is my respect for the 
 extraordinary dignity and purity of his character, so 
 profound my feeling of the exquisite keenness of his in- 
 tellect and the antique charm of his imagination, that I 
 cannot bear the criticisms which must needs seem shal- 
 low though coming from good and true men. When 
 we are permitted to meet a man whose life is holiness, 
 whose words are gems, whose character is of the purest 
 type of heroism, yet of childlike simplicity, — shall we 
 stop to find fault with the shape of his coat, or the 
 coherence of his opinions, instead of gratefully receiv- 
 ing this Heaven's gift ? Truly there are many in these 
 days who entertain angels unawares. ... I talk of 
 giving up the " Messenger " to W. H. Channing, Ed- 
 ward Cranch, and C. P. Cranch, to be published once 
 more at Cincinnati. 
 
 • TO R. W. EMERSON. 
 
 Louisville, January 1, 1839. 
 It is said to be the nature of suddenly acquired and 
 unexpected wealth to create a longing for more. The 
 poor victim of prosperity, being suddenly lifted out of 
 all his old habitual ways, cannot form at once new 
 habits and be contented. He wants more yet. Such 
 also I find the case with editors. Had you not given 
 me those two poems,* I should probably never have 
 1 Each and All and The Humble-Bee.
 
 JOURNALS AND LETTERS. 125 
 
 asked you for anything ; but now I wish you to give 
 me two more, namely, " The Rhodora," and the lines 
 beginning, — 
 
 " Good-bye, proud world I I 'm going home." 
 
 I have them in my possession, though not by Margaret's 
 fault ; for she gave them to me accidentally among 
 other papers. But, being there, may I print them ? 
 
 I forgot to ask you, when I was in Boston, about the 
 last two volumes of Carlyle. I hope they will appear 
 before long. I wish to subscribe for twelve copies. I 
 find I can dispose of them with perfect ease. It is too 
 late to patronize Carlyle. 
 
 Margaret allowed me to read an address upon Edu- 
 cation which you delivered at Providence. I wish that 
 I might have it to publish also. 
 
 I wish you more than a happy new year, — an active, 
 progressive year, — a year which shall open to us vol- 
 umes of thought, worlds of discovery before unimag- 
 ined. May strength of body and soul be continued to 
 you, patience and pity for short-sighted, clamorous 
 opposers, good counsel and helpfulness for honest seek- 
 ers and sympathizers. 
 
 TO A. H. 
 
 January 22, 1839. 
 William Channing strenuously opposes removing the 
 " Messenger " to Cincinnati. He says that if I am really 
 tired and need relief, they will take it, but if not, I had 
 better continue it. I am undecided. I do not shrink 
 from work. I love it. I need it. The more the better. 
 But I think with you that it would be better, perhaps, 
 to give myself more entirely just now to my church. 
 The work nearest my heart is preaching the gospel, 
 publicly, and from house to house. One of these days 
 I hope to know how. I think I am growing every year 
 nearer to my standard, though it is yet afar off.
 
 126 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 TO A. H. 
 
 February 3, 1839. 
 
 What should you think of the expediency of my leav- 
 ing Louisville ? I have no such serious purpose, but at 
 times I am " exercised in mind " about the propriety of 
 so doing. It often seems to me as if some one else 
 could do more good than I here, and I do more good 
 somewhere else. I am by no means a popular preacher 
 in this place, nor ever shall be. ... I am extremely 
 anxious in this matter to be guided solely by duty. . . . 
 
 William Channing urged me so strongly to retain the 
 " Western Messenger " that I have agreed to do so till 
 the end of the sixth number, volume vi. Then I hope 
 they will take it to Cincinnati. C. P. Cranch stayed 
 three weeks with me after I reached home, and I grew 
 to love him very much, and he me. 
 
 R. W. EMERSON TO J. F. C. 
 
 Concord, February 27, 1839. 
 I am very sorry to have made you wait so long for an 
 answer to your flattering request for two such little 
 poems. You are quite welcome to the lines to " The 
 Rhodora ; " but I think they need the superscription 
 (lines on being asked, *' Whence is the Flower ? "). Of 
 the other verses I send you a corrected copy, but I won- 
 der so much at your wishing to print them that I think 
 you must read them once again with your critical specta- 
 cles, before they go further. They were written sixteen 
 years ago, when I kept school in Boston and lived in 
 a corner of Roxbury called Canterbury. They have a 
 slight misanthropy, — a shade deeper than belongs to 
 me, and, as it seems nowadays I am a philosopher and 
 am grown to have opinions, I think they must have an 
 apologetic date, though I well know that poetry which 
 needs a date is no poetry, and so you will wiselier sup- 
 press them. I heartily wish I had any verses which,
 
 JOURNALS AND LETTERS. 127 
 
 with a clear mind, I could send you in lieu of these 
 juvenilities. It is strange, seeing the delight we take 
 in verses, that we can so seldom write them, and are 
 not ashamed to lay up old ones, say for sixteen years, 
 instead of improvising them as freely as the wind blows, 
 whenever we and our brothers are attuned to music. 
 
 In regard to the Providence discourse, I have no copy 
 of it ; but I will get the manuscript if Margaret Fuller 
 has it, and you shall have it, if it can pass muster. 
 
 I shall certainly avail myself of the good order you 
 give me for twelve copies of the Carlyle ' Miscellanies ' 
 so soon as they appear. He (T. C.) writes in excel- 
 lent spirits of his American friends and readers. . . . 
 Your sister Sarah was kind enough to carry me, the 
 other day, to see some pencil sketches done by Stewart 
 Newton. They seemed to me to betray the richest in- 
 vention ; so rich as almost to say, " Why draw any line, 
 since you can draw all ? Genius has given you the 
 freedom of the universe ; why, then, come within any 
 walls ? " And this seems to be the old moral which 
 we draw from our fable, read it how or where we will, 
 that we cannot make one good stroke until we can make 
 every possible stroke ; and when we can make one, 
 every one seems superfluous. 
 
 I heartily thank you for the good wishes you send 
 me to open the year, and I say them back again to you. 
 Your field is a world, and all men are your spectators, 
 and all men must respect the true and great-hearted 
 service you render. And yet it is not spectator or 
 spectacle that concerns either you or me. The whole 
 world is sick of that very ail, — of being seen and of 
 seemliness. It belongs to the brave now to trust them- 
 selves infinitely, and to sit and hearken alone. 
 
 I am glad to see William Channing is one of your 
 coadjutors. Mrs. Jameson's new book I should think 
 would bring a caravan of travelers, aesthetic, artistic, 
 and what not, up your mighty streams, or along the
 
 128 DIARY AND CORBESFONDENCK 
 
 Lakes to Mackinaw. As I read I almost vowed an ex- 
 ploration, but I doubt if I ever get beyond the Hudson. 
 
 TO R. W. EMERSOX. 
 
 Louisville, March 11, 1839. 
 
 I received to-day your kind letter, inclosing the lines, 
 " Good-bye, proud world," for which I thank you. . . . 
 
 I am passing my days here happily, having enough 
 to do, and being able to do it naturally and without the 
 constraint which custom, opinion and expectation lay 
 upon the preacher in ISTew England. Preaching is to 
 me a delightful office, and especially in this, that I al- 
 ways seem to be beginning to preach. It seems to me 
 often as I leave the church as if neither I nor any one 
 else had preached since the days of the Apostles, and that 
 there is an untrodden domain of power and influence in 
 that department, when we can find the word which will 
 let us into it. There are three modes of influencing 
 men : through books, through public speaking, and by 
 private intercourse. The second has been tame, formal, 
 and dead, and yet, methinks, it might become a weapon 
 of irresistible power. I have dreams and imaginations 
 of what it may one day accomplish, but Avhether in this 
 generation I cannot tell. I think that oratory will be 
 carried farther in this land than it ever has been before, 
 for he Avho can persuade and convince multitudes by his 
 speech is the monarch in our country. But I am talk- 
 ing my crude thoughts to one who has considered the 
 whole matter. 
 
 TO A. H. 
 
 Cincinnati, Ohio, March 18, 1839. 
 ... I called on one of the trustees, and stated to him 
 frankly my views and feelings about the expediency of 
 a change in the pastorate of the society, and requested 
 him to call a meeting of the trustees and communicate 
 those views to them, and ask them to tell me with equal 
 openness their own opinion. I represented to him that
 
 JOUENALS AND LETTERS. 129 
 
 it was my sincere wish to remain witli the society, and 
 that it would cost me a pang to leave them ; that I 
 equally believed every one in the society personally at- 
 tached to myself. But this mutual attachment did not 
 decide the question: Was I doing as much good as 
 might be done by some one else ? This last was what 
 I wanted light upon ; on the answer to this question. I 
 was willing to rest the other : Should I remain or leave 
 them ? If I was doing as much good as any one else 
 could do, I was willing to stay ; otherwise I felt that I 
 ought to leave them. I was willing to let the personal 
 question : Could I do more good elsewhere ? remain a 
 secondary one, and other points also of a like nature. 
 The good of the society should decide whether I stayed 
 or left. I then gave my reasons for thinking that some 
 one else might be found better suited than I to advance 
 its interests. These were : 1. The society, though it 
 had certainly increased, and was increasing under my 
 care, yet as certainly increased but slowly. 2. Other 
 men, of a different manner and turn of delivery, who 
 had visited the city, had apparently excited a greater 
 interest, and the nature of the people seemed to require 
 a man of a different manner. . . . 
 
 If I leave Louisville I shall wish to go to a free State. 
 Every day I become more of an abolitionist. 
 
 TO A. H. 
 
 May 15, 1839. 
 
 . . . We had a delightful time at Cincinnati. Mr. 
 Farley, W. G. Eliot, and myself were all who were pres- 
 ent to conduct the exercises. Mr. Farley preached the 
 sermon, Eliot gave the charge, and I the right hand. It 
 was on Friday night. May 10th. The church was well 
 filled, and they all said it was the most interesting or- 
 dination ^ they ever attended. But so they always say. 
 
 Mr. Farley arrived from New Orleans on the Sunday 
 ^ The ordination of William Henry Channing-.
 
 130 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 previous, landed at Shippingport at half past ten, took 
 a hack, and drove direct to my church. I was in the 
 second prayer. He came up into the pulpit, and 
 preached for me all day. 
 
 I was in Cincinnati Wednesday, Thursday, and Fri- 
 day, and besides talking much with William H. Chan- 
 ning and William G. Eliot, had to prepare my address 
 for Friday night. On Wednesday I called on a sick 
 lady, and at Mr. Vaughan's, where Mr. Farley stayed ; 
 at Mrs. Greene's twice ; visited a public school and ex- 
 amined it, and made a speech to the children, took tea 
 at Mr. Vaughan's with Farley, Channing, Perkins and 
 wife, William Greene, and Edward Cranch, and then 
 went to a teachers' meeting with them, where we stayed 
 talking till ten p. m., and then went home with W. H. 
 C, to Mrs. Stetson's, where we talked till twelve. 
 Thursday, engaged in talking with Mr. St. John, writ- 
 ing my " Right Hand," and calling at three places to 
 find a friend. Mrs. Stetson had a dinner party of four 
 or five. After dinner, with my friend S. B. Sumner, 
 who went up with me from Louisville, I again attended 
 an examination of the city schools ; then four of us 
 drove in Mrs. Stetson's carriage into the beautiful en- 
 virons of Cincinnati, and made a call; returning, took 
 tea at home with S. B. S. and Perkins ; then went to 
 an inquiry or conversation meeting in the vestry of the 
 church. Afterwards to a great wedding at Dr. Drake's, 
 where we saw a buckeye bowl, holding four pails full of 
 lemonade, dipped out with an Alabama gourd, and the 
 bridegroom and bride married under a bower of buck- 
 eye. 
 
 I have forgotten to mention our going to Mr. Long- 
 worth's splendid garden, and seeing his varieties of 
 cactus in the hot-house, as also our examining a fine 
 church. On Friday William Eliot arrived, and in talk- 
 ing and preparing for the night, another dinner party of 
 friends, and more calls, we consumed the day. Satur- 
 day morning T returned home.
 
 JOURNALS AND LETTERS. 131 
 
 ' TO A. H. 
 
 Louisville, May 30, 1839. 
 . . . The city have made me agent of the public 
 schools. The schools have a vacation through August, 
 but till then I should not wish to be away, as I shall 
 have to learn how to do a good many things. They pay 
 me a salary of $400 a year, and my duties are to over- 
 look the concerns of eight schools. I accepted the 
 office with pleasure, as I thought it would give me an 
 opportunity of doing good to the schools, and also be of 
 service to my church by bringing me in contact with 
 many people whom I should not otherwise see. It was 
 a proof of the liberality of the place that my religious 
 opinions were no barrier. I did not know a single mem- 
 ber of the city council personally, and yet the vote was 
 ten to three in my favor. 
 
 TO A. H. 
 
 July 21, 1839. 
 The examinations of the schools continue till Satur- 
 day, the 3d day of August. On Monday the City Coun- 
 cil meets to choose teachers. This 4th of August winds 
 up another cycle in my life, and makes a new epoch. 
 Six years ago, on the 4th of August, I landed in Louis- 
 ville, a stranger all forlorn, to begin my work, and see 
 if I could do anything in the world for its good. These 
 six years have changed me from a sentimental dreamer 
 into a practical man. Sentiment has been quite worked 
 out of me, imagination toned down ; I am but a poor, 
 dull, prosaic, commonplace person now. . . . But cour- 
 age ! my powers are better balanced, disciplined, more 
 manageable, if not so exuberant as formerly. 
 
 July 25, 1839. 
 My time is so full that I am running to and fro from 
 morn till dewy eve. My days are " shingled over," as
 
 132 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 the Kentuckian says, with engagements, each overlap- 
 ping the other : examining schools ; ditto teachers ; 
 writing out lists of scholars ; visiting sick parishioners ; 
 writing sermons ; buying medals for children's prizes ; 
 putting advertisements in the paper ; answering letters 
 of candidates for situations, which main employments 
 are diversified with a sprinkling of various smaller con- 
 cerns. 
 
 August 1, 1839. 
 
 We have spent this week in examining the city 
 schools, and to-day we distributed some rewards. The 
 girls were collected in a large room, to the number of 
 two or three hundred, all neatly dressed, with sweet 
 manners and bright good faces. We gave them twenty- 
 five silver medals and some books. 
 
 More work remains for me till Saturday night about 
 the schools, and I cannot leave till Monday or Tuesday. 
 I must vote on Monday, like a good citizen, and then I 
 think I shall leave. . . . 
 
 This week has been so hot, and I have had so much 
 to do, that I am fairly worn out. It has been the hot- 
 test weather I have known in Kentucky. The corn is 
 parched in the fields, and man's blood heated into fever 
 in his veins. I shall be glad to escape for some weeks 
 from this burning atmosphere to the cooler latitude of 
 Meadville. 
 
 Half of my society have gone to the East. 
 
 In August, 1839, Mr. Clarke was married to Anna 
 Huidekoper, of Meadville, Pennsylvania. A few weeks 
 later they went to Louisville, and Mr. Clarke devoted 
 the winter to his church and to the superintendence of 
 the city schools. This last work occupied a good deal 
 of time. During the winter, he finally made up his 
 mind to leave Louisville. He remained, however, until 
 the middle of June. Mrs. Clarke left a little earlier for 
 Meadville.
 
 JOURNALS AND LETTERS. 133 
 
 TO A. H. C. 
 
 Louisville, May 29, 1840. 
 ... I have made up my mind to one thing conclu- 
 sively, i. e., not to commit myself hastily to any new 
 situation or work. What I next undertake, I wish to 
 continue at through life. ... If I know myself I wish 
 to be useful, and whatever I do, I wish preaching al- 
 ways to be my chief work. I love my profession, see 
 my deficiencies, see my capabilities, and expect and 
 intend to improve. 
 
 TO A. H. C. 
 
 Newton, Mass., September 2.5, 1840. 
 
 ... I find social life in a precious state of fermen- 
 tation. New ideas are flying, high and low. Every 
 man, as Mr. Emerson remarked to me yesterday, carries 
 a revolution in his waistcoat pocket. 
 
 The prevailing idea, however, just now seems to be 
 of a community in which all persons are to live after 
 the fashion of the Eapps or Owens. ]\Ir. Ripley appears 
 fermenting and effervescing to a high degree with these 
 new ideas. The remarkable thing is that everybody has 
 a distinct idea, plan, or project, and no two persons can 
 be found to agree in any. 
 
 Greenfield, October 5, 1840. 
 
 ... I saw Mr. Bacon, of Louisville, the other day. 
 Among other things he said this, which may have truth 
 in it : " The society, when you went there, had no reli- 
 gious interest. It was based on a spirit of opposition, 
 — opposition to Orthodoxy. Now it is different. There 
 is religion and a true spirit in it. You think you have 
 done little in seven years. I do not see how you could 
 possibly do more." 
 
 There are many large parishes vacant, where I might 
 settle, and it would be pleasant enough to have leisure
 
 134 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 for study, but I think I could do more good in a city, 
 and am better suited for that life. . . . What I should 
 like best would be a church founded on elective affini- 
 ties, — not on the purse principle. I mean a society 
 drawn together because they like me and my ideas. To 
 such I could do much good.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 
 
 [Dr. Clarke's Autobiography, as the reader has seen, breaks o£E 
 somewhat abruptly. The remaining- part of this memoir, therefore, 
 must be necessarily made up from other materials than that which he 
 had himself arranged. We have used his diaries and journals, and 
 some other "table-books;" liis printed notes, which often contain 
 biographical allusions; and his correspondence with friends.] 
 
 The brief notes iii his diary show that Mr. Clarke 
 left Louisville at the end of his ministry there, on the 
 16th of June, 1840. Some of the last of these little 
 memoranda show the range of his life, and are curious 
 after fifty years. "Professor Espy called." This is 
 the gentleman who engaged general attention, at that 
 time, by his scientific study of the weather. " Called 
 upon ]\Ir. Espy, and talked with him upon foreknow- 
 ledge and decrees." ''Talked with Espy. Attended 
 Espy's lecture. He looks in the face like Dr. Hedge, 
 and has his logical turn of mind." 
 
 " June 1. Interview at the ' Journal ' office with Dr. 
 Yandell and Dr. Wilder. Gave article in defense of 
 Dr. Hall to George D. Prentice." This was the Mr. 
 Prentice celebrated in the politics of the day. 
 
 For the rest of the year 1840 he had no regular charge 
 in the ministry, and he spent most of that time at 
 Meadville. The diary shows, however, that he preached 
 almost every Sunday. Among other places, he was at 
 Chicago, where he helped to establish the first Unita- 
 rian church in that town. The memoranda in the diary 
 are : " Preached in a Chicago hotel parlor." " Preached 
 Sunday, Tuesday, and Friday." On the 22d of August
 
 136 DIAIiY ANIJ CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 he left Meadville for Boston, and arrived at Newton 
 on the 17th of September, making several stops by the 
 way. He left Boston again for Meadville, October 22d. 
 " Take Shark, the Newfoundland dog." ^ The route is 
 interesting. He went from Boston to New York, by 
 Providence and steamboat on Long Island Sound ; from 
 New York to Albany, " on the steamer ; " to Buffalo, by 
 rail and stage ; " by steamer from Buffalo to Erie, on 
 the 26th," but was driven back by a storm to the Can- 
 ada shore. Through November and December he was 
 at Meadville, and was occupied, as he had been through 
 the autumn, in the translation of " Theodore." On the 
 12th of January, 1841, he left Meadville again, and 
 arrived in Boston on the 18th. 
 
 With this chapter, therefore, begins the history of 
 nearly fifty years of very active life. That life is sin- 
 gularly varied, seeing that it is the life of a man who 
 was, through the whole of it, the minister of one con- 
 gregation in one city. I think that those who write 
 the lives of clergymen usually find it hard to interest 
 their readers in the general course of those lives. In 
 truth, they are sure of one element of romance, for 
 there is in them hardly anything which should be called 
 routine. A working minister wakes in the morning 
 with no idea what adventure he is to try before the day 
 is done. To him, of all men, " the unexpected is what 
 happens." But it is as difiicult to describe such a life 
 as it is to describe the leaves of a forest. And my ex- 
 perience of the biographies of ministers does not en- 
 courage me in any attempt to make real to the reader 
 the course of a week of Freeman Clarke's life, and far 
 less that of a year. Failing this, however, I beg the 
 
 ' Shark proved a difficult traveling' companion. The passengers 
 naturally objected to his presence inside the stage-coach, and Mr. 
 Clarke was obliged to ride outside, in a bitterly cold snow-storm, to 
 keep the dog company. At Buffalo Shark was pait on a vessel for 
 Chicago.
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 137 
 
 reader to remember that here is a man who had conse- 
 crated himself to do the duty next his hand, who was 
 on the lookout for that duty, and always did it as well 
 as he could, " the moral purpose entirely controlling 
 such mental aptness or physical habits as he could 
 bring to bear." Thus it happens that his life for nearly 
 fifty years touches every important movement of that 
 time. In the hands of a master it might be made the 
 thread of the history of America for half a century. 
 Whatever else may be said of it, it does not lack vari- 
 ety. 
 
 This general remark is specially illustrated in such a 
 life as Mr. Clarke led in Boston between the years 1841 
 and 1849. Whoever deals with the local history of the 
 town in those years has to attempt the description of a 
 certain local ferment, involving eager expectation and a 
 readiness for new things, which certainly does not char- 
 acterize the Boston of to-day, and did not characterize 
 the Boston of the beginning of the century. The anti- 
 slavery leaders were at their best ; they had a mountain 
 to cast into the sea, and they were loyally going about 
 that business, with little but faith to sustain them. Re- 
 formers of every school had broken with all the bonds 
 which the church, in various organizations, had con-' 
 trived for their repression. In speculation, morals, and 
 the philosophy of the intellect, as in the consideration 
 of religion, the word " transcendental " had begun to be 
 heard, and with it came in the suspicion that the higher 
 law, nay, the highest law, might be found available as 
 an everyday direction. Into the midst of the enthusi- 
 asms thus aroused came the prophecies of the ps3-chical 
 experimenters of whatever name, — each one generally 
 adopting a new one, — and they brought their fascinat- 
 ing suggestion that, by rightly developing the fit organs 
 of the brain, we might produce, almost to order, poetry 
 better than Dante's or Milton's, and science more accu- 
 rate than Newton's or La Place's. In a word, prophecy
 
 138 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 was in order, — not to say in fashion. There was a 
 general sympathy with St. Paul and George Fox and 
 people of that type, who did not travel in the steps of 
 Pharisees or of priests. Mr. Brisbane, by an admirably 
 conducted propaganda, was bringing into notice Charles 
 Fourier's plans, and dear Robert Owen,^ not meaning to 
 be forgotten, came from England with his own. In 
 Boston, by a sort of natural law, the prophets of new 
 beliefs or new suspicions made rendezvous. When, in 
 1842, the friends of Bronson Alcott thought to give him, 
 and indeed themselves, a little rest, by sending him to 
 Europe on a summer outing, as he landed at Liverpool 
 he met some correspondents, who with him instantly 
 held a convention at a school which had been named 
 Alcott Lodge in his honor. At this convention it was 
 at once voted that the United States of America was 
 the fittest place for the redemption of mankind to be- 
 gin. And so, before the summer was over, he returned 
 with a certain Mv. Lane and Mr. Wright, with spirits 
 far more excited than his own, to undertake that re- 
 demption. They held new conventions, and established 
 the experiment of " Consociation " ^ to '' redeem society 
 
 * 1 In 1844 he was stone-deaf. I had the happy good fortune in my 
 young days to have a voice so loud that I could make him hear. In 
 the winter of 1844-45, I sat next him at a boarding-house table in 
 "Washington, and used to interpret to him, as I could, the voices of the 
 time. The dear saint was urging Congress to vote five millions for a 
 fair trial of his ".Social Unions," and, till Congress adjourned, after 
 the death-struggle of the annexation of Texas, which occupied every 
 thought of every man excepting him, he really supposed that this 
 appropriation could be made, and that, at seventy-eight years of age, 
 he would see his solution of social evil determined on for mankind. — 
 E. EH. 
 
 ■2 " Fruitlands," as the colony was called, is well described by Miss 
 Alcott. See Silver Pitchers, p. 79. It was before the days of kero- 
 sene, and, to avoid killing whales for oil, the company dispensed with 
 the use of lamps. You " conversed" in the dark on a winter even- 
 ing ; and when you went to bed, you carried a torch of twisted news- 
 paper. — E. E. H.
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 139 
 
 from the institution of property." They were quite 
 successful in this effort, so far as the property-holding 
 members of their own number are to be regarded. This 
 " movement " was a little later in time than the associa- 
 tions which had tried other social experiments at Brook 
 Farm, at Hopedale, and at Florence, not to mention 
 places outside of New England. 
 
 Meanwhile, the idolatry of the letter of Scripture 
 bore legitimate fruit in the proclamation, by William 
 Miller, that the world would end in the year 1843, on or 
 about the 20th of March. The mathematical instinct 
 of New England especially approved of the additions 
 and subtractions of figures which were found in the 
 books of Daniel and the Revelation, which, beginning 
 with dates in Rollin's History, came out neatly, by the 
 older calendar, at the beginning of 1843. The Latter- 
 Day Saints, generally known as Mormons, also had an 
 establishment in Boston, where the Golden Book was 
 expounded. 
 
 In more decorous quarters, the ferment created by 
 the Oxford Movement in England was scarcely less. 
 The most striking tracts and papers in the English con- 
 troversy were reprinted in America; and, on a smaller 
 scale, the Protestant Episcopal Church here repeated 
 the discussions, and tried the experiments in ritual, 
 which were thrilling the Established Church of Eng- 
 land. 
 
 There was hardly one of these interests but engaged 
 Mr. Clarke's attention. 
 
 A good illustration of what Boston was may be found 
 in the interest taken in Dr. James Walker's lectures on 
 natural theology, the first in a series founded by Mr. 
 John Lowell, Jr. They were scholarly and thorough 
 addresses, such as he might have delivered to an ad- 
 vanced class in a divinity school. They followed the 
 general lines of Benjamin Constant's book on religion, 
 with elaborate studies of the views of different modern
 
 140 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCK 
 
 philosophers. To hear these lectures, twice a week, 
 two thousand men and women came together, so as to 
 crowd the Odeon. as the building was called which had 
 been the Federal Street Theatre/ The adult population 
 of Boston was then about forty thousand people, and 
 the character of the town is shown in the fact that one 
 twentieth part of them went thus to hear this study of 
 the speculations of the modern world on the being of 
 God. 
 
 Under an impulse given by Mr. Samuel A. Eliot, who 
 represented Boston in Congress a few years later, Bee- 
 thoven's symphonies were performed for the first time 
 in Boston in the same hall ; a new revelation of the 
 power of music to most of those who were present. 
 And at these concerts also, the hall was filled to its 
 utmost capacity. 
 
 It should be remembered that steam or horse railway 
 communication with the suburbs was unknown, so that 
 the audiences were made up almost wholly of the resi- 
 dents of the town. 
 
 Mr. Emerson's career as a lecturer was just begin- 
 ning. It is hard to say that he was at his best at one 
 period of his life more than at another. But it is on 
 record that Mr. Emerson said that '* the usual experi- 
 ence is " that a man thinks his best thoughts between 
 thirty and forty. " When the impulse of youth is on 
 the man he sees most clearly." The group of thinking 
 people who made the centre of the Church of the Disci- 
 ples were just the people who were sure to be present 
 in Mr. Emerson's au^diences. 
 
 In the same years, or a little later, William Henry 
 Channing spent some months in Boston, and called to- 
 gether a sympathetic religious society. '' If he had 
 told us to take any bootblack from the street into our 
 homes, and clothe him in purple and fine linen, we 
 would have done so," — these are the words of one of 
 his admirers. For the pure and simple gift of elo-
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 141 
 
 quence, so far as it consists in seizing the right word at 
 the right instant, and speaking with all the passion of 
 personal conviction, Mr. Channing had no rival among 
 the men around him. Between him and Mr. Clarke 
 there had been the most intimate friendship, since the 
 days when they sat side by side in the Latin School. 
 They were associated afterwards in writing the life of 
 their friend Margaret Fuller. They always called one 
 another " James " and " William." 
 
 For Wendell Phillips Mr. Clarke had a high respect. 
 And here may be as fit a place as any to say that, 
 while Mr. Phillips was a raging lion in denouncing 
 iniquity wherever he found it, among his friends and 
 in his family he was the most gentle and affectionate 
 of men.^ In the nice distinctions of the anti-slavery 
 forces, it happened that he and Mr. Clarke did not live 
 under the same tent. But it would be idle now to at- 
 tempt to explain the difference between the " old organ- 
 ization " and the " new organization ; " between the 
 abolitionist who could vote and the abolitionist who 
 could not vote ; between those who could go to a legis- 
 lature and those who thought the Constitution was a 
 covenant with hell. It is enough to say that in such 
 distinctions Mr. Phillips was of the old line, pure and 
 simple, regarded all political parties with equal scorn, 
 and had, perhaps, no confidence in any public men. 
 Mr. Clarke, on the other hand, was a free lance here as 
 he was everywhere. He was therefore ready and able 
 to give the strong weight of his personal character to 
 the enterprises carried out by such men as Palfrey, 
 Sumner, and Andrew. 
 
 The reader has seen from his Autobiography that he 
 had the counsel and sympathy of the great Unitarian 
 
 1 Writing of "Wendell," in 1880, Dr. Clarke said: "I told W. 
 Phillips the first time I met him after his tirade that I had heretofore 
 felt a little neglected, as he had attacked nearly every one else ; now 
 my mind was relieved."
 
 142 DIAKY AND COEBESPONDENCE. 
 
 leader, Dr. William Elleiy Channing, in the gathering 
 of the Church of the Disciples. This sympathy showed 
 itself in many forms after the church was established. 
 The Diary shows that Mr. Clarke frequently visited 
 Dr. Channing. Dr. Channing's health at this time was 
 such that he seldom preached. But his counsels were 
 as wise as ever, and his views of the situation of 
 America in matters of politics, and also of what is 
 called religion, were prophetic. Dr. Hedge, who was 
 as intimate with Dr. Channing as Mr. Clarke was, once 
 said to me, of such visits of his younger friends : — 
 
 " I often met Clarke at Dr. Channing's house. He 
 would ask us both to dine there, and we would meet 
 at dinner. There was no gossip at Dr. Channing's ; 
 the conversation, if you could call it conversation, was 
 always on some high theme. But in truth it was not 
 conversation ; it was simply a monologue by Dr. Chan- 
 ning himself. This, or something about it, led you to 
 feel very much dissatisfied with yourself when you 
 came away. He did not pay the slightest attention to 
 anything you said. If you asked a question, he very 
 probably did not answer it ; he went on talking on the 
 thing which interested him. So that my presence there 
 with Clarke did not add much to my knowledge of 
 Clarke or my acquaintance with him. But I think Dr. 
 Channing respected him very highly." 
 
 Margaret Fuller, whom the reader has seen in Mr. 
 Clarke's notes of his Cambridge life, had begun her 
 series of " Conversations " in Boston. The description 
 given of them in the Life of her by Mr. Clarke, Mr. W. 
 H. Channing, and Mr. Emerson, is from Channing's 
 pen and her own. Her conduct of these classes, as 
 they were called for want of a better name, was " ex- 
 cellent," to take Mr. Emerson's phrase. She sat at one 
 end of the room, and the body of visitors, or " assist- 
 ants," arranged themselves as they could, so that they 
 might see and hear her. Nine tenths of them were in
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 143 
 
 the mood of people 'paying homage, which, indeed, she 
 well deserved. But she would not and did not accept 
 it. The skill, the tact, with which she threw back the 
 ball of conversation, so as to start this listener or that, 
 and the success with which she made him speak and 
 say his best, were clear tokens of her real genius, 
 and, more than anything she said herself, showed 
 that she was the mistress of the company and of the 
 occasion. 
 
 The meetings of the class at which I saw her most 
 often, and where Mr. Clarke met her also, were in the 
 parlors of Dr. Nathaniel Peabody's house. The reader 
 would not understand all the scenery of the drama 
 which Mr. Clarke's notes describe, unless he knew Avhat 
 this house was. In the determination of young Boston 
 to keep more in the current of the flow of German and 
 French life. Dr. Peabody and his daughter Elizabeth 
 opened what was an immense convenience for these 
 readers. It was a foreign book-store and reading-room. 
 To the working purposes of this institute — for it was 
 such — they gave the front room of the lower story 
 of the house in West Street which was their home. 
 Here the " Dial " was published. Here any one could 
 subscribe a small annual fee, and carry home the last 
 German or French review. " The ' Revue des Deux 
 Mondes ' is a liberal education," said one of the bright 
 girls who first saw it there. Here, when one looked 
 in of a morning or afternoon, he met, as the chance 
 might give, Mr. Allston the artist, Mr. Emerson, Mr. 
 Ripley, Mr. Hawthorne, Mr. Hedge, — not then Doc- 
 tor, — Mr. Clarke, or the three Misses Peabody, — one 
 of whom became Mrs. Mann, and one Mrs. Hawthorne ; 
 the other survives, to sympathize still with every phil- 
 anthropic endeavor, and as sure as she was then that 
 the good time is coming. 
 
 To one who remembers how very '' English ' ' the 
 training of young Boston had been till now, — fed on
 
 144 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Blackwood, Fraser, and the English quarterlies, — it 
 will be seen that the opening of this modest reading- 
 room for books printed in France and Germany, with a 
 chance to meet those who read them most, was an en- 
 largement of the means of education. 
 
 This will be as good a place as any to tell one of Mr. 
 Clarke's common-sense repartees. Some high-flyer of 
 the time was explaining how in churches the Eig-Veda 
 should lie by the Bible, and passages from both should 
 be read aloud. " In what language will you read 
 them ? " said Mr. Clarke. " In English, of course." 
 " Then you understand Sanskrit ? " Not he, indeed ; 
 it was as much as ever that he could write or spell 
 English. And Mr. Clarke had to explain to him, what 
 was at that time true, but what he did not know, that 
 none of the Vedas existed in the English language. 
 
 But first, last, and always, in the midst of all such 
 interests, Mr. Clarke was the minister of the Church of 
 the Disciples. On one or two occasions, especially on 
 his seventieth birthday, he reviewed its history ; and 
 some extracts from such reviews will make the greater 
 part of this chapter. 
 
 The letters which follow these extracts need but 
 little illustration. It is quite enough to say that, to 
 the more staid and decorous circles of the little town 
 which was now to be his home, the sudden arrival and 
 establishment of this wide-awake young townsman, who 
 had really lived on the other side of the Alleghanies, 
 was a marvel hardly to be explained. The older 
 churches of Boston had run on, in a tenor not much 
 broken, for one or two centuries. The population of 
 the place had increased by slow and regular stages since 
 the Eevolution, and occasionally a new Congregational 
 church — Liberal or Evangelical, as circumstances 
 might require — had been added to the historical cal- 
 endar. But now a company of people came together, 
 and a wide-awake young minister led them, who showed
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 145 
 
 in what they did, rather than in what they said, that 
 more might be expected of a church tlian churches 
 were in the habit of attempting. What was not unnat- 
 ural was that young people of spirit, as they heard of 
 the new church, tried the experiment of attending its 
 services. Not unnaturally they joined the society. 
 The new minister, who was anything but a proselyte r, 
 was looked upon, therefore, with a certain grotesque 
 jealousy by some of the older professional brethren. 
 " He is nothing but a thief and a robber," was the dole- 
 ful ejaculation of one of them, half in joke and half in 
 earnest. Mr. Clarke himself never quarreled with any- 
 body, criticised nobody's methods, but was satisfied to 
 organize his church in his own way. 
 
 At this time, after half a century, it is hard to be- 
 lieve that any of the novelties then introduced should 
 have challenged much attention, and harder to think 
 that the criticism should ever have been unkind. First, 
 second, and last, the new church stood for religion. It 
 was to be made up of people who wanted more life, and 
 came to God for it. These people united to take a 
 part in worship and in the forms by which worship 
 was conducted. In what was left of the Puritan ritual 
 people hardly did join, except as a Frenchman ''as- 
 sists " at a play. The minister conducted all the ser- 
 vice but that of song ; a choir conducted this. The 
 congregation stood in prayer, but said nothing, from 
 one end of the service to another.^ Once more, the 
 people of the neAv church wanted to know each other, 
 and expected to give and take, to and from each other, 
 the best results of religious experience. Meetings on 
 week-days, less formal than those on Sunday, meet- 
 ings for conversation and for work in charity, were not 
 to be accidents fastened upon the movement of the 
 
 ^ In the theory of Congreg'ationalisni, any chiirch member has a 
 right to speak as the service goes on. But in practice this has scarcely 
 been done since the first generation of New England.
 
 146 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 church, but an integral part of its life. The business 
 of the church, indeed, was not to be managed, as in the 
 methods which New England had drifted into, by a 
 secular committee of tax-payers. All was to be done 
 by the church itself, which had covenanted together 
 for closer intimacy with God. 
 
 After fifty years, all this might now be said of almost 
 any church in New England, of whatever communion. 
 Mr. Clarke and the Church of the Disciples would 
 hardly claim that they brought about the change in 
 church-life which has come in those years. But it was 
 their good fortune to be in the front rank of the pio- 
 neers. 
 
 To the end of his life, he tried to persuade himself 
 and others that because he was but one of the people 
 who did good work in the Church of the Disciples, he 
 was the least important of its ministers. He would say 
 to you, in perfectly good faith, that if he could not take 
 the Sunday service, Brother Andrew or Brother Win- 
 slow could take it, and he tried to believe, as he also 
 wished to have other people believe, that he was less 
 essential to its welfare than, in most churches, a well 
 beloved minister is thought to be. Those who remem- 
 ber him in the Church of the Disciples know just how 
 far this was true, and just how far it was not true. It 
 was true in theory. But in practice these people always 
 wanted to hear him preach, and always knew that they 
 were making a sacrifice to their principles when they 
 assented to the substitution of another in his pulpit. 
 He did succeed to a great extent in breaking up the 
 wretched habit, which had grown up in Boston, of call- 
 ing a church by the name of its minister. He and his 
 succeeded in making people say "The Church of the 
 Disciples " instead of " Mr. Clarke's church." And 
 although the Unitarians had given names to churches 
 before, I think that the very happy selection of this 
 name had much to do with the frequency with which 
 such names are given now.
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 147 
 
 The new church began without any choir for singing, 
 and it has never had any. It soon introduced a hymn- 
 book compiled by Mr. Clarke, and a form of liturgic 
 service also prepared by him, both of which are still in 
 use. It will not escape observation, however, that if 
 all the members had really been '' ministers " in the 
 same sense, as in theory they were, the preparation of 
 these hand-books would not have been thrown upon the 
 same person who was regularly conducting the Sunday 
 service. But probably this means, what all history 
 seems to have shown, that whether a church can or can- 
 not exist without an overseer, it is much more apt to 
 have an overseer than not ; that the better the over- 
 seer, the better the church, and that in proportion as 
 the members of the church are willing to work loyally 
 in the Master's service, in that proportion will the over- 
 seer work faithfully and well. 
 
 I have said above that most of what were considered 
 novelties in 1841 would now be considered matters of 
 course in most of the churches in New England. The 
 most important matter in which the example of the 
 Church of the Disciples has not been followed is the 
 fundamental principle. In that church the manage- 
 ment of the whole enterprise is subject to the vote 
 of the majority of the regular worshipers, and is not 
 left, as in most ]S3"ew England congregations, to the 
 vote of the holders of the church property. A New 
 England lawyer would say that its affairs are governed 
 by the " church," and not by the " society." Of course, 
 when it held no property except a Bible and a few 
 hymn-books, and hired a hall for its assemblies, the 
 distinction was wholly unimportant. So soon as the 
 members subscribed money to build for themselves a 
 meeting-house, so soon the question came in again, who 
 was to say how this meeting-house was to be used. In 
 point of fact, however, that question, so difficult to an- 
 swer in theory, has never made any practical difficulty
 
 118 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 in the Church of the Disciples. A board of trustees 
 holds the title to the church, and gives the use of it for 
 such purposes as are agreed upon by those who unite in 
 its covenant. 
 
 The new church devoted itself, in its very birth, to 
 all such enterprises of public spirit as came within the 
 wide range of the sympathies of its members. The 
 most resolute and loyal of its members regarded the 
 engagement to its Wednesday evening meetings as tak- 
 ing precedence of all others. At these meetings there 
 was familiar talk on every subject of large and vital 
 interest. It might be speculative philosophy ; it might 
 be some important turn in the politics of the nation, 
 the state, or the city ; it might be some necessary re- 
 form in morals ; it might be some detail in the plans 
 of the church ; it might be some new book of stimulat- 
 ing interest ; it might be some sudden exigency requir- 
 ing prompt, vigorous action. Nothing was out of place, 
 if it were only large, and especially if it involved some 
 duty. From such meetings came the support of the 
 work of John Augustus, the counselor of prisoners. 
 From another set of inquiries came the establishment 
 of the Temporary Home for Children; from another, 
 the Home for Aged Colored Women ; from another, the 
 Children's Aid Society. Where a circle of intelligent 
 and ready men and women met with such regularity, it 
 was natural to bring to their meetings any one who 
 had a story of public interest to tell, or a cause to ad- 
 vocate which needed help. A runaway slave, a Euro- 
 pean exile, the apostle of a new movement, all were 
 welcome to the friendly hospitalities of the Church of 
 the Disciples. It earned for itself the honor, for which 
 every church should strive, of being a church for week- 
 days, quite as much as it was for Sundays. 
 
 it should be observed, however, in all studies of its 
 constitution, that the Church of the Disciples repre- 
 sented to its founder the idea of a " free church," first,
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 149 
 
 last, and always. By tliis he meant a church in which 
 one person felt just as free to come in and unite in the 
 service as another. He imagined to himself all the 
 people who came into it on Sunday as coming into it as 
 a man goes upon Boston Common, with no thought that 
 one person or another possesses it, this side of the good 
 God. All His children have a right there. In a letter 
 written sixteen years after the church was founded, 
 when some difficulties of administration annoyed the 
 financial committee, Mr. Clarke said to them, "If it 
 should be thought best to dissolve the society, I. should 
 still feel that its past existence had not been useless. 
 If the experiment of a free church fails in our hands, it 
 may succeed with others." 
 
 With such hopes, which proved to have good founda- 
 tions, the church was gathered.^ The congregation soon 
 determined to hire Amory Hall for their regular Sun- 
 day service, and the first service there was held on 
 February 28, 18-41. This was a convenient and pretty 
 hall which had come into being to meet the demand for 
 lecture halls created by the " lyceum " system. It was 
 up two flights of stairs above the shops on the northern 
 
 1 The memoranda in Mr. Clarke's diary for 1841 relating to the 
 church are these : — 
 
 January 24. Preached at Waltham. 
 
 January 27. Engaged the Swedenborgian church. 
 
 January 28. Preached lecture for Gray. [This means the regular 
 " Thursday lecture," in which he took the turn of Rev. Frederick T. 
 Gray.] Anti-slavery meeting. 
 
 January 31. [Sunday.] Preached in the Swedenborgian chapel. 
 
 February 4. Preached for Waterston. [Rev. R, C. Waterston. This 
 was probably also the " Thursday lecture."] 
 
 February 7. Preached in the evening in Swedenborgian chapel. 
 [On this Sunday and the Sunday before he preached in the morning at 
 Waltham.] 
 
 Saturday evening, February 13. Preached in Phillips Place Chapel, 
 on '' The Church." 
 
 February 23. Decided on Amory Hall. 
 
 February 28. Preached for the first time in Amory Hall. 
 
 March 21. Introduced new order of services.
 
 150 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 corner of Washington and West streets. The Church 
 of the Disciples has since occupied larger and more con- 
 venient Sunday homes. But there are still living those 
 who look back with peculiar tenderness to Amory Hall, 
 and even to the long staircases, so distinct are their 
 memories of the light and life and cheerfulness of the 
 service which was rendered there. 
 
 From the 28th of February, 1841, to the 6th of July, 
 1849, Mr. Clarke was engaged in the regular duties of 
 the minister of the Church of the Disciples. Not long 
 after the church was established, one of its members, 
 George G. Channing, a brother of Dr. W. E. Channing, 
 formed the idea of publishing a weekly paper which 
 should present the religious views which were the life 
 of the church, and should also keep constantly before 
 the public the need of applying Christianity to the evils 
 of society. In Mr. Clarke's diary for December 5, 1842, 
 he speaks of writing the prospectus for this paper, and 
 while it continued to be published he contributed to 
 almost every number ; sometimes having several arti- 
 cles in one number. On the 20th of November, 1847, 
 he assumed full editorial care. It was, however, con- 
 tinued only one year longer, when it was merged in 
 the " Christian Register." The union shows that there 
 was no longer even a nominal difference between the 
 Church of the Disciples and the other churches. When, 
 in 1849, Dr. Bellows established the " Christian In- 
 quirer," in New York, he at once solicited and obtained 
 Mr. Clarke's cooperation in the conduct of that paper. 
 Mr. Clarke admitted, and the supporters of the paper 
 admitted, that there were truths as well as errors in 
 " Orthodoxy." The Church of the Disciples increased 
 in numbers. Its week-day meetings were recognized as 
 having an interest which does not attach to the func- 
 tional conferences of ecclesiastical bodies. They were 
 recognized among the living social forces of the com- 
 munity. His visiting list of an early part of the year
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 151 
 
 1843 gives the names of members of one hundred and 
 forty-four different families in the church. 
 
 The laws of elective affinities and natural selection 
 did their work in the building up of the church. Other 
 churches in Boston still represented, to a certain extent, 
 localities in the town. Thus the Second and North 
 Churches were largely churches of "North Enders." 
 The South Congregational, Pine Street, and Hollis 
 Street Churches were largely churches of " South End- 
 ers," and something of the sort might be said of every 
 church in Boston, if it were of a large communion. But 
 the Church of the Disciples did not represent one street 
 or one ward. It represented persons who had been 
 brought together by the simplicity, the boldness, and 
 the fervor of the religious doctrine proclaimed in that 
 pulpit and embodied in the constitution of the society. 
 Indeed, at one time so many of the more active members 
 of the church drove in from the suburban towns that it 
 was called in joke " The Church of the Carryalls." 
 
 Four years after the church was gathered, a few of its 
 most hearty members were greatly distressed by one of 
 Mr. Clarke's determinations, and felt compelled to with- 
 draw from the company of their friends. Theodore 
 Parker, at the ordination of Mr. Shackford, in South 
 Boston, had preached a sermon which might now be 
 called celebrated, if that word could apply to any ser- 
 mon, on " The Transient and Permanent in Christian- 
 ity." That sermon, indeed, marks the beginning of his 
 general reputation as preacher and reformer. The con- 
 servative Unitarians were distressed to the last degree 
 that an utterance so radical should be heard in one of 
 their pulpits. Fortunately for them, they had, as they 
 have, no machinery of whatever sort by which they 
 could drive Mr. Parker out of their ministry. He was 
 the minister of an independent Congregational church, 
 and as long as that church chose to retain him and he 
 chose to be retained, no power but death could remove
 
 152 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 him from his charge. But the Unitarian leaders of that 
 day in Boston tried the poor experiment of making liim 
 uncomfortable. They could decline to exchange pulpits 
 with him, for instance ; they could put him under the 
 same ban, such as it was, that " Orthodoxy " had put 
 them under, for the better part of a generation. Mr. 
 Clarke had no desire to join in any excommunication, 
 and on the 26th day of January, 1845, he exchanged 
 with Mr. Parker.^ It was on this occasion that, after 
 much sorrowful and friendly discussion, fifteen valued 
 members of the Church of the Disciples withdrew, and 
 with their friends founded another Unitarian church. 
 The transaction attracted attention even outside the 
 little fellowship of the Unitarian churches, and it had 
 its fair share in introducing Mr. Clarke to that wide 
 acquaintance which to the end of his life he enjoyed 
 among the courageous men of all communions. 
 
 Many years after, in writing to a friend who had 
 asked him for the history of this event, he says at the 
 close of his letter : "■ I have given you this account be- 
 cause you asked for it, not because I care to recall these 
 scenes. I am happy to say that those who left our 
 church, and those who remained, being equally con- 
 vinced of the entire conscientiousness of the opposite 
 party, never departed from friendly relations with each 
 other. We remained friends after the separation, as 
 we were before." We would add that these seceders 
 from the Church of the Disciples were so certain of 
 Mr. Clarke's continued interest in their welfare, that 
 some of them came to consult him about the neces- 
 sary arrangements for their new church. 
 
 There was always an effort on the part of Mr. Clarke, 
 
 ^ The entry in the diary is, " Black Sunday. T. Parker preached 
 morning and evening. I went to West Roxhury to preach." And the 
 next day's entry is, "January 27. Ministers' meeting at Bartol's. 
 Subject, expulsion of Theodore Parker." Of January 30, the memo- 
 randum is, "Attended Anti-Texas Convention."
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIFLES. 153 
 
 and of the members of the church, to show their readi- 
 ness to hold fellowship with churches outside the Uni- 
 tarian body. Eev. Edward N. Kirk, then the most 
 distinguished of the " Orthodox " ministers in Boston, 
 preached in the church, though he would not have re- 
 ceived Mr, Clarke into his pulpit. And more than once 
 Mr. Clarke baptized persons by immersion, when their 
 conscientious scruples required such a service. 
 
 The members who withdrew from the church did so 
 on the 15th of February, 1845, and it is interesting to 
 observe that at the next annual meeting of the Uni- 
 tarian Association, Mr. Clarke was chosen one of the 
 directors of that body. The Unitarian Association is 
 the Home and Foreign Missionary Board of the whole 
 Unitarian body. For the Unitarian communion, this 
 choice of Mr. Clarke was most fortunate. By his resi- 
 dence in the West he had become well acquainted with, 
 their best missionary ground, and the largeness of his 
 view and the courage of his convictions were such as to 
 lead him always to a vigorous policy. We shall see 
 that at a later time he became the active executive of 
 the Association. 
 
 He had beefi chosen chaplain of the Senate of INIas- 
 sachusetts in 1844. This choice may probably be re- 
 ferred to the recognition, at so early a period, of his 
 advanced anti-slavery views. 
 
 Another chapter of this book is devoted to his ener- 
 getic work in the anti-slavery cause. This was work in 
 which he had the sympathy of the larger part of his 
 church. It seems more convenient to place in that 
 chapter such references as we can make to it. The 
 reader must remember that the great battle had now 
 fairly begun. The annexation of Texas was first hinted 
 at, then timidly suggested, then assumed as the policy 
 of the Democratic party, in the face, all along, of the 
 anti-slavery feelings of the Northern States. It proved 
 impossible to carry a treaty of annexation through the
 
 154 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Senate of the United States ; and instead of this, joint 
 resolutions for tluit purpose were driven through both 
 houses of Congress, the necessary votes for this, at the 
 last struggle, being bought by the persons interested in 
 Texan bonds. ^ This Texan question gave a well-defined 
 issue, which filled a much larger space in the public 
 eye than the question of the emancipation of slaves in 
 the District of Columbia, with which the Abolitionists 
 had been obliged to satisfy themselves before. 
 
 Mr. Clarke had learned his anti-slavery lesson at 
 Louisville, as the reader has seen. He intimates that 
 it was easier to take advanced anti-slavery views in 
 Louisville than in the Boston of those days.^ Boston 
 could say, in a sense in which Louisville could not say 
 it, that slavery was none of her business. In point of 
 fact, the Boston manufacturers who used Southern cot- 
 ton, and the Boston merchants who directed the coast- 
 ing trade with the South, did not want to irritate their 
 Southern correspondents. In political combinations, 
 also, the Whig party of that day was still posing as 
 a national party. Its leaders were very eager to keep 
 in alliance the one or two Southern States which still 
 voted with them. Such eagerness gave great coldness 
 to their anti-slavery expressions. 
 
 Mr.. Clarke, and all the active members of the Church 
 of the Disciples, entered joyfully and fearlessly into 
 the discussion in every arena of the great national 
 question thus involved. 
 
 In 1847 he completed what was a labor of love for 
 
 ^ The joint resolution for this purpose passed the United States 
 Senate, March .3, 1845. 
 
 ^ Mr. Clarke refers the change of opinion in Kentucky to the effect 
 wroug-ht by the growth of cotton. " I was at Henry Clay's home at 
 Ashland about the year 1837. He had been over his estate on horse- 
 back, and returned tired, and lay down on the sofa, and talked to me 
 about slavery. He said he had hoped to see the end of it, at least in 
 Kentucky, but cotton had become so profitable that the Southern 
 States would not give it up."
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 155 
 
 liim, the history of his grandfather Hull's connection 
 with the campaign of 1812. Since the publication of 
 that book, it may be safely said that General Hull's 
 character has been wholly redeemed from the infamous 
 charges made upon him by the politicians in the neces- 
 sities of partisan warfare. 
 
 The reader may now turn to a few passages from 
 his letters of these eight years, which will, I think, 
 require no farther illustration. 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 Meadville, January 7, 1841. 
 
 ... I agree with those who think it a good time to 
 form a new congregation in Boston. If a dozen men 
 can be found, to hire a hall for three months, I will give 
 my services for that time without compensation. 
 
 My object would be, not to form a congregation of 
 Unitarians, but a church of Christ. The church — 
 church union, church action, church edification — would 
 be the main thing. Churches have usually been built 
 on coincidence of opinion ; those who thought alike 
 on doctrinal Christianity have united together. This 
 church should be built on coincidence of practical pur- 
 pose. Those who intend to do the same things would 
 unite in it. Our desire would be to help each other to 
 deep and distinct convictions of truth by preaching, 
 Bible classes, conversational meetings, Sunday-schools, 
 etc. ; to warm each other's hearts, and fill them with 
 love by social religious meetings, prayer meetings, and 
 the Lord's Supper ; and finally, to help one another to 
 habits of active goodness, for which purpose we would 
 agree, as a church, to devote thought, time, and money 
 to the relief of the poor, to doing away with social 
 abuses, to spreading around us the light and joy of re- 
 ligion. We may have committees on temperance, pris- 
 ons, the poor, the slaves, etc., which from time to time 
 shall report to the whole church. Believing that Jesus
 
 156 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 intended to found such a church as this, we take him 
 for our Head ; he is our Master, Teacher, and Saviour ; 
 our Prophet, Priest, and King. All who join the 
 church express this faith in Jesus. Those who unite 
 with us join with the purpose and pledge of aiding in 
 the work which the church does ; and they dedicate 
 themselves, with all the faculties of mind and body, to 
 the service of Jesus Christ. . . . This is no new idea 
 with me. I have been studying and preparing for it 
 for years, and have full faith that it can be effected. 
 
 TO A. H. c. 
 
 Boston, January 27, 1841. 
 
 I spend my time mainly in seeing those persons with 
 whom I can talk of the expediency of establishing a 
 new society in Boston. The following persons approve 
 my plan, and say, " Xow is the accepted time : " Dr. 
 W. E. Channing, Mr. Bartol, Mr. Samuel Barrett, Mr. 
 S. J. May, Father Taylor, Mr. Briggs, Mr. Waterston, 
 Mr. Sargent, ]\Ir. Eipley, and others among the clergy ; 
 among the laity many energetic persons. Father Taylor 
 said now was the time when great good could be done 
 by the right man. He said he wished me to try what I 
 could do, and promised me his hearty aid. 
 
 Finally, I have taken the decisive step of hiring the 
 Swedeuborgian chapel for Sunday evening next, myself, 
 and advertising a meeting then and there. For I find, 
 as Goethe says, that 
 
 " After much consultation and longest deliberation, 
 The final decision at last must still be the work of a moment" 
 
 If I waited for others to move I might wait till 
 spring, there are so many secondary considerations to 
 be dealt with. I have decided that, first, a society is 
 needed here on a somewhat different basis from the old 
 ones ; second, that no better man is likely to undertake 
 it than I ; third, that there is no better time than the
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 157 
 
 present moment. Therefore, trusting in the help of 
 God, I am about to begin. Next Sunday night I shall 
 preach a discourse on the essentials of Christianity, or 
 *' What shall I do to be saved ? " The second Sunday 
 night I shall preach on " Justification by faith." The 
 third on " The Church, as it was at first, as it ought to 
 be now, as it cati be now." After this I shall find a 
 place to preach in both morning and night, and shall 
 begin a series of sermons to show what I consider to be 
 important and true in all the usual doctrines of Ortho- 
 doxy and Unitarianism. May God make me an instru- 
 ment of good in this work, for surely much is needed. 
 
 Of the first service he writes : — 
 
 February 1, 1841. 
 
 I found my hall full, though Dr. Channing preached 
 that evening in Warren Street Chapel to an overflowing 
 audience, and Mr. Briggs, of Plymouth, at Waterston's 
 church to a large congregation. Mr. Gannett and Dr. 
 Parkman were present. There was nothing new or 
 striking in what I said, but only the simple and plain 
 truth of the matter as I understood it. . . . To-day I 
 spent two hours with Dr. Channing, talking about my 
 plan of operations. He is very much interested in it, 
 and made many suggestions of value. 
 
 In the same letter he says, " I went at night to a 
 meeting at Judge Rogers' to talk about the project of 
 a new church. A minister present expressed fears lest 
 individuals should be drawn away from the existing 
 churches, and lest the Sunday evening lectures should 
 seem to compete with another series then being deliv- 
 ered. But if I were to be turned aside from my course 
 by such minute considerations as these I should never 
 be able to take a single step. I cannot let the minutiae 
 of proprieties stop my work, which seems to me a most 
 important one. I never felt so deeply the tremendous
 
 158 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 nature of what I was undertaking as on Sunday night 
 last." 
 
 Of the second discourse, on " Justification by Faith," 
 he says, " The chapel was full, though there were four 
 other Unitarian services the same evening." 
 
 February 11, 1841. 
 
 I am to preach my third sermon on " The Church," 
 on Saturday night, in the Phillips Chapel. My object is 
 to show that the church is not a place to put pious and 
 holy people into, and keep them safe, but a place to put 
 hungry sinners into, feed them with living bread, and 
 make them pious and good. 
 
 February 18, 1841. 
 
 I had a meeting last evening to take measures toward 
 the organization of a new society. ... It had been 
 snowing, and the walking was bad, yet there were forty 
 or fifty persons there, men and women. I stated to 
 them the objects and principles of the church, and 
 ended by making a distinct proposal, namely, that I 
 would preach for several months on two conditions : 
 First. That a hall, with lights, should be provided for 
 me to preach in. Second. That it should be under- 
 stood at the outset that when a church is established 
 the three following principles shall be embodied in it : 
 
 1. The social principle. 
 
 2. The voluntary principle. 
 
 3. Congregational worship. 
 
 By the social principle I mean frequent meetings for 
 conversation, etc. [on religious subjects]. 
 
 By the voluntary principle I mean no pews sold, 
 rented, or taxed, but worship supported by voluntary 
 subscriptions. 
 
 By congregational worship I mean that to some ex- 
 tent the congregation should join in the hymns and 
 prayers. . . . 
 
 A committee was chosen at once to provide the hall,
 
 THE CHUBCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 159 
 
 and it was thought that we were beginning under favor- 
 able auspices. We shall probably hold the first of our 
 regular services on the Sunday after next. 
 
 Monday, February 22, 1841. 
 ... I spent a good part of Friday in trying to find 
 a hall for our services. It is difficult to obtain one suit- 
 able in every respect. Five or six religious societies 
 occupy the best ones now. ... I called on Mr. Gannett, 
 and offered to preach for him on Sunday. I thought he 
 needed the help more than any one else, as he is giv- 
 ing a course of Sunday ev^ening lectures. . . . Accord- 
 ingly I preached for him, both morning and afternoon, 
 and in the evening went to a crowded temperance meet- 
 ing at Water ston's, where I spoke. 
 
 I delivered the Thursday lecture, and gave my dis- 
 course on " Justification by Faith." 
 
 He preached for the first time in Aniory Hall, Sun- 
 day, February 28. " In the morning every seat was 
 full, and many were obliged to go away. At night it 
 was nearly full. It seats about 275 persons." He men- 
 tions individuals who were present, among others Dr. 
 and Mrs. William Ellery Channing. 
 
 April!, lS4i. 
 
 On Sunday I preached in our new hall, which is 
 somewhat larger and better than the other, and better 
 ventilated. It was well filled. . . . 
 
 On Monday afternoon I met my Bible-class, and had 
 an interesting talk for two hours, in the course of which 
 we ran into metaphysics. There were twenty-five or 
 thirty present. At night I went to a meeting for reli- 
 gious conversation at Mr. George Channing's. . . . 
 
 I came near being knocked down yesterday by a 
 drunken truckman for interfering to protect his horse, 
 which he was beating with a club. I immediately went
 
 160 DIAEY AND COEEESPONDENCE. 
 
 to the police court for a constable to have him arrested, 
 but could not find the judge, I then met Edward Win- 
 slow, who undertook to see the owners of the truck, 
 and have the man properly rebuked. 
 
 April 10, 1841. 
 On Friday afternoon I saw Dr. Channing, and talked 
 with him about the organization of the church. I told 
 him the declaration of faith which I wished was " In 
 Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God." He preferred 
 " In Jesus as the divinely appointed teacher of truth," 
 or something equivalent, because the first was less in- 
 telligible. I contended, however, for the other, on the 
 ground that we wished to connect ourselves, not only 
 with one another, but with the whole church of Christ, 
 the only way of doing which was to adopt a universal 
 confession, and the only one which could be universal 
 was that on which Jesus built his church at the first. 
 Dr. Channing was, however, much pleased with our plan 
 of partaking of the communion by ourselves, socially, 
 meeting for this purpose alone. This he thought 
 would make it more real and heart-felt. 
 
 April 15, 1841. 
 On Tuesday evening we had a meeting of our church 
 to discuss its organization. The snow was deep on the 
 sidewalks, and only three or four women and about 
 twenty men came. But it was a delightful meeting, be- 
 cause there was evidently, with great variety and free- 
 dom of opinion on each point discussed, but one heart, 
 one mind. I never knew anything like it. There were 
 three points on which we took votes, points concern- 
 ing which the opinions were quite various, yet each 
 of these votes was unanimous, and all voted. The 
 first question was whether the time had come to begin 
 an organization. Several present were not ready yet 
 to unite themselves, and opposed it ; yet at last, after
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 161 
 
 hearing the arguments, were convinced that it would be 
 better for the church to have a nucleus formed, and 
 voted with the rest in the affirmative. The other two 
 points related to the declaration which is to be the 
 groundwork and basis of union. It is this, as we de- 
 cided by two unanimous votes : — 
 
 " We, whose names are subscribed, unite together in 
 the following faith and purpose : — 
 
 "Our faith is in Jesus, as the Christ, the Son of 
 God. 
 
 *' And we do hereby form ourselves into a Church of 
 his Disciples, that we may cooperate together in the 
 study and practice of Christianity." 
 
 We determined to have no other organization but 
 this, not to organize at all as a religious society upon 
 the money basis. 
 
 April 16, 1841. 
 
 Our church was crowded last night. I went up to 
 Dr. Channing's afterward, to bid them good-by. They 
 go to Philadelphia to-morrow, then to Newport. Dr. 
 Channing gave me his parting advice and counsel. He 
 said the danger would be, a tendency to conform to 
 the old, established ways, as the mass exerted a great 
 power of attraction. He said again, emphatically, that 
 we must be more afraid of formality than of eccentri- 
 city. 
 
 BosTOK, Friday, April 30, 1841. 
 
 . . . We had a meeting Tuesday night, and organized 
 our church, forty-eight names being subscribed to our 
 declaration. 
 
 Newton, May 11, 1841. 
 
 On Sunday the hall was quite full in the morning, 
 and overflowing at night. Ephraim Peabody, Mr. Gan- 
 nett, Mr. Farley of Providence, Mr. Thompson of 
 Salem, Dr. Parkman, and one or two more ministers 
 were present at the evening service. In the afternoon, 
 Barnard being sick, I conducted services at the Warren
 
 1G2 DIAliY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Street Chapel, and preached a short extempore sermon. 
 I carried Conant, the Illinois farmer student, with me, 
 and made him preach a short discourse before mine. 
 He did it very well.^ 
 
 I went to Newton Sunday night after preaching, and 
 came to Boston again Monday afternoon to my Bible- 
 class. There was a storm of rain, but eight or ten 
 were present. We had our social meeting at night at 
 Dr. Osgood's. There were about fifty present, men and 
 women. The subject was " Lay Preaching." The con- 
 servative and radical elements came into warm conflict, 
 but the most perfect good feeling reigned. However 
 much we may differ in opinion, we always agree as to 
 what we shall do. We agreed that it would be well 
 not to have any lay preaching on Sundays, except when 
 the regular preacher was unable to attend, and no other 
 minister could be procured. 
 
 ^ Rev. A. H. Conant is remembered and loved in the Unitarian 
 Church at the West as a saint and an apostle. The story of his in- 
 troduction to that church is interesting. 
 
 Early in life he was a farmer in Illinois. Coming one day to the 
 store of the Clarke Brothers in Chicago to make some purchases, he 
 saw there a copy of the Western Messenger^ and opening it began to 
 read. Mr. A. F. Clarke, seeing his interest in the magazine, placed a 
 chair for him, and into this Mr. Conant dropped, and went on read- 
 ing. When he left, Mr. Clarke gave him some numbers of the maga- 
 zine to take home with him. In reading these he was moved to con- 
 secrate his life to the work of the ministry. He studied at the 
 Cambridge Divinity School, under Henry Ware, Jr., and afterwards 
 was settled in Illinois, his influence extending through all the region 
 about him. As a chaplain during the war he was unfailing in his de- 
 votion to the soldiers, whether in camp, in hospital, or on the battle- 
 field. At his death a soldier in the ranks wrote : "The brave and 
 noble chaplain, who never turned aside for bullet or shell, but where 
 balls flew thick and fast sought out the wounded and .administered 
 to their wants, is dead. Never while I live can I forget him as I saw 
 him on the field, with his red flag suspended on a ramrod, marching 
 fearlessly to the relief of the sufl'ering ; appearing to the wounded 
 like a ministering angel. When we said, ' Chaplain, you must rest or 
 you will die,' he always replied, ' I cannot rest, boys, while you suf- 
 fer ; if I die, I will die helping you.' " 
 
 And die at his post he did, in February, 18fi.3.
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 163 
 
 I found Mr. Gannett's card on my table yesterday, 
 so to-day I called to see him. He shoAved me a letter 
 in the " New York Observer," in which they speak of 
 my church being Orthodox in its character. Mean- 
 time, others call us the transcendental church. Mr. 
 Gannett was very cordial, and assured me that the 
 ministers were disposed to sympathize with me. 
 
 The journals of these years are filled with the record 
 of thoughts, of studies, of work ; of talks with brother 
 ministers on topics relating to the church, with public 
 men about the state of the country, with his own people 
 on questions of faith and practice. There are copious 
 notes of lectures which he heard from Professor Agassiz 
 and others ; notes of his reading, of books planned ; 
 here and there a short poem, or a translation of one. 
 
 He was much interested in the condition of prison- 
 ers, and in his journal considers what methods are most 
 likely to influence them for good. Later in life he took 
 an active part in this work. 
 
 He was a constant contributor to the " Christian 
 World," one of whose expressed objects was "to awaken 
 an interest in all the great philanthropic enterprises of 
 the day, by giving constant information on all that is 
 doing in the cause of temperance, peace, freedom, Sun- 
 day-schools, moral and social reform, and on questions 
 of politics having a moral bearing." 
 
 He took an active interest in the Free-Soil move- 
 ment, and several times spoke at public meetings held 
 by members of the Free-Soil party. 
 
 When the Boston Association of Ministers met at his 
 house in 1844, the question he proposed for considera- 
 tion was, " What should be the specific object of preach- 
 ing ? " he himself taking the ground that, without a 
 definite plan, the preacher would be as one who beats 
 the air. When the same association met at his house 
 in 1847, the subject he proposed was, " The Aim of
 
 164 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Life." He adds iu his diary, "The discussion was 
 serious and interesting." 
 
 Frequent reference is made in the Autobiography to 
 the '• social meetings " of the Church of the Disciples. 
 A list of topics for conversation at these meetings dur- 
 ing the winter of 1845-46 is here given : — 
 
 1. What is the true Christian doctrine of regenera- 
 tion ? 
 
 2. " There is no instinctive, intuitive, or direct know- 
 ledge of the truths of religion, either of the being of 
 God or of our own immortality." — Andrews Norton. 
 
 3. What is the inspiration of the New Testament ? 
 
 4. Is sin a negative or a positive evil ? 
 
 5. " Be ye perfect, as your Father in Heaven is per- 
 fect." Is this to be understood and obeyed in a literal 
 or a limited sense ? 
 
 6. What is the New Testament doctrine of the hid- 
 den life ? 
 
 7. Shall we maintain and urge our opinions always, 
 or sometimes concede for the sake of union ? 
 
 8. Should the good withdraw from an evil commu- 
 nity, or separate themselves from an evil man ? 
 
 9. What is the sphere of woman, and how shall she 
 best be educated to fill it ? 
 
 10. What is the Christian idea of the future state, 
 and of the spiritual world ? 
 
 11. What is the doctrine of Scripture with regard to 
 eternal punishment, and what is the Christian view of 
 future retribution ? 
 
 12. What views do the Scriptures afford us of a 
 spiritual body ? 
 
 13. What are the principles and ideas peculiar to 
 Protestantism, as distinguished from those' peculiar to 
 the Church of Rome ? 
 
 14. What is needed by Unitarianism, at the present 
 time, to give it greater influence and success ? 
 
 The programme which has this list of topics adds : —
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 165 
 
 " The social meetings of the Church of the Disciples 
 are held once a fortnight, on Wednesday evening, at 
 the houses of the brethren. On the alternate Wednes- 
 day, there is a prayer-meeting of the church, at Ritchie 
 Hall. Both meetings begin at seven and close at nine 
 o'clock. 
 
 "The subjects will be discussed at the social meetings 
 in the order in which they are printed. The church 
 may, however, substitute by its vote any subject not 
 on the above list which it may think it desirable to 
 
 consider." 
 
 TO s. s. c. 
 
 December 13, 1846. 
 
 Church matters have begun again this winter in a 
 good spirit ; our social and prayer meetings have been 
 good, and our church has been well filled on Sunday. 
 There is some talk of building. I hope we may suc- 
 ceed this time. 
 
 At home we are all happy and well. Our house is 
 gradually assuming a comfortable, domestic look. The 
 children's portrait (by Cheney) is done, framed, and 
 hanging in the front parlor over the fireplace. Herman 
 and Lilla go to school every day, and are making rapid 
 strides in all the branches of a liberal education. They 
 can repeat the multiplication table as far as 3 X ''' = 21 • 
 Lilla can spell words of four letters, Herman a little 
 more. He has also begun to draw on the slate, and 
 makes very respectable houses, the walls of which are 
 often not farther out of the perpendicular than those of 
 the tower of Pisa. . . . 
 
 Anna and I have been to some geological lectures, 
 and been much edified in relation to animals of the 
 Palaeozoic times. Now we are hearing Agassiz, who 
 lectures on the unity of plan in creation. These lec- 
 tures are very interesting and curious. 
 
 I went to New Bedford last week to lecture on Joan 
 of Arc, — a heroine whom I much approve for her
 
 166 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 heroic courage, her wonderful faith, and her gentle 
 womanhood. I intend to give a series of biographical 
 discourses in our church in the evening, on Sundays ; 
 on which occasions I shall speak of such persons as 
 Joan of Arc, Martin Luther, John Milton, Fox and the 
 Quakers, Wesley and the Methodists, Cardinal Borro- 
 meo, Blanco White, etc. 
 
 Our Bible-classes have been interesting. At the last 
 two meetings we have spoken of the sin against the 
 Holy Ghost. 
 
 This summer, after we came from Meadville, and 
 after I had delivered my poem before the $. B. K. So- 
 ciety (which most of the papers said was not artistic), 
 we went to the seashore at Beverly and Rockport, and 
 had a very pleasant time. We took long walks in the 
 woods, and sat on the rocks looking at the waves, or 
 spent mornings in bathing among the rocks. All was 
 very beautiful. 
 
 TO s. s. c. 
 
 October 4, 1847. 
 
 ... On Saturday Anna and I walked six miles ; and 
 a day or two before that we rowed in a boat from Bille- 
 rica, where we are now staying, to Concord, a distance 
 of ten miles and ten back. It was a lovely day, and 
 the woods on either bank were changing to beautiful 
 tints of yellow and crimson ; the air was soft and warm, 
 but elastic and strengthening. The river winds gently 
 among fields and woods ; tall elms and maples shade its 
 banks. At Concord we landed at the foot of Mr. Rip- 
 ley's garden, — the Old Manse, you know, from which 
 Hawthorne gathered his mosses. 
 
 Our church building is going up rapidly, and we shall 
 soon be in it. It will be a pretty building, I think, 
 and will suit us very well. We shall have a famous 
 large vestry below, for a Sunday-school and conference 
 room.^ 
 
 ^ This was the Freeman Place Chapel.
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. lt)7 
 
 The new chapel, in Freeman Place, was dedicated 
 March 15, 1848. From Mr. Clarke's sermon at the 
 dedication we give a few sentences : — 
 
 . . . We united together seven years ago and estab- 
 lished this Church of Disciples. We took that name in 
 sincere humility. We wished to be scholars, learners, 
 sitting at the feet of Jesus. We wished to unite to- 
 gether, to cooperate, to help each other onward and up- 
 ward. Our creed was faith in Christ, and we included 
 in our body many varieties and even extremes of opin- 
 ion. Your minister was one of yourselves ; he assumed 
 no official authority, he wished that all the brethren 
 should occupy the pulpit ; he wishes and hopes for it 
 still. A band of brothers and friends, we sought for a 
 deeper religious life, for a larger view of truth, for a 
 better habit of active goodness. . . . 
 
 We enter to-day into this new house, which is to be 
 our home. . . . We wish and intend that these doors 
 shall be always open to welcome the stranger, the feeble, 
 the wretched. We wish and intend that here the rich 
 and the poor may sit together ; that the fugitive slave 
 and the penitent prodigal may feel themselves welcome, 
 as they always have been. 
 
 After the mention of the dedication in his diary the 
 next entry there is, — 
 
 I intend to have a series of lectures on reforms de- 
 livered on Sunday evenings, in our church : — 
 
 1. Reforms : Their relation to the Church, to the 
 Age ; by J. F. Clarke. 2. The Temperance Reform : 
 Its history, idea, present state. What is wanted now. 
 What ought the Church to do ? by E. H. Chapin, or 
 John Pierpont. 3. The Peace Movement ; by Theodore 
 Parker, or S. J. May. 4. The Anti-Slavery Movement ; 
 by Wendell Phillips. 5. Reforms in prisons, poor-
 
 168 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 houses, hospitals, insane asylums, etc. ; by Dr. S. G. 
 Howe, or J. A. Andrew. 6. Social Reform ; by W. H, 
 Channing. 7. Educational Eeform ; by Horace Mann. 
 
 FROM HIS DIARY. 
 
 1848. April 12. There are four elements which ought 
 to exist in a church, and which never have existed to- 
 gether in any Christian church since the first century, 
 namely : — 
 
 1. A deep spirit of individual, inward religion. 
 
 2. An entire intellectual freedom of thought and ex- 
 pression. 
 
 3. A union of hands and hearts. Real brotherhood. 
 
 4. A practical direction of effort to elevate and purify 
 mankind. 
 
 Separately we find these elements often, but we never 
 find them all combined in any association. . . . 
 
 Is the difficulty in the existing forms of church or- 
 ganization ? In a paid and professional minister ? 
 
 FROM HIS DIARY. 
 
 1848. July. I know nothing which I can do which 
 would be more useful than to write a little book on The 
 Positive Doctrines of Christianity. In this I would at- 
 tempt to give the positive contents of the gospel as dis- 
 tinguished from speculative and verbal controversies. 
 . . . Some of the chapters would be on : — 
 
 1. The Positive Doctrines of Christianity concerning 
 God. 
 
 2. The Positive Doctrines of Christianity concerning 
 Man. 
 
 3. The Positive Doctrines of Christianity concerning 
 Christ. 
 
 4. Concerning Regeneration, or the Christian Change, 
 
 5. Concerning the Future Life. 
 
 Positive doctrines are also practical in the highest 
 sense.
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 1G9 
 
 TO H. W. BELLOWS. 
 
 Boston, February 27, 1849. 
 
 I have just read your kind and interesting letter of 
 last week. I thauk you for your sympathy in our trial. 
 It was very sudden. The little path our boy dug 
 through the snow a fortnight ago has not yet melted 
 away, and he has been lying ten days in his grave. 
 The day after you left Boston I went with Mrs. Clarke 
 to call on Mrs. Bellows (not knowing you were gone), 
 and we saw Herman standing at the head of Walnut 
 Street. He begged to go with us, and went to Mr. Bar- 
 tol's door, and said he would sit on the step till we 
 came out. That was the last time I walked with him. 
 . . . Your words show that we have been led along the 
 same path of discipline. . . . 
 
 I am extremely interested in your plans concerning 
 the "Inquirer." I see no reason why it should not 
 succeed. The plan of assistant editors is also good, 
 I should say. Dewey, if he will write, is of course 
 a great help. Osgood has indefatigable industry, and 
 also ready talents. There is Henry Hedge, of Bangor, 
 a man whose mind is full of matter and of the best 
 kind, rich in thought and experience. You must con- 
 sider that men who are to write every week will tire 
 the readers except they have an artistic style and can 
 charm by new forms of expression. But at all events, 
 secure, if you can, James H. Perkins, of Cincinnati, as a 
 contributor and correspondent. He is an admirable 
 writer of short pieces, — full of point, life, wit, beauty, 
 — and his ideas are very pure and noble. 
 
 But above all, remember not to forget George F, 
 Simmons, who is a purely religious man, with insight, 
 talent, knowledge, and a generous theology. Then 
 there is my Orthodox brother Lesley, of Milton, a good 
 writer, and liberal as you please. 
 
 I should be very glad to write for a paper such as I 
 believe yours will be.
 
 170 JJIARY ASl) CUHRESFOX DENCE. 
 
 H. W. BKLI.OWS TO J. F. C, 
 
 New York, March 21, 1849. 
 
 . . . We mean to issue the first number on the first 
 Saturday in April. . . . Can you suggest a good Scrip- 
 ture motto for the paper ? Is it worth while to add 
 any other and more descriptive epithet or clause to the 
 title ''The Christian Inquirer" ? I hope we are some- 
 thing more than inquirers. . . . 
 
 I am persuaded that what we want in our paper 
 mainly is a deeper, truer, more practical religious tone, 
 and I hope you will furnish some articles Avhich have 
 expressly for their aim to kindle religious life in indi- 
 vidual hearts. ... It is our showy, noisy, superficial 
 goodness that lets the world stay unconverted.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 EUROPE. 
 
 After more than eight years of vigorous work Mr. 
 Clarke, by the kind arrangement of members of his so- 
 ciety, passed a summer in Europe, sailing from Boston 
 in the " Plymouth Rock," July 6, 1849. 
 
 Eleven weeks were sj^ent in Europe, to his great de- 
 light, and the account which he printed afterwards 
 shows his activity during these weeks. Like most 
 American optimists of the day, he believed that uni- 
 versal peace was nearer than it has proved,^ and he 
 had been named, with his own permission, a delegate 
 to the Peace Congress to be held at Paris. I sup- 
 pose, however, that he was named a delegate because 
 he was going to Europe, not that he went to Europe 
 because he was a delegate. Napoleon III., with grim 
 sarcasm, welcomed the convention, gave it a hall, and 
 appointed sentries to pace in front and keep it from 
 disturbance. 
 
 " I had made up my mind," Mr. Clarke says, " that 
 what I wished to see in Europe was, in the first place, 
 the Alps ; secondly, fine paintings and picture galleries ; 
 and, in the third place, the old cathedrals." And his 
 
 ^ " We stand on the threshold of a new age, which is preparing to 
 recognize new influences. The ancient divinities of Violence and 
 Wrong are retreating to their kindred darkness. The sun of our 
 moral universe is entering a new ecliptic, no longer deformed by those 
 images of animal rage, Cancer, Taurus, Leo, Sagittarius, but beaming 
 with the mild radiance of those heavenly signs, Faith, Hope, and 
 Charity." — Charles Sumner, in 1846. Mr. Sumner lived to put on 
 his zodiac Preston Brooks and the heroes of the Civil War.
 
 172 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 rules for persons like himself, who "have a taste for 
 art, but no pretense to knowledge," are characteristic : 
 " First : Have faith. Believe that what the testimony 
 of mankind through many centuries declares to be 
 great is really great, though you cannot at first dis- 
 cover its grandeur or beauty. Second : Try, not to see 
 many things, but to see a few things well. Third: One 
 gains much insight into the peculiar genius of the great 
 artists by comparing their styles." 
 
 But while he says he has no technical knowledge, it 
 is clear, from his quite full criticisms of pictures, that 
 he carried out his third rule steadfastly. He drew well 
 enough to know what bad drawing was, and he was so 
 much in the company of artists that it was impossible 
 for him to look at a picture without thought of the 
 technical principles involved. 
 
 His account of the Peace Congress, written, I sup- 
 pose, as a letter to the Church of the Disciples, is to be 
 remembered as showing how far there was any hope for 
 universal peace, and how practical was his own notion 
 of such an accord of Europe as might, in practice, lead 
 to disarmament. There was a large attendance of dele- 
 gates, four or five hundred coming from England. The 
 committee of arrangements had provided that Victor 
 Hugo should preside, and had made the Abbe Deguerry, 
 Cure of the Madeleine, and Athanase Coquerel, the 
 head of the French Unitarians, Vice-Presidents. Mr. 
 Cobden spoke, Emile de Girardin, Araasa Walker, Elihu 
 Burritt, and William W. Brown, a refugee slave. 
 
 " On the whole," Mr. Clarke says, " the Peace Con- 
 gress probably did just as much good as any man could 
 reasonably expect. The effect of these meetings is 
 often exaggerated. To bring together those who hold 
 certain opinions, by means of a convention, does not 
 necessarily increase the number holding such views." 
 It is a pity that these last words could not be written 
 in letters of gold in all public halls. " Indeed, if vio-
 
 EUROPE. 173 
 
 lent, weak, or extreme opinions are expressed, the con- 
 vention may injure the cause instead of helping it. 
 The members, however, are seldom aware of this ; they 
 enjoy each other's sympathy, and mistake the sentiment 
 of the meetings for j)ublic opinion." 
 
 " The real good done by the Peace Congress was to 
 call men's attention to the subject." 
 
 He does not allude, in his book, to the incident of 
 Salisbury spire, of which the narrative, in later life, 
 terrified his friends. The spire of Salisbury Cathedral 
 is a little more than four hundred feet high. With 
 some friends, Mr. Clarke ascended as far as the inte- 
 rior staircase goes, to what is called the weather-door, 
 about thirty feet from the extreme top of the spire. 
 The others were then satisfied with what they had 
 done ; but he went out and climbed up the remaining 
 part of the spire, by iron handles fixed in the walls, 
 these having been arranged for the convenience of 
 workmen who have to attend to the vane, and of hardy 
 visitors. When he arrived at the highest of these, he 
 found a bar above him, running round the spire, which he 
 could reach with his hands. By this he lifted himself 
 to the level of the ball, and, as most versions of this 
 anecdote say, stood on top of the ball, with such sup- 
 port as the lightning rod could give him, surveying the 
 scene. He then returned to the supporting rod, and 
 dropped himself, expecting to find the friendly bolt by 
 which he had ascended. But it was not there, and he 
 reflected, too late, that he had not observed on which 
 side of the spire it was. Then and there he had, so to 
 speak, to work around the spire hanging by his hands ; 
 and having unfortunately chosen the least favorable di- 
 rection, he nearly completed its circuit before he found 
 under his foot the bolt which was to be the first step 
 in his retreat. 
 
 This story must be compared with the anecdote 
 of his standing on top of the spar erected on the
 
 174 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Delta, to show what a passion he had for these liigh 
 elevations.^ 
 
 In a letter written while on the voyage he gives a 
 pleasant description of life on board the sailing vessel. 
 After breakfast came a service in the cabin ; and then 
 the ministers, of whom there were a number on board, 
 sat round the table writing in their journals. , 
 
 In the course of the day they had gymnastic exercises 
 on deck, and in these Mr. Clarke was leader. Two 
 hours every evening were devoted to the discussion of 
 questions relating to peace and war. 
 
 One of Mr. Clarke's favorite seats in leisure hours 
 during the day was in the mizzen-top. Here he studied 
 his Ollendorff, and here he wrote the lines called 
 " White-capt Waves," in reading which we also seem 
 to see the ocean from the mizzen-top. 
 
 Wliite-capt waves far round the Ocean, 
 Leaping in thanks or leaping in play, 
 
 All your bright faces, in happy commotion, 
 Make glad matins this summer day. 
 
 The rosy light through the morning's portals 
 Tinges your crests with an August hue ; 
 
 Calling on us, thought-prisoned mortals, 
 Thus to live in the moment too. 
 
 For, graceful creatures, you live by dying, 
 Save your life when you fling it away, 
 
 Flow through all forms, all form defying. 
 And in wildest freedom strict rule obey. 
 
 1 I am quite aware that in the detail of this story there may be 
 some error, for I have heard it told in different ways. But the 
 substance of it, I am sure, is true, and I have verified it from the 
 facts as they are recorded, with regard to the arrangements of the top 
 of the spire about that time. When he told it at a meeting of the 
 Class of 1829, more than a gensration afterward, old friends of his 
 found they could not sleep that night in their terror for what might 
 have happened.
 
 EUROPE. 175 
 
 Show us your art, genial daughters 
 
 Of solemn Ocean, thus to combine 
 Freedom and force of rolling waters 
 
 With sharp observance of law divine. 
 
 A few short extracts from letters written home dur- 
 ing his European journey will show how fresh and gen- 
 uine was his enjoyment of the new scenes which met 
 his eye from day to day. 
 
 TO A. H. c. 
 
 Ambleside, August 1, 1849. 
 I have done much since I arrived on Thursday last 
 at Liverpool. On Friday I went to Chester, and saw 
 the old town and cathedral. Saturday, saw Eaton 
 Hall and park. Sunday, preached in Liverpool three 
 times. Monday, went by steamer to Bangor and Caer- 
 narvon, sailing under the Menai Bridge. Tuesday, rode 
 forty miles through the fine scenery of North Wales, 
 and spent two hours in Conway Castle, then back to 
 Liverpool. Wednesday, to the lakes. Friday, Warwick 
 and Kenilworth. I am glad that I am to stay in Lon- 
 don a week, for I am tired of running about the king- 
 dom in such a hurry, and I wish to sit still and look at 
 
 pictures. . . . 
 
 London, August 10. 
 
 . . . Sunday morning I heard Dr. Hutton preach. In 
 the afternoon I went to the service in Westminster 
 Abbey. It is a glorious place. I sat listening to the 
 chants, but looking up along the endless lines of col- 
 umns and arches, up, up, to the lofty vaults above, and 
 saw the immensity of the structure, and felt that man 
 cannot live by bread alone. The unnecessary amount 
 of space and building makes it seem like the exuber- 
 ance of nature, who never counts her leaves and flow- 
 ers.
 
 176 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Salisbury, August 15. 
 
 To-day I have been to Stonehenge, riding over Salis- 
 bury Plain, a broad, open, rolling piece of country, as 
 much like a Northern Illinois prairie as can be, except 
 that it is poor land and no grouse, all chalk under a 
 thin surface of soil. But Stonehenge was fine. The 
 air blew cool around us as we sat among these old relics 
 of ancient days. They seemed to talk of the twenty 
 centuries which had drifted by ; but just then I looked 
 up, and saw a little sparrow chirping on the top of one 
 of the impostal stones, — the gay child of nature, born 
 yesterday, making merry over these solemn ages. . . . 
 Then we saw the wondrous beauty of Salisbury min- 
 ster. I went to the very top and stood by the vane, 
 four hundred feet above the ground. It is a noble 
 building. We saw it in the soft light of a warm Au- 
 gust afternoon, and it will linger in my mind as a vision 
 of pure beauty. 
 
 Pakis, August 22. 
 
 To-day our Peace Congress met. There were about 
 a thousand delegates, of whom six hundred came from 
 England, Scotland, and Ireland. There were, besides, 
 a thousand spectators. Victor Hugo, the poet and 
 novelist, presided, and made a noble speech. Cobden, 
 Coquerel, and others spoke. 
 
 August 28. 
 
 The Prench Government has been exceedingly civil 
 to the Congress. It allowed the members to come and 
 go without passports or custom-house examination. The 
 minister of public works ordered that all the public 
 buildings should be shown us on the presentation of 
 our Peace Congress ticket. . . . 
 
 At the Palais du Luxembourg I saw the Senate Cham- 
 ber, where Napoleon's Senators met, and the Chamber 
 of Peers. Round the last were busts of Massena, Auge- 
 reau, etc. The guide, an officer, said, '' See the men 
 against whom you are working." I replied, "Not against
 
 EUROPE. 177 
 
 the men, but against the system ; we admire courage." 
 He said, " Vous aimez le courage, pas le carnage." 
 
 Zurich, September 2. 
 
 I too am in Switzerland ! I have had my first dis- 
 tant view of the high Alps. I am trying hard to real- 
 ize it all. . . . From Paris we came by rail the first 
 fifty miles, but in our diligence, which was hoisted by a 
 machine on the rail-car, and hoisted off again and re- 
 placed on its wheels when we arrived. . . . 
 
 At Strasbourg I went to the minster, and mounted to 
 the top of the spire, the highest in Europe, 474 feet. 
 . . . Leaving Strasbourg, we crossed the Rhine and en- 
 tered Germany. After a lovely ride we reached Frei- 
 burg at 9.30 p. M, Lovely in the moonlight rose the 
 Freiburg minster, more fair and graceful, I must needs 
 think, in its proportions than that of Strasbourg. . . . 
 
 After crossing the Rhine at Eglisau, we had our first 
 view of the high Alps. To the pleasure and amuse- 
 ment of the driver, we rose to our feet and gave three 
 cheers. There they lay, exquisitely delicate in outline, 
 their snowy summits glittering in the sunset. . . . 
 These were the eternal Alps, the inaccessible Alps, 
 seventy or eighty miles off. It was the group around 
 
 the Jungfrau. 
 
 September 5. 
 
 On Monday afternoon we ascended the Rhigi. "We 
 reached the top in time to see the sun set, only it 
 was enveloped in clouds. But we saw the Alps and 
 other high mountain ranges before it grew dark. Then 
 there came on a violent thunderstorm, and we had an 
 opportunity of testing the truth of Byron's description. 
 I went out into the darkness, rain, and wind to get a 
 sight of it, and from the summit saAV the forked light- 
 ning dart along, apparently on a level with myself, and 
 the two great lakes, Zug and Lucerne, come out like 
 two immense mirrors to reflect the light, and then dis-
 
 178 DIAEY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 appear again in the darkness. The next morning the 
 sun rose clear, and we saw all the immense panorama 
 of mountains, lakes, forests, and cultivated country- 
 come into view. The shadow of Rossberg lay purple 
 on the blue water of Zug, and the colossal shadow of 
 Ehigi stretched far away over Lucerne. It is impossi- 
 ble to suggest by any words the unimaginable beauty 
 of this view. . . . 
 
 After breakfast we descended by the footpath to Kuss- 
 nacht, where we took a boat to Lucerne. The sail on the 
 lake was exquisite. I sketched Mount Pilatus, whose 
 craggy tops, bare of all vegetation, pierced the morn- 
 ing sky like sharp spears. . . . We were about an hour 
 in Lucerne. Then at two, on this day of wonders, be- 
 gan our second sail, in the steamer, on this lake, which 
 Sir James Mackintosh pronounces the most beautiful in 
 the world. . . . We sailed round the foot of the Rhigi, 
 touched at the port of Schwytz, saw the bare rocky 
 Mitres, sailed up the extraordinary bay of Uri, where 
 mountains descend on all sides sheer into the water, so 
 that not even a footpath can be formed along the mar- 
 gin of the lake. We landed at Fluellen, drove eleven 
 miles to Amsteg, and after supper walked twelve more 
 to Wesen. This walk was a constant ascent on the St. 
 Gothard road, and between very lofty mountains. We 
 slept in a SavIss tavern, where we woke the people up 
 at eleven. . . . 
 
 Interlaken, September 9. 
 
 We have arrived here, having finished our walk round 
 the Jungfrau. In these six days we have walked, by 
 Murray, 130 English miles, by the guides 160. Besides 
 this we have crossed five mountain ridges, amounting in 
 all to about 17,000 feet of ascent and descent. 
 
 Chamounix, September 13, 1849. 
 It is strange how in this heart of Europe I am cut 
 off from all familiar thoughts and things. There seems
 
 EUROPE. 179 
 
 to be nothing near me but Nature. I am in her ele- 
 ment. Of the revolutions going on around me I hear 
 and know nothing. By accident I read in a little Savoy 
 newspaper that Venice has surrendered, that Hungary 
 is conquered. . . . Neither my own business nor the 
 world's history affects me. In this clear Alpine air 
 the distant mountains seem close at hand, but the 
 nearest social facts seem far away. The atmosphere of 
 the hills is a telescope with which we look at nature 
 through the eyepiece, but at the world through the ob- 
 ject glass ; one comes much nearer, the other recedes to 
 an illimitable distance. But there is one constant ex- 
 ception to this : those whom I love are nearer to me 
 than ever. 
 
 I went into the little Lutheran church in Untersee, 
 and while I sat there the memory of dear Herman 
 came over me so strongly that I thought my heart would 
 break. Those good German Madchen who sat near me, 
 and noticed my convulsive sobs, must have thought me 
 some great sinner, awakened and convinced by the 
 powerful preaching, — I, meantime, not knowing the 
 meaning of a word the preacher said. 
 
 Monday the sun shone bright, and we set off on foot, 
 for the Gemmi Pass. . . . We walked twenty-four miles 
 to the town of Kandersteg, which lies high beneath 
 the glaciers and snow-covered mountains of the Glarus 
 Alp. Tuesday morning we rose at five, and set off at 
 once to ascend the Gemmi. It took us two hours of 
 constant climbing to reach the top of the first ascent 
 behind Kandersteg. Our party was six : Mr. Cordner 
 of Montreal and I, who carry one knapsack alternately 
 between us ; two Mr. Frothinghams of Montreal, who 
 carry their knapsack alternately ; a guide for the day, 
 and another who has come with us from Rhigi, and 
 carries our cloak§. After crossing a valley, the type of 
 desolation, surrounded by bare cliffs, glaciers above, and 
 ruins of rocks below, we ascend another ridge of rocks,
 
 180 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 and pass on and up, round a lake which has no outlet 
 
 for its freezing waters, and then, climbing a ridge of 
 
 rocks, the whole chain of Savoy Alps is in view, 
 
 Monte Rosa, Mont Cervin, and the rest, white with 
 
 eternal snow. . • . 
 
 Geneva, Sunday, September 16. 
 
 Friday dawned clear, and from my window, at half 
 past four, I saw the clear outline of the monarch of 
 mountains and his attendant summits. I watched them 
 till they became rosy in the early sunlight. At eight 
 we set out for the Cross of Flegere, a height on the 
 other side of the valley, from which you have a fine 
 view of Mont Blanc and the surrounding peaks. 
 
 The view from that summit I trust I shall never for- 
 get as long as I live. Sitting on the edge of this steep 
 declivity we looked over the valley, not more than a 
 mile wide, to the accumulation of peaks and mountains 
 of which Mont Blanc is the highest and central eleva- 
 tion. His bare glittering summit receded far up and 
 beyond all the rest, being eight or ten miles away from 
 us, and two thousand feet higher than the gigantic 
 peaks and domes which surround him. A white vapor, 
 like a fleecy cloud, kept rising from his crest ; this was 
 the new-fallen snow blown off by the storms which 
 roar forever around him. ... I sat with all this vast 
 picture of ice, snow, granite peaks, glaciers, and water- 
 falls before me, — sat for an hour or more, wondering 
 if indeed this was the Mont Blanc of my school-boy 
 studies, of my childhood's dreams. The intense beauty 
 of the scene exceeded all that I ever imagined. These 
 great peaks seemed so close at hand, this vast glacier 
 was spread under my eye like a map. Mont Blanc, in- 
 deed, remained like a monarch, inaccessible, remote. 
 We came close to the kings and princes of his court, 
 but the emperor held himself aloof. . , .
 
 EUROPE. 181 
 
 Cologne, September 27. 
 
 On Monday we sailed the length of Lake Leman, 
 walked six miles back to Vevay, and drove part way to 
 Swiss Freiburg. We spent some hours of Tuesday in 
 Freiburg, and went on to Berne, which we left next 
 day ; passed the Jura through the gap, spent six hours 
 at Basel, went on to Freiburg in Baden, and from there 
 to Heidelberg and Frankfort ; sailed down the Ehine to 
 Bingen, from there to Coblenz and Bonn, and thence to 
 Cologne. 
 
 These are the statistics, the skeleton of my days. 
 But how shall I give you the color, or even the rude 
 outline of all the grace and beauty I have been seeing 
 and enjoying ? 
 
 Berne, with its old minster, and lovely walks be- 
 neath chestnut and walnut and linden trees, but above 
 all with its snowy Alps in the distance, will deserve a 
 longer paragraph than I have time to give it now. . . . 
 We arrived just before sunset, and saw a rosy collection 
 of clouds, but not the Alps, which were cloud-covered. 
 Next morning I was out before sunrise, and from the 
 high platform behind the minster I saw the white sum- 
 mits of the Alps growing rosy in the early light. After 
 breakfast I went to the minster and ascended to the 
 top, as is my wont, bought some pictures, saw the old 
 clock go through its evolutions, and departed for Basel. 
 I had determined to pay a visit to Dr. DeWette at 
 Basel, and was much surprised to hear that he had died 
 in June. I did not hear of it because the steamer that 
 brought the news arrived just after I left America, and 
 when I reached Europe it had ceased to be news. . . . 
 Having been thinking of an interview with him it gave 
 me a shock to be told, when I asked the way to his 
 house, '• Mais il est mort ! " 
 
 . . . There is a very old church at Basel, in which 
 the Council was held four hundred years ago at which 
 popes were elected and deposed. The furniture is
 
 182 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 all as it was, except that the bust of Erasmus stands in 
 the middle of the room. I sat on the old benches, and 
 went back four hundred years, and considered what 
 opinion I should give about the pope when it came to 
 my turn. Then I looked at Erasmus, and said, " What 
 business has that innovator among us ? " Afterward we 
 went into the crypt under the minster, and went back 
 four hundred years more, for that was built in the elev- 
 enth century. I paced up and down among the shadows, 
 and thought with alarm that in four hundred years a 
 council would be held above to depose a pope. I had 
 got so far back then as to be quite out of sight of Eras- 
 mus and the Reformation. 
 
 I love the crypts under these old churches. Solid, 
 compact, with nothing of decoration, they seem to belong 
 to the era of primitive religion, the strong faith which 
 dwelt among the roots of things. . . . You can neither 
 preach nor celebrate mass in a crypt, but on its solid 
 columns rests the church in which the pious multitude 
 pray, and the organ sounds the note of praise. 
 
 At Heidelberg we had a lovely day. This grand old 
 castle is an immense pile, not ruined by time, as was 
 Kenilworth or Conway, but destroyed by the hand of 
 man, torn in pieces and demolished by the ruthless policy 
 of kings and generals. You feel pity for the old castle, 
 and wish to turn away your eyes, as when a hero is 
 beaten in battle, or the champion of a hundred fights is 
 utterly vanquished. 
 
 Sunday evening, September 30, 1849. 
 
 The chimes of the Antwerp minster are now playing 
 their accustomed tune before the great bell strikes nine. 
 The moon, nearly full, illuminates the summit of the 
 lofty spire, whose light tracery I see through my win- 
 dow. . . . Alone in Antwerp, I am happy this Sunday 
 evening. Not a soul here knows me, but I have felt 
 the presence and love of God to-night, as I sat in the 
 dimly lighted cathedral, listening to the organ, looking
 
 EUROPE. 188 
 
 up to the arching roof, or seeing the worshipers come 
 and kneel at the different altars, and go away again. . . . 
 
 I have been enjo^ang Rubens here. His best pictures 
 are filled with life, energy, and the outflow of an exuber- 
 ant genius. An infinite variety prevails in his works. 
 Every figure has its own character, every head its own 
 expression. Jews, apostles, soldiers, women, children, 
 all are there in their own persons and style of being. 
 The effect of the whole is of a rushing tide of joyful 
 life, like a fine, fresh, clear, airy morning, when every 
 one feels well. 
 
 Loftier and purer than E-ubens, yet eclipsed by the 
 meteoric splendor of his genius, the paintings of Van- 
 dyck elevate one's nature. I cannot but love and rever- 
 ence Vandyck, so noble, so dignified is his whole method 
 of art. After seeing Rubens' masterpieces here in Ant- 
 werp, I retain the opinion I formed in England, that 
 Vandyck is the nobler artist. . . . 
 
 The last words of ''Eleven Weeks in Europe" are 
 characteristic. The steamer arrived at East Boston 
 late at night, and the passengers knew that the ferry- 
 boats to the city proper stopped their trips at midnight. 
 They were trying to persuade the admiralty officer to 
 let them cross in the boat which took the mails. " Just 
 then, looking over the side, I saw a skiff glide up to the 
 vessel, and a man climbed aboard. He had come for 
 the English papers for the newspaper offices. As he 
 went back with his bundle into his skiff, I dropped 
 after him, and in five minutes was at the end of Long 
 Wharf." He did not ask himself what a paternal gov- 
 ernment would have said to such an exceptional 
 landing, 
 
 H. W. BELLOWS TO J. K. C. 
 
 New York, December 1, 1849. 
 I welcome you home with all my heart, and wish I 
 could do it with both hands. I have been sick these
 
 184 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 few weeks past, or I should have written you the mo- 
 ment I heard of your arrival, to say that our hemi- 
 sphere was glad to recover its equilibrium, and I with 
 it, to see so efficient a co-laborer back. 
 
 I write to say that we are entirely depending upon 
 your invaluable cooperation in the "Inquirer." . . . 
 Osgood and I have the whole burden. With you this 
 would be no great affair. Indeed I would sooner risk 
 the paper upon such a tripod — each leg doing its duty 
 — than upon a centipede foundation, where any sense 
 of individual responsibility would be impossible, and 
 every foot might "claw off." 
 
 How capital your " House that Jack built " ^ was ! 
 
 TO H. W. BELLOWS. 
 
 Boston, December 7, 1849. 
 
 Dear Brother, — I thank you for your kind wel- 
 come home, and your friendly opinions of my usefulness 
 to you. 
 
 I am glad to hear you say that my articles are needed 
 in the " Inquirer," and useful when there, 
 
 I should be glad to write in the way of systematic 
 treatment of certain subjects of theology and morals, in 
 series of articles ; only I fear the dullness of the thing. 
 Tell me how many people complained of the heaviness 
 of the " Inspiration " papers, and whether any number 
 of persons say they have received good from them. My 
 tendency is to look at things all round; to give the 
 astronomical theory of every subject, giving the whole 
 curve of the comet, and not a picturesque description of 
 the phenomenon in its most interesting phases. All 
 this, I own, seems heavy for a paper. 
 
 Again, I think we ought to do justice to socialism, — 
 
 1 "The House that Jack built" was a short article in the Chris- 
 tian Inquirer, suggested by the tendency of the time to write reviews. 
 and reviews of reviews, literature thus seeming in danger of becom- 
 ing chiefly criticism.
 
 EUROPE. 185 
 
 to say a word in favor of protective unions, model lodg- 
 ing-bouses, etc. ; and to distinguish between destructive 
 and constructive socialism. 
 
 TO s. s. c. 
 
 December 21, 1849. 
 
 I have now been at home nearly two months, and al- 
 ready my European tour seems floating away from me 
 into thin air, as something I have dreamed, and not 
 lived. It is curious how the two ends of your life will 
 draw together and unite, from each side of such an 
 episode. 
 
 Such a journey renews one's life. We have much 
 goods laid up for many years, and the soul can take its 
 fill. One can go into the chamber of the memory, and 
 take down a fine picture and examine it anew with great 
 delight.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 MEADVILLE. 
 
 To a young American of curiosity and intelligence, 
 the first voyage across the Atlantic and subsequent 
 journeys in Europe are both tonic and stimulant. 
 There is hardly anything to be compared with it in 
 the experiences of other men. A great Englishman 
 lately said, " I should like to be an American, if it 
 were only that it must be such fun to go to Europe." 
 A man readjusts his perspectives, when he looks at 
 himself and his old life across the ocean. He makes 
 real, for all after life, a great many matters of history 
 which have only existed in imagination before. Notre 
 Dame, St. Peter's, and the Alps are different to him, 
 for all time, after he has looked upon them. It infal- 
 libly follows that a man of large life and courageous 
 purpose comes back from his first European tour with 
 plans quite new, both in regard to himself and to his 
 work for the world. This happened to Mr. Clarke on 
 his return from his flying European trip of the summer 
 of 1849. That happened also which has happened to 
 so many other men of spirit, that he overestimated the 
 new physical life given by the tonic and the stimulant, 
 and that he could not keep up to the plans which he 
 laid out for himself while under this influence. The 
 little diary is full of short entries which show how 
 eagerly he was at work, till they are broken by this brief 
 memorandum : — 
 
 " January 15, 1850. Taken sick with typhoid fever. 
 Confined to my room three months and more."
 
 MKADVILLE. 187 
 
 This imprisonment ends only on the 24th of April, 
 where is the entry, "Go out to drive round the Com- 
 mon." On the 1st of May he went down to breakfast. 
 The 3d of May records, " Working on my solar micro- 
 scope." The 4th of May the little entry is, "Eainy and 
 cloudy. Reading 'Pendennis.' Solar microscope." And 
 then follows the sad memorandum, " Letter to B. P. 
 Winslow, recommending the plan of selling the church 
 and investing the money." This plan was adopted; 
 and on the 7th of May, at its annual meeting, the 
 Church of the Disciples recommended to its trustees 
 to sell the church in which they had worshiped. 
 
 This was the end for the present of the cheerful and 
 large hopes with which all had begun so eagerly nine 
 years before. On the 26th of June is the memoran- 
 dum, " Suddenly taken sick with lung fever ; " and 
 again he seems to have been shut up for some weeks. 
 On the 11th of August comes the entry, " Last service 
 in the Church of the Disciples. Eight children bap- 
 tized. I made an address. Lord's Supper. Channing ; 
 prayer." (Probably his friend W. H. Channing made 
 the prayer.) 
 
 At this point his ministerial life in Boston is divided 
 by a gap of more than three years. In such a break-up 
 of hopes and plans I have not found one word of dis- 
 couragement expressed in any of the diaries or any of 
 the letters. Yet it would be hard to imagine a more 
 severe disappointment than the physician's announce- 
 ment that he must give up the energetic and enterpris- 
 ing work which engaged him, and rest himself for an 
 indefinite time. He had overcome the difficulties of a 
 beginning, and his work was successful on all sides. 
 Yet it was work which could not be well entrusted to 
 another; and there certainly seemed danger that his 
 favorite plans in establishing the Church of the Dis- 
 ciples might end in no visible results, if he could not 
 himself oversee them. Now that it is all over, it is
 
 188 DIARY AND COKRESPONDENCK 
 
 easy enough for us to see that he filled those years full. 
 In them he laid the foundation for much of the after- 
 work for which he is now most fondly remembered. 
 And the publications of those years, and their other 
 appeals to the various audiences to which he addressed 
 himself, give no sign of the life of an invalid gaining 
 strength for after-duty. 
 
 The pleasant home in Boston was broken up ; and in 
 August, 1850, by the route of Bedford Springs and 
 Pittsburgh, the family went to Meadville, Pennsyl- 
 vania, the residence of Mrs. Clarke's father. 
 
 A few memoranda of dates may be convenient. 
 
 From the 6th of January, 1851, to the 7th of Febru- 
 ary, Mr. Clarke was at Washington, D. C. 
 
 From the 6th of May to the 16th of June, the time 
 was spent by Mr. and Mrs. Clarke in a visit to Louis- 
 ville and the Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. In the 
 month of July there was an expedition to Niagara 
 Falls. In September Mr. Clarke visited Boston, and in 
 that month he preached at the Freeman Place Chapel. 
 
 With W. H. Channing he spent some days at R. W. 
 Emerson's in Concord, the three friends working to- 
 gether on the Memoir of Margaret Fuller. The entry 
 in his diary, September 5th, is, "At E. W. Emerson's. 
 Spent forenoon in Mr. Alcott's summer-house,^ reading 
 Margaret Fuller's Italian letters." 
 
 After his return from Boston in 1851, he was asked 
 to become for a time the pastor of the church in Mead- 
 ville. He agreed to do so ; and in his diary for Septem- 
 ber 28, he says: "To-day I begin my work as pastor 
 of this Unitarian society. My duties will be : on Sun- 
 days, to conduct public worship and to give lessons in 
 the Sunday-school ; on week-days, to visit the parish, 
 hold meetings, Bible-classes, etc. The theological stu- 
 dents to be members of my society." 
 
 ^ This was a summer-house built for Mr. Emerson by Mr. Alcott 
 and Mr. Thoreau.
 
 ME AD V ILL E. 189 
 
 In October he went to Detroit to preach the sermon 
 at the installation of Thomas J. Mumford, thence to 
 Chicago and Milwaukee, preaching in both places, and 
 on his way back preaching one Sunday in Cleveland. 
 
 It is clear enough that Mr. Clarke enjoyed the regu- 
 larity of his life and the freedom from the interruptions 
 of a working ministry in a large town. At the begin- 
 ning of the year he made a plan for the year's work, 
 as he often did when a year began. This time he had 
 little occasion to rebuke himself that he did not hold to 
 his resolutions. He had now the great advantage which 
 resvilts from a regular engagement with a competent 
 amanuensis. 
 
 At the end of 1851, in a summary with which he 
 closes the diary, he says : — 
 
 1. I have this year taken journeys to Washington ; to 
 Cincinnati, Louisville, and the Mammoth Cave ; to Erie ; 
 to Niagara, Buffalo, and Eochester ; to Niagara again 
 with Anna ; to Boston, New York, Brooklyn ; to Detroit, 
 Chicago, Milwaukee, and Cleveland (seven journeys in 
 all). 
 
 2. Publications : — 
 
 The Christian Doctrine of Forgiveness of Sin. Bos- 
 ton, 12mo. 
 
 Chapter in Life of S. M. Fuller. ^ 
 
 Articles in " Christian Inquirer," viz. : Deacon Her- 
 bert's Bible - class ; six chapters. Compromises and 
 
 ^ About this book there is a CTirious bit of literary history. It was 
 published in the year 1852. Curiosity was greatly excited about it. 
 It was the work of three writers well known among- the literary men 
 of New England. It is very interesting in detail, and, as might have 
 been expected, the sale was large and rapid. A second and third edi- 
 tion were hurried through the press, and there seemed every prosjieet 
 of a wide popularity to the book, when, presto, the sale stopped. Nor 
 has it ever been renewed. 
 
 The cause was easily found. Uncle Tom^s Cabin was published. 
 " The retail book market never can take two enthusiasms at one 
 time."
 
 190 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 their Consequences. A Trip to Mammoth Cave. Six 
 poems ; letters, etc. 
 
 3. Studies. 
 
 I have read a few books, but as it seems to me very 
 few. 
 
 The home to which Mr. Clarke went for recovery of 
 strength was in the town of Meadville, in the northwest 
 section of Pennsylvania. It is a picturesque region, 
 attractive for its walks and drives, and especially for 
 rides on horseback, over the hills. 
 
 The house of Mr. Huidekoper, where the family spent 
 the greater part of the next three years, was a rather 
 large, old-fashioned dwelling, with an extensive lawn, 
 containing many stately forest trees. In front of the 
 house was a long piazza, round whose pillars sweet-brier 
 and climbing roses twined themselves, and not far off 
 great beds of damask-roses perfumed the air. In the 
 early morning might be heard the tapping of little 
 hoofs over the piazza, and a couple of young pet deer 
 would signal to the master of the house that they had 
 come for their accustomed piece of bread and the touch 
 of his friendly hand. 
 
 Mr. Huidekoper was not only a friend to animals, but 
 a lover of children, and no time spent in giving them 
 pleasure seemed to him wasted. Every year he invited 
 the children of two Sunday-schools to spend the Fourth 
 of July on his grounds, and to bring with them any 
 near relatives. Sometimes as many as two hundred 
 persons came. If mothers brought their infants they 
 found a roomy tent ready to receive them. Games were 
 provided for children of different ages. Dinner and 
 supper were taken under the shade of a wide-spreading 
 maple tree. The children had a long, happy day, and 
 before sunset all were again safe in their own homes. 
 
 But one of the pleasantest things to Mr. Clarke's 
 children in the Meadville life was that they had there
 
 MEADVILLE. 191 
 
 so much more of their father's society than was possible 
 in Boston. In the morning one of them had an arith- 
 metic lesson with him in his study. Among his valua- 
 ble qualifications as a teacher was his unlimited pa- 
 tience, and this scholar cannot recall a single impatient 
 word at these lessons. " iS'o wonder your little head is 
 puzzled," he would say ; " my big head is puzzled too, 
 sometimes." 
 
 For the entertainment of his own children and their 
 cousins he constructed a little puppet-show and enacted 
 plays for them. But most delightful of all were the 
 stories he told them after they were in bed at night, 
 some of these being taken from Scott's novels, or from 
 the shorter stories of German romance. 
 
 Mr. Clarke's study was in a wing of the main house, 
 and had one door opening into the parlor and another 
 on the long piazza. It was a quiet place, and had once 
 been the family school-room. While the western window 
 and door looked across an intervale to the hills beyond 
 French Creek, on the other side of the room was a win- 
 dow through which, in the summer, sprays of a climb- 
 ing rose entered, and opened their blossoms above his 
 writing table. In this pleasant retreat he wrote the 
 books of which he has spoken, and later, " The Chris- 
 tian Doctrine of Prayel-," ^ " Eleven Weeks in Europe," 
 a translation of Hase's " Leben Jesu," beside many ar- 
 ticles for the '' Christian Examiner," " Christian In- 
 quirer," and other periodicals. His writing, however, 
 was not always done in the time of roses, but often in 
 the season of snowstorms and a low thermometer. 
 
 -While in Meadville he much enjoyed his intercourse 
 with the theological students. One of these, Rev. C. A. 
 Staples, has kindly furnished us with his recollections 
 of that period. 
 
 " I was at Meadville during the years of which you 
 speak, and saw a good deal of Mr. Clarke. He preached 
 * The Essay on Prayer was not finished until early in 1854.
 
 192 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 at the church, and occasionally visited the school. Some 
 of the students spent two or three hours a week with 
 him at Mr. Huidekoper's, in gymnastic exercises, read- 
 ing, and conversation. Sometimes he invited several 
 of us to pass the evening with him, when he would talk 
 about books, pictures, and subjects that were interest- 
 ing him. I remember that on one occasion he read to 
 us Theodore Parker's sermon on ' Old Age,' which had 
 just been preached. 
 
 " Mr. Clarke was deeply interested at that time in the 
 anti-slavery cause, and, before leaving for Europe [in 
 1852], gave an address upon the subject in the court 
 house, on a week-day evening. I think he did this 
 without any invitation from the people, as a public tes- 
 timonial of his abhorrence of slavery, and to free his 
 mind and conscience upon the matter. He also gave 
 one or more addresses in the church on Sunday even- 
 ings, upon the same subject. 
 
 '^ Teachers' meetings were held by him, in which he 
 gave pleasant talks upon the Epistles of Paul and the 
 Gospels. His preaching at this time was very earnest 
 and interesting, full of apt illustrations, and appealed 
 to the deepest spiritual experiences. It was stimulat- 
 ing to our minds and hearts, and gave great satisfaction 
 to many of the students, with whom he was very popu- 
 lar. He showed a kindly interest in us, and gladly 
 aided us in our studies whenever we sought his assist- 
 ance. He seemed to live in a world of pleasant memo- 
 ries and high thoughts, and it was an inspiration to all 
 good purposes to meet him. I think his influence upon 
 those young men who were most intimate with him and 
 were especiall}'- drawn to him was very marked, and ap- 
 peared in their aims and their work in after years."
 
 MEADVILLE. 193 
 
 TO MRS. A. F. C. 
 Steamer Ohio, Buffalo, August 12, 1851. 
 A. and I are on our way back to Meadville from Niag- 
 ara Falls, where we have been passing five and a half 
 days. We were at the Clifton House (Canada side), 
 where we had the falls in our eyes all day long, and in 
 our ears all night. What think you of being serenaded 
 for two and a half hours by Jenny Lind, with Niagara 
 for the undersong ? On Sunday evening Miss Lind 
 sang German and Italian hymns from eight and a half 
 till eleven, only ceasing while she played on the piano 
 various pleasant airs. Her room was directly below 
 ours, and we heard every note. ... I am to preach at 
 Brooklyn, N. Y., the last two Sundays in August. Per- 
 haps I shall go to Boston for a visit. 
 
 TO A. H. c. 
 
 Boston, September 7, 1851. 
 
 To-day has been quite warm. Before breakfast, I 
 went to Braman's Baths, and swam in the river. 
 
 I preached for Robbins morning and evening, our 
 own people being invited freely to attend. After even- 
 ing service we went into the vestry, and had a com- 
 munion service for the Church of the Disciples. About 
 sixty were present at it. I shook hands in the course 
 of the day with some hundred persons. . . . 
 
 September 15, 1851. 
 How much I wish that you could have been here yes- 
 terday. The Church of the Disciples met in the Wash- 
 ingtonian Hall, Bromfield Street. The hall was filled 
 with our own people ; all the most near and dear. It 
 was delightful to see them again. Theodore Parker 
 and many of his people were there, and some six or 
 eight colored people, including Lewis Hayden. (Parker, 
 Hay den, -Walcutt, Dr. Bowditch, and Prentiss were
 
 194 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 called out just after the sermon began, to attend to a 
 slave mother and child just arrived in a vessel from 
 Virginia.) After church some thirty or forty came and 
 spoke to me. 
 
 I went to the marble manufacturer, Carey's, on Satur- 
 day, and selected a little white cross and marble foot- 
 stone for our darling's resting-place. . . . On the cross 
 piece I had the one word " Herman " engraved, and on 
 the foot-stone, " Dear Boy." . . . 
 
 W. H. CHANGING TO J. F. C. 
 
 Did I ever tell you that the last time I saw your 
 sweet Herman was as he stood, in the sunshine on 
 the doorstep, holding out to me Plato's "divine dia- 
 logues"? It was but a few days before his death. 
 Ever since I seem to see him in an open portal where 
 the glory streams all over him, reaching forth the 
 " Phsedo," with a light as of the skies in his mild blue 
 eyes, and his lips half parted. 
 
 In May, 1852, Mr. Clarke attended a Unitarian Con- 
 vention at Cincinnati, and during this journey lectured 
 and preached. 
 
 Early in June, with Mrs. Clarke and their eldest 
 daughter, he went to New York and Boston. On the 
 10th of June, he says in his diary " call with Anna and 
 Lilian at the Irving House, and see Kossuth." 
 
 On the 13th of June, he preached in Freeman Place 
 Chapel, Boston. On the 16th the entry is, " See Church 
 of Disciples, and discuss the matter of its renewal." 
 And on the following Sunday he again preached in 
 Ereeman Place Chapel. 
 
 After his return from Boston in 1852, he resumed his 
 work in connection with the church and the theological 
 school at Meadville, and continued it until October 13th, 
 when, in accordance with the advice of Dr. James Jack- 
 son and Dr. Samuel Cabot, of Boston, he ^nd Mrs.
 
 MEADVILLE. 195 
 
 Clarke went to Europe, to spend the winter in the 
 south of Italy. 
 
 The three children were left at Meadville, with their 
 grandfather and their kind aunt, Miss Huidekoper, so 
 that it was unnecessary for the travelers to carry with 
 them any anxieties on their account. They sailed from 
 New York on the 20th of October, on the Cunard 
 steamer "Asia." 
 
 In Europe their route was through Paris, Nice, and 
 Florence, and from Leghorn, by steamer, to Naples. 
 At Florence, on the 30th of December, the entry is, 
 " Spent two evenings with Mr. and Mrs. Robert Brown- 
 ing." 
 
 They spent the month of January in Naples and the 
 neighborhood, and in February went by land to Rome, 
 where they arrived on the 13th. They remained in 
 Rome till the 1st of April, when they went by voiture 
 to Florence. On the 15th they left Florence, were 
 nearly a month in the north of Italy, crossed the Alps 
 by the St. Gothard Pass, and on the 13th of May, 1853, 
 were at Lucerne. Thence their route was down the 
 Rhine by slow stages, and they arrived in London on 
 the 1st of June. They sailed for Boston on the 25th 
 of June, and on Sunday, the 10th of July, Mr. Clarke 
 preached in Boston, meeting his friends at the Lord's 
 Supper in the forenoon of that day. 
 
 The following lines record the impression made upon 
 him by the Mediterranean shore : — 
 
 KIVIERA DI PONENTE. 
 
 On this lovely western shore, where no tempests rage and roar, 
 Over olive-bearing' mountains, by the deep and violet sea, 
 There, through each long happy day, winding slowly on our way, 
 Travelers from across the ocean, toward Italia journeyed we, — 
 
 Each long day, that, richer, fairer, 
 
 Showed the charming Riviera.
 
 196 DIABY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 There black war-ships doze at anchor, in the bay of Villaf ranca ; 
 Eagle-like, g^ay Esa, clinging to its rocky perch, looks down ; 
 And upon the mountain dim, ruined, shattered, stem and grim, 
 Turbia sees us through the ages, with its austere Roman frown, — 
 
 While we climb, where cooler, rarer 
 
 Breezes sweep the Riviera. 
 
 Down the hillside steep and stony, through the old streets of Men- 
 tone, 
 Quiet, half-forgotten city of a drowsy prince and time, 
 Through the mUd Italian midnight, rolls upon the wave the moon- 
 light. 
 Murmuring in our dreams the cadence of a strange Ligurian rhyme, — 
 Rhyme in which each heart is sharer, 
 Journeying on the Riviera. 
 
 When the morning air comes purer, creeping up in our vettura. 
 
 Eastward gleams a rosy tumult with the rising of the day ; 
 
 Toward the north, with gradual changes, steal along the mountain 
 
 ranges 
 Tender tints of warmer feeling, kissing all their peaks of gray ; 
 
 And far south the waters wear a 
 
 Smile along the Riviera. 
 
 Helmed with snow, the Alpine giants at invaders look defiance. 
 Gazing over nearer summits, with a fixed, mysterious stare, 
 Down along the shaded ocean, on whose edge in tremulous motion 
 Floats an island, half -transparent, woven out of sea and air ; — 
 
 For such visions, shaped of air, are 
 
 Frequent on our Riviera. 
 
 He whose mighty earthquake-tread all Europa shook with dread. 
 Chief whose infancy was cradled in that old Tyrrhenic isle, 
 Joins the shades of trampling legions, bringfing from remotest regions 
 Gallic fire and Roman valor, Cimbric daring, Moorish guile, 
 
 Guests from every age to share a 
 
 Portion of this Riviera.
 
 MEADVILLE. 197 
 
 VII. 
 Here the Af ric brain, whose story fills the centuries with its glory, 
 Moulding Gaul and Carthaginian into one all-conquering band. 
 With his tusked monsters grumbling, 'mid the alien snow-drifts stum- 
 bling, 
 Comes an avalanche of ruin, thundering from that frozen land 
 Into vales their sons declare are 
 Sunny as our Riviera. 
 
 Tired of these, the mighty mother sought among her types another 
 
 Stamp of blended saint and hero, only seen on earth before 
 
 In the luminous aureole shining from a maiden's soul 
 
 Through four hundred sluggisli years ; till again on Nizza's shore 
 
 Comes the hero of Caprera 
 
 Born upon our Riviera. 
 
 Thus forever in our musing comes man's spirit, interfusing 
 Thought of poet and of hero with the landscape and the sky ; 
 And this shore, no longer lonely, lives the life of romance only ; — 
 Gauls and Moors and northern Sea-kings, all are gliding ghost-like by : 
 
 So with Nature man is sharer 
 
 Even on the Riviera. 
 
 On the 28th of July Mr. Clarke was again in Mead- 
 ville, where he resumed his former duties in connection 
 with the church, preaching regularly until after the 
 first Sunday in October, when he left for Boston. 
 
 The tie which bound him and the Church of the Dis- 
 ciples together had not been broken by his absence. 
 During the years of separation he received letters from 
 his church friends, and he wrote letters to them, to be 
 read at their communion services. Through all dis- 
 couragements, both the people and their pastor had 
 held fast to the hope that in time they might again 
 unite and revive the work which had been so sud- 
 denly interrupted.
 
 198 DIARY AND (JOUliESl'Oy DEXCK. 
 
 Nice, Piedmont, December 4, 1852. 
 To the Members of the Church of the Disciples, assem- 
 bled together January 2, 1853. 
 
 My dear Friends, Brethren and Sisters, — I write 
 this letter amid green leaves and flowers, roses in full 
 bloom, orange and lemon trees covered with fruit, olive 
 trees with silver leaves like willows in June. You will 
 receive it amid frosts and ice, outward Nature rigid 
 with the stern aspect of a New England winter. But 
 it is the state of the heart which makes summer or 
 winter, and I hope it will be all summer in your hearts. 
 
 The orange trees which are growing round us here in 
 all the gardens remind me of what George Herbert 
 says, wishing that he could be like the orange tree, 
 " that busy plant," and never want fruit for his Master. 
 For the orange bears fruit, it is said, all the year, and 
 has on it at the same time blossoms, green fruit and 
 ripe. Happy the man who, with perpetual summer in 
 his heart, can be always bearing fruit and always cov- 
 ered with blossoms ; whose life is always in its spring, 
 its summer, and its autumn ; who can keep his youthful 
 feelings with his manly strength of action and his ma- 
 ture wisdom. For him alone can the orange tree be 
 the suitable symbol. 
 
 But it is the beautiful thing in Christian experi- 
 ence that the highest attainments of saints are felt and 
 understood by the humblest and lowliest Christian as 
 realities, though as realities in their germ ; and so, if 
 George Herbert, or Madam Guyon, or St. Theresa, or 
 Dr. Channing utter the noblest aspirations of their 
 souls, the chord of Christian experience vibrates in 
 harmony therewith in every Christian soul. Thus we 
 can all feel that it is no imagination, but something 
 very possible for every one of us to have a perpetual 
 summer in our hearts, and to bear fruit without ceasing 
 for our Master. For this, in fact, God destined us when 
 he called us to be Christians.
 
 MEADVILLE. 199 
 
 But how shall we attain this ? The answer I read 
 , to-day in the Epistle of Paul to the Romans. The gos- 
 pel is God's power unto salvation upon all who believe, 
 beginning and ending with faith. We are justified, 
 redeemed, and saved by faith. . . . When Paul wrote, 
 he wrote to Gentile and to Jew. We are Gentiles and 
 Jews still, needing to take to ourselves the same in- 
 struction, and to translate into the language of our own 
 day the same warnings and promises. . . . We too 
 need a power of God vmto salvation, a perpetual sweet- 
 ness in the heart, that we may bear fruit every day to 
 God and to Christ. 
 
 It is by faith that this must come. The Christian 
 life is a life of faith throughout, in its origin, progress, 
 and termination ; in its root, branch, flower, and fruit. 
 Faith is the open eye with which we see God. . . . 
 It is faith in a Divine goodness, in an infinite fatherly 
 tenderness, in a blessed fullness of salvation, which 
 softens the hard, and melts the frozen, heart. We love 
 God when we see his loveliness ; we love Christ when 
 we trust to him as a Saviour ; we love man when we 
 have faith in man's capacity for excellence. We can 
 only love ourselves in a true way when we can believe 
 in the destiny God has offered us, and feel the work 
 which he has done in our hearts. 
 
 This, my friends, is the best message I can send you 
 from this distant land ; I have found nothing better, 
 nothing deeper, than this truth, which grows clearer to 
 me every day and year. Among friends, amid the joys 
 and affections of home, it makes them more rich and 
 dear ; away from home, on the other side of the world, 
 it surrounds the soul with a heavenly home. In hours 
 of trial and bereavement, trust in a Divine Providence 
 is our only support, as many of you well know. Look- 
 ing forward to progress in knowledge, to growth of 
 character, to a fuller activity, what can support hope, 
 so often baffled, but faith ? And at the table of the
 
 200 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Master, in our consciousness of unworthiness, it is faith 
 in his love which enables us to draw near and sit at his 
 feet, and feel ourselves his friends. 
 
 In thinking of you thus met together at the begin- 
 ning of a new year, I cannot but ask myself whether I 
 shall be permitted before its end to unite with you 
 again. Shall we be together, as in times past, learners 
 in the school of Jesus ? I look forward to it now with 
 more hope than hitherto. Yet this and all other per- 
 sonal interests I desire to leave to that Providence who 
 has wisely directed my way thus far, and only pray 
 that no willfulness of choice on my part may lead me to 
 resist his leading hand. 
 
 I am here apart from all communion of worship, but 
 I feel myself more than ever at home in the great uni- 
 versal church of the Lord Jesus. In that church is one 
 Lord, one faith, one baptism. Heresies and schisms are 
 unknown in it. Its creed is a trust in God the Father, 
 and love to man the brother. Its worship is obedience 
 and benevolence, doing good and growing good. From 
 this church no one can excommunicate or exclude us 
 except ourselves. 
 
 May God bless and keep you forever. Your bro- 
 ther, James Freeman Clarke.
 
 CHAPTEK XII. 
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 
 
 On Mr. Clarke's return to Boston he preached several 
 times in the Young Men's Hall, on Bedford Street, and 
 afterwards in Williams Hall ; and after earnest confer- 
 ences in regard to the renewal of regular church ser- 
 vices and activities, it was decided that the Church of 
 the Disciples should be reestablished on the same basis 
 as at the beginning. 
 
 On the 1st of January, 1854, Mr. Clarke began anew 
 the pastorate which ended only with his life. 
 
 For most of the thirty-five years of this renewed 
 church activity, Mr. Clarke conducted the religious 
 services on Sunday morning ; sometimes also giving 
 Sunday evening courses of lectures. He generally had 
 a large class under his personal guidance in his after- 
 noon Sunday-school. This school collected three or four 
 hundred children, many of them of foreign nationalities, 
 from all parts of Boston. To give to these children a 
 happy Sunday afternoon, that, if they gained no other 
 good, they might at least learn the lesson of love, — 
 this was one of his central hopes for this school. And 
 it was not disappointed. 
 
 Some months after his death, a man whom I scarcely 
 knew approached me in a street car, and asked me 
 eagerly if it were true that Dr. Clarke was dead. When 
 I told him it was, he expressed the most serious grief: 
 " If only I could have seen him once again ! " But it 
 proved that he had not seen him for twenty years, —
 
 202 J>IARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 not since he was in the Sunday-school of the Church of 
 the Disciples. I tried to draw from him the secret of 
 his sorrow for this death, and to find what was the cen- 
 tral lesson which he had gained from Mr. Clarke. " Oh, 
 if you knew, sir, how good he was to us boys ! We had 
 such a good time there ! How I wish you could have 
 heard him tell us stories at Christmas ! Did you ever 
 hear him tell a story ? " There was no memory of any 
 scientific theology. But it was clear that, for that boy 
 at least, Mr. Clarke had wrought the miracle which he 
 once proposed as an aim for one of his teachers : " If 
 your scholars have learned the lesson of love, — why, 
 that is the great lesson of life." 
 
 Every Wednesday, again, the church met in its regu- 
 lar social meeting. In the theory of the church, I think 
 he attached even more importance to this meeting than, 
 to those of Sunday. That is, he would have said that 
 in our social order the Sunday meetings would take care 
 of themselves, but that this Wednesday meeting was 
 distinctive, and belonged to the very life of the Church 
 of the Disciples. The professional reader may wonder 
 how the interest of such a meeting was preservec. The 
 answer is that it was virtually a club, containing in its 
 membership a large number of sensible and public- 
 spirited men and women, who took in hand here every 
 matter which the life of Boston at the time suggested. 
 If an " outside barbarian " from England or Eiance ar- 
 rived in Boston, coming to study prisons, or botany, or 
 pauperism, or education, he would be very apt to turn 
 up at the Wednesday evening meeting. If there were a 
 fire at Portland or in St. John, and money or clothing 
 were needed, the matter would be practically discussed 
 in the Wednesday meeting. If Mr. Polk, or Mr. Pierce, 
 or Mr. Buchanan had committed the nation to some new 
 imbecility or infamy, the Wednesday meeting took cog- 
 nizance of it, in discussion or perhaps in action. The 
 Wednesday evening meeting was not so transcendental
 
 TUE ClIURCU OF TUE DISCIPLES. 203 
 
 but that it eouhl aend rifles to Kansas ; ^ it was not so 
 practical but that it could discuss free-will and fore- 
 knowledge. 
 
 In his own description of these meetings, written after 
 they had continued for many years, Mr. Clarke says : — 
 
 " All is informal conversation ; we have no speech- 
 making, we sit in a circle, and no one rises to speak. 
 The meetings have educated the church to thought and 
 its expression. We do not hear at them any religious 
 commonplaces, but each man or woman says something 
 to the point." 
 
 This is perhaps an overstatement, but it shows how 
 good a listener he was. He never heard any common- 
 places, because in his cordial sympathy he often made 
 more of what was said to him than another hearer 
 would have done. 
 
 The determination to " do something about it," which, 
 from the nature of the case, is inherent in all Unitarian 
 consultations, showed itself of necessity in these meet- 
 ings. It would be hard to say how many enterprises of 
 public spirit received direct material aid from them. 
 
 As to the cordial social life which grew up in the 
 church, the account given by Dr. Holmes, in " The Pro- 
 fessor at the Breakfast-Table," may well be copied. 
 
 "The Church of the Galileans," as he calls it, "is 
 open to all comers. The stranger who approaches it 
 looks down a quiet street, and sees the plainest of chap- 
 els,'' — a kind of wooden tent, that owes whatever grace 
 it has to its pointed windows and the high sharp roof, 
 traces, both, of that upward movement of ecclesiastical 
 architecture which soared aloft in cathedral-spires, 
 shooting into the sky as the spike of a flowering aloe 
 
 1 Mr- Clarke writes to a friend, December 3, 1S56 : " We collected 
 in our small society, last Sunday, the sum of $606 for a Thanksg-iving 
 present to Kansas. Last January we sent $535." Xo doubt these 
 contributions were for food and clothing. 
 
 ^ The society then worshiped in Indiana Place Chapel.
 
 204 DIAEY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 from the cluster of broad, sharp-wedged leaves below. 
 This suggestion of mediaeval symbolism, aided by a 
 minute turret in which a hand-bell might have hung 
 and found just room enough to turn over, was all of out- 
 ward show the small edifice could boast. Within there 
 was very little that pretended to be attractive. A small 
 organ at one side, and a plain pulpit, showed that the 
 building was a church, but it was a church reduced to 
 its simplest expression. 
 
 " Here, too, Iris found an atmosphere of peace and 
 love. The same gentle, thoughtful faces, the same 
 cheerful, reverent spirit, the same quiet, the same life 
 of active benevolence. But in all else how different 
 from the Church of Saint Polyearp ! No clerical cos- 
 tume, no ceremonial forms, no carefully trained choir ! 
 A liturgy they have, to be sure, which does not scruple 
 to borrow from the time-honored manuals of devotion, 
 but also does not hesitate to change its expressions to 
 its own liking. 
 
 " Perhaps the good people seem a little easy with 
 each other ; — they are aj^t to nod familiarly, and have 
 even been known to whisper before the minister came 
 in. But it is a relief to get rid of that old Sunday — 
 no — Sabbath face, which suggests that the first day of 
 the week is commemorative of some most mournful 
 event. The truth is, these brethren and sisters meet 
 very much as a family does for its devotions, not put- 
 ting off their humanity in the least, considering it, on 
 the whole, quite a delightful matter to come together for 
 prayer and song and good counsel from kind and wise 
 lips. And if they are freer in their demeanor than some 
 very precise congregations, they have not the air of a 
 worldly set of people. Clearly, they have not come to 
 advertise their tailors and milliners, nor for the sake of 
 exchanging criticisms on the literary character of the 
 sermon they may hear. There is no restlessness and 
 no restraint among these quiet, cheerful worshipers."
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 205 
 
 Mr. Clarke and his society did not regard '' member- 
 ship of the church " and " partaking of the elements in 
 the communion service " as interchangeable terms. His 
 own language is, " Our church is not a body of * profes- 
 sors/ but of students. We do not unite together as com- 
 municants to partake of the Lord's Supper, for we see 
 no natural connection between the two acts. We keep 
 them distinct. We should no more say, ' Members of 
 churches in regular standing are invited to partake 
 of the Lord's Supper,' than we should say, ' Memljers 
 of churches in regular standing are invited to sing the 
 forty-fourth hymn.' " 
 
 The evident danger of such parish life as has been 
 described, if your man has anything small about him, is 
 that he will become the flesh-and-blood idol of a little 
 coterie calling itself a church. There is danger that 
 this "church," instead of worshiping God, will fall 
 back on the worship of itself and its minister. I do 
 not know whether Mr. Clarke ever considered this dan- 
 ger, but it is clear enough that he was armed against 
 it. He insisted first, as indeed the Unitarian principle 
 requires, that his church should not occupy itself so 
 much with the salvation of its own members as with 
 the salvation of the world. He was quite as much a 
 missionary in Boston as he had been at Louisville, and 
 his church was a missionary church from the beginning. 
 It sent its own protest to Congress against the Mexican 
 War. It published its own tracts against the annex- 
 ation of Texas. When John Brown was arrested at 
 Harper's Ferry, John Albion Andrew, afterwards " War 
 Governor" of Massachusetts, came to a church meet- 
 ing, and proposed a contribution to pay the expenses of 
 his defense. And accordingly several hundred dollars 
 were collected at once in that church, and used for this 
 purpose. 
 
 Mr. Clarke himself had an eye upon every interest, 
 and could not be shut up in the details of parochial life.
 
 206 ULlIiY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 His sernious and all he printed gained a constantly 
 widening circle of readers, and his correspondence with 
 people who owed to him their emancipation from the 
 chains of dogmatic or of sacramental religion soon 
 made large demands upon his already fully occupied 
 time. From the period of his settlement in Boston, 
 the old personal letters, covering long folio pages of 
 paper, and written to his early friends, grew shorter 
 and shorter, while in their place he was writing instruc- 
 tion, encouragement, or words of inspiration to people 
 whom he had never seen. In another chapter we will 
 try to show how close was his connection with the anti- 
 slavery movement, of which he afterward wrote the 
 narrative for the " Memorial History of Boston." He 
 had no scruple about connecting anti-slavery with poli- 
 tics, and worked in every capacity with the men whose 
 views eventually took form in the action of the Free^ 
 Soil party. 
 
 But it was with his pen, and as an editor, that he 
 touched the world at the greatest number of points. 
 From the year 1842 he had been a frequent contributor 
 to the " Christian Examiner," and there is hardly a vol- 
 ume without an article by him from that time until it 
 was absorbed in " Old and New," to which journal also 
 he contributed regularly. 
 
 Not long after his return to Boston the question of a 
 permanent home had to be considered. " I must be on 
 my anchorage before I can work to advantage," he said. 
 He had a dream, common to many others of a like 
 social temperament, that by combining with a group 
 of friends who should live near each other in the coun- 
 try, each family having a home of its own, but with 
 rooms in common for conversation, music, lectures, 
 library, etc., the advantages of city and country life 
 might be obtained. It happened that in the spring of 
 1855 Brook Farm was offered for sale. This place, 
 nine miles from Boston, had become somewhat cele-
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 207 
 
 brated as the spot where, from 1841 to 1847, a company 
 of intelligent, educated men and women, with George 
 Ripley as leader, had endeavored to carry on a com- 
 munity on socialistic principles. Financially the plan 
 was unsuccessful, and in 1847 the organization was dis- 
 banded. 
 
 This was the place which Mr. Clarke bought, think- 
 ing it adapted to his plan of a neighborhood. But it 
 was too far from the station on the railroad, and too 
 distant from the city, to suit the business friends who 
 formed part of the group with whom he had hoped to 
 be associated. Indeed, it may as well be admitted here 
 that his marked characteristic of hopefulness was rather 
 apt to prevent him from foreseeing difficulties in regard 
 to the business details of life. He held the property, 
 however, for a number of years. 
 
 The plan of living on Brook Farm having been aban- 
 doned, early in September, 1855, he bought a lot on 
 Woodside Avenue, Jamaica Plain, belonging to his 
 friend and parishioner, George Wm. Bond, whose own 
 home was only two or three minutes distant. A house 
 was in process of building on the place, and this was so 
 far completed that Mr. Clarke moved into it before the 
 end of November. In this home he passed the re- 
 mainder of this life. 
 
 In the spring of 1856, he busied himself in planting 
 trees, making flower-beds, and setting out the smaller 
 fruits. In 1857, he writes that his soulange magnolia is 
 in blossom, and that his dielytra has a hundred flowers 
 on it. The number of trees he contrived to put into a 
 house-lot of one and a half acres was surprising, and soon 
 the place became like a young forest. The nest of the 
 oriole swung from the branch of a large elm, the scarlet 
 tanager flitted in and out of the white pine, the robins 
 built on the pillars of the southern piazza, and the 
 squirrels in their frolics easily leaped from tree to tree 
 all over the place. As the trees grew, the flowers and
 
 208 DIAEY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 fruits requiring sunshine gradually disappeared. In 
 the course of time it became necessary to sacrifice a 
 number of the trees for the good of the rest and for the 
 welfare of the house. It was long before Mr. Clarke 
 could accept this measure, but finally he gave his con- 
 sent, and went away for a few days that he might not 
 hear the woodman's axe striking at the lives which he 
 had fostered with so much pleasure. As the years 
 went on, the sacrifice had to be repeated, and though 
 Mr. Clarke's consent came late and reluctantly, he was 
 always magnanimous enough to say afterwards that 
 what had been done was an improvement. In the 
 autumn of 1887, a number of large trees were taken 
 down. Repeatedly during that winter he spoke with 
 pleasure of the larger extent of sky which had been 
 revealed, and of the better opportunity to see the beauty 
 of the sunsets. The last time he walked across his 
 room he laj^ for an hour in a reclining chair, looking out 
 on the trees which he had seen grow up, and which he 
 had loved so welL 
 
 After the reestablishment of the Church of the Dis- 
 ciples there was no farther break or pause in its life. 
 Remembering the amount of work which Mr. Clarke 
 put into the years that followed, and the youthfulness 
 which he kept to the last, it is amusing to hear him, at 
 the age of forty-nine, asking whether it were his duty 
 to feel old. 
 
 TO T. W. HIGGINSON. 
 
 Jamaica Plain, April 4, 1859. 
 
 . . . Believe me, it was no feeling of coolness which 
 was expressed in my last note, but merely haste. I 
 wrote a hurried line, merely to learn if the other letter 
 had been received. 
 
 I believe there is one good thing in my disposition, 
 or in my character, which is that I do not judge people 
 by their actions ; but, as I once said in some lines, I 
 " judge actions by their people." I am never in a hurry
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 209 
 
 to impute any fault to people whom I have known. 1 
 may not understand their conduct, but I assume that 
 there is something which, if I knew it, would make me 
 understand it in accordance with what I know of them. 
 
 This is my birthday, and I am forty-nine. Is it a 
 duty to feel old when one is forty-nine ? I value age, 
 for it brings with it many good things ; but I cannot 
 feel old. How young are Thought, Devotion, Love ! 
 I am as full of hope as I was thirty years ago, when I 
 graduated at Cambridge, looking forward to life expect- 
 ant, full of plans still. I am always expecting to preach 
 better, always hoping to write some book, or to learn 
 some new subject out and out. 
 
 Age brings us many good things, — among the rest, 
 troops of friends. A person ought to make four or five 
 new friendships every year, become acquainted with 
 ten or twenty good new people, and so by the time one 
 is fifty he can hardly help having a multitude about 
 him whom he likes. He has also seen the world mov- 
 ing on ; he has seen some who were wild becoming 
 tame, — some crabbed, sour fruit mellowing and sweet- 
 ening. 
 
 However, I did not sit down to write you a treatise 
 " De Senectute," but to acknowledge the receipt of your 
 note, and to say that to-day, of all days in the year, I 
 did not like to be thought '• cool " by a friend. 
 
 The next year brought his fiftieth birthday, and his 
 parishioners held a reception in the vestry of the Indi- 
 ana Place Chapel, to which were invited not only past 
 and present members of the church, but also others 
 who had shown an interest in its life. Among the rec- 
 ords of this occasion is an address by John A. Andrew, 
 who had become a member of the church a few months 
 after its organization. From this address we take a 
 few sentences : — 
 
 " I have been asked to attempt the expression of that
 
 210 DIAEY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 which is, in truth, inexpressible, — the affectionate re- 
 spect of this congregation of Disciples of Christianity 
 towards him Avho, as our pastor and as the guest of 
 this festivity, is the central figure of our group. ... I 
 confess, for myself, that I do not know how I could 
 overestimate the influence of this Home of the Soul on 
 the happiness and welfare of my life. Amid all dis- 
 tractions, and griefs, and bewilderments, I have seen 
 the vision of this temple, and heard its calm voice and 
 hopeful wisdom, encouraging, winning, teaching, and 
 strengthening the love of the best goodness and the 
 highest truth. . . . 
 
 " Twenty years of earnest, active, most devoted, and 
 various labor here, as a preacher, pastor, writer, and 
 citizen, have identified James Freeman Clarke not only 
 with this single organization, but also with the ideas, 
 progress, history, and character of liberal Christianity ; 
 and when I heard him, just now, regret the past, pass- 
 ing severe judgment upon himself, as if he " had not 
 attained," underestimating what is a part of history, — 
 in view of the loftiness of his ideal, — I wished that I 
 could but make him feel how priceless is the good my 
 own heart confesses that it owes to him, and how many 
 there are who would join with me in the confession. 
 Indeed, this human life is all too short to allow the in- 
 dulgence of vain regrets. . . . 
 
 " Nor would I forget the ample satisfactions which 
 accompany the mind, as it travels over the broader 
 field, cultivated by one of a catholic spirit and no pent- 
 up sympathies. We all know how closely allied in 
 labor, as in spirit, our pastor has been with the grand 
 movements which have signalized the history of the 
 last quarter of a century. How thankful it makes the 
 heart to find its human lot cast in such an age, such an 
 age of freedom of thought and action, such an age of 
 hopefulness. I will not stay to lament over its follies, 
 its failures, or its reverses. I see in them all only the
 
 THE CHURCH OF THE DISCIPLES. 211 
 
 limitations of men ; while through them all I also see 
 ' the steady gain of 7}ia7i.' 
 
 " I desire to render due thanks and due honor to him 
 who has guided and helped our thought and our activ- 
 ity, that, in all the vicissitudes of twenty years, against 
 all temptations, and under all allurements of temporiz- 
 ing policy, he has kept this pulpit free, this church 
 free, its creed as comprehensive as the formulary of the 
 first Apostles, its spirit of brotherhood as expansive as 
 the charity of the Christian faith. Nor had this been 
 possible, save to a man who saw too wide a field, too 
 great a harvest, a world too broad, and a humanity too 
 precious, either for delays, for jealousies, or for strifes ; 
 too much to be done, too many ways for doing good, too 
 little difference in the values of methods, to permit the 
 waste of strength and time in questioning the diversity 
 of the manifestation of the same spirit." 
 
 The Church of the Disciples outgrew the Indiana 
 Place Chapel, and early in 1868 they took measures to 
 provide themselves with a building better adapted to 
 their needs. Land was bought on Brookline Street, 
 corner of Warren Avenue, and the corner-stone of a new 
 edifice was laid on the 8th of July in the same year. 
 The building, being simple in design, was soon com- 
 pleted, and it was dedicated, February 28, 1869, on the 
 twenty-eighth anniversary of the first religious meeting 
 held after the formation of the church. 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 Jamaica Plain, March 14, 1869. 
 . . . Yes, we are in our new church. It is all we 
 w'ant. The auditorium is large, cheerful, perfectly 
 easy to speak in, a pleasant room to look at. The 
 rooms below are large, comfortable, convenient, and am- 
 ple for all our uses. We have had no quarrels, we have 
 no debt, we have all the seats free, every one is pleased 
 and happy. ... It seems miraculous to us ; I cannot
 
 212 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 quite understand it. ... I never did so much work in 
 the same time. But I am doing too much, and I shall 
 have to resign my professorship at Harvard, I think, 
 as well as my place on the Massachusetts Board of 
 Education.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 ANTI-SLAVERY. 
 
 At our earnest request, Dr. Clarke's classmate and friend, Rev. 
 Samuel May, of Leicester, has prepared tliis valuable narrative of his 
 ■work in the anti-slavery movement, which culminated in the emanci- 
 pation of the slaves of America. From the nature of the case, Mr. 
 May has been compelled to condense severely the material in hand ; 
 for there was no work of Mr. Clarke's life in which he was more in- 
 terested than this. E- E. H. 
 
 It was to a slaveholding State that James Freeman 
 Clarke's steps were directed, when, his term of study at 
 the Cambridge Divinity School being closed, he sought 
 a field of Avork, with a high purpose of self-consecra- 
 tion. The Unitarian church at Louisville needed a 
 minister, called him, and he went there early in August, 
 1833. He was earnest to make no delay in preaching 
 the higher form and better views of Christianity which 
 he had learned from his spiritual father, Dr. James Free- 
 man ; and to which, by the guiding of Dr. Channing, the 
 Wares, and other witnesses to the truth, and by his own 
 maturer studies, he had come to devote himself with all 
 the strength of a nature as deep and brave as it was 
 calm and self-possessed. Probably the matter of slavery 
 had nothing to do with his decision to go to Kentucky ; 
 and it is not likely that he had given much attention to 
 it until he went there. During the whole time of his 
 study at the Cambridge Divinity School, a society of 
 the students had existed for the purpose of considering 
 questions of practical benevolent action. The prisons 
 and jails were thus considered ; the temperance cause ; 
 the cause of seamen ; peace and war, and so forth. In
 
 214 DIARY AND CORRESPON DENCE. 
 
 this way there came in review before the students all 
 the various topics and movements which were then en- 
 gaging the attention of philanthroi)ists and the churches. 
 Tliese the students discussed in the presence and with 
 the aid of the professors, or listened to invited speak- 
 ers who, from official position or special study, could 
 best present them. But it is not remembered that the 
 subject of slavery in the United States came before 
 this " Philanthropic Society " in any way whatever, as a 
 wrong to be righted, as a sin to be repented of and put 
 away, or as a great national peril, and therefore a sub- 
 ject for a Christian minister's study and action. Per- 
 haps no greater proof of the deadness of the public con- 
 science concerning slavery could be adduced than this, 
 that in the theological school of the freest and most ad- 
 vanced denomination in New England, where thought- 
 ful and humane men like the Wares, Pollen, and Palfrey 
 had office and influence, men who subsequently, in dif- 
 ferent degrees and ways, became strong and outspoken 
 opponents of slavery, three years of study and prepara- 
 tion for active ministerial duty could be passed, from 
 1830 to 1833, with no special recognition of that great 
 wrong. 
 
 Mr. Clarke himself says, '' I was a citizen of the State 
 of Kentucky from 1833 to 1840. Slavery existed there, 
 it is true, in a comparatively mild form. But its evils 
 were such that I learned to look on it with unmixed 
 aversion. I learned my anti-slavery lessons from slav- 
 ery itself, and from the slaveholders around me." ^ 
 
 And what was American slavery ? may be asked by 
 readers who have come upon the stage since slavery 
 ceased to exist. The answer must be sought elsewhere ; 
 and there can be no difficulty in finding it. Mr. Clarke 
 himself has named a book to which he was indebted for 
 full and particular knowledge of the practical character 
 
 ^ Anti-Slavery Days, by James Freeman Clarke, p. 22. New York, 
 1884.
 
 AXTI'SLAVKRY. 215 
 
 aud working of slavery in the United States. It was 
 entitled " American Slavery as it is ; Testimony of a 
 Thousand Witnesses," a compilation made by Theodore 
 D. Weld, and issued by the American Anti-Slavery So- 
 ciety. Similar in character to it, but of twenty years 
 later date, is the " Key to ' Uncle Tom's Cabin,'" com- 
 piled by Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, the author of that 
 well-known book. 
 
 From the earliest introduction of kidnapped Africans 
 to America, where they were sold as slaves to the high- 
 est bidder, condemnation of their enslavement, protest 
 against it, and prophecy of evil consequences from it, 
 had not been wanting. John Wesley, founder of the 
 Methodist Church, — who had been in Georgia in early 
 life, and who had kept up his knowledge of affairs in 
 America, —just before his death, in 1791, besought Mr. 
 Wilberforce to persevere in his labors for the abolition of 
 the slave-trade, " till even American slavery, the vilest 
 that ever saAv the sun, shall vanish away." Thomas 
 Jefferson, slaveholder as he was, declared slavery to be 
 full of evil aud peril to the country. " I tremble for my 
 country," he said, " when I reflect that God is just, and 
 that his justice cannot sleep forever." And he said that, 
 in a contest between the enslaved and their oppressors, 
 not improbable, in his judgment, " the Almighty has no 
 attribute which can take side with us in such a con- 
 test." ^ A confession of judgment perhaps unparal- 
 leled, and sufficiently decisive of his belief that slavery 
 was evil, evil only, and that continually. 
 
 ^Nevertheless, heedless of the example of Washington, 
 who had given freedom to his slaves by will, heedless 
 of the warnings of Jefferson and of others whom they 
 professed to honor, the Southern States chose slavery, 
 and sought to make it perpetual. What if it defied God 
 and debased man, trampled on the Declaration of 
 Independence, and made their country a by-word and 
 
 1 Notes on the State of Virginia, 8th edition, 1801, p. 240.
 
 216 DIAIiY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 reproach ? It was gainful, and that answered every 
 objection. So they demanded Avhat Daniel Webster 
 afterwards called "solemn guarantees" for slavery in 
 the new constitution of the republic, and obtained them ; 
 demanded and obtained that the African slave trade 
 should go on unmolested for twenty years. The evil 
 spirit encroached more as it gained more. It found 
 that it could silence Northern men by threats to dis- 
 solve the Union ; that it could even command their 
 service, through fear of losing profitable trade. It was 
 as early as 1835 that Governor McDuffie, of South Caro- 
 lina, declared that " domestic slavery, instead of being 
 a political evil, was the corner-stone of our republican 
 edifice." The sentiment, in a thousand forms, was 
 echoed from all the Southern States, and more than a 
 generation passed before the dull North understood its 
 meaning. " It is all a hallucination," said a leading 
 journal of Virginia, " to suppose we are ever going to get 
 rid of African slavery, or that it will ever be desirable 
 to do so. . . . The negro is here, and here forever, is our 
 property forever, is never to be emancipated, is to be 
 kept hard at work and in rigid subjection all his 
 days." ^ We recall these passages now, that present 
 readers may see with what perverted ideas and seared 
 consciences the anti-slavery men of Mr. Clarke's day, iu 
 every part of the country, had to contend. 
 
 What must have been the effect upon the generation 
 coming upon the stage when such ideas prevailed, and 
 when the acceptance of them in American thought and 
 life was a part of education ; when opposition to slav- 
 ery, especially in the laws, was denounced as unpa- 
 triotic and treasonable, and made a crime subjecting the 
 offender to a felon's penalties ? What, we ask, would 
 be the moral standard of the young when required by 
 law and custom to bring their natural conceptions of 
 right and justice to the level of positive inhumanity ? 
 
 1 Richmond Examiner, October, 18.54.
 
 ANTI-SLAVERY. 217 
 
 Not long after Mr. Clarke arrived at Louisville he 
 saw one Sunday, in church, a rather striking-looking 
 man, listening attentively, and holding in his hand, 
 which hung over the pew, a riding -whip. This was 
 Judge Speed, whose farm was several miles from the 
 city, and who had ridden to church on horseback. ]VIr. 
 Clarke soon formed the acquaintance of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Speed and of their sons and daughters ; and when he 
 visited them he found a circle intelligent and refined 
 and of the greatest hospitality. Judge Speed held 
 slaves. On one occasion Mr. Clarke took a young 
 friend from Boston to call upon some of his friends 
 near Louisville. The first visit was to the plantation 
 of the Marshall family, holding slaves. Mrs. Marshall 
 was a sister of James G. Birney, afterwards well known 
 as the candidate of the political anti-slavery party for 
 President. " My Boston friend," says Mr. Clarke, 
 "believed that abolition was fanaticism; and he said 
 to Mrs. Marshall that he thought the jSTorthern people 
 who attacked slavery were very much mistaken. Mrs. 
 Marshall replied, ' It will not do, sir, to defend slavery 
 in this family. The Marshalls and the Birneys have 
 always been abolitionists.' The Boston gentleman was 
 greatly surprised to hear such an avowal. We next 
 drove to the house of my dear old friend, Judge Speed, 
 who took us about his plantation, and showed us the 
 negro cabins, having in them various comforts and orna- 
 ments. My companion said, ' Judge, I do not see but 
 the slaves are as happy as our laboring classes at the 
 North.' ' Well,' answered the Judge, ' I do the best I 
 can to make my slaves comfortable, but I tell you, sir, 
 you cannot make a slave happy, do what you will. God 
 Almighty never made a man to be a slave, and he can- 
 not be happy while he is a slave.' ' But,' continued the 
 Boston visitor, ' what can be done about it, sir ? They 
 could not take care of themselves, if set free.' 'I 
 think I could show you three men on my plantation,'
 
 218 DIARY AND COliRESrOXDEyCE. 
 
 rei)lied Judge Speed, ' who might go to the Kentucky 
 legislature. I am inclined to believe they would be as 
 good legislators as the average men there now.' " ^ It is 
 evident that Mr. Clarke's first acquaintance with slave- 
 holders was an exceptionally favorable one. 
 
 In the volume of Mr. Clarke's, entitled " Anti-Slavery 
 Days," from which the above passages are taken, the 
 open manner in which slavery was at that date dis- 
 cussed in Kentucky, in public as well as in private, is 
 quite fully described, and instances of such discussions 
 are given. In them Mr. Clarke was not silent. He 
 took part in a public debate in Louisville, lasting three 
 nights, which ended with a majority against slavery. 
 And in the Louisville " Journal," then edited by George 
 D. Prentice, he wrote in opposition to slavery. But his 
 chief field and opportunity for making his sentiments 
 known, not in Louisville only, but throughout an ex- 
 tensive Western region, were furnished by his editorial 
 connection with the '' Western Messenger," of which we 
 must now give a somewhat particular account. 
 
 In April, 1836, Mr. Clarke assumed the editorship of 
 the " Western Messenger," a monthly magazine, of 
 which eight numbers had already been published in 
 Cincinnati. In the first number published in Louisville, 
 he printed copious extracts from Dr. W. E. Channing's 
 work entitled " Slavery," which had just appeared in 
 Boston. These extracts occupied about twelve pages of 
 the " Messenger," and gave Mr. Clarke the opportunity 
 to manifest the attitude which, as an editor of a Chris- 
 tian journal, he felt it his duty to take on the subject 
 
 ^ At a later clay, two sons of Judge Speed carried out the lessons of 
 their home in a way to make them effective in the country's history. 
 Joshua Speed was the intimate friend of Abraham Lincoln, and in 
 daily intercourse with him, for five years of their early life in Spring- 
 field, Illinois James Speed, another son, was called by Mr. Lincoln 
 into his Cabinet, in 18(34, as Attorney General of the United States, — 
 a man of the highest personal character and of eminent legal ability.
 
 ANTI-SLAVERY. 219 
 
 of slavery. Mr. Clarke says, " We heard of this book 
 from all quarters before we saw it ; and that an edition 
 of three thousand copies had been sold immediately." 
 He speaks of various criticisms for and against the 
 work, and says, " Now, having read it we pronounce it, 
 in our judgment, the best production of its author. In 
 thought, unanswerable ; in expression, clear, concise, 
 and strong ; in spirit, not merely religious, but Chris- 
 tian. Springing from the deepest fountain of duty, it 
 flows out in the purest current of love. How many 
 there may be in Massachusetts that would object to 
 such a publication we know not ; but this we know, that 
 in Kentucky their number is very small. The people 
 of Kentucky have never been afraid of discussing this 
 subject, or of having it discussed before them. We 
 have heard lectures, we have participated in debates, in 
 which everything was said that could have been spoken 
 in a free State." 
 
 After occupying twelve pages with extracts from Dr. 
 Channing, Mr. Clarke adds, " The svibstance of the book 
 seems to be, Slavery is a wrong and evil ; but it does 
 not follow that immediate emancipation is right, or that 
 the slaveholder is a sinner. No good man should sleep 
 over this subject; he should think and pray upon it. 
 But it rests with the slaveholding States, and no others, 
 to point out the time and way in which slavery is to 
 cease. The people of the North have a right to form 
 and express opinions on this subject ; but they must do 
 it so as not to endanger the peace and tranquillity of 
 the South, and must never address the slave, but only 
 his master. To all which we say. Amen." In INIay, INIr. 
 Clarke, in a brief notice, commends the Colonization So- 
 ciety ; and in the August number, in answer to a com- 
 munication, he says, '' I consider the system of slavery 
 a monstrous evil, moral, economical, and physical, to 
 remove which from a single State I would willingly 
 devote my life ; but the principles of Abolitionists I
 
 220 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 consider false, and the consequences of their efforts 
 evil to the master and the slave. The false position 
 which all Abolitionists take is this, that if a system or 
 institution is wrong, all who support it are committing 
 sin. . . . Though the system of slavery is a wrong one, 
 I deny that to hold slaves is always to commit sin. The 
 system must be judged by its consequences, the man by 
 his motives. If his motive in holding the slave is to 
 perpetuate the system for his own selfish ends, though 
 he sees its general evils, then his act is a sinful act. If 
 his motive is to preserve the peace of the community 
 and the welfare of the slave till the time comes when 
 emancipation is safe and wise, then it is not a sinful 
 act." Then follow arguments against the advisability 
 of immediate emancipation. In closing the article, Mr. 
 Clarke protests that he is not to be suspected of having 
 acquired a love of slavery by residence in a slave State. 
 He says, " Acquaintance with slavery has only increased 
 my disgust and horror at the misery flowing from it." 
 
 In proof that liberty of speech prevailed in Kentucky 
 Mr. Clarke cites the case of Mr. Birney, who had 
 preached and lectured all through the State against 
 slavery, showing it to be politically bad, economically 
 injurious, morally wrong, and socially dangerous. But 
 when Mr. Birney proposed to set up an Abolition paper 
 in the town of Danville, the opposition was so strong 
 that he left Kentucky, to publish his paper in Cincin- 
 nati. Mr. Clarke thinks it was a mistake in him to 
 throw away the vantage ground which he possessed as 
 a native Kentuckian, and to go elsewhere " to write and 
 print an Abolition newspaper. He descended [in so do- 
 ing] to a level which any Garrison could occupy as 
 well as he." But freedom of thought and speech was 
 necessary to Mr. Birney, and we cannot call that free 
 speech, in this case, which did not include the right 
 to print and publish his thoughts. Mr. Birney was 
 under the necessity of establishing himself elsewhere
 
 ANTI-SLA VEE Y. 221 
 
 in order to discharge his conscience in the matter of 
 slavery ; and so his course was riot to be considered 
 a descent, but the reverse, as it proved his high pur- 
 pose, while it showed that in some parts of Kentucky, 
 at least, a free press was impossible. 
 
 In after years Mr. Clarke learned to think otherwise 
 of Mr. Garrison, and to cooperate with him to a consid- 
 erable extent ; and, when slavery fell, to join by word 
 and deed in the public recognition of those great ser- 
 vices of Mr. Garrison's life which made the nation for- 
 ever his debtor. In " Anti-Slavery Days" (p. 22), Mr. 
 Clarke says, speaking of those early years in Kentucky, 
 " At that time I knew nothing of Mr. Garrison or his 
 movement, and supposed, as others did, that he was 
 merely a violent fanatic. After I returned to Boston 
 in 1841, I had the advantage of knowing him and his 
 fellow-laborers, and seeing something of their grand 
 and noble work." 
 
 In the " Messenger " of December, 1836, Mr. Clarke 
 printed in full the stirring lines of Whittier, on the 
 passage of Pinckney's " Resolutions " and of Calhoun's 
 " Bill of Abominations," beginning 
 
 " Now by our fathers' ashes ! — where 's the spirit 
 Of the true-hearted and the unshackled gone ? 
 Sons of old freemen, do we but inherit 
 
 Their names alone ! " ^ 
 
 In the " Messenger " of February, 1837, Mr. Clarke 
 says, " We have have read Dr. Channing's letter to Mr. 
 Birney with great pleasure. It is a noble vindication 
 of the outraged rights of free discussion." He again 
 has a friendly word for the Colonization Society, but is 
 " not surprised that the negroes are so suspicious of this 
 society as to believe that those who embark for Liberia 
 are never carried there, but are sold as slaves. The 
 African has received too much wrong from the white 
 
 1 In the later editions of Mr. "Whittier's poems, these lines begin 
 thus : " Men of the Northland," etc
 
 222 iJlAIiY AND COERESFONDENCE. 
 
 man to make us wonder at such suspicions." In the 
 December issue, Mr. Clarke reviews a book called *' The 
 Bible against Slavery," in which he takes occasion to 
 speak of " Abolitionists of the ultra sort, whose object is 
 not to convince, but to bear down by a storm of popular 
 feeling." Perhaps, as an individual judgment, this is 
 as harsh as any of those by Abolitionists which Mr. 
 Clarke censures. Abolitionists in those days were the 
 victims of such storms, as witness Mr. Clarke's re- 
 peated rebukes of mob violence, and they had little 
 power, even had they the disposition, to excite such 
 storms against others. In a later number Mr. Clarke 
 quotes approvingly Dr. Channing's words : " No com- 
 munities can withstand just, enlightened, earnest opin- 
 ion ; and this power must be brought to bear on slavery 
 more zealously than ever." 
 
 The destruction by a mob of the printing press of 
 Kev. Elijah P. Love joy, of Alton, 111., and the death of 
 Mr. Lovejoy at the hands of the mob, brought from Mr. 
 Clarke the following outburst : " We must add our voice 
 to the sound of rebuke which has been uttered by the 
 press almost unanimously from North and South, from 
 East and West. One or two persons have attempted to 
 divert the public attention from this terrible outrage to 
 the imprudence of Mr. Lovejoy. ... A man whose mind 
 at such a time can dwell for a moment on Lovejoy's 
 imprudence or mistakes, on the folly of Abolitionism, 
 or the mischief which Abolitionists are doing, shows 
 either that he has a very imperfect idea of the transac- 
 tion, or a very imperfect notion of right and wrong. 
 Abolitionism is not now the question. The question is 
 of American freedom, of liberty of thought and speech, 
 of the freedom of the press, of which Hume's famous 
 maxim declares that 'the liberty of the people must 
 stand or fall with it.' " 
 
 In the '' Messenger " for February, 1838, Mr. Clarke 
 re-affirms his belief that immediate emancipation would
 
 ^-V Tl-SLA VER Y. 223 
 
 be wrong ; that some kind of education and preparation 
 should precede emancipation. 
 
 Some of his Alton subscribers had withdrawn their 
 subscriptions, and the editor thus addresses them : **Are 
 you wise in discontinuing on account of our notice of 
 Mr. Lovejoy's murder ? We think not. What you 
 ought to pray for just now is, that every editor, far and 
 wide, shall speak out his abhorrence of this deed in 
 tones which shall rebuke the spirit of mob-ism in your 
 borders. You have silenced your own press, and you are 
 actually under the rule of a mob. Opinion governs every- 
 thing, and the opinion of your city is in favor of mob 
 law. . . . We know that you have good men and true 
 amongst you, but be assured it is a mistaken patriotism 
 which would now refuse to listen to tones of rebuke." 
 
 The " Messenger " for May, 1839, contains extracts 
 from the letter of Dr. Channing to Jonathan Phillips, 
 of which the chief topic was a recent speech of Mr. Clay, 
 of Kentucky. Mr. Clarke says : " We do our readers 
 the best service in our power by presenting them with 
 these extracts. Many of our Southern and Western 
 friends may have no other opportunity of becoming ac- 
 quainted with the views of one who speaks upon the 
 great subject of interest before the American people 
 with equal sympathy and candor. May the day soon 
 come for that frank and friendly interchange of thought 
 which all, as Christians and brethren, must desire." 
 
 After October, 1839, the " Messenger " was edited by 
 Rev. William H. Channing ; but in the August number 
 of 1840, Mr. Clarke writes of the case of Rev. George 
 F. Simmons, compelled to leave Mobile on account of 
 his sermons against slavery. He states the facts, which 
 are honorable to Mr. Simmons, but gives reasons " which 
 induce us to believe that a Christian minister, in a 
 slaveholding State, ought not, under present circum- 
 stances, to preach on the subject of slaveholding." He 
 says the " subject of slavery cannot be handled in any
 
 224 DIAliY AND CORBESPONDENCE. 
 
 way in the South without producing instant and violent 
 excitement ; " for *' the public mind is in a diseased and 
 irritable condition." 
 
 This abstract of the " Western Messenger's " course 
 in regard to slavery, during the three and a half years 
 of Mr. Clarke's editorship, is given because its evidence, 
 we think, is conclusive of Mr. Clarke's early principle 
 against slavery, his sincere and strong desire that it 
 should cease, and his determination to speak his thought 
 about it carefully, yet plainly. He Avas in a community 
 where prominent men and families, some of them his 
 personal friends, held and openly expressed anti-slavery 
 sentiments, and in a State extensively believed to be 
 ripe for emancipation, which belief he shared. There 
 was ground for hope of it when men like James G. 
 Birney, Cassius M. Clay, and Robert J. Breckenridge, 
 besides such as have been already named, representing 
 the best intelligence and character of the State, could 
 publicly advocate and practice emancipation, as then 
 and later they did. That this belief was an error in 
 time appeared, as Mr. Clarke sorrowfully acknowledged. 
 " In those days every Kentuckian said that Kentucky 
 would be the first State to emancipate, Alas ! it was 
 one of the very last." ^ 
 
 Here, as he leaves Kentucky, we may record his own 
 judgment of slavery, which, though expressed at a later 
 day, was evidently the firm conviction of his mind after 
 his seven years' residence in a slave State. "Abolition- 
 ists have stated the evils of slavery very strongly, but 
 they never have been overstated. It was a condition of 
 perpetual warfare. Not only were untold cruelties in- 
 flicted on the slaves almost as a matter of necessity; 
 but among the whites deeds of violence, duels, street- 
 shootings, death by lynch-law, mob violence in all its 
 forms were common. The young men grew up in the 
 midst of license and self-indulgence of all kinds." He 
 
 1 Anti-Slavery Days. p. 26.
 
 ANTI-SLAVERY. 225 
 
 testifies to exceptions in the persons of upright, honor- 
 able, pure men and women, who felt responsibility for 
 the proper care and comfort of their slaves. " But the 
 system itself," he adds, " was so evil that it made their 
 best efforts almost useless." ^ 
 
 It was a noteworthy fact of his life in Louisville that 
 he openly attacked the custom of dueling, then almost 
 unquestioned, and that he preached against it ; even 
 men of note and character deeming him singularly 
 warped or blinded in doing so. A friend of his, a 
 judge, said, " He might just as well preach against 
 courage." 
 
 Leaving Louisville in June, 1840, he came in the 
 same year to Boston, and gave himself to his long- 
 cherished purpose of forming a Christian society in 
 accordance with his ideas of equal discipleship and co- 
 operation. The hold which the question of slavery had 
 upon him soon appears. In the mass of his manuscripts 
 in these early years are sermons upon such themes as 
 " the national sin of slaveholding ; " " the sin of holding 
 in bondage three millions of our brethren ; " " slavery 
 in the United States," and that all have a duty to do 
 for its abolition, against Texan annexation, against the 
 Mexican war, and so forth. In a sermon in 1847, when 
 his topic was, " Slavery must be destroyed or it will 
 destroy us," he said: "If I were in the Senate of the 
 United States, I would end every speech as Cato ended 
 his speeches in the Eoman Senate ; whatever his sub- 
 ject, he alwaj^s ended by saying, 'And besides. Senators, 
 it is my opinion that Carthage should be destroyed.' 
 So, whether I spoke of tariff or of banks, of manufac- 
 tures or of commerce, of relations with France or with 
 China, I should think it logical to add, 'And besides, 
 Senators, it is my opinion that slavery should be de- 
 stroyed.' For what sort of prosperity can we hope to 
 have in any direction, Avhile this deadly foe is attacking 
 our heart and life ? " 
 
 * Anti-Slavery Days, p. 21.
 
 226 DIABY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 In 1844, a letter had been received from British Uni- 
 tarian ministers, addressed to their American brethren, 
 on the subject of slavery, and a brief reply in acknow- 
 ledgment had been made. Such had been the growth 
 of anti-slavery opinion that it was widely felt among 
 the Unitarian ministers that they should take some 
 united action on the subject ; and at a public meeting, 
 held at the Bulfinch Street vestry in Boston, May 29, 
 1845, it was resolved to issue a protest against slavery 
 as unchristian and inhuman ; that all the ministers 
 should have opportunity to sign it, and that it should 
 then be published and distributed. A committee of 
 eleven ministers — of which Mr. Clarke was one, Eev. 
 Caleb Stetson, of Medford, being the chairman — was 
 chosen to draw up this protest, and Mr. Clarke was re- 
 quested by the committee to write it. This he did with 
 care, and at some length. It Avas accepted essentially 
 as it came from his hands. "All who have seen it," said 
 the chairman, " are exceedingly well pleased with it." 
 
 The protest bore its "solemn testimony" against 
 slavery, because " We owe it to three millions of slaves, 
 our fellow-men and brethren, to do what we can to undo 
 their burdens by calm and earnest appeals to the reason 
 and consciences of the slaveholders," and because " We 
 owe it to the slaveholders, our fellow-men and brethren, 
 to speak a word of warning concerning the moral evil 
 and inhumanity " of slaver3\ The fact that the gospel 
 of Christ cannot be fully preached at the South ; the 
 fact of Northern complicity in upholding slavery ; and 
 the fact that all the principles \ipon which the Unita- 
 rian faith is based are violated by slavery, are especially 
 given as reasons for the protest. 
 
 " And we do hereby pledge ourselves," it is said in 
 conclusion, " before God and our brethren, never to be 
 weary of laboring in the cause of human rights and 
 freedom, till slavery be abolished and every slave made 
 free." The prote'^t was signed by one hundred and 
 seventy-three Unitarian ministers.
 
 AN TI-SLA VER Y. 227 
 
 Soon after coming to Boston he became a frequent 
 writer for " The Christian Worki," established and ed- 
 ited by Mr. George G. Channing. At a later period, 
 1847-48, he was himself its editor. From an imperfect 
 file before us it appears that slavery, and subjects con- 
 nected with it, were frequent topics with him ; as also 
 with another correspondent, John A. Andrew, after- 
 wards known as the " great War Governor " of Massa- 
 chusetts, but at that time a young lawyer in Boston, a 
 personal friend and parishioner of Mr. Clarke. The 
 duty of every Northern man to give his influence for 
 the termination of slavery is set forth in letters, in 
 leading articles, and in sermons. The especial duty of 
 Unitarians to make application of their distinguishing 
 principles to this subject is urged. The paper had 
 much influence in bringing the Unitarian ministers to 
 unite in the protest against slavery already spoken of. 
 Mr. Clarke and Mr. Andrew also wrote often in its col- 
 umns against the war with Mexico, so obviously a slave- 
 holders' war. A protest against that war went to Con- 
 gress from the Church of the Disciples, in Boston, of 
 which Mr. Clarke was the minister. It was signed by 
 one hundred and thirty members of that church. 
 
 For several years, subsequently, he was the Boston 
 correspondent (" Shawmut ") of the New York " Chris- 
 tian Inquirer," edited at different times by Eev. Samuel 
 Osgood and Kev. Henry W. Bellows. We find him 
 writing therein on the Fugitive Slave Law, and the con- 
 sternation it caused among both escaped slaves and free 
 colored people in the Northern States. He describes 
 one such exodus, of which he was himself a witness, of 
 colored residents of the State of Pennsylvania. Meet- 
 ings and lectures against that law are reported by him. 
 The indictment of Rev. Theodore Parker for words 
 spoken in Faneuil Hall hostile to that law ; the duty of 
 taking one's religious principles into the political con- 
 test against slavery ; the New England Emigrant Aid
 
 228 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Society's work in saving Kansas from slavery ; the 
 Dred Scott case, with the humiliating decision of the 
 United States Supreme Court, and the dissent of Judges 
 McLean and Curtis therefrom, — these, and whatever 
 other phase of the great question might present itself, 
 were treated plainly and fearlessly. In the protracted 
 effort to remove Judge Edward G. Loring from the of- 
 fice of Judge of Probate for Suffolk County in Massa- 
 chusetts, because of his act, as a United States Com- 
 missioner, in giving up Anthony Burns to slavery, — an 
 effort delayed by Governor Gardner's refusal to comply 
 with the request of the Legislature, but afterwards car- 
 ried into execution by Governor Banks, — Mr. Clarke 
 was greatly interested, contributing to its success by 
 his articles in the " Inquirer." 
 
 In October, 1856, he addressed a public letter to his 
 fellow-townsman, J. Thomas Stevenson, reviewing the 
 political course of Daniel Webster as a senator of Mas- 
 sachusetts, and as a member of President Fillmore's 
 Cabinet. Mr. Stevenson was a personal and political 
 friend of Mr. Webster ; and it was generally understood 
 that Mr. Webster's support of the Fugitive Slave Law 
 was a thorough surprise and grief to him. The letter 
 appeared in a Kew York paper, signed " A Citizen of 
 Massachusetts ; " but its authorship was not a secret. 
 Mr. Clarke points out, with faithful plainness, the 
 causes of Mr. Webster's change and fall. " We all 
 know," he said, "■ that he had a majestic intellect and a 
 large soul ; but we know equally well that the one was 
 not infallible, nor the other immaculate." Step by step 
 Mr. Webster had subdued the tone of his early condem- 
 nation of human slavery, and of whatever and whoever 
 supported it, till at length he is found consenting to, 
 and voting for, that slaveholders' extreme measure, the 
 Fugitive Slave Law ; a measure which proved a fatal 
 one to him and all its authors, a load too grievous for 
 the long-divided and dishonored North to endure.
 
 ANTI-SLA VER Y. 229 
 
 Mr. Clarke was a contributor to the " Christian Ex- 
 aminer " for many years. We can only refer here to 
 the chief instances in which he wrote therein of slav- 
 ery. There was published in Boston in 1854, " A South 
 Side View of Slavery ; or, Three Months at the South 
 in 1854. By Nehemiah Adams, D. D." Dr. Adams 
 was pastor of a Boston church. His motive in visiting 
 the South, and in publishing the book, must be sought 
 in the book itself. It may be referred to, now, as evi- 
 dence of the kind of work which an ediicated New Eng- 
 land minister of that day was willing to do. Mr. 
 Clarke examines this book (" Christian Examiner," Jan- 
 uary, 1855) in a very thorough manner. No abstract of 
 his review, within any brief compass, could do it jus- 
 tice. For keen analysis, sound criticism, effective and 
 witty reply, it is a good model. "We have spoken 
 strongly," he says in conclusion, " in censure of this re- 
 markable production, but no more strongly than the 
 case demands. . . . When a Northerner enjoying the 
 blessings of freedom, when a minister of the gospel 
 which was sent to break every yoke and to let the op- 
 pressed go free, goes South to find excuses for slavery, 
 and comes home in order to publish them, we think the 
 case demands plain speaking, — that there are no words 
 too strong to use for its condemnation." 
 
 In like manner, in the pages of the " Examiner," he 
 reviews two other books, of similar purport ; one by 
 Eev. Nathan Lord, D. D., president of Dartmouth Col- 
 lege, the other by John H. Hopkins, D. D., bishop of 
 the Episcopal Church in Vermont. Dr. Lord issued, 
 in fact, two pamphlets ; the first, anonymously, as a 
 " Northern Presbyter." The American Presbyterian 
 Church, of which he was a member, had taken a de- 
 cided stand against slavery in 1794 ; and, in 1818, had 
 declared it to be the duty of Christians to obtain the 
 complete abolition of slavery throughout Chi-istendom, 
 and, if possible, throughout the world. Dr. Lord, how-
 
 \ 
 
 230 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 ever, in 1854, overrides this position of his church, — a 
 position, indeed, which that church itself had long before 
 abandoned.^ He maintains that slavery is an institu- 
 tion of God, according to natural religion, and that it is 
 a positive institution of revealed religion, an institution 
 which may profitably be extended, and that Christians, 
 instead of opposing slavery, ought to oppose the men 
 who seek to abolish it. He admits abuses, and con- 
 demns them ; but claims that they are not inherent in 
 it. Mr. Clarke states Dr. Lord's position as not only 
 excusing slavery, but defending, and justifying, and 
 admiring it. " He declares he would own slaves, if 
 necessity or convenience should require it." This posi- 
 tion so greatly " out-Heroded Herod," even at a time 
 when the anti-slavery movement had but little counte- 
 nance, that it unquestionably shocked the general sense 
 of the community. It afforded Mr. Clarke an excellent 
 opportunity for his critical powers, his fund of informa- 
 tion, and his clear, controlling sense of justice, in all 
 which qualities he compares most favorably with his 
 Presbyterian opponent. Mr. Clarke says, " In an age 
 of light. Dr. Lord has chosen darkness." " His writ- 
 ings will not strengthen slavery ; but they will promote 
 inhdelity. When Dr. Lord argues that slavery is a 
 ' positive institution of revealed religion,' no man will 
 believe any more in slavery ; but many will disbelieve 
 in revelation. . . . We wish no harm to Dartmouth 
 College, but rather good, in desiring that it may be 
 speedily relieved from the injury of having at its head 
 a man of such extreme and bitter fanaticism." ^ 
 
 Of Bishop Hopkins's book, which was entitled " The 
 American Citizen," six chapters of which are given to 
 the citizen's duties in connection with slavery, Mr. 
 Clarke treats in the "Examiner" of September, 1857. 
 
 ^ The American Churches the Bulwarks of American Slavery, by 
 James G. Birney. 
 
 ■^ Christian Examiner, November, 1856.
 
 I 
 
 ANTI SLAVERY. 231 
 
 It was a book of contradictions, representing slavery as 
 a part of the divine plan, sanctioned by the church ; and 
 yet something to be got rid of ; and this to be effected 
 by sending the slaves to Africa. It was difficult to deal 
 patiently with such a book, but the weary work was 
 done. " AVe are ready," Mr. Clarke concludes, " for any 
 other bishop, pious South Side traveler, metaphysical 
 president, or other dignitary, who may next enter the 
 lists in defense of our national sin, or raise a cry of ex- 
 ultation over our national shame. We are sorry to read 
 such books, but not sorry to criticise them." 
 
 He made the condition of the colored people a special 
 study. His note-books abound in memoranda concern- 
 ing them, especially such as had ever been slaves. Long 
 lists of names are given, showing occupation, standing 
 and reputation, ownership of property, habits as to 
 temperance, church attendance, number of children in 
 schools. In 1850, a serious illness had obliged Mr. 
 Clarke to give up, for a time, his connection with his 
 church in Boston ; and, in the autumn, he went to Mead- 
 ville, Pennsylvania, for rest and recovery. When par- 
 tially restored, he became minister of the Meadville 
 society, continuing about two years. During this pe- 
 riod he visited Cleveland and Cincinnati, and made an 
 extended inquiry into the character and circumstances 
 of the colored people, recording the facts obtained at 
 much length. He consults at Cincinnati the city records 
 of taxable property ; finds that two hundred colored 
 citizens pay taxes on real estate ; that one of them has 
 a property of $26,000 ; another, of $15,000 ; another, of 
 110,000 ; three others have $4,000 each, and so on ; that 
 they have six churches (" W. says that all the colored 
 people attend church " ) ; that they have four schools, 
 with four hundred and fifty children in them ; that fifty 
 of their older children are sent to advanced schools and 
 colleges, at Oberlin and elsewhere ; that they labor un- 
 der many difficulties in getting employment, even when
 
 232 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 having unquestioned qualifications ; that, in spite of 
 these, they maintain a respectable position and repute. 
 A well-conducted hotel was kept by one ; and one, with 
 larger property than those before named, has " the best 
 retail grocery in the city." He gives a list of thirty- 
 six different trades or pursuits in which they are en- 
 gaged. He made like inquiries concerning the colored 
 people of St. Louis, Baltimore, and Philadelphia ; and 
 during all the time of his residence in Boston, and es- 
 pecially after returning there in 1853, he kept himself 
 informed of the resident colored people, and personally 
 acquainted with many of them. In an article in the 
 " Christian Examiner " of September, 1857, he says that 
 he had " taken some pains to examine into the condi- 
 tion of the free negroes in Boston, Philadelphia, Cleve- 
 land, Cincinnati, and other places," and gives the re- 
 sults.^ 
 
 When in Washington, in the winter of 1851, Mr. 
 Clarke sought the society of members of Congress and 
 others, prominent as opponents of slavery and of its 
 rule in national affairs. The house of Mr. Gamaliel 
 Bailey, editor of the "Isational Era," was the usual 
 place of their gathering. " I met there," he says, 
 " Seward, Giddings, Chase, Hale, Julian, Slade, Horace 
 Mann," and others. "These men were unpopular in 
 Congress ; were in a small minority ; their influence 
 was supposed to amount to little." ^ To these meetings 
 also came " other gentlemen of their way of thinking 
 from different parts of the country." It is not difficult 
 to imagine the interest or the importance of these meet- 
 ings, their cheering influence on those attending them, 
 and their salutary bearing on the public counsels. " As 
 the wheel of time revolved, these men came to the 
 summit," he says. Even then the questions of the set- 
 tlement of Kansas and Nebraska were looming up in 
 
 ^ See, also, Anti-Slavery Days, p. 96. 
 2 Anti-Slavery Days, p. 62.
 
 AN TI-SLA VER Y. 233 
 
 the horizon ; questions which, of immediate importance 
 in themselves, were destined to have a far more ex- 
 tended effect as touchstones of men and parties ; ques- 
 tions in which Mr. Clarke himself was preparing to take 
 a deep interest and active part. 
 
 On Whitsunday, June 4, 1854, he preached an em- 
 phatic discourse on the rendition of Anthony Burns to 
 slavery, a deed then just done in Boston with the co- 
 operation of the civil and military powers of the city 
 and State. Its publication was called for, and an edi- 
 tion of two thousand copies Avas printed, followed 
 speedily by two thousand more. In it he said, " I blame 
 to-day the churches and clergy of Boston ; for if they 
 had been faithful to their Master, this thing could 
 not have happened. And especially I blame the Uni- 
 tarian churches, for they have had the especial and 
 rare fortune of having their greatest and best teacher 
 on the side of justice and humanity, and they have 
 fallen away from his teaching and his example. Dr. 
 Channing's writings read to-day as history, not pro- 
 phecy. He announced beforehand, in his clear mind, all 
 that has since come upon us. And yet out of the Uni- 
 tarian churches of Boston have come those who have 
 done the most in this community to lower its moral 
 sense on this subject. The man who voted for the 
 [Fugitive Slave] law at Washington, and many of those 
 who defended and have enforced it at home, were mem- 
 bers of our Unitarian churches." " True," he said, " we 
 have also been represented at Washington by a John 
 Quincy Adams, a John G. Palfrey, a Horace Mann, and a 
 Charles Sumner." He remembers that it is Whitsunday. 
 " Last Friday, Christ was crucified again in the form of 
 the poor negro slave. This morning I feel in my heart 
 that he has arisen from the grave, and that his spirit is 
 poured out on many a mind and heart," for the servants 
 of Christ, he said, Avill everywhere be " speaking with 
 new tongues, as the spirit gives them utterance."
 
 234 DIARY AND COKliESPONDENCE. 
 
 He attended on the 1st of August, 1857, at Abington, 
 Mass., the celebration of the anniversary of emancipa- 
 tion in the British West Indies, and " addressed the 
 meeting," said the "National Anti-Slavery Standard," 
 " in a speech characterized by ability of reasoning and 
 happy illustration, which we give nearly in full." Only 
 a few extracts can be given here. After alluding to 
 the scarcity of holidays in this country, he proceeded : 
 " But the people of New England have found another 
 holiday ; and they have found it on this day, on which 
 we meet to celebrate — what ? To celebrate what never 
 happened in the world before the 1st of August, 1834, 
 namely, the acknowledgment of the fact, by a nation, 
 that it w.as bound by the great laws of right and wrong 
 just as much as individuals are bound by them. That 
 is what we celebrate to-day, and that is worth celebrat- 
 ing. . . . We can learn from that act this : that it is 
 a safe thing to emancipate the slaves of the United 
 States. You know that the constant outcry has been 
 that those who wish to have the slaves emancipated are 
 wishing to have the throats cut of the masters, their 
 wives, and their children ; and you know, too, that 
 when these 800,000 West India slaves became free men 
 there was not a single throat cut, nor the least act of 
 violence committed, throughout the whole of the British 
 possessions. You knoAv this very well, because we have 
 read, over and over again, descriptions of the beautiful 
 solemnity of the peaceful and happy thanksgivings 
 with which these slaves, turned into freemen, welcomed 
 the great boon of liberty." He spoke of the plain prac- 
 tical lessons which that grand act of emancipation had 
 for the United States, and said, " I make two parties 
 in this country, and only two. I do not call them slave- 
 holders and non-slaveholders, because I know that 
 among the slaveholders are some of the most generous 
 and noble souls in the world. I have lived among them ; 
 I have known them ; I know there were men among
 
 AXTI SLAVERY. 235 
 
 them, — and I suppose there are still, — who, while 
 technically and nominally slaveholders, were yet, in the 
 whole influence of heart and life, anything but slave- 
 holders. . . . The two parties which I should make are, 
 those who are doing something against slavery, and 
 those who are not doing anything against slavery. . . . 
 I believe the great influence that is to overthrow slav- 
 ery is Christ and his church. I believe that Christ is 
 present where any two or three meet together to do any 
 act of righteousness, any act of generosity, any act of 
 humanity. I find my church, whether it is called a 
 church or not, wherever I find men with whom I can 
 work in the cause of God on earth, which is the cause 
 of man. That is my church as long as I live. . . . 
 There Christ dwells, my master, my friend, the friend 
 of humanity and of human rights. I believe he is here. 
 ... So, friends, I say go forward ! If you think the 
 dissolution of the Union is the thing to strive for, strive 
 for that. If you think that in any other way you can 
 best labor for the cause of the slave, I will not hinder 
 you, I will help you as well as I can, and, by the bless- 
 ing of God, the day will certainly come when we our- 
 selves, or our children, or our children's children, shall 
 meet in this beautiful grove, hearing the sweet song of 
 these pines over our heads, to celebrate the day, not of 
 West India emancipation, but of the emancipation of 
 the slaves in the United States of America." 
 
 The " Boston Courier," no longer edited by the Hon. 
 Joseph T. Buckingham, censured Mr. Clarke for at- 
 tending this meeting of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery 
 Society, and giving countenance to the disunion Aboli- 
 tionists. He sent a letter to that paper stating, as he 
 had done at the meeting itself, the points in which he 
 differed from the Anti-Slavery Society; and also the 
 points, which he deemed of far more practical impor- 
 tance, of essential agreement; and showing the real 
 danger to be in the policy of concession to the demands 
 of the slave power.
 
 230 DIAEY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Besides sermons in 1855, urging the present need of 
 anti-slavery work ; and, in 1856, on " Clerical Defenses 
 of Slavery " by " prophets who prophesy falsely ; " on 
 " The Demoralization of the North by Slavery ; " and 
 on the duty of anti-slavery voting, we note a published 
 sermon of November 6, 1859, on the " Causes and Con- 
 sequences of the Affair at Harper's Ferry," in which he 
 said : '' Yoli may call John Brown's act madness, but it 
 is the madness of Curtius leaping into the gulf which 
 yawned in the Forum ; the madness of Arnold of Win- 
 kelried gathering into his bosom the deadly sheaf of 
 spears ; the madness of the Three Hundred w^ho went 
 to die at Thermopylae. It is a kind of insanity of which 
 a few specimens are scattered along the course of the 
 human race, and wherever they are found they make 
 the glory of human nature, and give us more faith in 
 God and man." 
 
 Mr. Clarke had formed a high estimate of the integ- 
 rity, sincerity, and moral heroism of John Brown, a 
 feeling which he kept to the end of his life ; while he 
 could not fully approve his violent or warlike acts. His 
 position can be fully apprehended only by reading the 
 whole of this masterly discourse. Had such been the 
 tone of the American pulpit generally, during the long 
 agitation of the question of slavery, the nation would 
 have been saved from many a harm, and very probably 
 from the war itself. A brief abstract of the sermon is 
 all that is here possible. His text was, " Herod feared 
 John, knowing that he was a just man." He says that 
 John Brown's " whole course has been so convincingly 
 conscientious, manly, truthful, and heroic, that his ene- 
 mies have been compelled to honor him. . . . North 
 and South seem united in one opinion and one senti- 
 ment " about him, namely, that " his attempt was un- 
 wise and unwarranted ; " that " the man himself " was 
 to be regarded "a hero."^ 
 
 1 Governor Andrew tad publicly said, "Men may say what they 
 please of John Brown's methods, — John Brown himself was right.'''
 
 ANTI-SLAVERY. 237 
 
 "An attempt has been made," he said, "to ascribe 
 this event to the teaching of the Anti-Slavery party in 
 this country. Well, they are the cause of it, in one 
 sense, just as Samuel Adams and Josiah Quincy, James 
 Otis and Patrick Henr^^ were the cause of the bloodshed 
 at Lexington and Bunker Hill. . . . Whoever opposes 
 tyranny and wrong with words will? often cause a con- 
 flict of deeds to follow. . . . But where rests the re- 
 sponsibility ? Not on those who oppose evil, but on 
 those who maintain and defend it. Therefore, not on 
 anti-slavery teaching, but on pro-slavery teaching, North 
 and South, . . . rests the responsibility of this tragedy." 
 
 The real " causes of this sad affair " are, (1) " slavery 
 itself, especially the newly developed purpose of three 
 hundred thousand slaveholders to force support of slav- 
 ery upon the nation ; " (2) " the false conservatism of the 
 North, , . . laboring steadily to let down the sentiment 
 of freedom, . . . and so giving moral aid and comfort to 
 the slave power ; " (3) " the low condition of the religion 
 of the country. In such a conflict as that between slav- 
 ery and freedom, Christianity organized in churches, 
 embodied in Christian men and women, should have 
 come forward, to speak the truth in love. . . . Unfor- 
 tunately, little of this has been done. . . . We have 
 been taught from a thousand pulpits that man's lower 
 law must be obeyed, and not the law of conscience. On 
 the other hand, when the truth has been uttered, it has 
 not been always uttered in love to the slaveholder, but 
 often in bitterness. ... In saying this, I do not refer 
 to professed Abolitionists alone. . . . John Brown is an 
 Old Testament Christian, . . . such a man as Calvinism 
 produced in the Scotch Covenanters, and in Cromwell's 
 Ironside regiment, . . . with a touch of chivalric devo- 
 tion and inspired enthusiasm such as nerved the arm of 
 the Maid of .Orleans. . . . One consequence of the event 
 will be the arovising of the nation's conscience .... 
 The Herod of slavery fears John Brown, in prison or in 
 tomb, knowing him to be a just man."
 
 238 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Stirring times were at hand. The nation had become 
 far more extensively aroused to the magnitude of the 
 issues involved in the question of slavery than the po- 
 litical leaders were willing to believe. The nomination 
 of Abraham Lincoln had been made in the determina- 
 tion that Southern aggression should at least go no 
 farther ; and thouglitful people hoped confidently, and 
 believed generally, that that would be but the begin- 
 ning of the end. On the eve of the election, Sunday, 
 November 4, 1860, Mr. Clarke gave an address in his 
 church, "crowded largely with voters," on the great 
 issues involved, and urged support of Mr. Lincoln. A 
 few days later it was known that Mr. Lincoln had been 
 elected President by a large majority over the party of 
 slavery, so long in the ascendant. Then came days of 
 intense excitement on the part of the South, as it saw 
 the sceptre departing from its hands ; days of almost 
 equal excitement at the North, through apprehension 
 of what the South would do ; and of readiness, on the 
 part of some prominent Northern leaders, to make the 
 greatest concessions to avert the peril. In a sermon, 
 whose date is not given, but evidently preached at this 
 time, when meetings "to save the Union" were called 
 and held on all sides, Mr. Clarke said : " The object of 
 these union meetings seems to be, not to denounce the 
 spirit of disunion at the South, but the spirit of free- 
 dom at the North. Those who conduct and address 
 them propose, apparently, to pacify the Southern slave- 
 holders, by persuading or compelling Northern citizens 
 to put a stop to all discussion of the subject of slavery. 
 . . . The great danger to the stability and perpetuity 
 of the Union is in the growth of slavery. . . . Slav- 
 ery is the destructive element in our institutions ; and 
 genuine conservatism ought to oppose it always. . . . 
 Slavery is necessarily aggressive. It is conscious that 
 it can only live by extending itself, and therefore it 
 always aims at new conquests. . . . These qualities of
 
 ANTI-SLA VER Y. 239 
 
 slavery have caused, in succession, nullification in South 
 Carolina ; the cruel and faithless robbery of the Indian 
 lands in Georgia ; the expense and misery of the Florida 
 war ; the iniquitous annexation of Texas ; and the still 
 more iniquitous war with Mexico. The founders of our 
 Constitution were all agreed that slavery was soon to 
 come to an end ; but, instead of that, it has been stead- 
 ily extending itself, and is now the controlling element 
 in the policy of the country." 
 
 The annual meeting of the Massachusetts Anti-Slav- 
 ery Society, in January, 1861, occurring at the moment 
 when the political managers were holding these Union 
 meetings, could not be overlooked by them, and they 
 determined to break it up. Accordingly the galleries 
 of Tremont Temple, in Boston, were crowded with law- 
 less and ruffianly men, evidently instructed to act in 
 concert at signals from their leaders. The meeting was 
 opened quietly. President Francis Jackson in the chair. 
 After the usual services Wendell Phillips reported a 
 series of resolutions, largely made up of quotations, in 
 favor of freedom and emancipation, from Daniel Web- 
 ster, Henry Clay, Rev. Dr. Channing, and representa- 
 tives of Georgia in the first American Congress. These 
 being declared before the meeting, for its consideration. 
 Rev. James Freeman Clarke, pastor of the Church of 
 the Disciples, was the first speaker. He said, " They 
 being dead, yet speak ! I am glad to hear a speech from 
 Dr. Channing here this morning. I am glad to hear 
 Daniel Webster speak, as he spoke when he was in his 
 best estate. I am glad to hear Henry Clay speak here 
 to-day, as Henry Clay spoke when in his youth, when 
 he loved freedom, and when his heart beat high in be- 
 half of human liberty. They are gone ; we remain. 
 We are to finish their work. We are here to be faithful 
 to their ideas. What is life worth, what is it good for, 
 if it is not to serve the truth, and to uphold some prin- 
 ciples of truth, justice, and honor ?
 
 240 DIAEY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 " We come here to-day, friends, because the times are 
 dark, and because, in these dark times, men are tr3dng 
 to make them darker by shutting out the eternal lights 
 which come from God's heavens [applause], — because 
 they would substitute for these everlasting lights of 
 justice to all, and freedom for all, some base earth-born 
 swamp-created meteors of mere expediency, — which is 
 not expediency, even for the present hour. [Applause.] 
 I have come here to-day, not hoping to be able to add a 
 word to what all of you, old veterans in the cause of 
 freedom, know already ; but I come to give my simple 
 witness in defense of those everlasting principles. I 
 do not want to hear anything new here to-day. I want 
 to hear the same great truths, which you have been 
 uttering now for twenty-five years, uttered over again 
 to-day in this hall. When I was asked, some time since 
 [six or seven weeks before] to attend the meeting in 
 commemoration of the work of John Brown [applause 
 and hisses], though I reverenced John Brown, though I 
 believed him to be a man in whom truth and justice 
 were incarnated [a voice, '^ Amen," applause, and hisses] 
 so that we beheld them in visible form before our eyes, 
 yet I did not come, and I did not wish to come. I did 
 not think it best to hold that meeting. [Applause.] I 
 did not think it desirable at that time. I said, ' No ; 
 I would rather not attend,' and I did not come. But 
 if I had known what was to happen here that day, I 
 certainly woiild not have stayed away. [Loud applause 
 and some hissing.] If I had supposed, for a moment, 
 that an attempt was to be made, here in Boston, to put 
 down an honest expression of opinion, upon that or 
 upon any other subject, in a meeting of that kind, cer- 
 tainly I never would have hesitated, for a moment, to 
 come here, and stand with those men on this platform. 
 [Cheers and hisses.] Whatever else we can spare here 
 in New England, we cannot do without free speech. 
 [Loud applause.] That lies at the foundation of all
 
 ANTI-SLAVERY. 241 
 
 our rights, of everything that is worth having in the 
 land." 
 
 The noise and tumult now became so great as to 
 make it difficult to speak or to hear. Nevertheless Mr. 
 Clarke, in cool and steady manner, " said all he had in- 
 tended to say." It Avas an eloquent defense both of 
 free speech and of the faithful service which the Anti- 
 Slavery Society had rendered thereto during many past 
 years. " I see no danger," he said, " except from yield- 
 ing up our principles." 
 
 Then came the war. He was not taken by surprise. 
 He had seen its approach. He had remonstrated against 
 that lack of Northern firmness which invited the South 
 to each new act of aggression. His habitual self-pos- 
 session must have had a special joy and gratitude, that 
 his friend, John A. Andrew, at that crisis-hour, was 
 Governor of Massachusetts. We cannot be mistaken 
 in thinking thaf they often conferred together, and 
 that Mr. Clarke's counsel and cooperation were valued 
 by Governor Andrew. 
 
 In the " Examiner " of July, 1861, he writes on " The 
 War," then but newly begun, and filling all hearts with 
 anxiety. Speaking of its causes, he says : " The sys- 
 tem of slavery must now be recognized by all as the 
 origin and fountain of our evils." Briefly he recounts 
 the successive demands, encroachments, and usurpations 
 of slavery in our national affairs, so invariably sub- 
 mitted to by the Northern States. His hopefulness, 
 faith, and forecast of victory, at this early and certainly 
 not reassuring period, should be remembered. " It is 
 our duty at the present time to be full of hope. ... It 
 is the duty of all patriots to resist the new attempts to 
 compromise, to concede, and to surrender principle for 
 the sake of peace. . . . We see in this war that we, as 
 a people, are not what we should be ; we see our want 
 of true life, our need of more generosity, nobleness, 
 magnanimity. . . . God is guiding events still ; they are
 
 242 DIARY AND CORRESFONDENCE. 
 
 moving forward to a better future than lias been seen 
 yet," In that future Mr. Clarke discerns "emancipa- 
 tion and the end of slavery. Thus Christ always comes 
 in the clouds of heaven ; but he comes, and the world 
 advances to its great and perfect destiny." 
 
 On Sunday, April 21, 1861, — the Sunday following 
 the departure of the Sixth Massachusetts Regiment for 
 Washington, in obedience to the first call of President 
 Lincoln for troops, — Mr. Clarke preached on " The 
 State of the Nation." " True," lie said, " the traitors 
 who have had control of the administration for the last 
 four years . . . have left us without money, troops, 
 vessels, or arms ; have laid their plots safely ; and are 
 wholly ready for a conflict for which we are wholly un- 
 prepared. Very likely they will succeed at first. We 
 may be beaten at first ; again and again perhaps de- 
 feated and disgraced. Our disasters will come at the 
 beginning of this war ; theirs are to come by and by." 
 Could the actual facts have been more exactly fore- 
 told ? '' One of two things," said he that day, — " either 
 slavery is to come to an end in this struggle, or else 
 the free and the slave States must agree to separate." 
 But in any event, he concluded, '' slavery is sure to fall ; 
 for it is a sin against God, and a crime against man." 
 This sermon was printed in full in the "National Anti- 
 Slavery Standard " of New York. 
 
 At this time he published, in pamphlet form, a letter, 
 addressed to Hon. Charles Sumner, entitled " Secession, 
 Concession, or Self-Possession — Which ? " the writer, 
 " A Massachusetts Citizen." The following extract 
 gives its key-note : " We can never purchase a perma- 
 nent settlement of the controversy between freedom 
 and slavery but by firm resistance to its encroachments. 
 Every other solution of the difficulty must fail here- 
 after, as it has failed heretofore. Only, the longer the 
 solution is deferred, the worse our position will be." 
 
 From a sermon preached by him in Boston, Septem-
 
 AN TI- SLAVERY. 243 
 
 ber 26, 1862, being the Sunday following President 
 Lincoln's first proclamation relating to slavery, a ser- 
 mon to which he gave the title " The Plagues of Egypt 
 and America," a few extracts must be given : — 
 
 ''The proclamation of Lincoln has been properly 
 called the most important state paper issued in this 
 country since the Declaration of Independence. It 
 fairly and fully commits the government and people 
 to universal freedom. It is not to be taken back again, 
 no matter what happens. I should have been glad if 
 it were made immediate. I should have been glad if 
 put on principles of justice and right, not of mere war 
 necessity. . . . Nevertheless the deed is done. Pro- 
 spective in form, in essence and influence it is immedi- 
 ate. The sword has cut the knot which policy could 
 not untie. No more fear now of any false peace. The 
 South now can never forgive Abraham Lincoln. . , . 
 No more false and treasonable policies at the North. 
 All men must choose their side now. No more deceit- 
 ful compromises. . . . We, at the North, can breathe 
 freely ; we are not obliged any longer to support slav- 
 ery with one hand, while we fight it with the other." 
 
 He shows the parallels of the plagues of Egypt and 
 America with much ingenuity, and the lesson, alike in 
 both cases, namely : " Let my people go, that they may 
 serve me." And it is interesting to note how, at the 
 very outset of the war, he was looking forward to see 
 how " to build the future fair." " There will be a vast 
 deal for us to do, after this war is over, in educating the 
 blacks, in colonizing the slave States with a better so- 
 ciety, in building up good institutions there. ... If 
 this nation rises to a sense of its duty and opportunity, 
 it will become the pole-star of mankind, the leading 
 race of humanity, the christianizing people of the 
 earth." 
 
 He gave striking proof of his interest for the col- 
 ored people, as well as of his regard for justice, in the
 
 244 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 matter of the enlistment of colored troops in this war. 
 " While we paid," he says, " the white troops thirteen 
 dollars a month and clothing, the colored troops re- 
 Qeived but ten dollars, from which three dollars were 
 taken for clothing, leaving but seven dollars for their 
 pay. Governor Andrew felt great indignation at this 
 unjust discrimination. He showed me a letter he had 
 written to the Massachusetts Senators in Congress, re- 
 questing them to urge upon Congress and the President 
 a redress of this inequality. ' I will not rest,' said he 
 to the Senators, 'until this injustice is removed. I will 
 not allow you any rest until it is removed.' I told 
 Governor Andrew that I was going to Washington, and 
 that I would take the letter to Mr. Sumner and Mr. 
 Wilson, and would try to see the Attorney-General, who 
 then was James Speed, the son of my old Louisville 
 friend, Judge John Speed. I was to preach in the hall 
 of the House of Representatives the following Sunday ; 
 and I took occasion to describe in my sermon the char- 
 acter and conduct of those colored troops. I told how 
 the Massachusetts legislature had voted to send money 
 to the colored regiments in South Carolina, to make up 
 the full amount for all the time they had been in the 
 service. These troops had steadily refused the inferior 
 pay, and had gone without pay for some time. The 
 State agents who carried the money explained to the 
 troops that Massachusetts was not willing that they 
 should serve without full pay ; and they were to be told 
 that Governor Andrew was anxious that they should re- 
 ceive the State money. The soldiers consulted among 
 themselves, and one was appointed to reply. He said 
 they thanked the State of Massachusetts, and Governor 
 Andrew, and the gentlemen who had brought the 
 money, but they did not consider themselves as troops 
 of Massachusetts. They were United States soldiers, 
 and would not take the Massachusetts money, nor even 
 the ten dollars offered by Government, though their
 
 .4.V TI-SLA Veb y. 245 
 
 families were suffering for it, until they could have 
 what was justly their due ; meantime, they meant to do 
 their duty just as well as if paid. When I had told 
 that story, I said to the members of Congress in my 
 audience, ' If this had been done by Greeks or Eomans, 
 it would be told in our school books, and our children 
 would have been taught to read it as an example of 
 heroism. But as it is done by colored soldiers, we do 
 not think much of it. Nevertheless, in the sight of hu- 
 manity and of history, I would rather be one of those 
 colored soldiers, doing my duty as a man, and refusing 
 the money till I could get justice with it, than a mem- 
 ber of Congress, receiving my pay regularly, and sitting 
 in my comfortable seat, and not able to muster courage 
 to pass a law to pay those soldiers their just debt.' I 
 supposed," adds Mr. Clarke, " they would be displeased ; 
 but instead of that they applauded." ^ 
 
 The work whieli he and the Church of the Disciples 
 did for the freed people, through the whole period of 
 the war and in the following years, should be at least 
 referred to here. Early relief was sent to them, — sup- 
 plies of whatever was most needed as they entered on 
 the new life of freedom, and teachers, who would not 
 only teach them in matters of useful knowledge, but 
 also carry a Christian sympathy and a true human inter- 
 est in their welfare into their humble homes. 
 
 Still more should it be said, though it is sufficiently 
 obvious, that the source and spring of all Mr. Clarke's 
 labors against slavery were in his Christian belief, in 
 his religious sense of duty. There, in the depths of his 
 nature, was the primal fountain of his early testimony, 
 on slave-tilled soil, against slavery, and of his persistent, 
 brave, and ever hopeful action against it to the end. 
 He once expressed this broad, inclusive idea of duty 
 thus : " I have known very good people, of culture 
 and education, who might have done good in a large 
 ^ Anti-Slavery Days, p. 217.
 
 246 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 circle, but who became very narrow by adopting, as their 
 rule of life, the idea of ' doing the nearest duty.' With 
 this rule," he said, '' they cared only for the circle just 
 about them. The interests of society, of humanity, of 
 the universal Church, of the age, were indifferent to 
 them. They did not care for the cause of truth, peace, 
 freedom, human virtue, human happiness. The suffer- 
 ings of the slave, the prisoner, the insane, the ignorant 
 were not in the sphere of their nearest duties, and so 
 were unheeded. I have seen people of the highest re- 
 finement, ornaments of their own homes, who cared for 
 nothing beyond them, and who might have learned a 
 lesson from the poor negro woman whose heart was in- 
 terested in the missions of her church in India and 
 Burmah, and who sheltered under her roof, at the risk 
 of ruin to herself, the fugitive slave." ^ 
 
 At the dedication of the West Eoxbury Soldiers' 
 Monument, September 14, 1871, he gave the address. 
 In it he described the power with which the National 
 Government had had to contend : " The slave power : an 
 oligarchy of about four hundred thousand slaveholders, 
 owning some four millions of slaves, worth three thou- 
 sand millions of dollars. . . . United by common inter- 
 ests, with the single paramount purpose of maintaining 
 and extending slavery, it ruled the South with a rod of 
 iron, allowing no freedom of speech, of the press, or of 
 the pulpit. By means of this perfect union, it had ob- 
 tained the control of the National Government, and, be- 
 fore 1860, had taken possession of the whole national 
 organization. It annexed Texas in 1845, defeated the 
 Wilmot Proviso in 1846, passed the Fugitive Slave Bill 
 in 1850, repealed the Missouri Compromise in 1854, ob- 
 tained the Dred Scott decision in 1857. It controlled 
 both Houses of Congress, possessed the Executive, and 
 directed the decisions of the Judiciary ; so holding in 
 its hand the army and navy of the Union. 
 
 1 Christian RepMer, October 31. 1889. Selections from his MSS.
 
 AX Tl-SLA VER Y. 247 
 
 " But, on the other side, there had grown up, with 
 wonderful rapidity, a mighty opposing force. ... It 
 was the anti-shivery opinion of the North, which had 
 been opposed first by mobs, then by ridicule, lastly by 
 arguments, but had conquered them all. As Herod the 
 king, in the midst of his power and glory, feared John 
 the Baptist, ' knowing that he was a just man,' so the 
 slave power, which feared nothing else, feared the anti- 
 slavery platform. William Lloyd Garrison might have 
 used the words of Pope, and said : — 
 
 ' Yes, I am proud ; I must be proud to see 
 Men, not afraid of God, afraid of me.' " 
 
 And in the same connection he spoke of that wonderful 
 story of Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, — " Uncle Tom's 
 Cabin," — " inspired by genius and profound convic- 
 tion," which did so much to stir and concentrate the 
 national enthusiasm and purpose. He rendered merited 
 tribute to the services of West Roxbury (the place of 
 his own residence) during the war, and referred to a 
 personal contribution of his own in words we cannot 
 omit : '' In this town was recruited and drilled one of 
 the finest of the Massachusetts regiments. I happened 
 to be the owner of Brook Farm in 1861 ; and when the 
 Second Massachusetts was about to be organized, I of- 
 fered it to my friend Morris Copeland, quartermaster of 
 that regiment, and it was accepted. ... I never raised 
 much of a crop' upon it before ; but in 1861 it bore the 
 greatest crop of any farm in Massachusetts, in the cour- 
 age, devotion, and military renown of the officers and 
 men of that noble regiment." 
 
 In this address he expressed, as upon all other fitting 
 occasions, his admiration of the character, ability, and 
 extraordinary services of Abraham Lincoln, President 
 during the entire period of the war, — a providential 
 man. 
 
 In March, 1873, with other friends of Mr. Garrison,
 
 248 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Mr. Clarke addressed a letter to that gentleman, asking 
 him to write, for publication, the history of his life, — 
 a matter, they say, which they have very much at 
 heart, and which they urge " both on public and private 
 considerations," and as a much-needed " example of the 
 genuine happiness and true success of a life devoted to 
 a great and unselfish purpose." ^ 
 
 In the " North American Review " of January, 1875, 
 is an article by Mr. Clarke, which may well be consulted 
 by those who desire to learn his position and course in 
 relation to slavery, and the spirit in which he opposed 
 it ; and by any others seeking a condensed history of 
 the origin and growth of slavery in this country, of its 
 attempt to obtain supreme power, and of its ultimate 
 overthrow. It takes Hon. Henry Wilson's " History of 
 the Rise and Fall of the Slave Power " as its text. The 
 most striking feature of the article is an account of the 
 four days' contest in Congress, in February, 1836, for 
 the " right of petition ; " when John Quincy Adams 
 met, single-handed, the representatives of slavery, and 
 by his coolness, intrepidity, and force of intellect, com- 
 pletely and signally defeated them all. It was a mem- 
 orable chapter of the national history ; and Mr. Clarke 
 relates it with spirit and interest. 
 
 Early in 1883, Mr. Clarke gave, in his church in Bos- 
 ton, a course of popular lectures on the " Anti-Slavery 
 Conflict in the United States," which were very largely 
 attended. These lectures were published in 1884, con- 
 stituting the volume entitled " Anti-Slavery Days," to 
 which frequent reference is made in this chapter, 
 
 Mr. Clarke Avas never a member of the Anti-Slavery 
 Society ; not because principled against associated ac- 
 tion, for he was a member of other societies, and held 
 ofiicial position in them. Nor could it have been be- 
 cause of any odium which attached to such membership 
 in the minds of men determined to tolerate no inter- 
 ^ Life of Mr. Garrison, vol. iv. p. 257.
 
 ANTl SLAVERY. 240 
 
 ference, as they termed it, with the subject of slavery. 
 That would have had little weight with him. He was 
 for many years au active member, and, from 1871 to 
 1878, the president, of the Massachusetts Woman Suf- 
 frage Association, when it had least favor in the pub- 
 lic mind. The reason, doubtless, was that he could 
 not fully identify himself with the Anti-Slavery Soci- 
 ety. Its course was probably too distinctly aggressive 
 to meet either his philosophy or his taste. It paid too 
 little regard to the exceptional cases. It was earnest 
 and incisive, while he sought to be calm and deliberate. 
 We find sufficient explanation of his course in the fact 
 that, during the years of his early interest in the sub- 
 ject, he misconceived the character and aim of the Anti- 
 Slavery Society, as he himself says ; ^ and in the un- 
 questionable fact that, even when understanding that 
 society better, so as to cooperate with them on many 
 occasions, he still felt that, as preacher and writer, he 
 had a work of his own to do, Avhich he could more 
 effectively do while responsible for that, and that alone. 
 Few men, except the most devoted members of the 
 Anti-Slavery Society, gave more time, thought, and 
 labor to the overthrow of slavery than Mr. Clarke did. 
 Early impressed with the sense of slavery's transcend- 
 ent evils and wrong, steadily growing in the conviction 
 that he had a duty in the case not to be put by, he 
 never retrograded, or grew cold. How to overcome and 
 terminate slavery was an uppermost thought with him, 
 a problem seldom out of sight. He accepted new light ; 
 he corrected mistaken judgments. During the long 
 days of the Anti-Slavery Society's effort to stir a 
 national feeling and conscience for the three millions 
 held in slavery by the Nation's united power, and 
 when every attempt to get the ministers and churches 
 of Boston, of all denominations, to give a helping hand 
 almost invariably ended in a refusal, Mr. Clarke did not 
 
 1 Anti-Slavery Days, p. 22.
 
 250 DIAliY AXD COBBESPONDENCE. 
 
 refuse. It was known that, on some points, he differed 
 with the society. That did not prevent their asking 
 his aid again and again ; nor him from giving it. He 
 knew that he would be as free, on the platform of the 
 Anti-Slavery Society, to express dissent where he dif- 
 fered as to join in advocacy of the patriotic and Chris- 
 tian principles which were the basis of that society's 
 action. And so he did not stand aloof from the Aboli- 
 tionists. He felt himself to be at one with their idea 
 and purpose. They gladly welcomed him when he 
 came among them ; and he came without concealment 
 and without compromise. He attended their meetings 
 repeatedly, and made there his strong appeals for anti- 
 slavery action. The members of the Anti-Slavery So- 
 ciety were little concerned with the matter of nominal 
 membership, when one gave evidence of a heart right, a 
 conscience alive, and an eye single to the great cause of 
 freedom and justice. That it was so with Mr. Clarke, 
 one who himself was a constant, adhering member of the 
 Anti-Slavery Society is well assured, and gladly affirms. 
 With an absolute steadfastness he put his heart and 
 hand to every recognized and approved weapon against 
 slavery, until it met its doom. And thus he spoke, 
 when the work was done : " Slavery went down in that 
 dreadful conflict, never to rise again. In a single gen- 
 eration, and in the lifetime of the chief agitator himself, 
 this vast revolution was accomplished. Never in hu- 
 man history has there been such an example of the 
 power of conscience in gaining a victory over worldly 
 interest ; and it ought to be an encouragement forever, 
 for all who contend for lowly right against triumphant 
 wrong, for unpopular truth against fashion, prejudice, 
 and power." ^ 
 
 1 Anti-Slavery Days, p. 10.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE UNITARIAN CHURCH. 
 
 The reader has already seen that the constitution of 
 Mr. Clarke's mind enabled him to put himself readily 
 in the place of a person with whom he was carrying on 
 a controversy. He was of a social nature, and indeed 
 believed in the cooperation of many men. He worked 
 cheerfully and happily with others, probably because 
 he did not antagonize them. The diary, therefore, is 
 full, as the remembrances of his friends are full, of the 
 numerous occasions when he was present at gatherings 
 of social, reformatory, and political parties. He gave 
 much time to these different interests, but it was time 
 which all told in preparation for the pulpit. It might 
 be added that he sometimes had a longing for a wider 
 field. I remember that in the year 1857, when we be- 
 longed to the New England Emigrant Aid Company, 
 and were greatly interested in the fortunes of the Ger- 
 man colony established by the Prince de Solms in 
 southwestern Texas, he said to me cordially, " Let us 
 both go out into that country, and spend the rest of our 
 lives in doing something that we can see when it is 
 done, so that we shall know what our mark on the 
 world is, as Winthrop knew when his life was ended 
 here." I have sometimes been sorry that we did not 
 do so. Certainly he would have been an admirable 
 leader in any such enterprise. 
 
 He had gone to Louisville as a missionary preacher. 
 With his friends, William G. Eliot and Ephraim Pea- 
 body, he had established the '•' Western Messenger " as
 
 252 DIAKY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 a literary organ Avhich should give them an opportu- 
 nity, once a month, to proclaim their views. He never 
 regretted his work there ; and to the end of his life he 
 was found active in all efforts for giving breadth and 
 depth to the religious life of "the West," whatever 
 region might be called by that word of changing mean- 
 ing. But he returned to Boston with the feeling that 
 the Unitarian Church needed more spiritual life and 
 more heat in the region of its central activity.^ And, 
 without finding fault with anybody else, he had under- 
 taken, in the formation of the Church of the Disciples 
 at Boston, to show his " Ideal Church." ^ 
 
 I have already said that his appearance in the little 
 circle of Boston churches was not welcomed with en- 
 thusiasm by all the ministers of those churches. But 
 by the churches of New England, inside the Unitarian 
 communion and outside, he was cordially received wher- 
 ever he was known ; and before long this was true of 
 Boston also. For the Unitarian leaders had found out 
 that their work was not to proclaim a new theology, 
 but to lift religion to a higher plane ; and in ail the 
 churches that were alive, laymen and ministers were 
 going about that business. For ten or fifteen years be- 
 fore the Civil War, the most important questions of 
 social life were under general discussion in that region, 
 and men and women had to make up their own minds 
 
 1 I remember, many years ago, Dr. Channing expected and hoped 
 for just such a revival. I made a short visit to him at Newport, 
 and he spent all the summer day sayings, " When is more life to 
 come among- Unitarians ? Is life to come from Camhridj^e ? I hope 
 for life from it. I don't despair of Cambridge." I remember the 
 dear, good man, before he bade us goodnight, kneeled down, and 
 prayed still for the same thing, — that the Father of all would send 
 more life into our hearts, and wake us up to the truths of the living 
 God. — Mr. Clarke's Spaech at the Annual Meeting of the American 
 Unitarian Association, May, 18G6. 
 
 2 At about the time, as may be observed, that Mr. William Ward 
 amazed England by publishing his " Ideal Church."
 
 THE UNITARIAN CHURCH. 253 
 
 as to their personal duty in the matter of slavery. 
 Whatever judgment may be passed on the courage or 
 decision of the church in its other communions, the 
 American free lances did not, on the whole, fail in the 
 great appeal ; and with the free lances, in practice, must 
 the Unitarian Church always be classified. In such, 
 questions as came up between the annexation of Texas 
 in 18-45 and the firing on Sumter in 1861, men and 
 women were indifferent to renewed threshings of the 
 old straw of theology or criticism, and it would have 
 been impossible to re-awaken an interest in discussions 
 of foreknowledge, election, the fall of man, and vica- 
 rious atonement. Indeed, the leaders of Orthodoxy had 
 shown their wisdom by declining further controversy 
 on such themes. 
 
 Mr. Clarke's hope, on returning from Louisville, was 
 tliat the Unitarian life, as presented with that eager- 
 ness, tenderness, and faith of which he e.nd his friends 
 were conscious, would win the sympathy of evangelical 
 believers, and that it would prove that the gulf was 
 not, after all, so wide between a free theology and that 
 which still held to the Calvinistic formulas manu- 
 factured for New England churches in the days of 
 Whitefield. In the early days of the Church of the 
 Disciples, there were advances made by him towards 
 those whom New England calls the " Orthodox," which, 
 if they had been wise, they would have received more 
 cordially than they did. I have already mentioned that 
 Eev. Edward N. Kirk, of the Mount Vernon Church, 
 preached in Mr. Clarke's pulpit one Sunday.^ To Mr. 
 Clarke's mind, the invitation to do so simply indicated 
 the same breadth and good faith which invited the 
 
 ' Readers in other sections of the countrj' will hardly understand 
 that not ten instances have occurred in sixty years when an " Evan- 
 gelical" minister of a Boston church has spoken in a " Liberal " pul- 
 pit in that city, and not five when a minister of a " Liberal " church 
 has spoken in an " Evangelical " pulpit.
 
 254 DIAKY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 heretic Theodore Parker to preach there at another time. 
 
 But to the xjop^ilar mind of that little company who 
 cared for such things, the invitation to preach meant 
 a coquetry with Orthodoxy, for Mr. Kirk was perhaps 
 the most distinguished preacher of the self-called Evan- 
 gelical school of the place and time. He would not, in 
 his wildest dreams, have thought of asking Mr. Clarke 
 to preach in his pulpit. 
 
 In the happy freedom of American life, there is but 
 little sectarianism outside of the pulpit and of the 
 denominational newspapers. So soon, therefore, as Mr. 
 Clarke began to print his books and his sermons, they 
 found their way right and left, and eventually they 
 were read more widely among people who knew little 
 about the Unitarian Church than among those who 
 were enrolled in its communion. 
 
 The Unitarian Church itself, so soon as it was re- 
 lieved from the ungracious task of controversy as to 
 the text of Scripture, was in all quarters rising to un- 
 derstand its true position, as the " Church of the Holy 
 Spirit." In practice its business is to do what it can to 
 bring in the kingdom of God. To find out how that 
 should be done, each child of God must look for His 
 direction and listen to His voice, sure that the pure in 
 heart will see Him, and that He is not far from any of 
 them. Wherever they find help for such communion 
 with God, or for such duty to man, it is their busi- 
 ness to seek it. This may be in Thomas a Kempis ; it 
 may be in Kant's Critique ; it may be under the stars, 
 on Ben Nevis ; it may be in putting up the widow Fla- 
 herty's stove. It might be in reading the Greek trag- 
 edies ; it might be in work over the compound micro- 
 scope ; it might be in the battles of the Abolitionist 
 platform ; it might be in listening to the Ave Maria, in 
 the Sistine Chapel. The Unitarian Church was finding 
 out that it was not a '' sect " or " denomination," and 
 never could he ; but that it was in accord with all 
 children of God who were seeking him anywhere.
 
 THE UNITARIAN CHURCH. 255 
 
 In Boston, its ministers had worried themselves with 
 the question, already alluded to, whether Theodore 
 Parker, with his iconoelasms, could be received into 
 this wide communion of the sons of God. And they 
 undertook to accentuate their disapproval of his doc- 
 trine of miracles by deciding not to invite him to preach 
 the Thursday lecture. This was given by different 
 clergymen, and was attended by the ministers who had 
 assembled for their weekly club, and by a few others, 
 the larger proportion being women. There were often 
 not more than fifty present, though, if the preacher 
 were especially attractive, there might be from three to 
 five hundred. This was the only public sentence which 
 could be inflicted on the preacher who afterwards called 
 himself the minister of the " Twenty-eighth Congrega- 
 tional Society." For all Unitarian ministers served 
 pure Congregational churches. And, in the true Con- 
 gregational order, no church can make a creed or cove- 
 nant for any church but itself, or in any way enforce 
 one. Mr. Clarke marked his dissent from the counsels 
 of his seniors by exchanging pulpit services, as has 
 been said, with Mr. Parker. By the people at large his 
 attitude was never misunderstood. It was seen that he 
 was practically standing for that which he had always 
 maintained theoretically, — the position of catholic 
 freedom. Between himself and Mr. Parker there was 
 an entire understanding, and each had confidence in the 
 other's sincerity. Their close connection in political 
 matters, particularly on the anti-slavery platform, often 
 brought them together. But each of them knew that 
 in the pulpit neither would make the same proclama- 
 tion as the other. 
 
 Speaking roughly, the period of his residence in 
 Meadville, while he was recovering his health, marks 
 the division line between his work as the minister of the 
 Church of the Disciples alone and his work as a leader of 
 the Unitarian Church in America. The reader has seen
 
 256 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 how much he did, in a literary Avay, in those years at 
 Meadville ; and from that time forward he is to be 
 spoken of as a man of letters. In the proper place I 
 will put as nearly complete a list of his publications as 
 we have been able to obtain. It will be seen how many 
 of them belong to these years of what one calls retire- 
 ment at Meadville. Their publication followed rapidly, 
 and now he begins to be known throughout the country. 
 '* The Doctrine of Prayer " was circulated widely 
 among thoughtful people of all communions, and was 
 read with such interest that many were moved to 
 write personally to the author. This gave to him the 
 position he was well adapted to fill, of mediating be- 
 tween different communions, and of showing to each 
 what were the merits of the other. It was a good thing 
 for us (of the Unitarian Church) that we had a man 
 who brought us and the Orthodox people nearer to 
 each other, and there were few among us in whom 
 the Orthodox had the same confidence that they had in 
 him. He understood the language in which the Evan- 
 gelical churches speak as few Unitarians do, and was 
 indeed able to speak it himself with perfect sincerity. 
 His nature was so thoroughly poetical that he knew 
 what was meant as a poetical expression ; and he did 
 not hold down a strain of Dr. Doddridge or an ejacula- 
 tion of Dr. Finney to its literal and grammatical mean- 
 ing. " The Truths and Errors of Orthodoxy " was a 
 second book which did great good in showing to earnest 
 persons, on both sides of the imagined gulf between the 
 Liberal and the Evangelical churches, that it was not 
 very much of a gulf after all. Indeed, wherever people 
 read his books, they found out, what may be regarded as 
 a general truth, that most intelligent Christians, so far 
 as their everyday religion goes, are in practical agree- 
 ment, though probably without knowing it. When they 
 come to state occasions, and to the full-dress uniform 
 of established creeds and confessions, they appear, of 
 course, in a different array.
 
 THE UNITARIAN CllUIiClI. 257 
 
 He rightly ai)prelieiuled the need and the determina- 
 tion of the Unitarian Church in the region in which he 
 was brought up. ' This was made clear enough by every 
 change in its pulpit in the ten years after he came to 
 Boston from Louisville. In place of the ethical, criti- 
 cal, and analytical preaching of the past generation, 
 came in such preaching as that of Ephraim Peabody, 
 F. D. Huntington, J. I. T. Coolidge, S. H. Winkley, 
 Starr King, Frederic T. Gray, and E. C. Waterston, 
 No one who heard either of these preachers ventured to 
 say that the Unitarian pulpit was cold or hard in its 
 utterances. Mr. Huntington and Mr. Coolidge found, 
 as they thought, the working forces of the Unitarian 
 Church unworthy of their missionary eagerness, and 
 they were unwilling to be compromised by the latitudi- 
 narianism inevitable in a communion which has no 
 creed. They left the Unitarian Church, therefore, for 
 the Protestant Episcopal Church, which they have ever 
 since adorned. Starr King, in 1860, went to California, 
 where, in 1864, he died, as a soldier might die in battle. 
 Mr. Peabody and Mr. Gray were called to higher serv- 
 ice in the very prime of human life. With all of these 
 ministers, as with Mr. Winkley and Mr. Waterston, 
 Mr. Clarke always held relations of personal friendship. 
 And if any impression has been given that at the out- 
 set the Church of the Disciples seemed an intruder 
 among its decorous fraternity of the older Boston 
 churches of the Liberal communion, the reader should 
 understand that nothing was needed but a knowledge of 
 its activity and devotion, and an acquaintance with its 
 earnest and catholic minister, to remove every petty 
 jealousy which watched its birth. 
 
 He became a director in the Unitarian Association in 
 May, 1845. This association is at once the Missionary 
 Board and the Publishing Board of the American Uni- 
 tarian Church. Its activities then were very small 
 compared with what they are now. Such as they were,
 
 258 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 they were quickened and helped forward by his good 
 sense and energy. And then, as always, he had at heart 
 the interests of the divinity school at Meadville, and 
 the increase of the number of liberal pulpits in the 
 West. 
 
 At the meeting of the Unitarian Association in 1859, 
 a plan which he had himself favored was brought for- 
 ward, by which the general secretary of that association 
 should work without salary, and the only salaried officer 
 should be an office clerk. It was understood, when this 
 plan was proposed, that Mr. Clarke should be the gen- 
 eral secretary who was to serve on these terms. The 
 association rejected the plan, however, and chose him 
 general secretary, fixing the salary at not less than two 
 thousand nor more than three thousand dollars a year, 
 including his traveling expenses. After this vote was 
 passed, Mr. Clarke was elected. He says in the next 
 annual report that had he been present he would have 
 declined the office ; but he decided to accept it for a 
 year. He made it a condition, however, that he should 
 not resign the pastoral care of his own church, and that 
 he should be allowed to preach at home at least one 
 Sunday in every month. Upon these conditions, Avhich 
 were cheerfully acceded to by the executive committee, 
 he endeavored to fulfill during a year the duties of the 
 office. Instead of two or three thousand dollars, he 
 thought it right to take in all twelve hundred dollars. 
 But the result of the year's experience with him was to 
 confirm, on the whole, his opinion in favor of the pro- 
 posal which was rejected the previous year. 
 
 The association, however, did not return to that plan, 
 but retained his services, by agreeing that while he was 
 still to perform the home duty he need leave his own 
 pulpit but one Sunday in every month. The truth was, 
 that the wisdom of his administration and the inspira- 
 tion which he gave were widely felt. His conduct of 
 the " Monthly Journal," of which he wrote the greater
 
 THE UNlTAHIAy CHVMCU. 259 
 
 part himself, brought him into relation with many of 
 the most intelligent persons in all the churches; and 
 whoever wishes to study his work, either as a minister 
 or as a theologian, will do well to possess himself of 
 the volumes of that journal which he edited. 
 
 FROM THE " MONTHLY JOURNAL " FOR AUGUST, 1860. 
 
 Having just returned from a tour in which we preached 
 in Cincinnati and Pittsburgh, and attended the com- 
 mencements at Antioch and Meadville, we would like 
 to give the readers of the " Monthly Journal " a brief 
 account of a few of our observations. 
 
 Our annual May meetings were over. Mr. Calthrop 
 was ordained at Marblehead ; a few farewell words to 
 Theodore Parker had been spoken ; and, traveling-bag 
 in hand, we departed for Cincinnati. 
 
 I wish I could magnetize all the readers of the 
 " Monthly Journal " with the electric life of the great 
 West. While the influence is yet strong within me I 
 would communicate something of the strange power 
 which comes to us from that surging, rushing flood of 
 human activity. By it we are lifted above mere forms 
 and conventional barriers ; we communicate more freely, 
 soul with soul. The weight of years and of cares falls 
 from us as we descend the Alleghanies. . . . 
 
 There is no way to get rid of our ignorance and nar- 
 rowness but by going to see other parts of the country 
 with our own eyes. All the union meetings ever held 
 do not do half as much to preserve the Unibn as a single 
 railroad. Go and see. Look with your own eyes at the 
 marvelous life, ever flowing forward, of this bit of 
 Anglo-Saxondom. . . . 
 
 From 1833 to 1840, I used to travel some three thou- 
 sand miles every year, mostly by steamboat and stage- 
 coach. On the rivers and lakes we went by steamboat ; 
 but we traversed Ohio, Kentucky, Illinois, Pennsylvania, 
 Virginia, and New York by stage-coach. For six or
 
 260 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 seven days together I have ridden in a stage-coach with 
 the same party of travelers. I often crossed the Alle- 
 ghanies in Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia in the 
 old and slow stage-coach ; sometimes walking for hours 
 in advance of the carriage ; sometimes crossing the sum- 
 mits at midnight, when they were covered with ice and 
 snow ; sometimes, in the early dawn of a summer morn- 
 ing, looking abroad from a high mountain water-shed, 
 over a vast wilderness of forest, here and there spotted 
 with little green farm-openings, through which the 
 white road wandered on to the far horizon. Or some- 
 times we would, at the same hour, see the morning star 
 above us in the clear, deep sky ; while, below, the 
 whole valley would be full of white mist, lying like a 
 vast lake, through whose surface the hilltops came up 
 as islands. And oh, what singular combinations of trav- 
 elers ! merchants going East to buy goods ; Methodist 
 ministers going to their stations ; gamblers from Texas ; 
 river pilots ; drovers returning home after selling their 
 cattle ; atheists, Presbyterians, shoulder-hitters, Eo- 
 man Catholic priests ; women going to look for runa- 
 way husbands ; men with bowie-knives sticking out of 
 their jackets ; men with Bibles in their pockets. But, 
 wild and heterogeneous as our party often was, we usu- 
 ally became interested in each other after a day or two ; 
 and it is strange how sorry we were to part even with 
 our whiskey-drinking and blaspheming companions. . . . 
 The scholastics disputed concerning this question : 
 Whether, when angels have occasion to go from one 
 place to another, they are obliged to go through the in- 
 termediate spaces. However it ma}' be with angels, it 
 is certainly true concerning railway travelers that they 
 are not in any intermediate places while going from 
 Dan to Beersheba. They alight, like birds, at one 
 point, then at another ; all between goes for nothing. 
 
 "All beside was empty waste ; 
 All was picture as he passed."
 
 THE UXITAKIAN CHURCH. 261 
 
 Thus, leaving Boston, I alighted at New York, then at 
 Cleveland, then at Cincinnati, then at Antioch College, 
 then at Pittsburgh, and lastly at Meadville. . . , 
 
 Leaving the Queen City at seven on Tuesday morn- 
 ing, we reached, at ten o'clock, the scene already made 
 famous through the labors of Horace Mann. Here we 
 found Dr. Bellows ; Rev. Nathaniel Hall, of Dorches- 
 ter ; Father Taylor ; Mr. Artemus Carter, of Chicago ; 
 Dr. Hosmer ; Mr. Hosea, of Cincinnati ; John Phillips ; 
 and other old friends of the institution. 
 
 On Commencement Day we heard the parts of twenty- 
 eight graduates, of whom a number were young ladies. 
 All the parts were instinct with high aims and earnest 
 purpose. The soul of Horace Mann could be traced 
 through all. These young men and women contemplated 
 life as a scene of duty, where responsibilities awaited 
 them, great laws were to be obeyed, and a grave work was 
 to be done. Not a tone or word approaching to frivolity 
 fell from their lips. The young girls, with modest self- 
 possession, sweet and hopeful as a summer's morning, 
 gave a graceful variety to the aspect of a Commence- 
 ment platform. 
 
 Some people fear the consequences of having young 
 men and young women taught together in the same col- 
 lege ; but these fears are removed by a short observa- 
 tion of the practical working of the system. . . . No 
 one at Antioch observes any bad consequences to arise 
 from this communion of young men and young women 
 in study. They look at each other, not in the misty 
 light of fanciful attraction, but in the plain and com- 
 monplace relation of fellow-students, — reciting al- 
 gebra, Virgil, and Horace in common, making common 
 blunders in Greek, and equally perplexed by conic sec- 
 tions. . . . 
 
 I held a kind of three days' meeting in Pittsburgh, 
 preaching on Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, to congrega- 
 tions which filled the little hall where service was held.
 
 262 DIARY AND CORHESPOXDEXCE. 
 
 From Pittsburgh I went, via Cleveland, to Meadville, 
 to be present at the Commencement of the theological 
 school. There also I found Father Taylor and Dr. 
 Bellows, and in their genial and glad society realized 
 again how great a blessing there is in Christian fellow- 
 shi}:). To the earnest young men about to leave the 
 theological school these brethren spoke words of coun- 
 sel and good cheer. We found at Meadville the same 
 tone of strong, manly purpose as at Antioch. There 
 was no "suspense of faith" perceptible there. 
 
 TO E. E. HALE. 
 
 William H. Channing once said of Z., " What shall 
 be done with an artist who is not an artist ? " So 
 I say, " What shall be done with a minister who is not 
 a minister ? " My most difficult experiences are caused 
 by being obliged to see and to hear from so many 
 who wish for work and cannot get it, and for whom I 
 feel the greatest sympathy. Our friend of whom you 
 write is elegant, refined, able to criticise a novel, a 
 poem, or a picture, well acquainted with the best opera 
 music, but cannot succeed in preaching a Christian ser- 
 mon so as to take hold of human hearts and minds. 
 
 In like manner I had a reproachful letter two days 
 since from Y., inquiring why I did not give a man like 
 him, with his large culture and thorough discipline of 
 mind, some work to do ? He has ample culture and 
 discipline, and ten times the knowledge which the 
 young men just out of the divinity school have, but if 
 he does not get preaching it is evident that he cannot 
 preach. 
 
 As to the West : a man who cannot succeed here is 
 sure not to succeed there. Such a man as our friend 
 X. is the very last man for the West. F. is worth ten 
 of him ; Augustus Staples is worth twenty. Essays 
 on " the True, the Beautiful, and the Good " are in no 
 demand out of the vicinity of Boston.
 
 THE UyiTAlilAN CHUHCH. 263 
 
 But certainly there is a place for every one. This is 
 my unwavering conviction. But two things are neces- 
 sary : (1) to find the right place ; (2) to be willing to 
 go to it, and to work in it. 
 
 In the earlier days, — at the instance of Henry 
 Ware, Jr., Dr. Gannett, and other leaders, — the habit 
 had been formed among the Unitarians of holding what 
 they called the " Autumnal Convention." It was a 
 queer type of the stateliness of their movement, as it 
 then existed, that this title was chosen, where the 
 Friends would have said " the Yearly Meeting." ^ Al- 
 ready, at the "Autumnal Convention" of 1863, Mr. 
 Clarke had made an address, which is reported in the 
 " Monthly Journal " for November of that year. He 
 spoke of the inconsistency between our historic position 
 and traditions as a denomination and our convictions ; 
 "our convictions have always been progressive, our 
 traditions tame, timid, and conservative. . . . Now the 
 denomination is awakened. Dr. Bellows, by his hercu- 
 lean labors ; Dr. Eliot, our dear conservative ; Hosmer, 
 who left his peaceful home in the Connecticut Valley 
 to bear the private's gun on his shoulder through the 
 wearisome campaigns ; Conant, whose plaintive voice, 
 calling out at night on that dreadful battle-field, 'Are 
 there any wounded here ? ' still rings in our ears ; 
 Knapp, and other heai'ty laborers, have thoroughly 
 aroused it. See to it that it does not go to sleep again. 
 Now let everything that can be done to help the human 
 race be done. Don't stop to criticise, but work.'" 
 
 It will be more convenient to speak of his work dur- 
 ing the war in another chapter. Here it may be said 
 that the labors of such men, with the Sanitary Commis- 
 sion and in other agencies connected Avith the hospital 
 and the army, had a great effect in bringing about in 
 the Unitariaii Church a higher sense of its responsibili- 
 
 ^ A good essay might be written on The Unitarian Language.
 
 264 DIABY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 ties in the matter of missionary work. Under the lead 
 of Dr. Bellows, at a special meeting of the Unitarian 
 Association, in December, 1864, in Hollis Street Church 
 in Boston, measures were taken which led to the estab- 
 lishment, in April, 1865, of a National Conference of 
 Unitarian and other Christian churches. From that 
 time this National Conference has been the representa- 
 tive body of the Unitarian Church of America. 
 
 In the preliminary arrangements for this conference, 
 and in the formation of its constitution, Mr. Clarke was 
 a central actor. When, on the 4th of April, I860, the 
 delegates to a national Unitarian convention met in 
 the city of New York, he gave the first address ever de- 
 livered to the united body. His appointment to give 
 this address indicated the place which he had gained in 
 the affection and confidence of the denomination. The 
 delegates, lay and clerical, were men of widely different 
 opinions, and the existence of right and left wings in 
 the body was perfectly well known. But in Mr. Clarke 
 each side had confidence. In most critical issues he 
 had shown his readiness to give freedom to the boldest 
 inquirer, and yet the character of his own writing had 
 given him especial favor, not only among Orthodox 
 Unitarians, but among churches Avhich would hardly 
 grant the Christianity of any other Unitarian. 
 
 The sermon itself, which was published at once, met 
 the occasion entirely. It was the key-note of the har- 
 monious convention which followed. 
 
 Mr. Clarke was chosen a member of the National 
 Council formed by this convention, and remained an 
 active member of that body as long as he could do so 
 under the constitution which formed it. 
 
 EXTRACT FROM THE CONVENTION SERMON, 
 
 Christian brethren, members of the National Uni- 
 tarian Convention, why have we thus come together? 
 Have we come together as Unitarians for the pleasure
 
 THE UXITAEJAN CHURCH. 265 
 
 of standing alone and of being called heretics ? Are we 
 Unitarians because we like being shut out from the 
 sympathy of the church ? No. We often long for the 
 larger communion of the universal church. Nor do we 
 stand here as Unitarians because we cannot see how 
 much of truth and of good there is in the churches from 
 which we differ. 
 
 We, too, desire to have our share in that deeper life 
 born of God, coming mostly through the mediation of 
 Jesus of Nazareth, which changes duty into love, work 
 into freedom, and puts the spirit into the heart whereby 
 we call God our Father. There is no rapture of piety 
 in the Catholic or Protestant church, no mystic ecstasy, 
 no inspired insight in any of the great cloud of wit- 
 nesses belonging to the Christian family in heaven and 
 earth, but we humbly acknowledge its sweetness and 
 strength, and long to appropriate it in our own life. 
 We are not Unitarians because we do not see the good 
 and truth there is in Orthodoxy. 
 
 But we are Unitarians, we are willing to be called 
 heretics, because we see a work to be done which we 
 ought to do. Our very existence, indeed, does good as 
 a standing protest against that exclusive spirit which 
 makes essentials out of matters of form and matters of 
 opinion. 
 
 This convention is of Unitarians ; and we accept as 
 Unitarian Christians all who claim that name. We do 
 not make ourselves responsible for each other's opin- 
 ions. Probably we differ very widely from each other 
 in many points of belief. The question is. Can we unite 
 together in Christian work ? We can work Avith Athe- 
 ists in the Sanitary Commission, to help the wovmded 
 and dying. We can work with Deists in the Temper- 
 ance Society, to save our brethren from ruin and de- 
 spair. We can work with slaveholders and defenders 
 of slavery in the hospitals, with Eoman Catholics in 
 the Preedraan's Aid Society, with Calvinists on the
 
 2U0 DIARY AND COliliESPONDESCE. 
 
 school-conuuittee. We do not compromise our faith in 
 Theism, Christianity, Anti-slavery, rrotestantism, or 
 Unitarianism by so doing. And so if some of our 
 brethren here are Naturalists ; if they disbelieve mir- 
 acles ; if they carry their criticism on the iS'ew Testa- 
 ment farther than I do ; so long as we have work to do 
 in which we agree, we can cordially unite. So long as 
 they wish to bring men to God by the teaching and life 
 of Jesus, let us be glad to cooperate, and not be afraid 
 of compromising ourselves thereby. 
 
 The lines which unite Christians are not the theolo- 
 gical parallels of latitude, but the isothermal lines of 
 faith. I often find myself in the same religious climate, 
 in the same isothermal line, with men from whom I 
 differ very widely in my religious creed. 
 
 And therefore I hope that, though we meet as a Uni- 
 tarian convention this year, we shall meet next year on 
 a much broader basis, which shall include all liberal 
 Christian churches who may desire to cooperate with 
 us. We and they can be what we choose at home, have 
 our own names, creeds, and methods, but can meet once 
 a year in a national conventijn, with all who believe in 
 a broad cooperation for Christian work. 
 
 The church is the body of Christ. It is an organiza- 
 tion through which the spirit of Christ can work. If, 
 hitherto, it has preached him in the pulpit, rather than 
 gone with him to seek and save the lost ; if it has 
 taught doctrines about him, rather than carried him to a 
 world lying in wickedness ; if it has rather called on men 
 to " come to Jesus " than taken Jesus to find and help 
 them where they are, the time has come, we think, for a 
 change. We wish to take part in the great and opening 
 civilization of the new day and hour. We wish to do 
 something for such a Christianity as the world has never 
 yet seen, a Christianity which shall till all life with the 
 sense of God's presence ; which shall cast both Death 
 and Hell into a lake of fire ; which shall give us a new
 
 THE USlTAlilAN CHURCH. 267 
 
 heaven aud a new earth; wherein dwelleth righteous- 
 ness. 
 
 If we are to do our work, we must have not less faith, 
 and prayer, and piety than others, but more. Unitarians 
 ought to live nearer to God than any others. Our faith 
 should lead us to live in the spirit and walk in the 
 spirit. Above all technical religion, mere cant of piety, 
 we ought to live from God and to God all the day. Our 
 views of God and man should fill us with a love which 
 prays without ceasing, which in everything gives thanks, 
 which does all to the glory of God, which feels his pres- 
 ence hour by hour, moment by moment, and says se- 
 cretly and sweetly, " Abba, Father," all day long. 
 
 We shall have men of this faith when we begin to do 
 more work. Faith leads to work, work also leads to 
 faith. He who does a great Christian Avork casts him- 
 self on God for strength. Our working men will also 
 be praying men. 
 
 In 1877, at the request of the American Unitarian 
 Association, Mr. Clarke gave, in Music Hall, on succes- 
 sive Sunday evenings, a course of six lectures, which 
 were afterwards published in book form and called 
 " Essentials and Non-Essentials in Religion."
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE WAR. 
 
 As soon as the war came, every man's plans gave 
 way to his duties in the national cause. Men who had 
 not known each other by sight found themselves work- 
 ing side by side ; and even men who had distrusted 
 each other found they were close friends. In the new 
 life of the hour, Mr. Clarke's intimacy with Governor 
 Andrew and the interest which he took in the Sanitary 
 Commission brought him personally into relations with 
 soldiers and with the arrangements made for caring for 
 them in the field. 
 
 When the life of Governor Andrew is written, and 
 let us hope it will be written soon, we shall have as 
 fine an instance as our history can show of the way in 
 which a pure idealist comes to the front in a republic 
 like ours, and takes the lead if he be fit for it, even if 
 he be quite indifferent to the methods of partisans and 
 indeed ignorant of them. His life-long friend, Mr. 
 Chandler, has left an amusing account of their experi- 
 ences as poor young men, when they both first arrived 
 in Boston. The landlady, in Howard Street, to whom 
 they applied for lodgings, gave each of them the choice 
 of a small attic, without a window, which had one bed, 
 or of half a double-bedded attic which had a window. 
 For some reason Andrew had the first choice, and he 
 preferred darkness with solitude. Starting from cir- 
 cumstances as simple as this story suggests, with no 
 forces but such as personal character and ability gave, 
 Andrew found himself, in 1860, Governor of Massachu-
 
 THE WAR. 269 
 
 setts. Throughout his life in Boston he lived on the 
 most intimate terms with Mr. Clarke. He joined the 
 Church of the Disciples in the same year in which it 
 was founded. When the secession from that church, 
 which has been referred to, took place, he announced 
 that he was a "stay-inner," and not a " come-outer." 
 More than once, when Mr. Clarke was not present on 
 Sunday, he conducted the religious services. He also 
 taught a class in the Sunday-school, and for a time 
 was its superintendent. 
 
 Mr. Andrew's name was so thoroughly identified with 
 all the philanthropies that it was freely said when he 
 was elected governor that he would put an end to the 
 militia system of Massachusetts. But he was the man, 
 as it proved, who found it his duty and his pride to en- 
 list the largest army Massachusetts ever raised, and to 
 maintain it in the highest efficiency. Once and again, 
 Mr. Clarke visited Washington with Governor Andrew, 
 having indeed duties of his own in the work of the 
 Sanitary Commission and of the hospitals. As secre- 
 tary of the Unitarian Association, he had the oversight 
 of the publication of some army tracts, which got the 
 name of the " White Tracts," and were said to be 
 warmly welcomed by the soldiers. 
 
 At the very beginning of the war. Dr. Bellows 
 founded the Sanitary Commission, with reference to its 
 use in keeping up the interest of the country in the 
 army, as well as for the service which it would render 
 in hospitals and in the field. Mr. Clarke took his share 
 of work in this organization, and was, from the first, 
 an officer in the Massachusetts branch. But in truth, 
 every such church as his was in itself an organization, 
 ready made, for assisting in the duties of the war, 
 whether recruiting for the army, or the care of soldiers, 
 or the instruction of freedmen, or their welcome in New 
 England, or, when things came nearer to a close, the 
 care of refugees, and the introduction of some system 
 of education at the South.
 
 270 DIAliY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 A number of the young men of the Church of the 
 Disciples served in the army. Of thes«, some whose 
 names are still fondly remembered died on the field of 
 battle. Young women from the church were in hos- 
 pital service, and men and women both were personally 
 engaged in the instruction of the freedmen, for which 
 those at home were providing the supplies. I do not 
 know that Dr. Clarke was ever under lire in the war, 
 but the correspondence for the four years is full of de- 
 tails which show how close was his personal interest in 
 all its movement. 
 
 Up to the last minute, even those who had been 
 watching for years the storm-cloud gather, and had 
 uttered their warnings to the blinded nation, still hoped 
 that the doom might be averted. Toward the end of 
 1860, after the election of Lincoln, in a pamphlet called 
 " Secession, Concession, or Self-possession, — Which ? " 
 Mr. Clarke says : — 
 
 "The Sibyl has visited our country and our rulers 
 many times during the last twenty years. She came at 
 the time of the annexation of Texas, and offered us 
 prosperity, union, and freedom. But the price which 
 she asked we thought high ; we could not afford to pay 
 it. It was a courageous and firm resistance to the de- 
 mands of the slave power. 
 
 " In 1850, the Sibyl came again, and offered us some- 
 what less at the same price. If we were then coura- 
 geous enough to exclude slavery by law from the Terri- 
 tories, we should encounter difficulty. The slave power 
 would resist and threaten, but there would be no dis- 
 union. But again we thought the price too high, and 
 we did not pay it. We had another offer in 1856, 
 which we declined. And now, in 1860, the Sibyl comes 
 again. She offers us far less than at first. We can still 
 have freedom and national prosperity, but not union. 
 Some States have decided to leave us ; but they may 
 leave us peacefully, and many of the slave States may
 
 THE WAH. 271 
 
 remain with us. But, if we are afraid to pay the price, 
 the Sibyl will come again and again, offering less each 
 time ; and we shall have at last to come to her terms : 
 for the name of the Sibyl is Opportunity." 
 
 The next spring the storm-cloud broke. 
 
 The following notes from the diary illustrate the di- 
 rection which events gave to his daily life : — 
 
 April 13, 1861. Fort Sumter surrendered. 
 
 April 15. President's proclamation calling out sev- 
 enty-five thousand men. 
 
 April 16. 3d, 4th, and 6th regiments meet on Boston 
 Common. 
 
 April 19. Massachusetts men attacked and killed in 
 Baltimore by the mob. Spent two or three hours in 
 the governor's room at the State House. 
 
 In giving an account of this 19th of April, Mr. Clarke 
 said : " I was in Governor Andrew's room in the State 
 House when the news was coming, by telegraph, of the 
 attacks on our troops in Baltimore. While I was there, 
 Edward Everett came in. He had been nominated for 
 vice-president by the Union Whigs, a party opposed to 
 the Republicans who nominated Lincoln. Forgetting 
 party hostility, he said : ' I have come, Governor An- 
 drew, to offer you my services in any way in which 
 you can make use of them.' Another friend, a class- 
 mate of mine, who was not a Republican, came in and 
 handed his check for ten thousand dollars to Governor 
 Andrew, to be used as he might think best for the 
 common good." 
 
 FROM A SERMON- PRKACHED APRIL 21, THE NEXT SUN- 
 DAY AFTER THE ATTACK ON FORT SUMTER. 
 
 If the true position of a nation is its highest moral 
 attitude, then we may say that these free States were 
 never in a better condition than they are to-day. The
 
 272 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 end is not yet ; no, and though they take Washington, 
 take our President prisoner, seize the archives, and in- 
 stall themselves in the Capitol, that is not the end. So 
 long as the magnificent spirit which actuates the whole 
 North to-day continues, the spirit of devoted patriotism, 
 of perfect unanimity of sentiment, of generous self- 
 sacrifice, of calm, quiet courage, which does not boast 
 at the beginning nor flinch at the end, so long the 
 nation is safe. . . . 
 
 This is a sort of Pentecostal Day, in which the whole 
 multitude are of one heart and one soul ; nor says any 
 one that aught that he possesses is his own, but we have 
 all things in common. . . . 
 
 For the sake of national prosperity, for the sake of 
 outward union, for the sake of a mere mercantile peace, 
 we have here at the North been conniving for years at 
 a system of despotism more cruel than exists elsewhere 
 on the face of the earth. 
 
 Now we are punished in just those three points. Our 
 prosperity has received a terrible check, our Union is 
 dissolved, and our peaoe has terminated in what threat- 
 ens to be an awful war. . . . 
 
 Let us stand by each other now in these dark hours, 
 trusting in God's eternal justice and truth. He that is 
 for us is more than they that be against us. 
 
 During the dark hours of the Civil War, all Mr. 
 Clarke's faith and hope were needed ; but he had fore- 
 seen that defeats during the first period of the war were 
 to be expected ; and his confidence, born of trust in the 
 divine Providence, never failed. A friend told, twenty 
 years later, how he had met Mr. Clarke the day after 
 the battle of Bull Run, and how, even on that black 
 day, when every one else was disheartened, his serenity 
 was unshaken. 
 
 Some of his parishioners noticed that whenever any-
 
 THE WAR. 273 
 
 thing very discouraging happened, he was sure the next 
 Sunday to rise up in the pulpit, looking full of hope 
 and courage, and when the time came for the first 
 hymn, he would say : " We will sing the hymn begin- 
 ning, 
 
 * Give to the winds thy fears ! 
 Hope, and he undismayed ! '" 
 
 They learned to watch for the accustomed words ; and 
 one of them said, " We lived on that hymn all through 
 the war ; everybody in the church learned it by heart." 
 
 FROM HIS DIARY. 
 
 June 2, 1861. Afternoon to Brook Farm, to " Camp 
 Andrew " to preach. 
 
 June 9. Preach at Camp Andrew in afternoon. 
 
 June 16. To Brook Farm, preached fourth time, — 
 text, " Be not weary." 
 
 [He owned Brook Farm, and had given the use of it 
 for the camp of the Massachusetts Second, while it was 
 recruiting and preparing for the front.] 
 
 July 8. Gordon's regiment left Brook Farm. Went 
 up there before breakfast. 
 
 July 22. News of defeat at Bull Kun. 
 
 July 23. State House ; General Schouler. 
 
 Sept. 26. National fast. Preached on " Slavery and 
 the Union." Church very full. 
 
 Oct. 1. Delegate to Republican Convention at 
 Worcester. I presented two emancipation resolutions. 
 Both set aside, 
 
 Oct. 21. Battle of Edwards' Ferry [Ball's Bluff]. 
 Took telegram to Dr. Holmes about his son. 
 
 Oct. 29. Funeral of William Lowell Putnam.^ I 
 spoke. 
 
 1 Who had died in the hattle of Ball's BlufE.
 
 274 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 FROM HIS ADDRESS AT THE FUXERAL OF WILLIAM 
 LOWELL PUTNAM. 
 
 In the fatal battle a week ago, Putnam fell while en- 
 deavoring to save a wounded companion, — fell, soiled 
 with no ignoble dust — " non indecoro pulvere sordi- 
 dtimP Brought to the hospital-tent, he said to the sur- 
 geon, who came to dress his wound, " Go to some one 
 else, to whom you can do more good ; you cannot save 
 me," — like Philip Sydney, giving the water to the sol- 
 diers who needed it more than himself. And still more 
 striking, as showing his earnest conscientiousness, is 
 the fact that he refused to allow Sturgis to remove him, 
 saying : " It is your duty to leave me. It is your duty 
 to go to your own men, and leave me here." And his 
 friend was obliged to carry him away in spite of this 
 protest. 
 
 How hard that these precious lives should be thus 
 wasted, apparently for naught, through the ignorance 
 or the carelessness of those whose duty it was to make 
 due preparation, before sending them to the field ! How 
 can we bear it ? 
 
 We could not bear it, unless we believed in God. 
 But it is not any blind chance, nor yet any human folly, 
 which controls these events. All is as God wills, who 
 knows what the world needs, and what we need, better 
 than we can know it. And the death of Christ has 
 taught us that it is God's great law that the best shall 
 be sacrificed to save the worst, the innocent suffering 
 for the good of the guilty. This is the law, ordained 
 before the earth was made ; and every pure soul sacri- 
 ficed in a struggle with evil is another "lamb slain from 
 the foundation of the world." 
 
 And do we not see, in these great sacrifices, that the 
 heroism itself is already a great gain ? Is it not some- 
 thing to know that we do not belong to a degenerate 
 raxje ? Is it not a great blessing to know that we also,
 
 THE WAR. 276 
 
 and our sons, are still as capable as our fathers were of 
 great and noble sacrifices, — that Massachusetts still 
 produces heroes, — that these boys of yours, trained 
 perhaps in luxury, can, at the call of their country, die 
 cheerfully for their land ? 
 
 FROM HIS DIARY. 
 
 1861. Nov. 12. Depart for Washington. Meet Gov- 
 ernor and Mrs. Andrew at New Haven. 
 
 Nov. 13. To Philadelphia with Governor Andrew, 
 Colonel Howe, and Colonel Ritchie. 
 
 Nov. 15. Visit the Capitol with William H. Chan- 
 ning. 
 
 Nov. 16. Call upon Abraham Lincoln. 
 
 Nov. 17. Call upon President Lincoln ; hear William 
 Channing preach ; walk to Port Albany to preach to the 
 Sixteenth Massachusetts. 
 
 Nov. 18. To see review at Upton's Hill. See dis- 
 tant skirmish. 
 
 Nov. 19. Brigade review. 
 
 Nov. 20. Grand review, — 53,000 men. 
 
 Nov. 24. [At home.] Preach sermon on " Washing- 
 ton in November." Church crowded. 
 
 These entries are intermixed with " Bible-class," " Vis- 
 ited seven schools," "Baptized William and Helen," 
 " Ministers' meeting," and other affairs which would 
 seem to be of peaceful life. 
 
 At this time Mr. Clarke was general secretary of the 
 American Unitarian Association. In the " Monthly 
 Journal " of December, 1861, he gives the following 
 account of his ten days' stay in Washington during the 
 previous month. 
 
 My last visit of any length to Washington was in 
 1851, — ten years ago. In those days it was a city 
 to weep over. It was a city of politicians and place-
 
 276 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 hunters. The influence of the Government and of 
 office-holders was so preponderant that all other powers 
 gave way before the power of place. . . . 
 
 One thing, however, was essential to all aspirants for 
 office : they must believe in slavery, or, at least, must 
 believe in giving slavery all it asked. The bitter mock- 
 ery then known as the " Compromises of 1850 " had 
 been passed. The Fugitive Slave Law of Senator Ma- 
 son had been universally accepted as constitutional and 
 right. Great men of all parties had agreed that anti- 
 slavery agitation was ended. The conscience, reason, 
 and heart of man were to be forever silenced on this 
 subject. 
 
 I recollect going into the Senate chamber one day, 
 and sitting behind the chair of Mr. Clay. It was his 
 last session in Congress. He spoke, that morning, with 
 great contempt of the " Free-Soil " party ; and said, 
 " We have put them down, down, down, — so low down, 
 that they will never rise again." Yet now the princi- 
 ples of this party, so low in 1851, have, in 18G1, taken 
 possession of the White House and the Capitol. 
 
 In those days, to be a Free-Soiler was equivalent to 
 exclusion from the common courtesies and privileges of 
 Washington. All public offices, all places in the Cab- 
 inet, all important committees in the Senate and House 
 were held by their opponents. At the house of Gama- 
 liel Bailey, editor of the '' National Era," a little knot of 
 Free-Soilers would collect every evening. There I used 
 to see Giddings, Seward, Chase, Hale, Julian, Horace 
 Mann, and a few others. Meantime the great East 
 Room of the White House was nightly crowded with 
 ambassadors, heads of departments, military and naval 
 officers, and brilliant women ; so crowded that it was 
 difficult to see any one at a distance from you, except 
 two men who towered head and shoulders above all the 
 rest, and were visible from any part of the room, — 
 General Scott and Samuel Houston. . . .
 
 THE WAR. 211 
 
 Such was Washington in 1851. How is it now, in 
 18G1? 
 
 Ten years have passed, and what a change ! The 
 crowds who then thronged Presidential levees are either 
 fled, or " gone to salute the rising morn." That " ris- 
 ing morn " is the same Free-Soil dynasty which, ten 
 years ago, met in Dr. Bailey's little upper chamber, — 
 that same party which I heard Henry Clay then declare 
 to be " put down, down, down for ever and ever ! " The 
 two foremost men in the Cabinet of Mr. Lincoln are 
 two who used to meet in that room, SeAvard and Chase ; 
 another, Henry Wilson, is chairman of one of the most 
 important committees. Everything has passed into the 
 hands of the party which was then down, — White 
 House, Capitol, Departments, Army, Navy, Treasury, 
 — everything but the Supreme Court, and that sits 
 helpless for good, powerless for evil. Young politician, 
 believe in ideas ! 
 
 Blinded by some divine Nemesis, the slave power, 
 which had all in its hands, flung all away. Dividing 
 its party at Charleston, it gave the Republicans the 
 President ; by seceding from Congress, it gave them a 
 majority in both Houses ; by making war on the Union, 
 it gave them the support of a united North ; holding 
 the sword and purse of the Union, the army and navy, 
 the Senate and House, it threw them all away. Where 
 are the voices once so loud and arrogant, so domineer- 
 ing and overbearing ? Departed all, and departed for- 
 ever ! New men, new scenes. The new era has taken 
 to itself new halls in the extended Capitol. But I 
 willingly lingered in the scene of those great debates, 
 which the pen of History shall make immortal. I stood 
 in the place where was the desk of John Quincy Adams, 
 and thought of the time when the brave old hero stood 
 alone for three days, attacked by all the Southern bul- 
 lies and Northern dough-faces, — he alone against all, 
 and conquering them all. ...
 
 278 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 The whole aspect of the city is changed. It is like 
 a city of Europe, — like Berlin, or Vienna, or St. 
 Petersburg, — but with a difference. For this of ours 
 is not a mere standing army, to be wielded blindly in 
 the interests of despotism, but an intelligent army of 
 freemen, come to protect liberty and law. It is the na- 
 tion itself which has taken up arms, and come to Wash- 
 ington to defend its own life and the ideas of the 
 fathers. It has come to defend the Declaration of In- 
 dependence, and the Constitution, laws, and traditions 
 of the land. 
 
 Therefore the most interesting thing in and about 
 Washington is the army, considered as a collection of 
 individuals. I enjoyed talking with the soldiers in the 
 camps, in the hospitals, and in Washington. I talked 
 with many of them from all parts of the land, — Michi- 
 gan, Minnesota, Kentucky, Pennsylvania, Massachu- 
 setts, Vermont, New York ; Irish also, and Germans ; 
 and I never talked with men who seemed animated by 
 a more earnest purpose ; never with men more serious, 
 manly, and unpretending. Rogues and villains there 
 doubtless are in this, as in all armies; but they are 
 a small minority. The mails go from every camp, 
 weighed down with letters for friends at home. From 
 Port Royal, the other, day, the steamer brought fifteen 
 thousand letters, an average of one for every man. 
 
 In Fort Runion, which is the tete du po7it of the Long 
 Bridge, there is a company of Marblehead men in gar- 
 rison. Nearly every one of them has had fever and 
 ague, for the fort is on the edge of a swamp. But the 
 men said they were very willing to stay there, since 
 any other company would have to be seasoned as they 
 had been, and they were already acclimated. There 
 was true heroism in this. . . . 
 
 Saturday, November 16, . Went in a carriage 
 
 with three friends (one of them being W. H. Channing, 
 and another the Boston correspondent of the " New
 
 THE W'AE. t>79 
 
 York Tribune") over the Long Bridge, on a visit to 
 some of the camps in Virginia. Our passes, good for 
 ten days, and admitting us everywhere within the lines, 
 had been procured from General McClellan. We first 
 went to Fort Kunion and Fort Albany, both garrisoned 
 by the Massachusetts Fourteenth, and under the com- 
 mand of Col, William B. Greene. Colonel Greene is a 
 graduate of West Point, and has been successiv^ely in 
 the Florida War, as United States officer of regulars ; 
 student of theology in the Baptist Seminary, Newton ; 
 Unitarian minister at South Brookfield, Mass. ; and 
 author of various profound metaphysical, theological, 
 and politico-economical works. From Fort Albany one 
 overlooks the Potomac and a wide extent of country. 
 It is a powerful fortification, defended by high earth- 
 works, deep ditches, a tangled ahattls of limbs of trees, 
 and heavy pieces of artillery. The colonel summoned 
 his regiment together, and asked them to sing some of 
 their songs and hymns for the party ; introducing to 
 them more particularly Mrs. John A, Andrew. Among 
 these songs the most conspicuous was the famous John 
 Brown song, — 
 
 "John Brown's body lies a-mouldering in the grave ; 
 His sonl goes marching on. 
 
 Glory, glory, hallelujah ! " 
 
 Several times afterward did we hear this song sounding 
 among the woods of Virginia ; and surely it seemed 
 true in the deepest sense. John Brown's soul is march- 
 ing on ! For what is the soul of John Brown but his 
 unconquerable hatred of slavery, and his fervent desire 
 of seeing it abolished ? And is not that desire and 
 feeling marching on ? Is not slavery recognized more 
 and more as the cause of the war, the deadly foe of the 
 Union, the poison in our cup, the enemy of true de- 
 mocracy and true Christianity, and something which 
 must be destroyed, if the life of the nation is to be 
 saved ? . . .
 
 280 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 To say this, or sonietliing equivalent, to Massachu- 
 setts men, on the banks of the Potomac, in Old Vir- 
 ginia, was accovmted by me a privilege. The colonel 
 asked us to address the men, and we did ; but at this 
 time we spoke of the pride which Massachusetts took 
 in her soldiers, — of the credit they brought to the old 
 State by their discipline in camp and courage in the 
 field. We told them of the women at home, who could 
 be happy only when doing something for their soldiers ; 
 and of the heroic deaths of the brave officers, Massachu- 
 setts boys, who, amid their own sufferings, thought only 
 of the welfare of their men, and of their heroism. A 
 lady of the party said a few words, suited to the scene 
 and hour. . . . 
 
 During the evening. Governor Andrew took me, with 
 two other gentlemen, to call on the President. The 
 porter at the White House told us that he had gone 
 out, but would soon be back. So we went on through 
 gallery and corridor, blue room, council room, and par- 
 lor, — all lighted, and all empty. The doors stood 
 open ; but not a soul could be anywhere seen. The 
 only signs of occupancy which we found were two pairs 
 of little shoes standing outside a door, indicative of 
 children sleeping quietly within. Happy children, who 
 can play all day in a palace as in a cottage, and sleep 
 all night undisturbed by the uneasy cares which deny 
 rest to kings and presidents ! 
 
 Selecting the room which best suited us, we talked 
 together until the President, returning home and hear- 
 ing our voices, came where we were. What is the im- 
 pression which his appearance, maimer, and conversa- 
 tion make on one ? This : of an unassuming country 
 gentleman, modest but self-possessed, with sagacity and 
 full powers of observation, but without the least touch 
 of political manoeuvring. Mr. Lincoln is no politician; 
 does not pretend to be a great and accomplished states- 
 man ; but is an honest, candid, modest, sagacious
 
 THE WAH. 281 
 
 American citizen, who means to do his duty as well 
 as he can. . . . 
 
 Sunday, Is^ovember 17. In the afternoon of this 
 sunny Sunday, I walked over the Long Bridge to hold a 
 religious service with the Massachusetts Fourteenth, in 
 Fort Albany, in compliance with an invitation brought 
 to me on the previous evening by three of the soldiers. 
 It so happened that I stood to address the troops with 
 my face to the Potomac and the city of Washington ; 
 and the soft lights of evening gathered over the scene 
 as the service went on, and the voices of the soldiers 
 arose in song, while " the sounding aisles of the dim 
 woods " of Virginia rang to the anthem of the free sol- 
 diers of Massachusetts. It was a thrilling scene, and 
 one long to be remembered by me. 
 
 After preaching, parade-drill ; and after this came 
 what the colonel called the " cultus of the flag." 
 
 The soldiers were drawn up around the flag-staff : the 
 band saluted the flag ; the men presented arms. Then 
 the flag was lowered by four men, and carefully folded 
 into a triangular form ; then carried by one of them 
 in his arms reverently, while the others walked be- 
 side him ; and the soldiers formed an escort for it to 
 headquarters, where it was put away for the night on 
 a shelf. . . . 
 
 The result of this visit to Washington was, on the 
 whole, gratifying. Far more gratifying was this visit 
 in 1861, in time of Avar, than the other in 1851, in time 
 of peace. Then all was outward prosperity ; but in- 
 wardly all was corruption. Now outwardly everything 
 denotes disaster and calamity ; but inwardly there is a 
 brave and generous purpose. Soldiers go to the war 
 impelled by this motive ; their friends at home feel its 
 influence. . . . 
 
 It is very sad to go through the hospitals, and see 
 the young men maimed for life ; unable any more to 
 take part in youthful sports ; never again to ride or run
 
 282 niABY AM) VOlihESFUNDENCK. 
 
 or swim or skate or dance. They go out with a youth- 
 ful beauty which touches all hearts ; they come home 
 disfigured and deformed. What does not the nation 
 owe to those who incur these risks for its sake ? 
 
 Nevertheless, war is like a fever, in which nature 
 makes an effort to throw off some deep-seated evil 
 worse than the fever. Our nation was gradually be- 
 coming corrupt. The poison of slavery was penetrating 
 every part of the social system. It corrupted the great 
 political parties, it polluted the church, it demoralized 
 trade, it debased society. 
 
 Is it not a grand thing to see all this flood of evil 
 checked, even by the storm of war ? 
 
 Thus may Washington, redeemed and purified, yet 
 become our holy city ! God grant that the immense 
 woes and wrongs of war may at least produce this 
 happy result, a community saved from the corruptions 
 of prosperity and peace. 
 
 FROM SOME OF HIS SERMONS OF THIS PERIOD. 
 
 It is, perhaps, the highest kind of courage, this of 
 standing at our post, no matter whether we seem to suc- 
 ceed or to fail. For this, we dwell so often, with tear- 
 ful eyes, on the story of the unequal fight, when young 
 men stand firm at their post, though conscious that it 
 is in vain. The three hundred at Thermopylae, the six 
 hundred at Balaklava, the Fifteenth and Twentieth 
 Massachusetts at Ball's Bluff, — their heroism affects 
 us more deeply than that of the men who share the 
 triumphs of victorious days. 
 
 Such moments of heroic courage indicate to us what 
 is the real nobleness of life. It is to do all, and then 
 stand ; to stand firm to our duty, loyal to right, faith- 
 ful to justice and truth, whether men hear or forbear. 
 This makes it worth while to live. If a man only lives 
 for success, he is poor and cowardly when disaster
 
 THE WAR. 283 
 
 comes. Then we hear him finding fault, complaining, 
 lamenting, fearing everything ; throwing doubt on 
 everything; talking like the book of Ecclesiastes, not 
 like the book of Revelation. 
 
 Having learned to stand by the flag, we may also 
 learn to stand by what the flag symbolizes ; to stand up 
 for equal rights, universal freedom, for justice to all, 
 for a true democracy. 
 
 The nation says, coming to itself, " I am a nation 
 with ideas and duties, and I am here to do them." And 
 that is what it has not said before for the last thirty or 
 forty years. Patriotism is the self-consciousness of a 
 nation ; and while we were only individuals, struggling 
 for our own selfish good, we had no patriotism, and 
 could have none. 
 
 God does not take away the Red Sea, nor the wilder- 
 ness, nor Jordan, but goes with us through them all, — 
 a cloud by day, a pillar of fire by night. 
 
 What deeper wound in the heart than the sense of an 
 irreparable loss ? But within these two years we have 
 seen the best blood of the land, the purest and noblest 
 children born in our Northern homes, go out to die, 
 with their fathers' blessing and their mothers' kiss. 
 These children, for whose coming God prepared this 
 fair land, that they might open their infant eyes on the 
 beauty of its hills and valleys, its lakes and forests ; for 
 whose childhood past generations of thinkers, from 
 Plato and Aristotle down to Pestalozzi and Horace 
 Mann, have been providing methods of education, — 
 these young men, purified in the calm atmosphere of 
 virtuous homes, developed by the training and disci- 
 pline of schools, of study, of books, of travel, the costly 
 fruit of the latest century and the most advanced race,
 
 284 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 go to die in a field of unavailing destruction. I visit 
 their mothers or sisters, their fathers or brothers, when 
 the fatal news arrives. I go wath fear, dreading to 
 meet a great and hopeless anguish. I find heaven 
 there. I find the peace of God in their souls. I go to 
 carry sympathy, and words of comfort ; but I receive 
 instead inspiration. The boy, falling on the battlefield, 
 renews all the tales of Greek and Roman heroism. We 
 can burn our "Plutarch." We do not need to read 
 hereafter the stories of Themistocles, of Aristides, of 
 Leonidas. Your brothers and sons are to be spoken of 
 in history forever, and are to be the illuminating lights 
 of the coming age. 
 
 FKOM HIS DIARY. 
 
 January 1, 1863. President Lincoln's proclamation, 
 freeing the slaves. [Announcement had been made of 
 this proclamation on the 22d of September, to take effect 
 on the 1st of January.] Tremont Temple ; I speak. 
 Tea at Mrs. Ellis Gray Loring's. [Mr. Loring was 
 one of the original Abolitionists, a member of the 
 Church of the Disciples, and a near personal friend.] 
 Evening, go to meet the Educational Commission at 
 Mrs, Cabot's. [This was a commission which had in 
 charge the sending of teachers to the freedmen at Port 
 Boyal and other points occupied by the national forces.] 
 
 TO N. AUGUSTUS STAPLES. 
 
 January 1, 1863. 
 
 I shall be in Washington on the second Sunday in 
 January, and cannot exchange with you on that day. I 
 am sorry it happens so, for I wished to have an ex- 
 change with you. 
 
 This is the great day which separates forever the 
 people of this Union from slavery and slaveholding, — 
 for the border slavery will fall of itself soon. 
 
 Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace, 
 good will to men.
 
 THJi: WAR. 285 
 
 FROM HIS DIARY. 
 
 Sunday, January 4, 18G3. Preach Is^ew Year's ser- 
 mon on the proclamation. Afternoon, Lord's Supper. 
 Leave for Washington at 11.10. 
 
 Jan. 7. Tom, Lilian and I leave [Philadelphia] for 
 Washington at 11.35. 
 
 Jan. 8. To the Capitol ; President's levee. Call on 
 Mr. Sam. Hooper, dine with Judge Thomas. [Hon. 
 Benjamin F. Thomas, then member of Congress for Mr. 
 Clarke's district.] 
 
 Jan. 11. Preach in the Senate Chamber ; good con- 
 gregation. Lilian and I drive with Mrs. S. Hooper to 
 the contraband camp. Dine at Mr. Hooper's with Mr. 
 Sumner and Captain Bliss. 
 
 Jan. 12. Smithsonian ; Sanitary ; Capitol ; Senate, 
 House, and Library ; Long Bridge. 
 
 Jan. 13. Carriage with Henry Huidekoper and Colo- 
 nel and Mrs. Ashurst to Arlington Heights, and to 
 Colonel Wells' camp at Alexandria. 
 
 He thus records one of the incidents of this visit to 
 Washington. 
 
 I went one Sunday afternoon to the contraband camp, 
 [near Washington] where are collected the negroes, 
 men, women, and children, who have escaped from slav- 
 ery. Small-pox being among them, we could not go 
 into their houses ; but they gathered around the car- 
 riage, and their superintendent asked them to sing for 
 us : they sang hymns, one woman giving out the lines, 
 and the rest singing, swaying their bodies with a slow 
 motion backward and forward. At the request of the 
 superintendent, I said something to them ; and they re- 
 plied, "Yes, sir," "That 's right," "We will, sir," and 
 so on ; and when I ended the}^ said, " Thank you, sir." 
 Then one or two of the men told their experiences in
 
 286 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 slavery, and how they escaped, and how they had left 
 behind their friends and children, tears streaming from 
 their eyes, and others crying too ; for all had left some 
 behind ; and the ladies in the carriage cried with them. 
 Lastly, an old negro man prayed, leaning, like Jacob, 
 on the top of his staff ; and all the rest knelt on the 
 ground, in the mud, and solemnly said " Amen," or else 
 sang a sort of chanting assent, in places where they 
 were moved to, — a low under-song, as it seemed, of 
 sympathy. We all noticed, while they sang, what a 
 profoundly reverent expression was on their faces ; 
 surely such as I never saw on the faces of white men. 
 This visit to these poor people, Hebrews in the wilder- 
 ness, who had come out of Egypt, but had not yet 
 reached the promised land, was very touching. I was 
 told that they easily found work in the District, the 
 able-bodied men and the good female house-servants 
 very easily. I asked one colored woman, just from 
 Virginia, if they had heard down there, among the 
 slaves, of the President's Proclamation. She said, 
 " Oh, yes, massa ! we all knows about it ; only we dars n't 
 let on. We pretends not to know. I said to my ole 
 massa, 'What's this Massa Lincoln is going to do to 
 the poor nigger ? I hear he is going to cut 'em up awful 
 bad. How is it, massa ? ' I just pretended foolish, 
 sort of." 
 
 In July, 1863, Mr. Clarke went to Gettysburg, to find 
 a young relative who had been wounded in the battle 
 and was reported missing. He writes : — 
 
 The more I look at it, the more I deem the battle of 
 Gettysburg the most decisive ever fought on this con- 
 tinent. ... On Tuesday afternoon, four days after the 
 battle, I spent an hour on the field. 
 
 I walked up the road from the town toward the 
 cemetery. All along the way lay soldiers who had been
 
 THE WAR. 287 
 
 killed. . . . Poor desolated homes, South as well as 
 Korth ! Long will they look in vain for those dear to 
 them as ours to us. . . . 
 
 All the churches had been turned into hospitals. The 
 pews were floored over, and the men lay close together 
 with every variety of wounds, but all so patient and so 
 quiet that it touched one's heart to see them. After 
 two or three hours' search I found my young nephew, 
 a Harvard graduate of 1862, among the ten thousand 
 wounded in and around Gettysburg. He commanded a 
 regiment of four hundred men in the first day's battle, 
 when the First and Eleventh Army Corps held back for 
 four long hours the whole of Lee's army. This regi- 
 ment, with two others, making twelve hundred in all, 
 held back five thousand men. They were shelled for 
 an hour, and then were under a fire of musketry from 
 the whole five thousand for another hour. Most of the 
 officers were wounded, some of them tAvo or three 
 times. Of four hundred men belonging to this regi- 
 ment, only a hundred and five came out untouched. 
 
 Our officers and soldiers understand more and more 
 that the conflict is between liberty and slavery, between 
 civilization and barbarism, between Christianity and 
 Antichrist. What else supports them, and gives them 
 such patience and fortitude ? It is the most marked 
 feature of the wai-, this supreme peace of men who seem 
 to have lost everything that makes life worth having. 
 I saw men maimed, crippled for life ; but they all said, 
 "No matter, we beat them." I saw a man who had lost 
 both his eyes ; but he was cheerful, even merry. One 
 man who had lost a foot said, '•' I would rather have lost 
 the other than not have won the victory." When I saw 
 my nephew, who had lost his right arm, cheerful and 
 contented ; when I saw all these young soldiers, many 
 of them badly wounded, so modest and so manly, with- 
 out exultation, but with this earnest satisfaction in 
 having done something really great, — I could not
 
 238 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 grieve any more for their loss. I saw that each lost 
 limb, each wound, each scar, was the Cross of the 
 Legion of Honor, to be worn always, as a proof that 
 they had deserved well of their country ; as a proof to 
 themselves that they had not lived in vain. 
 
 TO HIS SISTER IN CANADA. 
 
 Jamaica Plain, September 5, 1863. 
 H. J. H. and A. C. H. came here yesterday, — the 
 former to go back to college, the latter to the High 
 School. They spent their vacation in catching Morgan. 
 They, with F. AV. H. and the two B.'s, joined a Mead- 
 ville company which volunteered to go to protect Pitts- 
 burgh. When there, they were sent to guard the line 
 of the Ohio against Morgan's retreat, helped catch him, 
 and were sent to guard him on his way to Columbus. 
 That is the way boys spend their summer vacation in 
 the States. 
 
 Of a young soldier who belonged to the Church of 
 the Disciples, and was killed in May, 1864, Mr. Clarke 
 said : — 
 
 Henry May Bond went to the war, and returned to 
 it again, from a pure sense of duty. He had no taste 
 for military life ; in his modesty he distrusted his own 
 fitness for the service ; but he thought it his duty, hav- 
 ing served his time in a nine-months' regiment, to enlist 
 again. In a letter to a brother officer he says : " In the 
 hour of personal danger I am strong and courageous 
 only in the faith that, should it please God to take my 
 life while in the discharge of what I deem to be my 
 highest duty, all will be well with me. I should be 
 worth nothing to ray friends or my country without 
 tlat faith in God." So the good, brave boy lived, 
 cheerfully and patiently ; so, cheerfully and patiently, 
 he died.
 
 THE WAR. 289 
 
 TO E. C. C. 
 
 June 18, 1864. 
 
 ... Do you remember David W. Norton, who joined 
 our church eight years ago, and afterwards went to 
 Chicago ? He became major in an Illinois regiment, 
 fought in all the chief battles, and was killed, June 3, 
 by a rebel sharpshooter, while in front of our lines 
 with the general, sketching the enemy's lines. Monday 
 I went to Mount Auburn to the funeral. Yesterday I 
 received a cane he cut for me on Lookout Mountain, 
 after the battle. 
 
 . . . Do you see how bravely the colored soldiers 
 have fought at Petersburg ? They have been praised 
 by the generals on the field for their courage. Still, 
 Government can pay them only seven dollars a month ! 
 I talked with Governor Andrew about it after church 
 last Sunday. He said, " I wrote last week to Charles 
 Sumner and Thaddeus Stevens that I should pursue 
 this matter without rest or pause ; that I should neither 
 forget nor forgive any neglect or opposition in regard 
 to it; that I would not die till I had vindicated the 
 rights of the colored soldiers." . . . 
 
 TO E. c. c. 
 
 Washington, June 29, 1864. 
 I came to this city last Friday, preached in the Capi- 
 tol on Sunday, and have been seeing a number of per- 
 sons since then. I have had one or two good talks 
 with Mr. Chase about public affairs ; also with Charles 
 Sumner. As I am locnm tenens of Chaplain Channing, 
 I have the entree of the Senate and House as I please, 
 so that I can go in and sit on one of the sofas behind 
 the members, and talk to those I know as they pass 
 me. Our Mr. Boutwell made a very good speech a few 
 days since. Mr. Sumner has succeeded, within the 
 past week, in getting through Congress laws to repeal
 
 290 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 the laws authorizing a coast-wise slave-trade ; to repeal 
 the fugitive slave laws ; to allow colored people to tes- 
 tify before the United States courts ; and to establish 
 a Freedman's Bureau. 
 
 To-day I am going to the front as one of a Sanitary 
 Eelief Corps. I go to Fortress Monroe, City Point, — 
 the lines, — and Norfolk ; stay three or four days, and 
 return to Baltimore on Monday. I hope to see and 
 hear a good deal in these three days. I wish I had 
 you with me. We have never traveled much together, 
 and I should enjoy having you by me. 
 
 TO A. H. C. 
 
 New York, April 4, 1865. 
 
 What good news ! These things seem to come as 
 apples fall when they are ripe ; we pull at them in 
 spring and summer and they hold on, but at last drop 
 of themselves so quietly that we hardly notice it. Abo- 
 lition of slavery, fall of Charleston, fall of Kichmond, 
 — when they arrive they are like things foreordained 
 from the foundation of the world. But there is a sad 
 story to follow of losses, — another great flood of grief 
 to rush over the land, giving its pathetic minor to the 
 music of thanksgiving. But let us hope that the end 
 has come. . . . We heard of the fall of Kichmond, at 
 Springfield. It startled Henry B. Eogers into such un- 
 wonted enthusiasm that he clapped a hand on each of 
 my shoulders, and half embraced me. " Negro troops 
 too," said he, '' think of that ! " I did think of it, 
 with grateful tears, in my heart if not in my eyes, to 
 that great Wisdom who does all things well. . . . 
 
 I shall see Dr. Bellows this morning, — ride down 
 Broadway to Wall Street, and see how the city looks, 
 then come and work on my sermon till the last minute. 
 Let us trust that whether it be good or bad, the Master
 
 THE WAR. 291 
 
 may make it good to the hearers in its influence and 
 results. 
 
 And the peace came that summer. 
 
 FROM A SERMON OF OCTOBER 22, 1865. 
 
 Yesterday, the Fifty -Fourth Eegiraent of colored 
 troops marched through Boston, on its return from the 
 war, and was disbanded. Ah, could we do our work as 
 that regiment has done its work ! They have helped 
 to achieve the safety of the nation and the deliverance 
 of their race. 
 
 FROM A SERMON OF DECEMBER 7, 1865. 
 
 On this day of Thanksgiving, while thanking God for 
 all his other gifts, let us thank him most of all for good 
 men — men loving justice, truth, freedom, Christianity, 
 more than comfort or peace ; men ready to live and die 
 for an idea ; enthusiasts for goodness and right. 
 
 Good men save the State ; but they only save it when 
 other men are capable of being moved and led by their 
 example. A time comes, in the downfall and corrup- 
 tion of communities, when good men struggle ineffectu- 
 ally against the tendencies of ruin. Hannibal could not 
 save Carthage. Marcus Antoninus could not save the 
 Roman Empire. Demosthenes could not save Greece, 
 and Jesus Christ himself could not save Jerusalem from 
 decay and destruction. Nations can go too far to be 
 saved. The great hope of this land is in the fact that 
 the mass of the people mean right, and, unless misled 
 by demagogues, will do right. But, for this hope to be 
 realized, all Christians and all patriots must work to- 
 gether.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 EDUCATION. 
 
 The reader of Mr. Clarke's autobiography has already 
 seen how central and vital was his interest in public 
 education in his early life. He had been a teacher soon 
 after he left college. At Louisville, he gave his per- 
 sonal attention to elevating the public schools, and be- 
 came superintendent of schools there early in 1839. So 
 soon as his home was established at Jamaica Plain, he 
 took a personal interest in the public schools of that 
 neighborhood, and was chosen for successive years upon 
 the school committee, until Jamaica Plain was absorbed 
 by the city of Boston. 
 
 In the year 1863 he was appointed by Governor An- 
 drew a member of the State Board of Education, to suc- 
 ceed Governor Boutwell. The Board of Education in 
 Massachusetts has the entire control of the Normal 
 Schools and of the Art School. He retained this posi- 
 tion until December, 1869, when he resigned. He was 
 one of the active members of that board. He drew 
 upits annual report for the year 1868, and in reference 
 to the time allotted for study, he proposed that eight 
 hours' application, including the time spent in school, 
 be fixed as the outside limit of brain work of Normal 
 School pupils. 
 
 In the year 1867 he was appointed a professor in the 
 Divinity School of Harvard College. It was understood 
 that he was not to live at Cambridge, but was to be 
 present two days in the week,^ and a good deal of free- 
 
 1 In the year 1867-(iS he gave two days ; after that only one day.
 
 EDUCATIO.W 298 
 
 duiii was given him in the selection of his subjects. In 
 the quinquennial catalogue he stands as " Professor of 
 Natural Theology and Christian Doctrine," — a wide 
 range which in another line of life would be called a 
 pirate's commission. In the annual catalogue, at the 
 same date, his title stands, " Professor of Ethnic Reli- 
 gions and the Creeds of Christendom." Mr. Clarke 
 used this commission almost as broadly as it was given. 
 The outcome of this work which has most interest for 
 the reading public is found in the two books, " Steps 
 of Belief" and "Ten Great Eeligions," of which he 
 laid the foundations in lectures prepared at this time 
 for his classes. Besides these, which, at the time, 
 were called lectures on " Comparative Theology," he 
 delivered a course on " Christian Doctrine." After- 
 wards he prepared several lectures on "The Roman 
 Catholic Church," and on other subjects. The lectures 
 on subjects specially Christian form a considerable part 
 of his courses. In the autumn of 1869, his subject was 
 " The Apostle Paul." 
 
 His duties at the divinity school required him to 
 spend at least one morning every week with the stu- 
 dents. He enjoyed the work, and especially his rela- 
 tionship with the young men. Indeed, his intercourse 
 with students who were preparing to be preachers was 
 always interesting to him ; and as family ties often 
 drew him to Meadville, where is situated the only 
 divinity school of the Unitarian Church of America,^ he 
 maintained a friendly intimacy with the students he 
 found there, as well as with those at Cambridge. 
 
 In 1866 he was chosen by the legislature of Massa- 
 chusetts an overseer of Harvard College, and when 
 that board of overseers was reconstituted in 1873, so 
 
 ^ The Unitarian Church of America also endowed the Cambridge 
 divinity school, which is now snpported by the endowment ; but it is 
 distinctly understood that the school shall be undenominational, and 
 its professors may be taken from any Christian communion.
 
 294 DIARY AND COURESFONDENCE. 
 
 that the alumni should choose the overseers, he was 
 one of the first elected. The alumni continued to elect 
 him as often as they could, until his death.^ Under the 
 constitution of the board, a person who has served for 
 two terms cannot be reelected for a third, without a 
 year's interval. 
 
 The board of overseers of Harvard College is one of 
 those boards of which the instincts of Massachusetts 
 men are very fond, which has very few powers, but a 
 great deal of power.^ 
 
 It would be hard to overstate the importance of the 
 public supervision exercised by the board of overseers. 
 Experience proves that our main hope for the perma- 
 nence and ever-widening influence of the university 
 must rest upon this double-headed organization. The 
 English practice of setting up a single board of private 
 trustees to carry on a school or a charity of some 
 founder or founders has certainly proved a bad one ; 
 and when we count by generations, the institutions thus 
 established have proved short-lived. The same causes 
 which have brought about the decline of English en- 
 dowed schools would threaten the life of the university 
 were it not for the existence of the board of over- 
 seers, 
 
 Mr. Clarke was a loyal child of the university, who 
 felt the value of the training to himself. He could 
 always be relied upon for active work in the business 
 of the overseers, and was always glad to take his share 
 of the details of the work. He early formed very 
 broad plans for the divinity school, plans which he saw 
 
 1 That is, they chose him at the elections of 1866, 1873, 1880, and 
 1886. 
 
 '^ Doctor Dwight says of Harvard and Bowdoin Colleges, that each 
 of them is governed by two boards, -whose business it is to quarrel 
 with each other ; but that Yale College is more fortunate. The ar- 
 rangement at Yale was for one board, which did as Doctor D wight 
 bade it.
 
 EDUCATIOS. 295 
 
 made real in part, while for a part the future is still re- 
 sponsible. He was himself, by well-formed conviction, a 
 positive Unitarian, but no man was more loyal to the 
 Church Universal than he, as indeed a loyal Unitarian 
 should be.^ 
 
 It may be possible that a man who believes in the 
 Westminster Confession, with all his mind and heart 
 and soul and strength, shall do justice to the theological 
 views of Emerson and Parker, and can be trusted in a 
 theological school to present such views fairly. But it 
 is not probable. 
 
 On the other hand, it will not often happen that a 
 professor chosen for his duty because he has repudiated 
 High Calvinism in all its works and ways will give 
 precise respect to the just gradations and the nice de- 
 pendencies of the Westminster Confession. 
 
 Mr. Clarke, therefore, all his life long, was hoping 
 and planning for a real " University of Theology " in 
 Cambridge, where every important communion should 
 be represented by some one who could state its views, 
 its dogmas and its plans, and evep its rituals, in such a 
 way that the members of that communion should think 
 themselves fairly represented. He did not propose to 
 have twenty or thirty professors who had no strong 
 convictions on these dividing subjects. Rather, he 
 wished to have as many as possible who had strong 
 convictions. The man who wrote "Ten Great Reli- 
 gions " was not the man who would wish to have the 
 professors of a divinity school ignore the existence of 
 all religions except Christianity. And the man who 
 
 ^ The only origin of the word Unitarian for which there is his- 
 torical authority must be looked for among the Uniti or Unitarii who, 
 after the Synod of Thorde, gave their assent to the plan of Unity 
 there agreed upon, as a method of mutual toleration among Catholics, 
 Calvinists, Lutlierans, and Socinians. Historically, there can be found 
 no authority for referring the origin of the word to a distinctive belief 
 in the unity of God, which is, indeed, believed in by Trinitarians 
 quite as earnestly as by Unitarians.
 
 296 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 wrote " Truths and Errors of Orthodoxy " would be 
 sure that what is known as Orthodoxy was fairly inter- 
 preted, by its very best advocates, before the pitiless 
 jury of intelligent young men. 
 
 In 1864, Mr. Clarke was made chairman of a commit- 
 tee to consider this subject. He was indefatigable in 
 obtaining information, writing to and consulting with 
 professors and officials of other universities. In the 
 report drawn up by him, and presented in February, 
 1865, to the board of overseers, he says : — 
 
 What your committee are prepared, at this time, to 
 recommend to the corporation and government of the 
 university is, simply to extend to the department of 
 theology the system of university lectures already in- 
 augurated in other departments. 
 
 Let the corporation invite members of different de- 
 nominations to guarantee an adequate remuneration to 
 lecturers taken from among their own best scholars. 
 The most eminent men might thus be brought to Cam- 
 bridge, from among ,the Presbyterian, Baptist, Meth- 
 odist, Episcopalian, or other denominations, to give, each, 
 a course of lectures on some branch of theology. . . . 
 
 If there be such a thing as a university, it ought to 
 have a department of theology; and this department 
 ought to contain professors of every chief school of 
 opinion. What would some of us not give for an op- 
 portunity to attend such a school even now ? What 
 would not all earnest and truth-loving young men, long- 
 ing for solid knowledge in religion, not sacrifice for 
 such an opportunity ? 
 
 This war is breaking up sectarianism. Now is the 
 time to institute siuih a measure, — to try whether in 
 this Christian land we cannot have one school of Chris- 
 tian theology where the student can hear differing and 
 opposing views calmly and honestly stated.
 
 EDUCATION. 297 
 
 TO E. E. HALE. 
 
 March 14, 1867. 
 I inclose you a copy of some letters received by me 
 when attempting to do something to enlarge the theo- 
 logical department of the university. You ma}', per- 
 haps, use to advantage the opinions of some of these 
 gentlemen in your correspondence about the Methodist 
 and Free-Will Baptist schools. How fast things move ! 
 It is only two years since Dr. Walker and some of those 
 to whom I wrote thought all attempts at bringing to- 
 gether the sects at Cambridge chimerical. Now, there 
 seems already a prospect of having there the schools of 
 three other denominations beside the Unitarian, — the 
 Episcopal, Free -Will Baptist, and Methodist. 
 
 He favored every detail of the arrangements which 
 have led to some approach toward such a university in 
 the present constitution of the Cambridge schools of 
 divinity. The divinity school in which he himself 
 was educated now maintains six professors and three 
 other teachers, and the students are permitted to at- 
 tend the lectures given in all the branches of the uni- 
 versity by more than two hundred professors and in- 
 structors. Of the special staff of the divinity school 
 itself, it is understood that three professors are of the 
 Unitarian communion, two of the Baptist, and one of 
 that branch of the Congregational Church of New Eng- 
 gland which has never accepted, as the other has, the 
 Unitarian name. 
 
 During the winter of 1867-68 he lectured on Tues- 
 days and Thursdays to the students at the Cambridge 
 Divinity School. In one of his reports (after mention- 
 ing the Tuesday lesson) he says : — 
 
 On Thursdays I had a lesson with the Senior and
 
 298 DIAEY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Middle classes in Christian doctrine, beginning with 
 Anthropology, and proceeding to Theology proper, Chris- 
 tology, Soteriology, and Ecclesiology. Each of these 
 courses consisted of about thirty lessons. 
 
 During the present year (1868-69) I visit the school 
 only one day in the week, viz., Tuesday. Finding it 
 impossible to give two days to this work, I informed 
 the corporation, through the president, that I was ready 
 to resign altogether, or to give one day instead of two. 
 The president told me that they preferred to have me 
 come one day rather than not at all. 
 
 Accordingly, I now hear the whole school every Tues- 
 day, in Natural and Revealed Religion. 
 
 The course will consist of about forty lessons. The 
 first part will relate to the controversy between Athe- 
 ism and Theism ; the second, to that between Deism 
 and Christianity ; the third, to that between Catholic 
 and Protestant Christianity ; the fourth, to that be- 
 tween Orthodox and Liberal Protestant Christianity. 
 My method is to give out, at the end of each lesson, 
 three or four questions, which are the subject of the 
 next lesson. To these questions I request each member 
 of the class to prepare concise written answers. The 
 answers, being read, are discussed. This occupies about 
 an hour, I then read my own answer to the questions, 
 which occupies from twenty minutes to half an hour, 
 
 I find the young men interested in their studies. 
 They seem to put their minds seriously to the investi- 
 gation and discussion of these questions. 
 
 Rev, C. W. Wendte, at that time a pupil, has given 
 us these recollections : — 
 
 During my stay at the Cambridge divinity school in 
 1868-69, Mr. Clarke was lecturer or professor. His com- 
 ing was an event. His fresh, unconventional methods, 
 his simplicity, piety, and friendliness were delightful to 
 the students, and inspired new life in the school.
 
 EDUCATION. 299 
 
 His courses in Speculative Theology were awakening 
 and kindling, and led to earnest discussion between the 
 students and the professor, and among the students 
 themselves. 
 
 A second series of lectures was on " The Great Re- 
 ligions of the World," and here Dr. Clarke departed 
 from the traditional methods of the school. As in the 
 previous course, his style was conversational rather than 
 formal, and the lecture proper rarely occupied more 
 than a third of the time which was devoted to the sub- 
 ject. At the beginning he assigned to two or more of 
 the class, for their study and report, one of the ten great 
 religions treated. He then selected a question or topic 
 for the evening meeting ; e. g., " What does this speci- 
 fic religion teach about God," ©r " moral obligations," 
 or " immortality ? " 
 
 TO A PROFESSOR IN A THEOLOGICAL SCHOOL. 
 
 What we want is a ministry who look upon their 
 business as really important, and are thoroughly in 
 earnest about it ; who would rather be preachers and 
 pastors than anything else in the world. . . . 
 
 You must give the young men a chance to express 
 freely their notions, even though they seem to you to 
 be crude and foolish. You must encourage them to in- 
 quire and think in their own way, rather than in your 
 way, for if they do not, they will not think at all. I 
 judge of others by myself. If I have ever gained clear 
 and satisfactory convictions, it has been by following 
 out my own thoughts. The inind of a young man who 
 is at all in earnest must go through a process of fermen- 
 tation, and throw off a deal of scum in that way. The 
 business of a wise teacher is to guide and regulate the 
 process, not to try to prevent it. 
 
 He had always desired that among the departments 
 of university instruction more attention should be
 
 300 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 given to the study of modern languages, and in Janu- 
 ary, 1865 (the same winter in which his report in re- 
 gard to enlarging the .divinity school was offered), he 
 presented a report on this subject. He says : — 
 
 Your committee's conviction of the importance and 
 the needs of this department compels it to state em- 
 jjhatically its opinion that injustice is done to the cause 
 of education, and to every class which graduates, by the 
 low position assigned to modern languages in the uni- 
 versity. While Latin, Greek, and mathematics are 
 made obligatory studies during the freshman and sopho- 
 more years, and Latin and Greek during the junior 
 year, modern languages are made elective. During the 
 fii-st year no place is given to them even as elective stu- 
 dies. During the sophomore year French is permitted, 
 but only as an extra. During the junior year one mod- 
 ern language may be taken instead of mathematics, 
 and another instead of chemistry, and during the senior 
 year Italian is also allowed as an elective study. Your 
 committee cannot but consider that the course in this 
 respect has changed for the worse in recent times ; for 
 formerly modern languages were required studies, even 
 in the freshman year. . . . 
 
 Your committee has no prejudice against the Greek 
 language ; its object in this comparison is only to 
 show how little is done for modern languages. It is 
 difficult to see the benefit that it will be to a class of a 
 hundred young, men to know how to write Greek prose, 
 but surely no one can doubt the benefit that it would be 
 to them to be able to write and speak French, German, 
 Italian, or Spanish. Probably no graduate ever will 
 have occasion to write another line of Greek composi- 
 tion ; but if the young man be a lawyer, ability to speak 
 German may help him to clients ; if he be a merchant, 
 to be able to write French or Spanish letters will be of 
 assistance. Perhaps half of every class, sometime in
 
 EDUCATION. 301 
 
 their lives, will have occasion to travel abroad, in which 
 case to speak the language of the country, however im- 
 perfectly, will add infiuitel}' to the pleasure and profit 
 of the journey. And whether the graduate becomes 
 lawyer, physician, clergyman, or man of science, he will 
 find constant benefit in being able to read with ease 
 books and periodicals in each of the modern lan- 
 guages. . . . 
 
 Grant everything that can be said in favor of the 
 study of Greek — the beauty of the Greek language, 
 the richness of its literature, its use as a mental disci- 
 pline : the question remains, Which is the most use- 
 ful ? . . . And may not the intellect be disciplined by 
 useful study, as well as by useless ? We consider the 
 time given to Greek composition as wholly wasted ex- 
 cept as far as the mental discipline is concerned. It 
 does not help, but actually hinders the acquisition of 
 the Greek language and acquaintance with the Greek 
 literature. Every one knows that to learn to read a 
 language and to learn to write it are two wholly distinct 
 mental operations. If a young man spends his strength 
 and time in learning to write Greek, he has just so 
 much less time and strength for learning to read it. 
 One of your committee lately went to ISTew York in 
 company with a young lady, and noticed that she had 
 taken with her a copy of the Greek Iliad to read by the 
 way. How many graduates of our university would be 
 likely to have done this ? Probably very few gradu- 
 ates of Harvard can read a Greek book with facility 
 after having devoted a large part of seven of the best 
 years of life to this study. Yet this young lady made 
 no claim to distinguished scholarship. She had studied 
 Greek simply in order to read Greek books. Conse- 
 quently she had given no more time to philology than 
 was -necessary for this purpose. If the time now de- 
 voted to grammatical minutiae, to the subtilties of 
 Greek words and the pedantry of Greek prosody were
 
 302 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 spent in reading the literature, and if after the first 
 year Greek were made an elective study to be taken 
 only by those who had a taste for it, we should find 
 many more of our graduates amusing themselves on 
 their journeys with Plato or Homer. 
 
 And we cannot but take this occasion to enter a pro- 
 test against the constant tendency to make grammars 
 larger, and consequently worse. The size of grammars 
 has become a sore evil in education. There is not an 
 intelligent teacher in Massachusetts but will tell you 
 that if the Latin and Greek grammars contained a 
 quarter of their present contents, they would be four 
 times as good. 
 
 Your committee knows perfectly well that in reply 
 to all this it will be told about "mental discipline." 
 Mental discipline, however, ought not to be made the 
 excuse for every useless and irrelevant study which 
 takes the place of what would be useful when learned, 
 as well as a discipline in learning. . . . 
 
 Mr. Clarke was also interested in the admission of 
 women to Harvard College, and in 1872 prepared a 
 report on this subject. Although he was chairman of 
 this committee, he was in a minority ; and his report, 
 therefore, was a minority report. He had obtained in- 
 formation from President White of Cornell University, 
 from Oberlin College, from Ann Arbor, from Washing- 
 ton University at St. Louis, and other colleges, as well 
 as many normal schools. He considered the result of 
 his investigations favorable to the admission of women 
 to Harvard ; but the other members of the committee 
 differed from him, and the plan was rejected. 
 
 In 1873 the admission of women to the medical 
 school of the university engaged his attention. On 
 this subject he writes to Kev. E. E. Hale : —
 
 EDUCATION. 303 
 
 Jamaica Plain, March 7, 1873. 
 
 The more I think of it, the more important it seems 
 to me that the arrangement shall be made by which the 
 female medical school shall become a department of 
 the medical school of Harvard University. For this 
 end I am ready to work ; but, unfortunately, I am go- 
 ing to Troy to-morrow for theatre preaching, and have 
 promised to stay there and read on Monday evening, 
 and so shall not be back until Tuesday night. After 
 that I will cooperate with you in raising the $40,000. 
 
 ... I think it important that before beginning the 
 subscription we should have some definite assurance 
 from the trustees of the medical college on the one 
 hand, and the corporation of Harvard University on 
 the other, that by raising the $40,000 the union can be 
 accomplished. Perhaps you already have all the guar- 
 antees that are necessary and attainable at this stage of 
 the proceeding. 
 
 If you decide to do anything, and want my aid, let 
 me find a letter here on my return, telling me what you 
 wish me to do. 
 
 He had at heart every change in the customs of the 
 university which should give more worth to its degrees, 
 by making them expressions of the simple truth, and 
 not forms of respect or compliment. With this view 
 he once draughted the following resolutions, the spirit 
 of which has passed into some of the changes made in 
 the university since that time, although in this precise 
 form they never were accepted by the board of overseers. 
 
 Resolved, That this board recommend to the corpora- 
 tion, 
 
 1. That all the degrees given in the university shall 
 be attainable by examination. 
 
 2. That no honorary degree shall be conferred as a 
 compliment to mere ofiicial position.
 
 304 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 3. That to obtain by examination the degree of Doc- 
 tor of Laws, or Doctor of Divinity, residence shall not 
 be required, and that residence may be dispensed with 
 in the case of Master of Arts. 
 
 4. That in these three departments the university 
 may accept, in place of examination, and as an equiva- 
 lent therefor, any valuable work in art, law, or divin- 
 ity, which work shall be specified in the diploma, men- 
 tioned when the degree is conferred, and recorded in 
 the quinquennial catalogue. 
 
 All his life, Mr. Clarke maintained an interest in 
 astronomical science, and he was personally fond of 
 observing the stars. He enlarged his apparatus for 
 . this purpose from time to time, and in the year 1877 
 built a little platform above his study for an observa- 
 tory, and mounted there a telescope with a four-inch 
 object-glass, which he used, to his great delight, in the 
 study of the heavens. No member of the board of 
 overseers of the college took more personal interest 
 than he did in the Harvard Observatory, and he was 
 for many years chairman of the visiting committee. 
 
 The reader who is trying to see how he divided his 
 time in the last twenty years of his life must give one 
 day in fourteen of each winter to meetings of the board 
 of overseers, or to visits of examination at Cambridge. 
 
 During the same years he was one of the trustees of 
 the Boston Public Library. This service interested 
 him extremely, and he was one of the most active of 
 the board, — always in sympathy with every improve- 
 ment which brought the treasures of the library more 
 easily into the hands of the people, where they belong. 
 Notliing interested him more than the observations 
 which show what people want to read, which are, of 
 course, an admirable test of the range of public education. 
 
 His desire to extend the popular knowledge of astron- 
 omy, and the habit of observing the stars, led him to
 
 EDUCATION. 305 
 
 publish a series of maps of the northern heavens, with a 
 lantern, devised by himself, by means of which the 
 observer may trace the forms of the constellations, and 
 determine the name of a star without having to return 
 to the house to examine an atlas of the heavens. On 
 one side of the lantern slides may be inserted, the light 
 within the lantern shining through perforations in the 
 pasteboard. The differing sizes of the holes indicate 
 the different magnitude of the stars, and their relative 
 positions give the forms of the different constellations. 
 All astronomical maps try to represent something ; but 
 they do not try, as these do, to represent it to a student 
 who is out of doors, and who from the nature of his 
 study wishes to be in darkness. 
 
 A story is told of one of his family who was waked 
 in the middle of the night by hearing steps on the roof 
 near her chamber. In the morning Mr. Clarke acknow- 
 ledged that he was the midnight wanderer, and asked 
 why she did not come out to join him. He had been 
 watching through the night for an occultation of Jupi- 
 ter. This was in January, 1886. 
 
 He was well-nigh a perfect teacher. His Bible-classes, 
 and his classes of history and literature, which in the 
 work of his church he regularly carried on, were stimu- 
 lating and suggestive. He was so fond of young people 
 that they could hardly fail to learn from him. " Every- 
 thing I know of the Norse mythology," said a young 
 student, who will one day be teaching others in the same 
 line, " I learned from him as we sat together, summer 
 evenings, on the piazza." 
 
 His book called " Self-Culture," which embodies not 
 only his theories, but a great deal of the practical expe- 
 rience of his life, has found, probably for that reason, 
 a very general welcome. Up to this present time it has 
 passed through fifteen editions. Perhaps this book may 
 be considered one of his best contributions to the cause 
 of education.
 
 306 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 He read French and German with perfect ease, but 
 he could not readily carry on a conversation in either 
 language. He has told of his trying, in Italy, to get 
 some explanation about the tonsure from one of the 
 clergy in a church which he was visiting. For this 
 purpose he put his questions in his best Latin. The 
 priest thought that Mr. Clarke wanted some one to 
 whom he could confess, and eagerly exclaiming, " Si ! 
 si ! " rushed off to find a priest for the confessional. 
 
 The reader will observe in the letters and diaries fre- 
 quent allusions to drawing. He was never very skillful 
 in drawing, but he enjoyed using his pencil, and often 
 drew the outlines of a mountain or lake view, or of a 
 building which he wished to preserve in his memory. 
 
 In a short speech at the Commencement Dinner of 
 1886, he gives a review of the progress which Harvard 
 College had made since he knew it first : — 
 
 It is said that old men are apt to think that the 
 former days were better than these. I have known 
 Harvard College since 1825, — that is, for sixty years, 
 — and I find it has been improving all the time. I 
 have been on the board of overseers since 1863, except 
 a single year, in which I was excluded by the act of 
 incorporation, and these have been years of remarkable 
 progress in the university. 
 
 1. The choice of the board of overseers by the alumni. 
 When I entered the board, the members were chosen 
 by the legislature. There was a great deal of effort 
 used to be elected ; but as soon as a man was chosen, 
 he seemed to lose all interest in the matter. Only one 
 or two meetings were held in the year, and many never 
 came even to those. The reports of the visiting com- 
 mittee were often hastily written at the meeting at 
 which they were to be presented. Since the board has 
 been chosen by the alumni the greatest improvement 
 has taken place. We have had as members some of the
 
 EDUCATION. 307 
 
 best men in the State and the best friends of the col- 
 lege. The meetings have been frequent, and the dis- 
 cussions earnest and interesting. . . . 
 
 2. Another important improvement has been made 
 in introducing the elective system. The difference be- 
 tvi^een good teaching and poor is that the good teacher 
 leads, and the poor one drives. The most essential 
 qualification of the good teacher is enthusiasm, of the 
 scholar, interest. When the students at Harvard were 
 forced to pursue a plan of study which was unattrac- 
 tive, they had to be driven ; now they have only to be 
 led. 
 
 3. Modern languages. When I came on the board 
 of overseers modern languages were systematically dis- 
 credited. There were four times as many teachers for 
 the two ancient languages as there were for the four 
 modern languages, and a much lower rank was given 
 for proficiency in modern languages than for the same 
 proficiency in Latin and Greek. The doors to the 
 knowledge contained in Greek and Latin books were 
 wide open, but those which admitted to the science, art, 
 and literature of France, Italy, Germany, and Spain 
 were hardly opened at all. Now these languages have 
 full justice done them. In the same way, scientific 
 pursuits have been generously encouraged. 
 
 4. The system of voluntary recitations and written 
 examinations is, in my opinion, a great improvement. 
 Formerly, the only business of a teacher was to hear 
 recitations, and make marks for merit. Now, he has 
 the opportunity of teaching. This is one of the great- 
 est educational discoveries of modern times, — that the 
 business of a teacher is to teach.
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 WORK IN THE PULPIT. 
 
 In Mr. Clarke's earlier letters and. diaries, when lie 
 was still under the rather benumbing influence of the 
 college life of those days, he alludes more than once to 
 his determination to acquire the power of preaching 
 without notes. In Louisville, particularly when he 
 first arrived there, he saw that the habit of the place 
 required ready ability for extempore speaking, and at 
 the first regretted his own deficiency. But so far as 
 such deficiency existed, he soon conquered it. He 
 could not have been in a better school than was afforded 
 him by his seven years in Kentucky. And those who 
 remember his active life, from the time he was thirty 
 years old, remember him as a person who " thought on 
 his feet " with great precision, who spoke easily and 
 effectively, keeping always in sight the end which he 
 had in view at the beginning. The reader will note 
 Mr. Higginson's reference to this power in another 
 chapter of this volume. 
 
 He tried the two methods of preaching, namely, ex- 
 temporizing from brief notes, and writing his sermon 
 in full. Gradually he came to the conviction that by 
 the latter method he was able to say more in the same 
 time, and to say it in a better way. There was also 
 the additional advantage in this method, that what he 
 wrote was ready for publication ; but this was a secon- 
 dary consideration. 
 
 He was accustomed to write the greater part of his 
 sermon on the morning of the day on which it was to
 
 WOUK L\ THE rULPIT. 309 
 
 be delivered, rising early for that purpose ; but the ser- 
 mon had often been carefully thought out during the 
 preceding week. 
 
 The sermons of the last fourteen yea.rs of his life 
 were printed regularly, as they were delivered. A great 
 number of those preached earlier were also printed. 
 There are five collected volumes of sermons : " The 
 Hour which Cometh," " Go up Higher," " Every-Day 
 Keligion," " Common-Sense in Religion," and " Self- 
 Culture." 
 
 It is to be observed in them that he addressed him- 
 self simply and directly to the subject in hand, without 
 introduction in the shape of apology, or explanation of 
 his reasons for dealing with it, and his sermons con- 
 tained none of the " fine passages " which are the terror 
 of the judicious, when the judicious are among the lis- 
 teners. 
 
 His church was filled with hearers, who may be de- 
 scribed under two classes, wholly distinct from each 
 other. First, there was the '' old line " of the Church 
 of the Disciples, a body of worshipers, recruited from 
 almost every class of society, who were interested in 
 his studies for the truth, and followed them in the 
 order they took in his mind. To them there was an 
 organic and vital connection between one sermon and 
 the next, whether the sermons were announced as be- 
 longing to one series or not. They were sorry to lose 
 any one step in such a series, and were singularly regu- 
 lar in their attendance on Sundays. The fundamental 
 principle of a " Free Church " made it easy for people 
 who had few other social ties in Boston to feel at home 
 in the Church of the Disciples, and the congregation 
 had probably a larger share than is usual of new-comers 
 to the city, who began their attendance because at- 
 tracted by its ready hospitality, and continued it be- 
 cause drawn by the sturdy, straightforward earnestness 
 of the preacher, and his entire indifference to popular 
 opinion or the arts of sensation.
 
 310 DIAEY AND CORRESPON DESCE. 
 
 The other class of attendants were strangers visiting 
 in Boston, and other persons, who had read one or many 
 of Mr. Clarke's theological books. The readers of these 
 books, who perhaps had never met with the writings of 
 any other Unitarian, naturally wanted to see and hear 
 him, and they found their way on Sunday morning to 
 the Church of the Disciples. 
 
 It would be difficult to say how many of his sermons 
 were printed. They were often on practical subjects 
 which adapted them to the time, so that reporters and 
 editors were glad to obtain the manuscript, and on his 
 part there was not one shred of literary vanity which 
 hindered him from giving a manuscript for publication. 
 The thing was to be of use. If any one wanted to ex- 
 tend its usefulness, that was enough. He received, 
 therefore, with satisfaction, a proposal from Mr. Parker, 
 the editor of the *' Saturday Evening Gazette," to print 
 his sermons regularly. This paper is published on 
 Saturday at midnight, or later, and was for a long 
 time the only Sunday paper in Boston. On the 25th of 
 October, 1873, the " Gazette " announced the beginning 
 of the series which was continued during the autumn, 
 winter, and spring for fifteen years. There were about 
 five hundred subscribers, I have been told, who took 
 the paper simply for these sermons. They were read 
 aloud, in Sunday services, as Mr. Clarke had occasion 
 to know, in many lands. 
 
 From the outset there was a demand for the sermons, 
 not only from the public, but from clergymen of other 
 denominations. Almost every day's mail brought or- 
 ders for back sermons, new subscriptions for the year, 
 and sums of money with orders to send the " Gazette " 
 to some address named as long as the money would pay 
 for them. 
 
 Among the sermons published during the last years 
 of his life there has been a large demand for the one 
 on " The Mind of Christ," January 22, 1888 ; for the
 
 ^\•OEK 1\ THE FULPIT. 311 
 
 series on " The Unitarian Faith ; " '' Christ and Chris- 
 tianity ; " the " Sermon on the Monnt ; " the fnture life, 
 especially " The Old and New View of the Hereafter," 
 and " Homes in Heaven and on Earth ; " and the clos- 
 ing series on " The Lord's Prayer." 
 
 The intended publication of the sermons in the " Ga- 
 zette " was announced in these words : " In his denomi- 
 nation Mr. Clarke is recognized as, perhaps more than 
 any other, the leading mind, and is held in high estima- 
 tion by all classes of Christians. What he says possesses 
 value and interest to a large portion of the community. 
 The stand he has recently taken in favor of indepen- 
 dence, manliness, and purity in the politics of the na- 
 tion has also much enhanced his reputation, and will 
 have the effect to increase the importance attached to 
 his pulpit utterances. The sermons will be continued 
 from week to week in our columns. . . . The subject 
 of to-day's sermon, which is the first of the series, will 
 be ' Possessed with a Devil.' " 
 
 More than five hundred sermons were published in 
 this series, the last being the last sermon on the Lord's 
 Prayer, which was read to the Church of the Disciples, 
 May 27, 1888, by Mr. Darwin E. Ware. 
 
 When Mr. Clarke was in Boston he regularly called 
 at the printing-office and read his own proof, seldom 
 altering a word.^ All the printers whose acquaintance 
 he thus made personally were fond of him, "indeed 
 they loved him. They took pleasure in obeying his 
 lightest wish, and never forgot or neglected it. He 
 liked to talk, and sometimes to tell stories. His story 
 of Booth and the pigeons is remembered in the print- 
 ing-office. His talk there on death was always inter- 
 
 ^ After he had written anything, a sermon, a lecture, an essay, an 
 article for a magazine or newspaper, he never wished to go over it 
 again to improve the form. He disliked to give his time to a ques- 
 tion of mere literary excellence. The moment he had finished what 
 he had to say he wanted to turn his thoughts to some new work.
 
 312 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 estiug, courageous, and consoling." He would, not have 
 his sermons printed in type as small as nonpareil. He 
 said he respected old eyes as well as young ones. He 
 wanted to have one fixed place, the same in every is- 
 sue. If any poetry Avere to be placed in the corner 
 above the sermon, he sometimes selected it himself. 
 
 He insisted that no advertisements of whiskey or 
 champagne should be placed under his sermons, or in 
 the columns next to them, and sometimes told the edi- 
 tors of other " antipathies," which he hoped might be 
 respected in the " make-up." 
 
 His expectation and wish in early life were to lift the 
 world around him by his work as a preacher. And, as 
 has been said, the work in which to the end of his life 
 he was most interested was that of the Church of the 
 Disciples. But, while his success as a preacher was 
 marked, he was known as an author by thousands who 
 never saw his face or heard his voice. And the reader 
 knows how many of the great needs of his time and 
 country acknowledged the help which his prudent coun- 
 sel, his unflinching courage, and his daily effort gave 
 them. 
 
 In his book called " Self-Culture " he has related the 
 following incident : — 
 
 " When I lived in the West, there came a phrenologist 
 to the town, and examining the heads of all the clergy- 
 men in the place found us all deficient in the organ of 
 reverence. More than that, we all admitted that the 
 fact was so ; that we were not, any of us, specially gifted 
 with natural piety or love of worship. Then he said, 
 ' You have all mistaken your calling. You ought not 
 to be ministers.' But I, for one, protested against that 
 sentence, for I knew that though I had no natural ten- 
 dency to worship or pray, I had come by experience to 
 know that I could not live without prayer. Though I 
 did not pray from sentiment and feeling, I was able to 
 pray from conviction and faith."
 
 WOliK L\ THE FULFIT. 313 
 
 Some of his friends and hearers have recorded the 
 impression made upon them by his preaching at differ- 
 ent periods of his ministry. 
 
 Margaret Fuller, who in 1838 was teaching a school 
 in Providence, Rhode Island, wrote in her diary on 
 November 25 of that year : '•' My friend of other years, 
 J. r. C, has been here and preached ; he will be here 
 two more Sundays. I rejoice in it, both for the pleas- 
 ure of his conversation and his preaching. 
 
 " He is a preacher. In the first place he is really a 
 Christian, revering what is above, loving and pitying 
 what is below, and in manly sympathy, esteem and 
 tolerance meeting what is on a level with him. He 
 does not appeal to the love of beauty, to the fancy, or 
 the restless intellect. His style is somewhat unpol- 
 ished; his sentences somewhat deficient in natural 
 flow ; no exquisite sentiment exquisitely expressed fills 
 the ear and melts the heart. He convinces rather than 
 persuades. In ' simple force direct ' he challenges re- 
 spect and confidence from his hearer, who at once be- 
 lieves that this man will never palsy his own tongue, or 
 seal up the ear of another by the utterance of unfelt 
 truth. J.'s mind is, I think, wholly practical in its 
 tendency. It is quite a strong mind, an aspiring mind, 
 an active, and becoming a clear mind, but its cry is for 
 'action, action, action.' I never heard better prayers 
 than his. He really prays in church." 
 
 John A. Andrew, after hearing him preach for the 
 first time, in 1841, wrote to a friend : — 
 
 " I have forgotten to give you my impressions of 
 Rev. J. F. Clarke. In the first place I liked the flavor 
 of the man. He carried his service as though he felt it 
 a good thing to worship God and wanted the people to 
 feel the same. I liked his sermon thoroughly. It was 
 upon well-seasoned speech. ' Let your speech be always 
 with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how 
 ye ought to answer every man.' And the sermon was
 
 814 DIABY AND CORRESFONDENCE. 
 
 itself a good illustration of the theme. Its spirit was 
 Christian to the core, and did not disturb my Orthodox 
 conscience in the least. I think I felt the catholicity 
 of the man : he did not say a word that could be fairly 
 understood to touch any man's honest convictions uu- 
 gently. The whole service I enjoyed heartily ; and not 
 the least agreeable experience was the being invited to 
 seats at least half-a-dozen times while I was waiting 
 for my friend at the entrance." 
 
 In 1869, a young man who had just graduated from 
 the Cambridge divinity school, and who has ever since 
 been a faithful and efficient minister, wrote : — 
 
 ..." And, dear Mr. Clarke, will you let me tell you 
 how much the services of the Church of the Disciples 
 have helped and cheered me during the past two years. 
 I could not attend as frequently as I wished, yet I 
 never came without being made truer to myself, and so 
 to God. 
 
 " I have so many pleasant memories in connection 
 with your Sunday-school that it would have been very 
 pleasant to be with them once more. ... It always 
 gave me new inspiration and strength to see how de- 
 votedly some of those blessed teachers labored for the 
 little children. 
 
 " And I wish to say also that although I have felt it 
 my duty to disagree with you on some points of theol- 
 ogy, yet I have always listened to your preaching with 
 genuine interest and benefit. You have been very help- 
 ful to me, and I feel regret that my anticipated removal 
 is to take me away from a church whose members I 
 love and whose minister has brought me nearer to hu- 
 manity, and so, nearer to God." 
 
 This characteristic incident is related by Kev. J. W. 
 Chadwick : — 
 
 " I have many pleasant memories of Dr. Clarke, and 
 one which, I am sure, is all my own. Just before the 
 'Battle of Syracuse,' as Mr. Abbot calls it, I met Dr.
 
 WORK m THE PULPIT. 315 
 
 Clarke at Albany, in the early morning. There was an 
 hour or more to spare before the train started west- 
 ward. ' Let us take a walk,' he said ; and we strolled 
 away together, and in a short time came upon a little 
 conventicle in which a religious service was going on. 
 "We went in, and found a company of twenty or thirty 
 people, looking somewhat dreary and depressed, a very 
 humble set of worshipers, of what special sect or creed 
 I do not know, nor why met at such an early hour. 
 The talk was very poor, with much iteration of the con- 
 ventional phrases of the conference meeting. When 
 there came a pause Dr. Clarke stood up and asked if he 
 might say a few words. Permission was granted, and 
 he moved forward till he faced the little company. 
 Then he spoke for about ten minutes with a sweetness, 
 a tenderness, a serious beauty that I never shall forget. 
 He said in conclusion, ' "We have never met before, and 
 it is not likely we shall ever meet again, but I am glad 
 to have taken part in your meeting and to have spoken 
 to you a few words.' "We went out. I had almost 
 heard the people listen as he spoke. He made their 
 faces shine." 
 
 The following friendly tribute is from Rev. S. "W. 
 Bush : — 
 
 "I knew him for more than forty years, but was 
 brought into closer relationship with him when editing 
 the ' Christian Register.' Then I loved and revered 
 him more and more. For years he was one of our regu- 
 lar contributors ; bxit we never could induce him to 
 Avrite unless he had something to say. Even when his 
 own opinions were controverted he would only reply 
 when it was necessary to put the subject in a clearer 
 light. He was one of the easiest of public speakers to 
 report, because his thought was arranged in logical or- 
 der, and presented with point and directness. He had 
 what Matthew Arnold calls ' lucidity.' He threw light 
 on the subject in hand, and with sentences easily under- 
 stood.
 
 316 DlAIiY AND COHltESFOXDENCE. 
 
 " He was one of the fairest men in the discussion of 
 a subject I ever knew. This was still more evident in 
 his private judgment of an opponent. We had many- 
 illustrations of this in the editorial office." 
 
 FROM REV. THOMAS L. ELIOT. 
 
 I recollect once going into a conference meeting at 
 Saratoga, after traveling alone all the way from Port- 
 land, Oregon. The first words I heard Avere from Mr. 
 Clarke. He was speaking of how people orphan them- 
 selves, and forget that God is their Father. He said, 
 "I met a lady the other day who began to pour her 
 troubles bitterly into my ears. She had no one to help 
 her ; no one understood her. I asked her, ' Have you 
 not forgotten your best friend ? Have you told your 
 troubles to God ? '" I have never forgotten the tone in 
 which Mr. Clarke spoke ; the reverence and assurance 
 seemed to take all loneliness out of the world, and 
 make the hour a real meeting of the spirit of Trust and 
 Grace ; tears ran down my cheeks, and some one be- 
 gan the hymn, — 
 
 " Love for all, and can it be, 
 Can I hope it is for me ? " 
 
 FROM A CHARGE AT AN ORDINATION. 
 
 ... We recognize the fact that we belong not only 
 to the finite, but the infinite, — that around the world 
 of time is that of eternity ; we wish to root our lives in 
 the deep soil of infinite ideas. . . . 
 
 " Come," they say to you, " come and be the friend of 
 our souls. Seek for truth, and help us to seek for it. 
 We have nothing to draw with, and the well is deep ; 
 help us to obtain that living water. The world is too 
 much for us ; we are too much away from God. Oh, if 
 thou canst lead us into that state of nearness to God in 
 which he shall be to us as a father, and obedience to 
 him the law of our life, the friendship formed to-day 
 will be of all others the most blessed ! "
 
 WOEK IN THE FULPIT. 317 
 
 Truth is the food of the soul, thought is the garment 
 of life ; but " the life is more than meat, and the 
 body than raiment ; " and a man Avhose aim is high, and 
 his heart in it, shall find his hearers fed as are the 
 birds of the air, not by man, but by God. . . . 
 
 Expect to see men born again under your preaching ; 
 expect this, and you will witness it. But be patient, — 
 be very patient. You do not know how much is to be 
 done, and how much God is doing. Be then both hope- 
 ful and patient, expecting everything that God is able to 
 give, satisfied with anything that he chooses to give. 
 
 I charge you to be a builder. You might acquire 
 more notoriety by pulling down, but you will do the 
 most good by building up. . . . While you are a re- 
 former, cultivate the moderation which avoids ultraisra, 
 not by neutrality, not by lukewarmness, not by taking 
 neither side, but by taking a hearty interest in both sides 
 of truth. ... It is easy to see and denounce the ex- 
 travagances and iniquities of others, but to go before 
 them, showing them a more excellent way, — this is 
 harder. 
 
 Finally, my brother, I charge you to study and to 
 preach Christ. You will find God in nature and his- 
 tory ; you will find God in the intuitions of eternal 
 truth which move your own soul. . . . But except you 
 also preach God in Christ, there is a large portion of 
 human experience before which you will stand helpless. 
 To the sinner God comes with pardon and comfort only 
 in that manifestation of love which has beamed upon 
 the world from the cross of Calvary. Learn to know 
 and to preach Christ as the friend of the sinner, as a 
 manifestation of God's love to the despairing prodigal. 
 Announce a present Saviour, a present salvation, to those 
 on whose conscience the burden of sin lies heavy, and 
 you will find that your words will go from your lips 
 freighted with a power of persuasion which will soften 
 the hardest heart and bend the most stubborn will.
 
 318 DIARY AND (JOUHESFONDENCE. 
 
 On the evening of February 28, 1884, he spoke to the 
 students of the Cambridge divinity school on " The 
 Evolution of the Minister." Near the close of this ad- 
 dress he said : — 
 
 Work grows more interesting all the time. The 
 work of the Christian minister becomes so interesting 
 that he hates the idea of dying. . . . We always have 
 a great deal more to say, a great deal more to do, and 
 take more interest in saying and doing. 
 
 The greatest possible blessing to the minister is to 
 believe that whenever a duty comes to him there is a 
 power somewhere to help him to do it ; that there is 
 a great fountain of spiritual life ready to flow into his 
 soul whenever he really needs it. I think we have a 
 right to believe this. If a duty comes to us which we 
 feel unable to perform, then is the time to say, " I can- 
 not do it without help ; but because the Lord has sent 
 me this work he will give me wisdom and strength and 
 love for it." We should never be discouraged; we 
 should be able to say Avith the apostle, " When I am 
 weak, then I am strong." 
 
 FROM THE ''MONTHLY JOURNAL," ON THE "EDUCATION' 
 OF A CHURCH." 
 
 The business and work of a church is to grow ; to 
 grow up in all things into its head, who is Christ. It is 
 a delightful work, than which there can be nothing more 
 satisfying. " The most beautiful of lives," says Lord 
 Bacon, " each day to find one's self somewhat better." 
 Where there is growth, mental and moral, all the evils 
 of life disappear ; the grand sense of progress abolishes 
 them all. This destroys the evil of age, for what if the 
 body grow old, since the heart and thought continue 
 young ; this, the evil of poverty, since the soul is 
 growing rich, and is able to make others so ; this, the 
 evil of sickness, since what is the harm of sickness while
 
 WOBK IN THE rULFIT. 319 
 
 health reigns within ; this, of solitude, since the mind 
 is compassed about with a cloud of companions ; this, 
 of bereavement, since to the open eye of faith our loved 
 ones have only gone before where we are following. A 
 church with an advancing life, deepening its convic- 
 tions every year, enlarging its knowledge, growing more 
 generous, more loving, more full of good works, filled 
 with a deeper humility while it ascends into a loftier 
 piety, like the lofty cedars of Dryden, which 
 
 ..." as far upward shoot 
 As to the nether heavens they drive the root," — 
 
 such a church would deserve the name adopted of late 
 by a religious society, and might truly call itself a church 
 of " Progressive Friends." Progress with friendship — 
 what more could one desire ? 
 
 FROM A LETTER TO A YOUNG MINISTER, WHO HAD 
 ASKED HIS ADVICE ABOUT MINISTERIAL WORK IN 
 THE WEST. 
 
 Pastoral work is that which tells. If a church is to 
 be built up strong, united, active, it is by action on in- 
 dividuals, not upon congregations. Preaching is their 
 baptism ; pastoral work is their confirmation. The 
 ceremony of confirmation in the Episcopal Church is 
 only the outward sign of a great reality ; the reality 
 is the change by which a hearer of the word is changed 
 into a doer. 
 
 Do not complain of being persecuted. Persecution in 
 our days is a joke. I never feel ashamed of being a 
 Unitarian, except when I hear Unitarians complain of 
 being persecuted. 
 
 Let negation be for the sake of subsequent affirma- 
 tion. Do not let denying end in denial; but always 
 pass on to something positive. 
 
 Treat reforms frankly and kindly in the pulpit as 
 you would in the parlor. Do not be savage to show
 
 320 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 youi" independence. Kegard those who differ from you 
 as your friends, not as opponents to be refuted and put 
 down. 
 
 The end of Christian preaching is to make men abound 
 in hope tlirough the power of the Holy Ghost. It is 
 not to make them abound in opinions through the power 
 of argument, nor to abound in anxiety through the 
 power of the law, nor to abound in self-satisfaction 
 through the power of rhetorical flatteries ; but it is to 
 make them abound in hope through the power of the 
 Holy Ghost. It is to bring them to God, and make 
 them feel his divine nearness ; to lift them out of dark- 
 ness into light ; to enable them to feel their sins for- 
 given, and their hearts full of peace and joy. 
 
 FROM HIS SERMONS. 
 
 This is a very simple test of genuine faith in Christ. 
 If you have faith enough in Jesvis as the Christ of God 
 to enable you to undertake his work of saving your fel- 
 low-men from sin and misery here and hereafter, you 
 may be sure that you have the true faith. But if you 
 have not the courage to do this work, then, though you 
 preach faith in Christ as the Omnipotent God, and utter 
 that doctrine with the tongue of men and angels, yet 
 you prove by your own cowardice in the presence of 
 evil that you have no real faith in him as an actual 
 Saviour of actual men and women. 
 
 Do you know of any case of vice or sorrow which it 
 seems almost impossible to relieve or cure ? Go and 
 see if God will not work a miracle through your mind 
 and heart, giving your actions and words a power not 
 their own, so that you can make the blind see, the lame 
 walk, and raise up the dead. You must go in faith, 
 however, trusting entirely that if the thing ought to be 
 done God will give you strength to do it. You must 
 go also in the spirit of prayer ; not, necessarily, with 
 the prayer of words, but with that essential prayer
 
 WORK IN THE PULPIT. 321 
 
 which consists in keeping one's self in a condition of 
 faith and hope, leaning on God. 
 
 Of all the holy things which God has made, the most 
 holy is man himself. He is the temple of God; for 
 the spirit of God dwells in him, and wherever a human 
 being stands, there stands something greater than the 
 Temple at Jerusalem. God has made man in his own 
 image, with power of insight, capacity of affection, en- 
 ergy of action. The mysterious depths and heights of 
 his nature we do not yet half understand. His expe- 
 rience in this world has meanings and objects of which, 
 as yet, we have hardly an idea. His destiny in the 
 other world, the depths of being which he shall sound, 
 the heights of knowledge which he shall climb, eternity 
 alone can reveal. 
 
 The churches keep alive this sense of the greatness 
 of humanity. ... If I did not go to church for any- 
 thing else, i should go for this. The sermon might be 
 stupid; then I should not listen to it. The prayers 
 might not suit me ; then I should pass them by. The 
 music might grate on my ear ; I should try not to hear 
 it. One would stand before me greater than the Tem- 
 ple ; greater than its liturgy, its prayers, its priests, its 
 ritual, — my brother man, bowed before my Father, 
 God. 
 
 That which makes this earth seem solid is not the 
 rocks and mountains that are in it, but the love that is 
 in it. Love, joining hands with faith and work, makes 
 our life rich and full. These three, neither of them 
 alone ; work which is done in love, love which is born 
 of faith. And it is a blessed thing that the longer we 
 live thus the more beautiful the world becomes, the 
 more rich and precious our life seems. It is the young 
 who are oftenest tired of life. As we live on, we seem
 
 322 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 to grow younger, not older ; we find ourselves coming 
 nearer to God and man ; we grow more like little chil- 
 dren in our hearts. Beautiful is age when it does not 
 become hard and cold, but grows evermore full of faith 
 and love. The old man looks backward through a life 
 in which he has learned to know the wonders of na- 
 ture ; to know the heart and thoughts of many varieties 
 of human beings ; in which he has done faithfully his 
 part in the world in his own place. He looks back over 
 the long perspective, and he sees how kindly God has 
 led him on ; how he has been taught by disappointment 
 and success ; how he has gone deep into his own heart, 
 gathered up wisdom, become truly free by self-control 
 and self-direction ; how he has ceased to think of God 
 as Power and Law only, and come to think of him as 
 Friend and Father. And he wonders that he ever could 
 have been weary of life ; he feels the infinite riches of 
 the universe, and thanks God, in the depths of a happy 
 heart, for the gift of existence.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 VARIED ACTIVITIES. 
 1865-1880. 
 
 The war had broken up every man's plan of life. 
 Whatever other obligations he might have, his duties 
 to his country, if he were a man of honor, took prece- 
 dence of all others. And with Mr. Clarke, as with the 
 rest of his countryme>n, whatever work might occupy 
 him during that period, it was carried on with the un- 
 derlying aim of making it serve his country's welfare. 
 But when the war was over, the interests to which he 
 had given his time in previous years were continued on 
 a larger scale than ever, until he began to feel the pres- 
 sure of years a little before his death. His diaries 
 speak of work in the cause of education ; of frequent 
 visits to the Normal Schools at Framingham, Bridge- 
 water, and Salem ; of meetings of the Board of Educa- 
 tion, meetings of the Freedman's Aid Society, meet- 
 ings of the board of overseers of Harvard University ; 
 of lectures to the Cambridge divinity students ; of his- 
 tory classes in his own church ; of Sunday evening lec- 
 tures ; of Wednesday evening lectures on the Apostle 
 Paul ; these entries and many others show that his life 
 was a busy one. 
 
 If one can say it good-naturedly, it is fair to say that 
 with the emancipation of the slaves, some of the old 
 war-horses of the anti-slavery movement found them- 
 selves at a loss as to their own personal future. They 
 were glad the slaves were free, but they did not know
 
 324 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 what they were to do next. So the fond mother of an 
 only child is glad when her daughter is married to the 
 man she loves ; but all the same, when the bride is gone, 
 she finds her own home very empty and her days long. 
 Cynical Philistines, therefore, would tell us that the 
 old anti-slavery leaders looked round in their hunger 
 for a new philanthropy, and picked up woman suffrage. 
 But no man can say this of Mr. Clarke. He is on 
 record as committed to this cause from a very early 
 period, and his interest in it belongs to the whole sys- 
 tem of his life. 
 
 Colonel Higginson has kindly given us a careful 
 sketch of his relations to this reform. 
 
 J. F. C. AND WOMAN SUFFKAGE. 
 
 Every one who was brought into intercourse with 
 James Freeman Clarke in the woman suffrage move- 
 ment must recall his presence with pleasure, partly 
 from the important service he rendered to it, but more 
 because his action on this point was, like all else he 
 did, the simple outgrowth of his peculiarly straightfor- 
 ward and equable nature. For instance, he always 
 rested its main argument not on the assumed superi- 
 ority of woman, — an argument which proves too much, 
 yet into which so clear-headed a man as Theodore Par- 
 ker conspicuously fell, — but on the simple ground of 
 her equality of gifts and needs with man, and hence 
 her right to be represented in government equally with 
 him. If, as Theodore Parker maintained in his " Dis- 
 course of Woman," the voice of women on all subjects 
 will be incomparably superior to that of men, the ques- 
 tion will naturally arise whether it is better to risk 
 demoralizing a creatvire so elevated, by admitting her 
 to a sphere where man has, perhaps, been lowered. But 
 if we take the ground, as Dr. Clarke was accustomed to 
 do, that she is simply to be viewed as a human being, 
 with the shortcomings, risks, and limitations of a human
 
 VARIED ACTIVITIES. 325 
 
 being, and that she will undoubtedly make mistakes 
 and exhibit inconsistencies as a voter, then the case is 
 a great deal stronger. 
 
 I remember that this strong, common-sense quality 
 of his mind was once strikingly shown in a speech 
 made, I think, at a Washington convention in 1871. 
 Some question had been raised as to how women would 
 be likely to vote if enfranchised, and he undertook in 
 his accustomed straightforward way to answer it. He 
 explained that no snch anticipations were at all neces- 
 sary to the argument, which rested on natural right or 
 recognized need. He pointed out, also, the difficulty 
 of prophesying as to any newly enfranchised class. 
 " But," he said, in substance, " there are a few things 
 which can safely be predicted." Then it would have 
 been natural to expect him to go on by lauding the ele- 
 vated qualities of women and showing how admirably 
 they would vote, as if by intuition, when they got the 
 opportunity. Not at all. He said, amid general atten- 
 tion, "The first visible result of women's voting will 
 probably be a great increase of majorities in all elec- 
 tions. The reason is plain. Women, being new to pol- 
 itics, will very largely imbibe their first opinions from 
 their fathers, brothers, husbands, or pastors. A few, 
 from independent thought or even from natural con- 
 trariety, will vote against these advisers, but the bulk 
 of women will vote with them. Hence, at the first 
 elections, wherever there has before been a Republican 
 majority of fifty, there will be likely to be a Eepublican 
 majority of a hundred. Wherever, on the other hand, 
 there was a Democratic majority of a hundred, there 
 will now, very likely, be one of two hundred. If there 
 is any especial local or temporary excitement, among 
 the men, the new voters will be apt to throw themselves 
 into it, with the ardor of their sex, and will swell 
 the majority very greatly, one way or the other. But 
 this will be temporary, and women will soon learn to
 
 326 DIAliY AND CURRESFON DEy C K. 
 
 vote according to their own individual judgment, as 
 men do." 
 
 I have stated all this in substance, as well as I can, 
 but the point was then wholly new to me, and new 
 points were rather uncommon in that discvission, for those 
 of us who had been long in it ; so that it impressed me 
 very much, and I am sure of having retained the essen- 
 tial features of the statement. And any one who studies 
 the history of the vote of Boston women on the school 
 question, for instance, last year and this, will already 
 find a striking illustration of Dr. Clarke's foresight. 
 The vote last year had the character of a crusade, and 
 was essentially the carrying out by women of a move- 
 ment initiated, wisely or otherwise, by men ; Avhereas 
 already, as it seems to an outside observer, those same 
 women are voting more discriminatingly and are apply- 
 ing their own judgments to the views of their pastors 
 and their husbands. 
 
 I remember in connection with that same convention 
 an admirable instance of Dr. Clarke's sensible and good- 
 natured way of dealing with vexed questions. The con- 
 vention took place during what has always been known 
 as the " WoodhuU period " of the agitation ; and the 
 feeling of the local advocates of woman suffrage in 
 Washington was strongly enlisted in favor of Mrs. 
 Woodhull and her methods, to which the organization 
 which we represented was quite opposed. On coming 
 to the hall where the convention was to be held, we 
 found that the representatives of the Woodhull party 
 had practically taken possession of the approach to the 
 hall, and had a table where their documents were being 
 sold and distributed, while the seats within the hall 
 were already flooded with their publications. All re- 
 monstrance was in vain ; it only increased the excite- 
 ment ; and some of the members had begun to talk of 
 appealing to the police for protection, when Dr. Clarke 
 arrived, and, on hearing the grievance stated, said
 
 VAhlED ACTIVITIES. 327 
 
 serenely, " 1 think we had better take no action about it. 
 If you will let me explain the matter to the audience, 1 
 think that I can easily make it understood." Accord- 
 ingly, soon after the meeting was opened, he got up and 
 said, in his usual clear and simple way, looking round 
 upon the audience, with the utmost good-nature beam- 
 ing through his spectacles, words like these : " As the 
 officers of this society came into the hall, we noticed 
 lying about on the seats and in the passage-way a great 
 many publications with which we have nothing to do. 
 None of us have read them, and they may contain some- 
 thing exceedingly good, of which it would be very un- 
 just for us to claim the credit. Or they may contain 
 something that we should disapprove, and it would 
 then, of course, be unjust to hold us responsible. At 
 any rate, they are none of ours, and the audience must 
 judge of them by what they say, and of us by what 
 we say." This moderate and kindly statement, with a 
 little dash of humor behind it, put the whole thing in a 
 satisfactory position and predisposed everybody towards 
 a candid hearing ; so that the convention went on to a 
 triumphant success, which might have been wholly lost 
 if it had begun with a wrangle. I have thought of it 
 more than once, since then, when I have been at politi- 
 cal conventions with Dr. Clarke, and have seen him dis- 
 arm opponents by some pithy and good-natured state- 
 ment, which secured victory, or at least peace, without 
 the crossing of bayonets. I was not present at the Re- 
 publican convention where he helped to turn the scales 
 in an important debate by the remark, " A bolt is al- 
 ways in order," but I suppose it to have been an exer- 
 cise of the same fortunate faculty. It is, as all public 
 speakers know, one of the rarest of gifts. 
 
 Dr. Clarke always appeared to great advantage in 
 any public discussion. In the quiet of his own study, 
 carried on by strong convictions, he could sometimes 
 work himself up into quite a polemic vigor, and was not
 
 328 DIARY AND COHHESFOJS DENCE. 
 
 always, 1 think, quite just to theological antagonists ; 
 but whenever he was brought face to face with a man, 
 even if a strong opponent, his natural kindliness always 
 came uppermost, and he met controversy with imper- 
 turbable good-nature. This is, I think, opposite to the 
 common experience, for many men who can write mild- 
 ly enough are carried beyond themselves by meeting 
 their adversary face to face on a platform. At any 
 rate. Dr. Clarke was of peculiar value on the woman 
 suffrage platform ; not merely from his entire inde- 
 pendence and courage, — qualities which came so natu- 
 rally to him that it hardly seems worth while to speak 
 of them, — but from his breadth of view, strong com- 
 mon-sense, good-nature, and good judgment. 
 Cambridge, December 11, 1889. 
 
 The letters which follow give a glimpse of the years 
 between 1865 and 1881. 
 
 TO s. s. c. 
 
 February 24, 1865. 
 
 I shall send you to-morrow a copy of my lecture on 
 Mr. Emerson's religious speculations. I have had it 
 printed in " The Traveller." . . . 
 
 March 6. 
 
 My time is so taken up that I do not write more than 
 a page before I stop to do something else. Shall I give 
 you my diary for last week, exclusive of calls, etc. ? 
 Sunday, — Wrote and preached a sermon ; attended a 
 funeral ; heard a Bible-class of twenty young men in 
 Church History ; went to a meeting for Women's Hos- 
 pital, and made a speech. Monday, — Went to meeting 
 at office of Charles G. Loring, about Children's Aid 
 Society ; to meeting about another society ; drove to 
 Brookline to see my friend, Mrs. Wells. Tuesday, — 
 Saw engineer about making road to Brook Farm ; wrote 
 ordination sermon ; went to Westboro to deliver it.
 
 VARIEU ACTIVITIES,. 329 
 
 Wednesday, — Came from Westboro ; wrote the annual 
 report of the school committee of West lioxbury ; pre- 
 sided two hours at school committee ; presided at social 
 meeting of church in evening. Thursday, — Prepared 
 lesson for class in history till 11.35 ; to Boston, and 
 then to Newton, to see sick lady ; back to Boston, and 
 to history class from 3 to 5. Friday, — Spent some 
 time with Governor Andrew ; saw General Macy about 
 Eliot's going into the army, which he wishes to do ; 
 evening to hear Agassiz' lecture. Saturday, — Meeting 
 of board of overseers at State House, in forenoon, etc. 
 
 Everything seems to come at once. Meeting of 
 board of education; meetings of board of overseers, 
 of school committee, of executive committee of A. 
 U. A., of Freedmen's Aid Association, of Children's 
 Aid Association, of Protective War Claim Association ; 
 putting through a road to Brook Farm, which takes no 
 end of talking ; visiting public schools ; writing report 
 on divinity school ; report of school committee ; report 
 on modern languages. . . . 
 
 TO HIS DAUGHTER, WITH HIS COPY OF " COLERIDGE, 
 SHELLEY, AND KEATS." 
 
 June 4, 1865. 
 This book I bought in 1830, when I was twenty years 
 old. I had just left college, and entered the divinity 
 school. I was poor, and it was a good deal to me to 
 pay $7.50 for a book. But the American edition of this 
 work had not then been published, nor had there been 
 then printed, even in England, a complete edition of 
 either of these poets. So I imported a copy of this 
 Paris edition, and had a great deal of pleasure out of it. 
 During the winter of 1830-31 I lived with my mother 
 in Ashburton Place, and after keeping school all day at 
 Cambridgeport, I passed the evening with my family in 
 my brother Sam's room, he being confined to bed with 
 rheumatism. After I went to my room at night, at
 
 330 UIAhY AND CORitESFONDESCE. 
 
 eleven or twelve o'clock, I would read awhile in this 
 book, and I hope that you may have as much pleasure 
 out of it as I had then. 
 
 TO A. F. C. 
 
 December 22, 1867. 
 
 Governor Andrew's death seems to make all things 
 different to me. I have had him so long for adviser 
 and friend that I miss him every day. . . . 
 
 I have begun my work at Cambridge. I find the 
 young men very pleasant, and I get along with them 
 very well. But it takes a great deal of time. I am to 
 preach the election sermon next week, — a great insti- 
 tution. . . . 
 
 He was always glad when an invitation came to him 
 such as he here mentions, because it gave him a fitting 
 opportunity to address a large audience on the subject 
 of national sins and national obligations. On this occa- 
 sion he spoke of the application of the principles of 
 Christianity to legislation ; of the reform needed in the 
 management of prisoners ; of the government of chil- 
 dren in the public schools ; and also, at some length, he 
 advocated giving suffrage to women. 
 
 TO A. H. C. 
 
 Pigeon Cove, July 15, 1869. 
 
 ... I have written a note to Mr. Call to ask him to 
 advertise (for next Sunday) a sermon on " Woman Suf- 
 frage, in reply to Dr. Bushnell." I hope you will see 
 no objection to this. Some one ought to say it, why 
 not I ? I have Dr. Bushnell here, and am reading him. 
 If it rains more I shall write my sermon. 
 
 Cora and I roamed about together a great deal yes- 
 terday. I took her out in a boat, we went in to swim, 
 we went into the woods, and I read to her from Mrs. 
 Stowe ; then we went and lay on the rocks.
 
 rAm±:D avtivities. 331 
 
 In 1869, Mr. Clarke went to Illinois to see a total 
 eclipse of the sun, and afterwards took a trip over the 
 prairies with his brothers, three of whom lived in the 
 West. 
 
 TO L. F. C, IN EUROPE. 
 
 Milwaukee, August 12, 1869. 
 
 As I did not go to Europe to see Switzerland with 
 you, I determined to go to Illinois to see the total 
 eclipse of the sun. . . . 
 
 Burlington is in Iowa, on the Mississippi, not far 
 from the central line, and a corps of astronomers were 
 already collected to observe the phenomenon. A large 
 field was assigned to them, and a police force to guard 
 it ; and therein your uncle Sam and I took our places 
 with my telescope, which I carried out with me. 
 
 It had rained for two days, but the great day came 
 without a cloud. Never was such a field-day for the as- 
 tronomers ; they were prepared to attack the sun along 
 the whole line of total obscuration from Alaska to 
 North Carolina. Parties were posted with telescopes, 
 spectroscopes, and photographic instruments on both 
 sides of Behring's Straits, at Sitka Sound, on the Pa- 
 cific ; in Montana, Nebraska, Iowa, Illinois, Kentucky, 
 Indiana, Virginia, and North Carolina. 
 
 At last, at the predicted moment, the moon impinged 
 on the edge of the sun's disk. It moved on, eating out 
 a larger and larger piece, till at last the sun became a 
 crescent ; the sky grew gray, the air chill, the foliage 
 and grass became leaden, all faces gathered paleness. 
 The crescent became an edge of light, a line of light, 
 but still it blazed and dazzled. Suddenly it broke into 
 beads of light, then these disappeared till only one re- 
 mained. This one point blazed with a brilliancy daz- 
 zling the eye, and then disappeared ! At that moment 
 came a phenomenon which no language can describe. 
 Suddenly, in place of this dazzling, blazing sun, there 
 was seen, in mid-heaven, a black sun, surrounded by a
 
 332 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 luminous waving border of the purest white light. This 
 corona or halo did not blaze nor dazzle, like direct sun- 
 light. Pure and snowy in its celestial beauty it waved 
 around the black sun and flashed out on every side far 
 into the darkened heavens. On the right of the sun, at 
 the same moment, appeared Mercury. Venus glittered 
 above, and other stars. They suggested to me the lines 
 in an old English play : — 
 
 " Let it be mentioned 
 
 They served but as small tapers, to attend 
 
 The solemn flame of this great funeral." 
 
 The sky had seemed cloudless up to the moment of 
 complete obscuration. But then, along the horizon, in 
 the north and south came out suddenly a mass of angry, 
 stormy, yellow clouds, as though some great fire were 
 blazing on the prairies, or a terrific thunder-storm were 
 at hand. Just then, too, on the lower edge of the black 
 moon came out a spot of ruby or carmine color, a little 
 protuberance which grcAV larger and larger very rapidly, 
 while similar rosy clouds grew out into the white corona 
 on other parts of the lunar circumference. These were 
 masses of burning hydrogen gas, blazing up from the 
 surface of the sun into the solar atmosphere, and one of 
 those which we saw was computed to ascend a hundred 
 thousand miles while we were looking at it. Conceive 
 what a frightful hurricane of flame this must be to be 
 seen so large, and moving so fast, at the distance of 
 ninety-six millions of miles ! And yet these enormous 
 tornadoes of flame are so insignificant compared with 
 the sunbeams that a single ray of sunshine hides them 
 all. They have never been seen except in a total 
 eclipse. 
 
 Hundreds of photographs were taken at the different 
 points, and these we shall be able to see. But the 
 eclipse itself was such a wonderful phenomenon that 
 I would willingly have gone the next day twelve hun- 
 dred miles farther to see it over again.
 
 VARIED ACTIVITIES. 333 
 
 TO A. H. C. 
 
 August 19, 1869. 
 I am at present in Kinnikinik township, Wiscon- 
 sin, about ten miles east of Hudson on tlie St. Croix 
 Kiver, and twenty north of Prescott on the Mississii)pi. 
 Five brothers and our nephew Freeman are in one 
 room^ lying about the floor at a farmhouse ; grouse 
 fields and trout brooks all about us. Around are pic- 
 turesque bluffs, like the cliffs above the Khine, with 
 miles and miles of fertile valleys between, great fields 
 rolling in waves of golden wheat. Abraham and I 
 arrived yesterday afternoon, and before dark we six 
 brought in twenty grouse, some of which we had for 
 breakfast. I have not fired a gun before since 1850, in 
 Meadville.^ The air is as pure and fresh and delicious as 
 that of Mount Desert. I drink in health at every pore. 
 
 Hudson, Wis., Sunday, August 22, 1869. 
 We left " the farm " last evening, and came here to 
 pass Sunday ; Sam came Friday. . . . To-day I shall go 
 to church and enjoy the comfort of listening to a ser- 
 vice. This town is on Lake St. Croix, an expansion of 
 the St. Croix River. It is in the midst of great wheat- 
 growing farms, and is a thriving place. Being also in 
 the midst of trout streams, deer-licks, and grouse, the 
 inhabitants seem to make sport their business, and treat 
 their business as sport. Every man you meet is ready 
 to turn the key in his office door, put up a placard " To 
 be back to-morrow," and go with one gladly to hunt or 
 
 ■* During his earlier visits to Meadville he would occasionally take 
 his gnn when he went to walk in the woods, which were full of game ; 
 but in December, 18.50, he writes to his mother from Meadville : " I 
 have been obliged to promise the children not to go a-gunning any 
 more, they felt so badly when I brought home birds or a rabbit. I 
 brought a rabbit the other day, and Ellie came to me with a very 
 solemn face and whispered, ' Papa, you have broken the Golden Rule, 
 you have, really." I thought he was more than half right-"
 
 334 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 iish. The landlord of this hotel spent yesterday after- 
 noon fishing in the lake with Sam. . . . 
 
 I should be very willing to turn my face homeward 
 to-morrow, but I wish to tempt William to prolong his 
 stay. ... I waded two hours on Friday in the Kinni- 
 kinik Eiver, and caught two trout, a trout an hour. 
 William waded four or five hours, and caught about 
 twenty. . . . 
 
 Hudson, Wis., August 23, 1869. 
 
 . . . We are going down the river to-day on our way 
 to Milwaukee. Yesterday I went in the morning to the 
 Presbyterian church, and heard a good sermon on '•' Re- 
 creations," defending their legitimate use. In the even- 
 ing I went to a different church, and heard a discourse 
 from the text, " Keep thy heart with all diligence, for 
 out of it are the issues of life." The preacher argued 
 that Solomon must have known the circulation of the 
 blood, and hence the Bible was inspired ! He thought 
 also that Job must have known that the solar system 
 is moving toward the Pleiades when he said, "Canst 
 thou bind the sweet influences of the Pleiades ? " I 
 hope I do not use such foolish arguments as these. . . . 
 
 Milwaukee, August 26, 1869. 
 . . . We waited at Prescott till about eleven p. m. for 
 the St. Paul steamer on its wa}^ down the river. By 
 that time the weather had become beautifully clear, and 
 a moon nearly full threw the most enchanting light on 
 the river and the high hills on its banks. William and 
 I sat on the guards enjoying the lovely night, and talked 
 till almost three o'clock about old times, — his journey 
 thirty years ago from Mackinaw up to the head of Lake 
 Superior in a canoe, and then down the Mississippi, 
 when there was scarcely a white settler above Prairie 
 du Chien. Then I slept an hour, and rose at four and 
 watched the morning slowly dawning over the river and 
 hills. During the forenoon we passed scenery so fine
 
 VARIED ACTIVITIES. 335 
 
 that I think it worth a journey here to see it. We 
 reached La Crosse at one p. m., and were obliged to 
 stay there till nine p. m., waiting for a train. The day 
 was intensely warm. I went out and found a place 
 where, under the shade of some trees, we could enjoy a 
 cool draught of air. It is true the trees had been cut 
 down and sawn into boards, and the location was be- 
 tween two piles of boards of sweet piny perfume and 
 terebinthine aroma. A thunder-storm toward night 
 cooled the air somewhat. 
 
 I shall go to Chicago, preach there on Sunday and 
 then set out for home. 
 
 TO HIS SISTER, IN ROME. 
 
 December 28, 1869. 
 . . . Boston pursues its ancient way and is what it 
 was, only more so ; lectures here and lectures there, 
 learned societies, literary reunions, no end of new pub- 
 lications ; meetings, — morning, noon, at dewy eve, and 
 silent night. The city rushes and roars with business, 
 like the Ohio in a freshet, or the yellow Tiber : — 
 
 ..." retortis 
 Littore Etrusco violenter undis." 
 
 . . . All night the city rushes with ardent crowds in 
 pursuit of knowledge at lectures, or in pvirsuit of pleas- 
 ure at theatres and balls. . . . 
 
 As for me my business this winter is as follows : I 
 am giving four series of discourses, viz., four sermons 
 on the questions between atheists and theists, four on 
 the questions between Christian theists and others, four 
 on the questions between church authority and that of 
 reason, four on the questions between broad and narrow 
 Christianity. These on Sunday mornings. I am pre- 
 paring for publication in the spring, volume i. of " Com- 
 parative Theology of Ethnic and Catholic Religions," 
 to be published by Fields & Osgood. I hope to finish it 
 in time. Then I write somethinsr for each number of
 
 336 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Hale's new magazine, which has swallowed, silentlj^ 
 with ' capacious throat, both the great " Christian Ex- 
 aminer " and the little " Monthly Journal." ... I have 
 my weekly lecture to the divinity students at Cam- 
 bridge, my Wednesday night lecture to my church, pas- 
 toral visits, and occasional theatre preaching, and ly- 
 ceum lectures. 
 
 ' ' So happily the years of Thalaba go by." 
 
 TO E. E. HALE. 
 
 November 8, 1870. 
 I expected to see you last night at the [Examiner] 
 Club. I write to say that I am engaged to lecture on 
 Thursday night at Grantville. I am sorry if this disap- 
 points you, and will go to you some other time. 
 
 Did you find my little poem ? And what do you 
 think of appending the moral, — 
 
 The Christ-like child seekest thou ? Go not apart — 
 But be a child thyself, and he is in thy heart. 
 
 Please let them send me the proofs of " Wanted, a 
 Statesman." 
 
 TO W. G. ELIOT. 
 
 August 19, 1871. 
 Thank you, dear William, for your very kind and 
 bright letter. I cannot stop now to answer it ; but I will 
 only say that if you have been tempted to envy me for 
 anything I have been enabled to do, I also have often 
 experienced that amiable sentiment when I have con- 
 sidered your magnificent work. I suppose we all un- 
 derrate what we have, and overrate what we have not. 
 But the man of action, who can translate thought into 
 life, who can root it in institutions, who can direct and 
 control men, is at least equal to the man of books. 
 
 " Weak-winged is song, 
 Nor aims at that clear-ethered height 
 Whither the brare deed climb» for light."
 
 VARIED ACTIVITIES. 337 
 
 The man who has done your work and developed 
 such power need not wish for any other man's gift. 
 
 TO A. H. c. 
 
 Washington, December 9, 1871. 
 
 I had a good time in Philadelphia, — went to see Dr. 
 Furness and the Lesleys ; to Germantown to see Re- 
 becca Bond. Saw the philosophical-instrument maker 
 about my lantern. Mr. Lesley was much pleased with 
 the lantern, and said the only wonder was that it had 
 not been invented before. ... I came to Washington 
 on Thursday, and lectured for Mr. Hinckley Thursday 
 evening. Mr. Boutwell, Mr. Twitchell, and other gen- 
 tlemen were there and asked me to come and see them. 
 I have spent an hour with Charles Sumner in his house, 
 where he showed me all his pictures and works of art. 
 
 Last evening we had a very good opening meeting 
 of the [Woman] Suffrage Association. The speakers 
 were Mrs. Stone, Mrs. Howe, and myself. The hall 
 was full of an attentive audience, including Senators 
 and other members of Congress. To-day the meeting 
 goes on, morning, afternoon, and evening. I shall lunch 
 with Mr. Twitchell, and then, perhaps, go with him to 
 see the President. For Cora's sake I shall see the Agri- 
 cultural Museum, and for my own sake the Congres- 
 sional Library. To-morrow I preach in the Unitarian 
 church in the morning, and in the theatre in the even- 
 ing. 
 
 TO HIS SISTEK, IN ROME. 
 
 February 15, 1872. 
 To-day is with us a sacred anniversary. Shall I ever 
 forget that morning when our dear child's life was 
 slowly ebbing away, and all that love and thought and 
 prayer could do was — nothing. It seems yesterday 
 only, and the unappeasable sorrow, the wound that 
 will never close, is in our hearts all the same as then.
 
 338 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 So much he might have been, done, become. So much 
 to his mother, sisters, brother. Such a tie he was to 
 this world and the next. . . . The " scar of that deep- 
 stabbed woe " may be hidden, but it aches still after 
 twenty-three years. 
 
 Dear Sarah, why does the time go by, and we have 
 no more to say to each other ? The stream of time 
 rushes along so rapidly as it nears the cataract that 
 two boats, though near each other, are effectually sepa- 
 rated by the forceful river. 
 
 TO E. E. HALE. 
 
 October 9, 1872. 
 I have found an article in the "Revue des Deux 
 Mondes " for August 1st, giving an account of the open- 
 ing of the University of Zurich to women in all de- 
 partments, especially in the medical faculty. It speaks 
 in high terms of the success of the enterprise. I have 
 translated it, and thought of preparing an article on the 
 general subject, in which it is to be introduced. Would 
 you like it for your " Record of Progress " ? 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 Jamaica Plain, March 5, 1873. 
 
 . . . To-day Anna and I went to the State House, 
 where I made a little speech before the committee to 
 which was referred Mr. Whittier's petition, urging the 
 legislature to rescind their vote of censure on Charles 
 Sumner. Mr. Whittier had asked me to go and speak. 
 . . . We have been having a series of interesting meet- 
 ings in our church on Wednesday evenings, on the 
 charities of Boston. The subjects, thus far, have been : 
 
 " What is doing here for animals ? " 
 
 " What is doing for young men ? " . ■ 
 
 " What is doing for street-boys ? " 
 
 " What is doing for infants ? " 
 
 " What ir3 doing for the poor ? "
 
 VARIED ACTIVITIES. 339 
 
 To each of these meetings I have invited experts, — 
 persons connected with the various charities, — and 
 they have compared notes, and given much interesting 
 information. We have had Catholics and Protestants, 
 Orthodox men and Unitarians, — and the lion at these 
 meetings has lain down with the lamb, and the lamb 
 has not been inside of him, either. . . . 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 April 9, 1873. 
 Our dear old friend " Don " ^ has gone to the place, 
 wherever it may be, that good dogs go to. Surely he 
 has a right to some happy home, if ever a dog had. He 
 never was cross, never out of temper; he overflowed 
 with love and devotion to all of us. To be near us was 
 happiness enough for him. The best peojjle have their 
 moods, — Don never had any. He died of gradual de- 
 cay ; he has been fading aAvay " to the land of the 
 leal " for some months. Life had become a burden to 
 him, — his bright eye was growing dim, his joyful 
 nature torpid. At last, on Fast Day, April 3, he crept 
 away to the shelter of a large tree, and laid himself 
 down at its root, led by that curious instinct which tells 
 dogs when their death is at hand. There he lay, with- 
 out moving or eating, till the afternoon of Friday, April 
 4, and then sank gently into death. A few minutes 
 before he died he lapped a little water from Lilian's 
 hand. We buried him under the tree next day; and 
 our hearts have been sad ever since. He was one of 
 the family. It will seem lonely not to see him about 
 the yard when we come home. I shall put a stone over 
 him, with his name and the words, " Amavlt multum.^^ 
 
 1 " Don " was a Newfoundland dog, who had passed all his life in 
 the family.
 
 340 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 TO A. H. C. 
 
 Louisville, Ky., May 5, 1873. 
 It seems very natural to be writing from Louisville, 
 — though the Louisville of to-day is widely different 
 from that to which I came forty years ago. It is now 
 a splendid, beautiful city. Mr, Hey wood's house, where 
 I am, is better than any house that then existed in 
 Louisville ; more tasteful, convenient, and desirable as 
 a residence. It stands in the midst of a green garden, 
 with shrubbery around it. , . . We reached Louisville 
 at eight a. m. on Saturday, and I called the same day on 
 Judge and Mrs. Pirtle, Mary and Eliza Speed, Mrs. 
 Speed and Martha, her daughter, and Philip and Emma. 
 They were all glad to see me. Yesterday I gave a les- 
 son to the Sunday-school, of which Mr. Munn is super- 
 intendent, preached morning and evening to large con- 
 gregations, and took tea at Judge Pirtle's. The judge 
 is very deaf, but has the same sweet smile he used to 
 have. Mrs. Pirtle is sick, confined to her chamber, but 
 saw me there ; and one of her grandchildren was bap- 
 tized yesterday afternoon. . . . 
 
 TO A. H. C. 
 
 Louisville, May 6, 1873. 
 . . . Yesterday I spent another hour with Eliza and 
 Mary Speed, took tea with Philip and Emma, and went 
 to a sociable at the church, where I gave some reminis- 
 cences of former days in Louisville. I have shaken 
 hands with a hundred people, for Mr. Heywood wishes 
 me to see all his friends. . . . Eliza Speed told me how 
 staunch a patriot her mother had been during the war, 
 and how her little nephew, Philip's youngest son, had 
 refused to shout for Seymour when his schoolfellows, 
 rebels, held him out of the upper window of the school- 
 house, and threatened to drop him if he would not. I 
 drove out with Mr. Heywood, Mr. Belknap, and Judge
 
 VARIED ACTIVITIES. 341 
 
 Ballard, to dine with Joshua Speed, Mr. Lincoln's 
 friend. Joshua told me many anecdotes of Abraham 
 Lincoln, and gave me a letter of his. On my return, I 
 saw a Colonel Whitman, who was in Kansas with John 
 Brown, and told me anecdotes about those days. . . . 
 
 In Louisville I have bathed in memories of the past, 
 and, as Dryden says, " The weight of years and cares 
 fell from me " in these recollections of youth, hope, and 
 the beginnings of experience. How poor life would be 
 without such recollections ! 
 
 TO MRS. G. S. HILLARD. 
 
 New York, June 18, 1873. 
 My dear Mrs. Hillard, — I received your note 
 yesterday, and am very glad you asked me to go and 
 see X. I will certainly do so. I always feel when 
 any request comes to me to see any one in trouble, as 
 though the Lord sent it to show that he takes an inter- 
 est in me. Some persons think their sins forgiven 
 when they have a feeling to that effect. I think God 
 forgives us our sins whenever he allows us to do any- 
 thing for each other. So, when such a request as yours 
 comes to me, I seem to hear the Lord saying, " Son, be 
 of good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee ! " . . . 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 Jamaica Plain, July 11, 1873. 
 My trip to the West was very pleasant. I went to 
 Chicago, Milwaukee, Louisville, Cincinnati, and Mead- 
 ville. I Avent with good Mr, Heywood to Louisville, 
 and passed three or four days, preached twice, and 
 found many old friends, as warm-hearted as ever. I 
 had a delightful time. Among other visits I enjoyed 
 one to Joshua Speed, who went to Illinois when about 
 twenty-two or twenty-three years old, and kept a store 
 in Springfield. One day Abraham Lincoln came into 
 his store, and said, " Mr. Speed, I have opened an office
 
 342 DIAHY AND COBUESPONDENCE. 
 
 in this town, and I have a bedstead, but I want a mat- 
 tress, pillow, blankets, and sheets. I cannot pay you 
 now, but perhaps I can after the next court ; what 
 will be the cost ? " Mr. Speed replied, *' Seventeen dol- 
 lars," and Mr. Lincoln looked alarmed. Mr. Speed said, 
 " You need not pay me till you are ready, Mr. Lincoln ; 
 there is no hurry about that ; but, if you prefer, you 
 may share my room overhead ; it is a large room." 
 " How do you get to it ? " asked Mr. Lincoln. Mr. 
 Speed pointed to stairs in the corner. Mr. Lincoln 
 went up, deposited his saddle-bags in the corner of the 
 chamber, came down, and said, " I 've moved in, Mr. 
 Speed." They occupied the same room five years, and 
 Mr, Speed remained always Mr. Lincoln's most intimate 
 friend. He said that Lincoln was free from all vices. 
 He never drank nor gambled, but spent his time in 
 hard study over his cases. Mr. Speed told me many 
 other interesting stories about Lincoln. 
 
 TO H. W. BELLOWS. 
 
 December 22, 1873. 
 I was delighted to receive your cordial and friendly 
 note, and to learn that you were well enough to read 
 my book and to write to me about it. I received a let- 
 ter the same day from Mr. Weeden, who said that all 
 you needed was six months' rest, and that then you 
 would be as well as ever. This was good news, for w^e 
 cannot spare you yet, nor for a long time to come. I 
 do not think they need you as much in the other world 
 as we do. Therefore I beseech you to take a good six 
 months' rest somewhere, where no one can get at you ; 
 where you cannot preach, lecture, write, or be consulted 
 with on any business, theological, philanthropic, lit- 
 erary, social, or political Let us keep on working to- 
 gether here, and when our work is well done, perhaps 
 we can go together and visit our friends on the other 
 side of the beautiful river which men call the stream of
 
 VAEJEU ACTIVITIES. 343 
 
 Death, but which the angels doubtless call that of Life 
 infinite and eternal. 
 
 I thank you heartily for the warm sympathy you 
 have always felt with every effort of mine to say or do 
 anything useful. It has been very grateful to me, and 
 has encouraged me to new endeavor. . . . There is one 
 point in which you and I are alike, — in our efforts, we 
 have always written, spoken, and acted to do good, not 
 thinking of literary position or fame. 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 Jamaica Plain, February 12, 1874. 
 
 It gave US all unmitigated pleasure to hear of your 
 Nile-boat trip. Next to going myself, is my joy in 
 knowing that you are there, and perhaps I am more 
 glad at having you in Egypt than if I myself were 
 meditating in the tombs of Beni Hassan, or examining 
 the hieroglyphs of Karnak. There are cases when the 
 law maxim, "Quifacit jser aliiimfacit per se," applies to 
 sight-seeing ; and one of these is when we have such an 
 observing and recording friend as you are to do our 
 traveling for us, and save us the trouble of going to 
 " Arabia the stoiw, Sabaea the gummy." 
 
 It is a pleasure to think of you lazily creej)ing along 
 on the surface of the Eiver of the Pharaohs, surrounded 
 by reminiscences of Moses and his bulrushes, and bask- 
 ing with the crocodiles in unchanging warmth, while we 
 shiver over our registers, and pass through the classical 
 routine of colds, coughs, rheumatisms, bronchial affec- 
 tions, and pulmonary disabilities. You amuse your- 
 selves with pyramids and sphinxes ; while we have 
 nothing more venerable than our Old South Church. 
 
 See, then, with all your eyes ; listen, with all your 
 ears ; and be able to give us, when you come back, the 
 last news from the Fourteenth Century B. C. Mean- 
 time we must give you all the news we can of our busy 
 ant-hill life in Boston. , . . With the exception of colds,
 
 344 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 which this year are more numerous and obstinate than 
 usual, we are well here. Lilian enjoys her class with 
 Mr. Hunt. Our church is full every Sunday, so I do 
 not think that any apoplexy is getting into my sermons 
 as yet. They are now being printed every week in 
 full in the " Saturday Gazette ; " and I have directed 
 them to be sent regularly to you in Eome ; but I do not 
 suppose that you will receive any of them at the upper 
 cataracts, or find advertisements of them placarded on 
 the ruins of Denderah. 
 
 Recently I made a visit to the Schuylers in New 
 York, and spent a week there, enjoying myself much. 
 They had a little dinner-party for me every evening. 
 Two very interesting English people were also guests 
 in the house, Mr. and Mrs. Laurence Oliphant. . . . 
 Mr. 0., after having figured as London man of society, 
 author, traveler, diplomate, now belongs, with his wife 
 and his mother (Lady Oliphant), to a religious com- 
 munity on Lake Erie, under the leading of T. L. Harris. 
 I also saw, in New York, Clarence King, the California 
 mountain-climber and geologist, who showed me his 
 photographs of the Sierra Nevada. ... In Boston, I go 
 to two clubs, the Examiner Club, where we discuss 
 grave moral and social questions, and the Thursday 
 Club, where we have scientific lectures and papers. . . . 
 
 We see by the papers this morning that the Massa- 
 chusetts Senate has repealed the vote of censure on 
 Charles Sumner, passed by a previous one. The House 
 will probably do the same. The real motive of the cen- 
 sure on Sumner was his opposition to Grant, and the 
 people have compelled the political leaders to rescind 
 their anti-Sumner resolutions. 
 
 There are people in Boston who think, with Rob 
 Roy, that 
 
 " Of old things, all are over-old ; 
 Of new things, none are new enough."
 
 VARIED ACTIVITIES. 345 
 
 So they are for pulling down the Old South Church, and 
 cutting down the Paddock elms on Tremont Street. 
 
 To you, who are looking at buildings erected oOOO 
 B. c, this may seem a small matter, but we are fighting 
 in sermons and newspapers for our antiquities, trying, 
 but I fear trying in vain, to check that desolating tide 
 which will soon make of Boston a third-rate Chicago. 
 
 If we have to lose the Old South Church, perhaps 
 you can console me by bringing me some Egyptian an- 
 tiquity. I authorize you to buy for me an authentic 
 mummy of Joseph or Cleopatra, or a papyrus auto- 
 graph of the decree ordering Pharaoh's baker to be 
 hung, or of that allowing Moses to go with the Israel- 
 ites out of Egypt. Even the signet ring of INIenes, if 
 you come by it, or a scarabaeus which belonged to Se- 
 sostris, would content me. But do not trouble your- 
 self to find these little souvenirs of the past. After 
 all, a piece of Roxbury pudding - stone is older than 
 any of them. 
 
 Well, dear Sarah, have a pleasant time ; and when 
 you get back to Rome, I shall think you are close by. 
 You must feel then as if you had emerged from a grim 
 past into modern times. -The papacy will appear a 
 thing of yesterday, and the Arch of Titus of the day 
 before yesterday. We shall welcome you back, with 
 joy, to our " little life of strut and rave," and all our 
 " pasteboard passions and desires." 
 
 He has told us in his Autobiography about the college 
 class of '29, to Avhich he considered it his good fortune 
 to belong. Mr. May was (and is) secretary of the class. 
 
 TO SAMUEL MAY. 
 
 Jamaica Plain, February 6, 1874. 
 Dear Sam, — It is very good of you to speak of me 
 as you do ; but I seem to myself to have been a very
 
 346 DIARY AND COHliESFONBENCE. 
 
 poor sort of a worker, and I can almost take to myself 
 Wordsworth's lines, 
 
 " But he is weak, both man and boy, — 
 Hath been an idler in the land, 
 Contented, if he can enjoy 
 
 The things which others understand." 
 
 The things I most wished to do, I have never done ; 
 the things I have done best, I have only half done. I 
 have lived " cm jour lejour," and merely tried to do the 
 nearest duty. The first sermon I ever preached had for 
 its text (it was preached in the school) what I meant for 
 the motto of my life, " Whatever thy hand finds to do, 
 do it with thy might." I have kept this ideal before 
 me, though I have never fulfilled it, — whatever my 
 hand found to do, the thing which lay at hand ; not what 
 the heart desired, not what the ambition aspired to, not 
 what the will chose, but what the hand found. I have 
 always believed in Providence, and so have never de- 
 sponded ; I have always trusted in the essential good- 
 will of my fellow-men, and have not been deceived. 
 This life I have held to be sweet, and the next life at 
 least as good as this. Cheerfulness and contentment 
 have kept me well, so far as I have kept well, both in 
 body and mind. I have come nearer to God every year, 
 finding in Him love which is always law, and law which 
 is always love. My creed has grown shorter every year, 
 until I now put it into four words, " From God, for 
 man." 
 
 . . . Some day, when I am taken from you, in out- 
 ward presence, but not in heart, — for wherever in 
 God's universe I may be, I shall think of our dear class 
 still, — you will perhaps read to them this note, kept in 
 your book till then, and so they will hear me once more 
 speaking to them, and telling them to believe that we 
 shall come together somewhere in the vast beyond. 
 Truly yours, 
 
 James Feeemax Clarke.
 
 VARIED ACTIVITIES. 347 
 
 In 1874 a broncliial trouble obliged Mr. Clarke to go 
 to the South. He left home March 18th (accompanied 
 by Mrs. Clarke), and was absent nine weeks. During 
 the journey he everywhere investigated the condition of 
 the colored people, went to their schools, attended ser- 
 vice at their churches, and talked with them while they 
 were at work in their little patches of prospective corn 
 or cotton. At Beaufort, S. C, they visited Mr. Clarke's 
 parishioner. Miss Botume, who for ten years had been 
 teaching a colored school near there. On Sunday they 
 attended the afternoon service in the schoolhouse, five 
 miles distant, and at its close Mr. Clarke spoke to the 
 earnest little group of worshipers. Before separating, 
 the people crowded into one of the recitation rooms and 
 had a " shout," which consisted of a sort of chant, ac- 
 companied by a measured, shuffling movement, round 
 and round in a circle. It was not easy to distinguish 
 the words, but one of the women repeated over and over, 
 " Oh, Lord, I 'se so lonesome. Oh, Lord, I 'se so lone- 
 some." After the shout, every one in the schoolhouse, 
 men, women, and children, shook hands with Mr. and 
 Mrs. Clarke. One of the women said, " I hope you '11 
 arrive safely at home, if ever you live to get there." 
 Many of them had kind words to say, and all seemed 
 like friends. On Monday, the whole day was passed at 
 the school, which was on Old Fort plantation, a pic- 
 turesque place, which takes its name from a Huguenot 
 fort, whose remains are still visible. On this plantation 
 Dr. Nehemiah Adams wrote his " South Side View of 
 Slavery." His favorite seat was shown, in a grove of 
 live-oaks, from whose branches depend the long, sway- 
 ing drapery of the Southern moss. Mr. Clarke meas- 
 ured one of these trees, and found the distance be- 
 tween its outermost tips to be 120 feet. During the 
 war these weird trees witnessed a memorable scene. 
 On the first day of January, 1863, the colored people 
 came from every direction, — from Beaufort, Port Royal,
 
 348 DIARY AND VOERESPONDENCE. 
 
 St. Helena, Lady's Island ; from " the Main ; " from 
 every accessible place, — they and their white friends, 
 and the United States troops in the vicinity assembled 
 in this grove, and there one of the officers read to the 
 group President Lincoln's Emancipation Proclamation, 
 which took effect that day. As the last words left the 
 speaker's lips, there burst forth the hymn, " My country, 
 't is of thee." From this moment it was their country 
 also. The war was only half over, but in those sea 
 islands the battle of Hilton Head had restored the con- 
 trol of the United States government. 
 
 Mr. Clarke felt a personal interest in the people on 
 Old Fort plantation, having heard the story of their 
 lives from Miss Botume,^ and now he walked about the 
 place and saw them peacefully cultivating their little 
 patches of ground. One woman, who was at work near 
 the schoolhouse, invited Mr. Clarke to plant some cot- 
 ton-seed, and said she would send him the first ripe 
 boll, which promise she fulfilled. 
 
 Their next visit was to Miss Laura Towne on St. 
 Helena island. When the sea islands had come back 
 into the possession of the United States government, 
 Miss Towne had gone down there to remain for life 
 with the freed-people, to teach and counsel and in every 
 way help them in their efforts to rise in the world. 
 
 On the island was a church which before the war had 
 been used by the planters, not however to the exclusion 
 
 1 One good old man, Smart Washington, had by his labor accumu- 
 lated enough to build a little cabin, and he and his wife took in a 
 paralytic woman, who had no claim upon them except her helplessness. 
 One day, when " Uncle Smart " was at work elsewhere, his little cabin 
 took fire, and as the efforts of the occupants were all needed to save 
 the paralytic, it was burned to the ground. When the old man re- 
 turned and saw the ashes of his much-prized little home he bowed his 
 head and said : '' If it be Him will it ought to be my pleasure, and 
 it shall be." It is perhaps unnecessary to add that when Mr. Clarke 
 told the story from his pulpit, and added that a hundred dollars 
 ■would build another cabin, the church responded by sending the old 
 man that sum and something over for other necessaries.
 
 VARIED ACTIVITIES. 349 
 
 of the colored people, for a place in the church had 
 been set apart for them. Now the congregation was 
 wholly of colored people and their teachers from the 
 North. The pulpit was usually occupied by a colored 
 minister ; but he, on being introduced to Mr. Clarke, 
 politely invited him to take his place on the following 
 Sunday. That, as it happened, was Easter, and also 
 Mr. Clarke's birthday, and away from his own pulpit 
 and people he was glad of the opportunity offered him 
 of preaching in the church on St. Helena. 
 
 He remained over Monday, in order to be present at a 
 monthly meeting of an organization formed among the 
 children to promote temperance. 
 
 During a drive on St. Helena island a dwelling-house 
 was pointed out, from the upper balconies of which the 
 families of the planters had watched the battle of Hil- 
 ton Head, on the issue of which depended their con- 
 tinued possession of their homes or their flight to " the 
 Main." 
 
 Mr. Clarke spent some weeks in North Carolina, and 
 returned by Richmond, Washington, and Philadelphia, 
 reaching home May 22d. He was in his pulpit on 
 Whitsunday, which was the 24th. 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 October 26, 1874. 
 . . . We were beginning to wonder a little where you 
 were, and what doing. . . . Your letter explained what . 
 we might have understood : that when one goes in pur- 
 suit of Dante through the mysterious recesses of the 
 Apennines, where he seemed to love to hide himself, 
 one is apt to get away from post-offices and such mod- 
 ern contrivances. Why did he journey off to such an 
 extent ? Why did he write his " Divine Comedy " in 
 such a multitude of castles, and climb the stairs of the 
 stranger to such an amazing extent ? But I suppose 
 that in those days any one in Italy opposed to the pope
 
 350 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 was hunted about very severely and hardly knew where 
 to lay his head. . . . Since I last wrote you I have been 
 to the Unitarian Conference at Saratoga, to Chicago 
 and Milwaukee with Cora, to Portland, to the Republi- 
 can Convention at Worcester, to Keene, N. H., to 
 preach, to the top of Monadnock, to Lowell to preach, 
 and to Concord, N. H., to a wedding. . . . 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 June 6, 1876. 
 
 I received your good, long letter on my return from 
 Kentucky, where I went with Cora and Eliot, and stayed 
 at the house of Philip and Emma Speed. I was glad to 
 have my children see the kind friends of my earlier 
 days, who continue as kind as ever, and, with their chil- 
 dren, welcomed mine with all their old Kentucky hospi- 
 tality. After having assisted at a Western conference 
 of Unitarians I went with E. and C. to the Mammoth 
 Cave, which they both enjoyed. Then C. and I re- 
 turned to Philadelphia and spent a week with Tom, go- 
 ing every day to the exhibition, which is certainly an 
 extraordinary and wonderful sight. It is " the Parlia- 
 ment of man, the federation of the world." 
 
 The nations from all the five continents and all the 
 islands have met in a grand cordial emulation in doing 
 the works of peace, — " Parthians, Medes, and Elam- 
 ites," speaking in one tongue of useful labor. 
 
 I go again to Cincinnati this week as a delegate to 
 the convention of Republicans to select a candidate for 
 the presidency. We shall try to get a good man this 
 time. 
 
 TO J. T. FIELDS. 
 
 Jamaica Plain, August 19, 1876. 
 . . . Mrs. Clarke and I are to go to the Adirondacks 
 on Tuesday. Then farewell, for a time, bustle and busi- 
 ness, fuss and free-trade, preaching and politics, saving 
 the Old South, and such like vanities. Welcome, then,
 
 VARIED ACTIVITIES. 351 
 
 long solitary rows on the lakes framed in lonely moun- 
 tains, sweet sleep on hemlock bonghs, unbroken days, 
 with time enough and to spare, days not chopped up 
 into mince -meat by the multitudinous avocations, 
 thicker than leaves in Vallombrosa. We shall return, 
 no doubt, homesick for all these tormenting daily 
 cares ; homesick also for our friends, among whom we 
 gratefully reckon yourself and the fair lady whom you 
 call " The Dame." 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 December 3, 1876. 
 
 ... I sent you my Thanksgiving sermon, in which, 
 as you may see, I said a good word for our Southern 
 brethren. I have received several letters about it, 
 mostly approving ; among others, one from that old anti- 
 slavery war horse, Parker Pillsbury, who thanks me 
 warmly for it. 
 
 . . . This has been my " Annus Politicus," and I am 
 glad it has come to its end. It is curious that I, who 
 dislike politics, and have so much else to do that I like, 
 should be dragged into it, 7iolens volens. 
 
 TO E. E. HALE. 
 
 September 29, 1877. 
 
 Dear Edward, — Why do you ask me to do for love 
 of you what I cannot do because the " stern daughter of 
 the voice of God " has given me something else to do ? 
 
 I should have enjoyed going to Springfield ; I should 
 three times over have enjoyed doing anything for you, 
 but I was obliged to deny myself the meeting because 
 of the absolute necessity at this season of avoiding dis- 
 tractions, and keeping my poor brain to its work. For 
 the time is short in which I am to finish my tasks, and 
 there are, at this season, somewhat less than twelve 
 hours in the day. 
 
 Therefore sadly and unwillingly, but as one who has 
 profited by James Walker's teaching, I am obliged to 
 say Xo, but am still yours, Ja:m-f,?. _
 
 352 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 April 6, 1878. 
 ... I went on Thursday evening to our club, where 
 Prof. A. Agassiz gave a highly interesting account of 
 his deep-sea dredging in the Gulf of Mexico. . . . We 
 also had an interesting account of the fur-seal islands 
 off Alaska. . . . But the most extraordinary feature of 
 our club this evening was the exhibition, by Professor 
 Dalton, of a phonograph. ... It seemed a pure piece 
 of magic, and when I thought of this realization of 
 Munchausen's story of the notes frozen in a bugle, 
 I saw that imagination could conceive of nothing which 
 science would not realize. 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 April 11, 1878. 
 ... I send you herewith a curiosity, some of the 
 first cotton raised by free labor on Jefferson Davis's 
 plantation in Mississippi. When our troops got posses- 
 sion of the country one of Davis's slaves, named Dick 
 Montgomery, a very smart fellow, bought his master's 
 plantation, to which he afterwards added two more. 
 This cotton was some of the first raised by him, and 
 was brought to me by a friend, Mr. Lombard, who also 
 told me that this Montgomery became rich, and when 
 Jefferson Davis once came to a place on the river near 
 the plantation, Montgomery went in his carriage and 
 brought his old master and friends to the new house he 
 had built on the site of the old one, which our troops 
 had burned. He gave them a sumptuous entertainment, 
 and insisted on waiting at table as of old. This is an 
 example of the delicacy and real gentlemanly feeling 
 often found among the colored people. 
 
 Mr. Clarke's seventieth year found him in the full 
 enjoyment of active work. But perhaps its approach
 
 VARIED ACTIVITIES. 353 
 
 had reminded him that he must not delay putting into 
 outward shape those books that he most wished to 
 finish. The publication of these, as he approached the 
 year 1880, came at shorter intervals. In 1877, he 
 printed a volume of sermons," Go up Higher." In 1878 
 were published " Memorial and Biographical Sketches," 
 " Essentials and Non-Essentials," and the little book, 
 " How to Find the Stars." In 1879 came " Common- 
 Sense in Religion." 
 
 His seventieth birthday was kept by a happy meet- 
 ing of his friends at the Church of the Disciples. It 
 was a pleasure to him that his life-long friend, William 
 Henry Channing, was able to be present. When he and 
 others, among whom were Eev. Henry W. Foote, Mrs. 
 Julia Ward Howe, and Dr. 0. W. Holmes, had brought 
 tributes of friendship in poem, song, and story, Mr. 
 Clarke himself was asked to let them hear his voice. 
 
 After dwelling for a few moments on the earlier in- 
 cidents and influences of his life, he said : — 
 
 On leaving college I hesitated about a profession, at 
 first intending to study law. I cannot be too thankful 
 that I was finally led to decide for the ministry. Kever 
 for an hour have I regretted it. To spend one's life in 
 communion with the loftiest themes of thought, to have 
 work bringing us into intercourse with the wise and 
 good of all times, to be offered year after year opportu- 
 nities of helping and blessing our fellow-men, to be able 
 sometimes to be a mediator to others of God's truth 
 and grace — what can be a better lot than this ? 
 
 I do not mean to say, by any means, that I have 
 always accomplished, or even attempted, the good I 
 might have done. Looking back to-day, I see enough 
 of time lost, opportunities neglected. 
 
 " Let the thick curtain fall; 
 I better know than all 
 How little I have gained, 
 How vast the unattained."
 
 354 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 I am thankful that I was brought up among Unita- 
 rians. ... I have never known the day when God did 
 not seem to me a Father and Friend, Christ a human 
 brother and heavenly teacher, and life made for perpet- 
 ual progress. ... If sometimes life has seemed a bur- 
 den and the way dark, I have never blamed Providence 
 or destiny. For this I thank my training. 
 
 I am thankful, too, that when the time came for me 
 to begin my work as a minister, I did not remain in 
 New England, but went out to Kentucky, and there 
 stayed seven years. ... It was a good thing to speak 
 to people who were unaccustomed to the thoughts fa- 
 miliar to me. I could thus test and try all I knew and 
 see what it amounted to. I was deprived of my usual 
 supports, and had to depend on myself. I was sur- 
 rounded by those who thought my creed only infidelity 
 under another name, and others to whom all religion 
 seemed only a sham or folly. This was hard, but use- 
 ful as a discipline. I could take nothing for granted ; 
 I must be able to give a reason for everything I be- 
 lieved. And I also found there noble friends, generous 
 and loving hearts, whose friendship has been a joy to 
 me always. 
 
 And I am glad that, when I left Kentucky and re- 
 turned to New England, instead of being settled in an 
 old church, I united with friends in forming a new one. 
 . . . This church was founded in April, 1841, with 
 forty-eight members. Its creed was faith in Jesus as a 
 teacher and master, its aim the study and practice of 
 Christianity. AVe have worked together in this spirit 
 and purpose during nearly forty years, and I think our 
 church has done some good, — not so much as we might 
 and ought to have done, but yet something. I have had 
 great joy in this church, and have been helped by it in 
 many ways. 
 
 The seashore had a great attraction for Mr. Clarke,
 
 VARIED ACTIVITIES. 355 
 
 and in 1879 he had built a house on one of the head- 
 lands of Cape Ann, twenty-seven miles from Boston. 
 • From that time his summers were all passed at this sea- 
 shore home, with the exception of the one spent in 
 Europe. 
 
 Magnolia, Massachusetts, July, 1880. 
 
 Magnolia super Mare, Magnolia by the Sea ; so called 
 because the swamp magnolia grows and flourishes near 
 by in the depths of the wild woods of Cape Ann. Like 
 the rest of this romantic coast, it combines magnificent 
 rocks and cliffs with umbrageous woods and far-resound- 
 ing shores. Here one can take his rest aloof from 
 care. As I sit on a piazza facing the blue ocean, see 
 the white surf on Kettle Island, hear the long roll on 
 the beach close by, I feel as if all the anxiety and 
 worry of life were far away. Here it is always after- 
 noon. 
 
 TO s. c. c. 
 
 August 15, 1880. 
 
 To hear from you, or Sarah, or Abraham, always 
 makes me happy for the rest of the day. I am aware of 
 a certain feeling of content, which, when I analyze it, 
 resolves itself into the influence of your letter. What 
 a blessing it is that we should have been spared so long 
 to each other, and that we should never have had any 
 of those estrangements which are not infrequent in 
 families. 
 
 We are enjoying our quiet and lovely home here very 
 much. All around is ocean, old gray rocks, deep green 
 foliage of the most luxuriant masses of thick-set bushes 
 and vines, which are crowded so close as to make an 
 almost impenetrable barrier, except where a foot-path 
 goes through. I am now sitting (6 A. m.) on the pi- 
 azza ; and as I write I look up and see the long stretch 
 of pale blue ocean before me, with a vast sky of tender 
 clouds. To the left is the curving beach, on which the 
 pulse of ocean beats regularly in slow throbs of heavy
 
 356 DIAEY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 surf waves. We are expecting a visit from the sea- 
 serpent, for he is at present cruising round this cape. 
 
 In the winter of 1880-81, he gave at the Lowell In- 
 stitute a course of lectures, which were published soon 
 after under the title of "Events and Epochs in Reli- 
 gious History." His topics included the life and times 
 of St. Augustine, Savonarola, Luther, Wesley, George 
 Fox, the Christian Monks, the Buddhist Monks, the 
 Huguenots, Jeanne d'Arc, and an account of the Cata- 
 combs. Stereopticon illustrations of these last were 
 given, and also of the rock-cut temples of Central Asia, 
 and of abbeys, monasteries, etc. Anything which in- 
 terested him in his studies he wanted to communicate 
 to others. Of the life of Jeanne d'Arc he had made 
 careful study at an earlier period, and in addition to 
 such authorities as were to be found in our public libra- 
 ries, he had obtained, from France, Wallon's account 
 of her trial, — every question addressed to her, every 
 answer made by the poor maiden, brave when facing 
 the terrors of war, but finding it harder to meet the 
 cruel looks of her accusers and judges.
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 CLOSING YEARS. 
 
 1881-1888. 
 
 In the year 1881 came the fortieth anniversary of the 
 Church of the Disciples. On the 27th of April, the 
 birthday of the church was celebrated by an assembly 
 of the congregation which was large, united, and enthu- 
 siastic. There appeared no sign of any decline of 
 strength on the part of the minister as he entered upon 
 his seventy-first year. On Sundays he often preached 
 twice, and except in his summer vacation, conducted 
 two classes. He completed and published " Thomas 
 Didymus " ^ and " Events and Epochs in Religious 
 History." In February, he visited Washington, and 
 preached there, and in March, in October, and again in 
 November, he visited New York. In June he went to 
 Grand Manan, and later in the summer to Newport ; but 
 he spent most of the summer at Magnolia. He pre- 
 pared in the first half of the year twelve written lec- 
 tures on St. Paul, which he delivered at his church. 
 He also conducted two classes — one in the evening for 
 men, and one in the daytime for women — on Christian 
 history, taking one century at each lesson. 
 
 And the picture of those years of his life of which 
 we have spoken in earlier chapters is incomplete unless 
 one recalls the talk, serious or slight, which went on in 
 the office of " The Atlantic Monthly," or in the contrib- 
 utors' reading-room. Mr. Lowell had edited that maga- 
 zine for years, and after him Mr. Fields. In his remi- 
 ^ Afterwards called Life and Times of Jesus.
 
 358 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE, 
 
 niscences, Mr. Fields has shown something of his own 
 humor, and oT that range of recollection which made 
 him the most charming of story-tellers and conversers. 
 From the " Old Corner Book - Store," at the foot of 
 School Street, the publishers had removed to what was 
 called the " new corner," where Hamilton Place opens 
 from Tremont Street. In a pleasant parlor overlooking 
 the Common, the favored contributors might find the 
 latest books or magazines, might make an appointment, 
 or write their letters. Best of all, they met each other 
 there ; and of the little group who dropped in as they 
 went up-town and down-town, it may well be imagined 
 that none were more welcome than Mr. Clarke. I re- 
 member an occasion when, meeting Dr. Holmes there, 
 I offered to tell him of an " astonishing coincidence." 
 He defied me to tell one so remarkable as something 
 which had just happened in his experience. We ar- 
 ranged an impromptu eclogue on the moment, in which 
 Mr. Clarke was appointed to be the Palaemon who 
 should decide in our great discussion.^ 
 
 The Examiner Club is a favorite club for conversation 
 in Boston. It was formed in the year 1870, and Mr. 
 Clarke was one of its first members. At the time of 
 his death he was the president. The New Englander 
 will readily see the interest of a club in which, not to 
 speak of men still living. Governor Andrew, Mr. Emer- 
 son, Mr. G. P. Bradford, Dr. E. H. Clarke, James Free- 
 man Clarke, Mr. Goddard of the "Advertiser," Mr. 
 Henry James, Professor Rogers of the School of Tech- 
 nology, and Mr. Whipple were active members. Yet 
 again, the Thursday Club interested him, and often 
 were glad of the services which he so willingly ren- 
 dered. This is a club of one hundred of the most active 
 
 1 Both Dr. Holmes and I were at this time story-tellers for the 
 magazine. The truth of history requires me to state that Mr. Clarke 
 awarded the premium to neither of us, but gave it to Mr. Aldrich, 
 who had interjected a third story.
 
 CLOSING YEABS. 359 
 
 men of the time who live in Boston or the neighbor- 
 hood. It is their business to keep each other informed 
 of the last news in science, art, and literature, as they 
 learn of it in their different occupations. In the in- 
 timacies of this club, Mr. Clarke's contributions were 
 generally of subjects bearing on education or history. 
 In preparing this volume, we have availed ourselves of 
 notes which he made for some of his historical reminis- 
 cences at its meetings. 
 
 The year 1882 begins with the course of lectures on 
 the " Keligions of the World," delivered in the Lowell 
 Institute. The regular Sunday services go on, and the 
 attendance at meetings of the college overseers, the li- 
 brary trustees, and other boards. On the 30th of April 
 he took part in the services at Mr. Emerson's funeral. 
 In March he made a visit to Washington, where he 
 preached on two Sundays. On the 13th of May, he 
 sailed on the "Atlas" for Europe, with Mrs. Clarke and 
 one of his daughters. He had accepted an invitation to 
 preach before the British and Foreign Unitarian Associ- 
 ation on their fifty-fifth anniversary. His visit in Lon- 
 don was made very agreeable by the society of people 
 whom he was glad to meet. The party then visited 
 Paris, spent a month in Switzerland, returned by the 
 Bhine to England, and he was in Boston again on the 
 12th of September. He went to the Unitarian confer- 
 ence at Saratoga the next week, and made a visit in 
 New York. 
 
 In the next year, 1883, the entry " Bad cold " ap- 
 pears frequently in the diary, and gives the first signal 
 of failing strength. There is one stormy Sunday, when 
 he did not go to church in the afternoon, — the first 
 entry of that kind which I have noted. But the regu- 
 lar service at church continues unbroken. The morn- 
 ing sermons for the months of winter and spring were 
 a course on Unitarian belief. In the same year he col- 
 lected and revised for press the materials for a course
 
 360 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 of talks on anti-slavery days, which had interested large 
 companies. The second volume of " Ten Great Reli- 
 gions " was published. He wrote a " Manual of Uni- 
 tarian Belief," which has since had a wide circulation. 
 He made visits to New York, to Newport, and to Mead- 
 ville, spending the summer months mostly at Magnolia. 
 On the 6th of October is a note that he attended a 
 " meeting of Independents," at Young's Hotel. 
 
 The 21st of July was the fiftieth anniversary of his 
 preaching that first sermon on the duty next our hand. 
 He notes the anniversary, and on that day begins the 
 Autobiography which the reader has enjoyed. 
 
 He was now obliged to hold himself a little in check, 
 and to feel that he could no longer do what he did when 
 he was a young man. But the services at church are 
 performed with unbroken regularity through 1884. In 
 the spring he made a visit to his invalid brother at Ma- 
 rietta, in Georgia, and on the way preached in Wash- 
 ington and, on successive Sundays, in Atlanta and New 
 York. 
 
 Mr. Clarke was dissatisfied with the nomination of 
 the Eepublican convention in July, and placed himself 
 at once on record as one Avho would not support it. He 
 believed that the old issues between North and South, 
 which had governed the politics of the country since 
 the beginning of the century, were substantially settled. 
 He was especially interested in civil-service reform and 
 in every action which looked toward the rescue of 
 official appointments from machine politics. At first 
 there seemed reason to fear that he might have to stand 
 apart from his old anti-slavery friends in his determi- 
 nation not to vote with the Republican party ; but, as 
 it proved, he did not stand alone. He united with some 
 of his anti-slavery friends and with other gentlemen 
 who had heretofore acted with the Republicans. They 
 did not organize as a party, but preferred to consider 
 themselves Independents ; and by this name they came
 
 CLOSING Yl-JAUS. 361 
 
 to be known in the political Avorld. Eventually, they 
 determined to unite with the Democrats in the election 
 of Mr. Cleveland. 
 
 To satisfy himself as to Mr. Cleveland's position and 
 intentions, he visited him at Albany. When he re- 
 turned from Albany to the Unitarian national confer- 
 ence at Saratoga, he was asked by a few of the minis- 
 ters there to give them his impressions. They met in 
 a private room, and from more than one of those pres- 
 ent on that occasion we learn that Mr. Clarke said, in 
 substance, that he was convinced Mr. Cleveland was an 
 honest, hard-working, capable man, who believed in 
 civil-service reform, and had sufficient strength of pur- 
 pose to be true to it in spite of outside pressure. For 
 this reason he felt it his duty to support him. 
 
 He found at the end of the canvass that he was not 
 in the minority of the people of the country, as he had 
 expected to be, but that the Independents and their 
 allies had succeeded. 
 
 The parish work, which he would never willingly 
 forego, continues, and the diary was never more full of 
 subjects for sermons than in this year. But it seems 
 to me to show some signs of fatigue. There is the 
 " bad cold " again occasionally, and the entries are 
 shorter and fewer than in earlier years. It is pathetic 
 to see four such entries as these together : — 
 
 Friday. Bad cold. Stay at home all day. 
 
 Saturday. At home all day. 
 
 Sunday. Thermometer minus 4°. Sermon on "Vis 
 inertise [as if he knew anything about it !] : its good 
 and evil in nature and in life." 
 
 Monday. My cold continiies. At home all day. 
 
 On the 24th of January, 1885, he conducted, at Ar- 
 lington Street Church, the funeral services of his life- 
 long friend and companion in study, William Henry 
 Channing.
 
 362 DIARY AND CORRESPOy DENCE. 
 
 On the 21st of the month he went to New York, and 
 was present thcat evening at a meeting of the Harvard 
 Club. The visit was only for a few days. 
 
 His determination to work steadily in composition 
 appears from the memorandum that his amanuensis is 
 to attend two hours each day for four days in the week. 
 His seventy-fifth birthday was celebrated by the Church 
 of the Disciples in a re-union at the church, of three 
 or four hundred persons, and he marks it as '' very 
 pleasant." 
 
 On the centenary of the introduction at King's 
 Chapel of the Revised Book of Common Prayer, the 
 12th of April, 1885, he was present at that church, and 
 gave an address on the life of his grandfather. Dr. 
 Freeman, who arranged that book of service, and was 
 for near half a century the minister of that church. 
 
 On the 11th of May, 1885, there met at Hartford, 
 Connecticut, a " Congress of Churches." It originated 
 in the catholic wish of some Broad Church Episcopa- 
 lians and liberal Orthodox Congregationalists to bring 
 about a better understanding between different Protes- 
 tant communions in America, or at least among their 
 members. They had the courage and consistency to in- 
 vite Mr. Clarke. And no occasion could have given 
 him more satisfaction, or been more in harmony with 
 the spirit of the work of his life. On the 13th he read 
 to this congress a paper on " The Historical Christ as 
 the Centre of Christian Theology." 
 
 He spent the summer at his happy home at Magno- 
 lia, enjoying, almost every day, his favorite recreations 
 of walking, driving, and sailing. On the 5th of July, 
 the entry in his diary is, " Up at 4.30. 5 to 7, writing 
 sermon. 10.30, preach dedication sermon of Union 
 Chapel [at Magnolia]. Chapel crowded. Letters in 
 evening." 
 
 On the 16th of August, the tireless entries in the 
 diary are : —
 
 CLOSING YEARS. 363 
 
 Things to be done this winter : — 
 1. Books, (a) Ticknor's [the publisher] book on 
 Self-Development. 
 
 (b) A. U. A. Sursum Corda. 
 
 (c) Ellis' [the publisher] Vexed Questions. 
 
 (d) Previous Questions. 
 
 Things to be done in the church this winter : — 
 
 1. Afternoon Bible-class on Monday. 
 
 2. S. S. lectures on Picturesque Palestine. 
 
 3. Literary lectures, on Wednesday evenings, on such 
 subjects as Spenser, Milton's '' Areopagitica," Bacon's 
 " Advancement," Sir T. Browne, Byron, Shelley, Cole- 
 ridge, Goldsmith, Gray, etc. 
 
 4. Sermons on special subjects, same as "Previous 
 Questions." 
 
 The Sunday services at the Church of the Disciples are 
 renewed on the 13th of September, when he preached a 
 sermon, " What is a church for ? " Sometimes the 
 diary notes — what it might often have noted — "a 
 large congregation." It should be remembered that 
 this means eight or nine hundred persons. In the 
 afternoons he meets a '' class of young men." And he 
 now begins the preparation for his Palestine lectures, 
 as indicated in the plan made in August. There is no 
 break in the parish duties, — indeed, they seem, if pos- 
 sible, more sedulously cared for than ever. One notes 
 the advanced age of the persons whose funerals he at- 
 tends. The friends who united in young life to form a 
 living church are passing to higher life. 
 
 In 1886, the steady line of his out-door work is twice 
 interrupted by " jaundice," of which an earlier attack 
 had been noted in 1885. But an attack of illness seems 
 to mean little more to him than staying at home. The 
 end of the year notes, " Books published in 1886 : 
 ' Every-Day Eeligion ' (a volume of sermons), ' Vexed 
 Questions,' and ' The Problem of the Fourth Gospel.' "
 
 3l)4 DIARY AND COIiliESPONDENCE. 
 
 There is an entry of letters written, " from 900 to 1,000," 
 — a pathetic and lamentable contrast to the happier 
 entries of earlier years, when he wrote letters because 
 he wanted to. He is now experiencing the weight of 
 correspondence, which St. Marc Girardin so well calls 
 " the burden of our modern civilization," — a burden 
 so heavy that men wonder whether Rowland Hill were, 
 indeed, a benefactor of his kind. 
 
 The " First Unitarian Society " in Philadelphia were 
 to dedicate their new church building on the evening of 
 Tuesday, February 9, 1886, and a conference of the 
 ministers and others assembled on that occasion was to 
 be held during the two succeeding days. Mr. Clarke 
 was invited by Rev. Joseph May, pastor of the Phila- 
 delphia society, to preach the dedication sermon. He 
 arrived in Philadelphia on the Saturday previous, and 
 on Sunday preached twice for Mr. Mangasarian, an 
 Armenian who had lately established an independent 
 church in Philadelphia. On Monday he called on Dr. 
 Furness and a number of other friends. When Tues- 
 day came he had a hoarse cold, but by remaining quietly 
 in-doors all day he was able in the evening to give the 
 sermon which he had prepared for the occasion.^ He 
 was to have taken part in the conference, but this satis- 
 faction was made impossible by the state of his throat, 
 and on the morning of the tenth he left for New York, 
 and after resting there for a night, reached home on the 
 eleventh. 
 
 On the following Sunday he preached in his own 
 pulpit. 
 
 The summer, as was usual with him now, was spent 
 at Magnolia ; and the more regular course of life was 
 broken only by a visit to Newport. When the autumn's 
 work began he organized a temperance union in his 
 church, and he also mentions, with interest, addressing 
 
 ^ His diary of the Wednesday previous was, " Up at 4.30 [a. m.], 
 writinfj sermon for Philadelphia."
 
 CLOSING YEAMS. 3t)5 
 
 a full house one night at the Howard Athenaeum, a 
 theatre in the heart of Boston ; " not one half of them 
 regular church attendants." 
 
 It is a manly record of determination to do his duty 
 to the last. It is not until the 20th of January, 1887, 
 that he gives up preaching. For the rest of that winter 
 and through the spring the pulpit of the Church of the 
 Disciples, from which he had seldom been absent, was 
 supplied by the ministry of different friends. He was 
 not confined to the house, nor did he shrink from occu- 
 pation. During forty days of this confinement there is 
 mention of a hundred and ten letters written by him. 
 And a sermon was regularly sent to the " Gazette," for 
 that larger congregation which read his words every 
 week, in other parts of the world. He continued his 
 contributions to different newspapers. It is an inva- 
 lid's life which is recorded, with hardly a reference to 
 weakness or illness. On the 15th of June he went to 
 Magnolia. He resumed his work on the Autobiography, 
 and advanced it nearly to the point where the reader 
 has found it discontinued. In this summer he records 
 excursions, longer or shorter, in the " Sheila," the yacht 
 of his friend Mr. Foote, who, as it proved, was not to 
 survive him long, and whose friendship and companion- 
 ship were the source of great pleasure to him. For the 
 first time, I think, he prepared in advance for the pul- 
 pit service of the winter by writing sermons in summer, 
 and before he returned to Boston he had written six. 
 The subjects are, "Rejoice Evermore," "The Labor 
 Troubles," " Dorothea Dix," " Jesus as the Spiritual 
 Leader of the Race," " Paganism in Christianity." 
 
 On the 2d of October, to the joy of his people, he 
 resumed his place in the pulpit, and preached the ser- 
 mon, " Rejoice Evermore." From this time, with but 
 two exceptions, he preached every Sunday until the 4th 
 of March, generally with the memorandum in the diary 
 that some member of the church, or some other friend,
 
 3CG DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 assisted in the service.^ As late as November of this 
 year, he wrote, as he had done for so many years, the 
 report of the committee on the Observatory to the 
 overseers of Harvard College. 
 
 Nor is there any self-indulgence as the winter comes 
 on. " To Boston ; carriage two hours ; seven calls," 
 "Dinner of Class of 1829;" "Letter with Christmas 
 song to R. C. H. ; " " Sent G. H. Ellis two sermons, 
 ' Temperance Efforts and Temperance Methods ' and 
 < The Pew System ' ; " " Bible-class at my room at 
 church ; " such are memoranda of four successive Jan- 
 uary days. "How to get the best out of the coming 
 year " is the resolute title of the sermon of January 8 ; 
 and, on the same day, fitly enough he baptizes a little 
 girl by the name of " Hope." 
 
 On the 22(1, after he had preached as usual, as he re- 
 turned home to Jamaica Plain, the horses in the car- 
 riage took fright "and dashed against a lamp-post, 
 bruising Anna, and cutting my cheek. Dr. Emma L. 
 Call attended to me." Such is the simple entry in his 
 diary. Dr. Call, who fortunately happened to be pass- 
 ing, accompanied him to Jamaica Plain and took a 
 stitch in his eyelid. His diary adds, " On account of ac- 
 cident I have been obliged to stay at home all this week 
 and abstain from reading and writing ; " and Thursday 
 he says, " Amanuensis writes my sermon." The accident 
 did not prevent his preaching the next Sunday, " Know 
 Thyself" being his subject. There follow, in regular 
 order of successive Sundays, with only one interrup- 
 tion, four sermons on the Lord's prayer ; the texts be- 
 ing, " Thy Kingdom Come," " Daily Bread," " Forgive 
 us our Debts," "As we forgive our Debtors." The 
 last of these was delivered on the 18th of March, the 
 Sunday after the well-remembered "blizzard," which 
 blocked all railroads and broke all telegraph wires, so 
 
 1 His parishioners, Rev. S. B. Cruft and Mr. Darwin E. Ware, read 
 the service for him during several months.
 
 CLOSING YEAIiS. 367 
 
 that " our only access to New York from Boston is by 
 cable to London." This is his entry of the 14th. 
 
 A few letters, written during the years of which we 
 have spoken, follow. 
 
 TO W. G. ELIOT. 
 
 October 31, 1881. 
 
 Dear William, — 'Tis All-Hallow E'en, and I have 
 seen a ghost. I opened my portfolio, and there lay two 
 letters of yours unanswered, and the ghost I saw was 
 that of your face looking at me, and saying, " How long, 
 James ! how long ? " But then I knew you would 
 never say it ; it was only a ghost and no reality. . . . 
 
 How good of you to write such sweet, bright, tender, 
 sparkling letters. You have forgotten all about them, 
 but they were just like your talk. ... I wish that you 
 and Mrs. Eliot would come and make us a visit next 
 summer at our little house by the sea, on the shore of 
 Cape Ann. William Channing came last summer, and 
 it would make us all very happy to see you. I sit on 
 the piazza and look at the ocean ; that is the chief work 
 I do in the summer. 
 
 Did you know I have two grandchildren ? Eliot's 
 children, one a little girl, over two and half years, and 
 one a little boy called James Freeman, eight months. 
 They are as charming as they can be. 
 
 With love always, James. 
 
 TO W. G. ELIOT. 
 
 November 9 and 27, 1881. 
 . . . Half an hour before your pleasant letter came I 
 had finished a little dedication to you of my next book, 
 "Events and Epochs in Eeligious History." I hope 
 you will not be displeased at my showing in this way 
 the many years of affection which have united us. . . . 
 Thanksgiving is over, and we have been made glad and 
 gay by a visit from Eliot, his wife and two children. 
 It was delightful to have the little things about.
 
 368 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Dear William, I always read your letters with de- 
 light. They bring back the old days when we were full 
 of vitality and hope. Perhaps in the next world we 
 shall be like little children again, and have a fresh sup- 
 ply of juvenility. Do not forget your promise to come 
 with your wife and stay with us next summer at the 
 seashore. You need not do anything but sit on the 
 piazza and look at the sea. 
 
 I have a terrible piece of work before me in writing a 
 new course of Lowell lectures. It will make the sec- 
 ond part of " Ten Great Religions," and must be fin- 
 ished by the end of January. 
 
 TO A. H. c. 
 
 New York, November 20, 1881. 
 ... I wish to show in my Lowell lectures the real 
 religion of humanity, and how God is with all nations, 
 teaching them something, of himself.^ . . . 
 
 TO W. G. ELIOT. 
 
 April 3, 1882, 
 Dear William, — I am seventy -two years to-morrow, 
 and congratulate myself that you and William Chan- 
 ning are still on this side with me. Let us stick to- 
 gether as long as we can. I send you some of his sym- 
 bolisms. How he throws himself into all sympathies ! 
 I am expecting to see him before long, for I shall 
 sail from Boston, May 13, to be away two or three 
 months. . . . 
 
 ^ Among some manuscripts of that period was a loose sheet headed : 
 
 " Before -writing the Lowell Lectures. 
 
 " Howbeit, when he, the spirit of truth shall come, he will lead you 
 into all truth. 
 
 " This work of twelve lectures on the religions of the world may do 
 great good or little, as it is done. May I be helped to put out of my 
 heart any wish but this, that the truth of God and the good of man 
 may be served by them. May I be led by the Spirit to say the best 
 and most needed things — whatever may confirm love to God and to 
 man. May I rely on that promise of rxir. mooter and friend."
 
 CLOSING YEARS. 369 
 
 London, May 29, 1882. 
 
 Our voyage was rather long, cold, foggy and disagree- 
 ble, and we were glad last Thursday morning to be at 
 Liverpool, where we took a train at once for London. 
 Lilian joined us Friday evening, coming from Paris, 
 where she has had a pleasant time with Mrs. William 
 B. Greene and Ellen Hale. 
 
 Yesterday (Whitsunday) we four went to Hampstead, 
 where I preached for Dr. Sadler, a fine old gentleman, 
 in a very pleasant, picturesque English chapel. 
 
 Hampstead is lovely, half city and half country. We 
 went, after church, to dine with Professor J. Estlin 
 Carpenter. His father. Dr. William B. Carpenter, was 
 present, and Avas very agreeable, talking about Darwin, 
 Carlyle, and many others whom he had known. 
 
 June 17, 1882. 
 
 We have been in London three weeks ; and it seems 
 more like three months, so many new impressions have 
 succeeded each other, so many people have we seen, so 
 many places visited. Did you ever notice this curious 
 mental phenomenon, that a succession of novelties 
 makes the time go by very rapidly, but also causes it to 
 appear very long in looking back ? Each day goes by 
 like a flash ; but, when gone, it has the air of a week. 
 On the other hand, when one has little to do, the days 
 drag heavily along and the hours have leaden feet ; but 
 when gone, leaving nothing to mark them in the mem- 
 ory, they shrink to a span. 
 
 This week was the close of the Oxford term, and we 
 spent the greater part of two days there. I think there 
 can be no other place in the world like Oxford. Quiet 
 and peaceful for the most part, with an air of monastic 
 seclusion ; every college a cloister, a separate commu- 
 nity, with its own hall, chapel, library, quadrangles, 
 dormitories, gardens, kitchens, dining-room, — the ef- 
 fect is of a town of convents. These gray old build-
 
 370 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 ings take us back five hundred years. Eaten by the 
 teeth of time, that mighty rodent, they speak of the 
 numerous generations come and gone. Pass under this 
 low Gothic portal in the wall : a bell chimes as you 
 enter, a gift of John of Gaunt perhaps, or of bluff King 
 Harry. Cross it and pass into another old gateway, 
 and open an old oaken door. You are now in the 
 chapel, where storied panes, richly colored, admit the 
 poet's dim religious light. Opposite is the dining-hall, 
 with portraits on the walls of the eminent scholars, 
 statesmen, soldiers, ecclesiastics, who have been stu- 
 dents in these halls. Then comes the library. The 
 books have that unreadable air which belongs to a very 
 old collection. The fashion of this world passeth away 
 in books, as well as in all other things. How proud 
 were the authors of these mighty tomes of their work ! 
 Now, who reads them ? An ancient and a mouldy 
 smell comes from them : let us go into the gardens. 
 
 Every hall has its garden or park, often running 
 down to the river, gay with flowers, bordered by stately 
 elms. . . . 
 
 We were desirous of being present at the Commemo- 
 ration Services, which correspond to our College Com- 
 mencement. Tickets to the theatre were in demand, 
 but through the great kindness of Dr. Acland, Regius 
 Professor of Medicine, we had seats for our whole party. 
 The distinguished guests of the university who came that 
 day to take their honorary degrees were Sir William 
 Hamilton Muir (the Sanskrit scholar), Goldwin Smith, 
 Eobert Browning, Dr. Allen Thompson, and Mr. Watts, 
 the artist. 
 
 At Oxford I had the pleasure of seeing Dr. Jowett, 
 Dr. Acland, Professor Westwood, Mr. Seligman, author- 
 ity on libraries, and Max Miiller, besides other interest- 
 ing people. 
 
 In London I have met with very many interesting 
 people, to some of whom I had letters. Dr. Bradley,
 
 CLOSING YEARS. 371 
 
 Dean of Westminster, showed me through the curious 
 rooms and passages of the Deanery and explained the 
 monuments of the Abbey. I have also met with Stop- 
 ford Brooke, Mr. Haweis, jMatthew Arnold, John Bright, 
 Miss Octavia Hill, Thomas H. Gill, Miss Swanwick, 
 Miss Frances Power Cobbe, and others. 
 
 Mr. Clarke and his family spent some days with Mr. 
 and Mrs. Edwin Lawrence, whose hospitable home is so 
 gratefully remembered by many traveling Americans. 
 Here they saw John Bright, and others whom they were 
 glad to meet. They made several visits to Professor 
 and Mrs. J. Estlin Carpenter. They also spent some 
 hours with Rev. and Mrs. Philip Wicksteed. Indeed, 
 those who contributed to the happiness of their stay in 
 London were too nvimerous to be named here, and the 
 days were too few to see as much as they wished of 
 these friends. 
 
 Mr. Clarke had long been a lover of the hymns of 
 Thomas H. Gill, and they had exchanged letters and 
 books. Now the}^ met face to face. Mr. Gill came 
 rapidly into the room, and, seizing Mr. Clarke's hand, 
 said in Greek, " As unknown and yet well known." 
 Then followed a long and happy talk. 
 
 William H. Channing was living in London, and he 
 and Mr. Clarke met almost every day. 
 
 London, June 18, 1882. 
 Yesterday I went in the morning to hear Canon Far- 
 rar, who preaches in St. Margaret's, Westminster. The 
 church was crowded in every part, every foot of stand- 
 ing-room being occupied. The sermon was a noble trib- 
 ute to Garibaldi, and was as free and strong as if it had 
 come from the lips of Theodore Parker. The services 
 which preceded the sermon lasted about an hour, and 
 were full of repetitions. . . . But, when Canon Farrar 
 ascended the pulpit and began to preach, the change
 
 372 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 from formalism to freedom was instantaneous. He 
 seemed to clear the air of these mediaeval mists by the 
 first words he spoke. 
 
 On the Sunday evening previous we had heard a very 
 different preacher, Mr. Spurgeon. Intellectually his ser-' 
 mon had nothing in it. Yet there Avas a crowded house, 
 said to contain six thousand persons. The force which 
 brings them together, and holds them there, is the 
 manifest belief of Spurgeon that these people need and 
 can have an immediate salvation, and his direct, strong, 
 simple purpose of doing all in his power to bring them 
 into the love of God. 
 
 What a contrast was this evening to another evening 
 a week later, with James Martineau ! We passed some 
 quiet hours with this pure, clear, and profound thinker, 
 who is still working on at the age of seventy-five in 
 calm serenity. He is as deeply interested as ever in 
 the religious thought of the time, and in the education 
 of young men for the ministry. 
 
 Paris, July 2. 
 
 In London I found what I had wished much to see, 
 an early autograph copy of Gray's "Elegy." Several 
 autographs of this poem exist. One is in the British 
 Museum. By the kindness of Sir William Eraser, its 
 owner, I examined at my leisure what seems to have 
 been the earliest sketch of the poem. He has also 
 many other curiosities in his collection, — the original 
 manuscript of Scott's " Marmion ; " the copy of the 
 first edition of the " Vicar of Wakefield," given by 
 Goldsmith to Dr. Johnson ; Dr. Johnson's own copy of 
 his own story " Easselas ; " and a whole library of curi- 
 ous works of this sort. 
 
 In the house of another English gentleman I saw a 
 package of autograph letters by Oliver Cromwell. They 
 came from the house of Richard Cromwell ; and as I 
 spelled them out, one by one, they interested me much.
 
 CLOSING YEAKS. 373 
 
 One, written to his son Richard, when a 3'outh, gave 
 him advice as to his reading, and, among other books, 
 recommended him to read Walter Raleigli's " History 
 of the World." I saw also in the same collection a let- 
 ter written by Mary, Queen of Scots, on the night be- 
 fore her execution. It was, I believe, to the mother of 
 her first husband. It was a long letter, carefully writ- 
 ten, and showed how self-possessed she must have been 
 in view of her approaching death. 
 
 Mr. Clarke went twice to the House of Commons. On 
 one occasion the Egyptian and the Irish troubles were 
 both under discussion, and he heard questions put by 
 the different members to Gladstone, and his replies. A 
 liery member rose, and made a speech in favor of boy- 
 cotting, and this proved to be Parnell. 
 
 The party reluctantly turned their faces toward the 
 Continent, saying, in the words of Francis Higginson, 
 " Farewell, dear England ! Farewell the church of God 
 in England, and all the Christian friends there ! " 
 
 They spent ten or twelve days in Paris, and INIr. 
 Clarke, as was his habit, went into many of the 
 churches. 
 
 " How imposing are these Catholic churches ! What 
 beauty and majesty in their vast proportions and lovely 
 details ! As we enter these solemn aisles a sense of 
 religion enters the soul. We drop our cares, our de- 
 sires, and for a few moments feel the presence of eter- 
 nity. . . . The Catholic Church represents the element 
 of worship latent in every soul, and represents and 
 serves it so well that it retains its hold on millions. It 
 omits too much the other elements of Christianity. It 
 does not help the progress of man; but, when the 
 deeper and larger religion comes, it must retain all 
 there is of good in this church, and add all that is now 
 wanting. May that day dawn soon ! " 
 
 From Paris they went to Switzerland, where Mr.
 
 374 DIABY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Clarke enjoyed showing his daughters the beautiful 
 scenery which had so impressed him on his first visit 
 in 1849. 
 
 Inteklaken, July 9, 1882. 
 
 ... In Btile one sees the portraits by Holbein, and is 
 struck, as in the early Italian masters, with the fullness 
 of expression in each face. These masters understood 
 little of the technicalities of art, but they knew what 
 they wished to do. They did not draw a face in order 
 to show their skill, but to fix on their canvas the char- 
 acter of the man. And there he is, with his courage, 
 his determined purpose, his patient, immovable stress 
 of will, hardened by long struggles, tested by sharp en- 
 counters, hardened in the fires of misfortune and pain. 
 Or there is the pure, saintly face of some aspiring and 
 devoted woman, a divinely tempered soul, whose con- 
 versation was in heaven. You look at these faces and 
 you know them as if you had lived with them ; and you 
 say, " This is what the artist is for ; not to display his 
 skill on trivial subjects, not to paint shallow men and 
 frivolous women in aristocratic salons, but to seize and 
 keep the higher moments of life, its richest experience, 
 its memorable hours." 
 
 The picture in this museum which interested me 
 most, and to see which was worth a visit to Bale, was a 
 portrait of Luther in miniature, by his friend, Lucas 
 Cranach. It represents him as a young man, not with 
 the burly form and heavy features to which we are ac- 
 customed, but with clearly-cut, well-defined contours of 
 face, an earnest and somewhat melancholy expression, 
 and eyes as of one who looked at a grave task laid on 
 his conscience and heart. 
 
 The Lake of Lucerne I saw for the third time, and 
 neither memory nor imagination can paint it more won- 
 derful than it is. It combines all charms, the sublime 
 majesty of its black cliffs and granite pyramids, the 
 tender loveliness of its shaded shores, the dazzling 
 splendor of the snow-fields above.
 
 CLOSING YEARS. 376 
 
 From Switzerland they went to Holland, where they 
 spent ten or twelve days. This country had a special 
 interest for them because Mrs. Clarke's father came 
 from there. But, beside the pleasure of meeting their 
 relatives, they liked its scenery ; and with Fromentin's 
 " Maitres d' Autrefois " for a guide-book, enjoyed its 
 treasures of art. 
 
 As faithful descendants of the Pilgrims they visited 
 Leyden, and at Scheveningen tried to find the exact 
 spot from which the Pilgrims had set sail ; but to their 
 disappointment they found that the sea had devoured 
 it. 
 
 Mr. Clarke spent a few days in London on his return 
 from the Continent, and took this opportunity to go to 
 Nazing, a village from which came some of his ances- 
 tors, and also the Apostle Eliot, related to the family 
 through the marriage of his sister to William Curtis, an 
 ancestor of Mr. Clarke. Though only a few hours from 
 London, everything, roads and fields and houses, ap- 
 peared as they might have done when Eliot and his 
 friends took their last look at the place before setting 
 out for America. Mr. Clarke went at once to the top of 
 the tower in the old church. 
 
 " In ascending I had to push my way through the re- 
 mains of the nests made by many generations of rooks. 
 ... As I looked down from the tower I saw Epping 
 forest in the distance, and nearer, the common, where 
 tradition tells us that Boadicea defeated the Roman 
 army. In the little church are still shown the oaken 
 seats on which John Eliot and William Curtis sat as 
 boys. ... 
 
 " Perhaps some of you may have visited Nazing. 
 Those who have not will like to hear of the village, 
 where originated the Curtises and Heaths, of Roxbury, 
 and so many more with whose names we are familiar, 
 and especially which gave birth to John Eliot, that 
 sweet and holy soul, Avho gave letters and grammar to a
 
 376 DIABY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 before unwritten language ; who translated the Bible 
 into this strange tongue ; who had it printed ; who 
 taught the Indians to read it ; who went among the 
 rude savages without fear, and who made them his 
 friends. The pure light of his loving faith shines 
 among the more lurid lights of ISlew England Puritan- 
 ism, — 
 
 ' Velut inter ignes 
 Luna minores.' 
 
 " I also went to Waltham Abbey, six miles from Na- 
 zing. This is a church so ancient that a part of it dates 
 back to a period before the Conquest. Somewhere in 
 the churchyard repose the remains of Harold, the last 
 Saxon king. 
 
 " Waltham Abbey is fourteen miles from London, and 
 is on the river Lea, a stream made famous as the place 
 where Izaak Walton loved to fish." 
 
 On the 12th of September, Mr. Clarke was back in 
 Boston, and on the following Sunday he preached in his 
 own pulpit. 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 November 8, 1882. 
 . . . We are all well, and have gone to work again as 
 usual. The moment I was at home I Avas called upon 
 to attend to various duties immediately. I felt as the 
 horses in the engine house may be supposed to feel 
 when the fire-bell strikes, and their harness drops upon 
 them. I found myself as suddenly in the traces. 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 Jamaica Plain, March 12, 1883. 
 I was much pleased to see your catalogue of books. 
 
 As soon as I get the vacant half hour (which Mr. F 
 
 said he should have after his death, and designated as a 
 time when an importunate person might call, and he 
 would attend to him), I shall try to look up some books 
 to fill your evident lacume. Last night I preached
 
 CLOSING YEARS. 6 1 < 
 
 to a full Music Hall for an liour, and was not tired. . . . 
 Anna and I are reading the correspondence of Emerson 
 and Carlyle. It is interesting. But we are rather 
 startled at the stately, elaborate style on both sides. 
 Every letter seems a tour deforce. There is nothing of 
 the currente calavio about either. Even the impetuous 
 T. C, who in his books rushes on at hap-hazard, and 
 often in his haste seems to go head over heels, appears 
 daunted by R. W. E., and tries to write back in the 
 same vein. . . . 
 
 TO REV. JOHN CORDNER. 
 
 Boston, March 15, 1883. 
 
 I am, with many others, much interested in the at- 
 tempt to procure a central, commodious, and suitable 
 building for the use of the Unitarian body. This 
 should have been done long ago, and we have suffered 
 much from not having had it. ... A home for the de- 
 nomination is what is needed in order to be the centre 
 of our chief activities. 
 
 I am not a sectarian, I believe, in my regard for the 
 Unitarian body. I feel great sympathy Avith the other 
 denominations, and see how grand is the work they are 
 doing. But we also have our one talent, and ought not 
 to bury it in the earth, or to hide our Lord's money. It 
 is not ours, it is his. Wherever Unitarianism has gone 
 it has aided education, philanthropy, and all humane 
 reforms. Let us do everything we can for that which 
 has done so much for us. 
 
 FROM W. H. CHANNING. 
 
 June 14, 1883. 
 . . . You shall certainly have all your letters now in 
 my possession. But the great Boston fire cost you and 
 me more than you dreamed of ; for a portmanteau, filled 
 with the assorted correspondence of friends, and of my 
 own note-books, etc., went up in tinder that tremen-
 
 378 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 dous night, though the flames stopped at the very next 
 wall, in Exchange Building, State Street, after licking up 
 our " sweet morsels " with the final sweep of its ruddy- 
 tongue.^ Of late years you have found time to write 
 very little to me, though some of your brief notes indi- 
 cate the quality of our friendship. 
 
 And in using this sacred name, the wish grows strong 
 that in your story you will interweave enough of bright 
 memories of this old classmate and compeer of yours 
 to let the growing boys and youth of our dear New 
 England see how very sweet, beautiful, and heavenly a 
 life-long unbroken friendship is. Tell them somewhat 
 of our old Cambridge days ; of the Cincinnati and 
 Louisville era, when we were co-editors of the " West- 
 ern Messenger ; " of the anti-slavery and Brook Farm 
 times, so rich with mighty issues. But follow your 
 own impulse, and that will be best. 
 
 TO WILLIAM G. ELIOT. 
 
 December 14, 1883. 
 I feel as you do about the work we might have done, 
 and have not. I sometimes think I made a great mis- 
 take in being settled over a church, instead of devoting 
 my life to preaching in the byways and out of the way 
 places to the unchurched people, outside of any healthy 
 organization. By giving them the sincere milk of the 
 gospel, all summed up in the words, "Come unto me 
 and I will give you rest," apart from all theologies or 
 anti-theologies, Jesus the dear Christ, the well-beloved 
 son, the brother and friend and helper of us all, I think 
 that a new revival ought to come. But I take the same 
 comfort that you do. The Lord has his own servants, 
 and will send by whom he will send. He has let us do 
 something, and we ought to be grateful. 
 
 1 The ^eater portion of Mr. Clarke's letters to his friend, William 
 G. Eliot, were also destroyed, by the burning of Mr. Eliot's house in 
 St. Louis.
 
 CLOSING YEARS. 379 
 
 In the spring of 1884, a great sorrow came to Mr. 
 Clarke in the death of the clear grandson of whom he 
 has spoken in his letters. He missed the sunshine 
 which the child had brought into his life, but deeper 
 than the sense of loss was his conviction that " what 
 God gives he gives forever." 
 
 FROM W. H. CHANNIKG. 
 
 Ascension Day, May 22, 1884. 
 My dear James, — Let this blessed day of hope for 
 heavenly reunion with our ascended friends be marked 
 in my calendar as a festival, by wishing you joy for 
 the success with which you have been favored in your 
 book on " The Ideas of Paul." Only my continued 
 weakness, from two months and more confinement to 
 my bed and room, making all effort to write a painful 
 burden, has delayed an earlier expression of my thanks. 
 But you will be glad to know that this beautiful volume 
 has been one of my " morning companions ^' ever since 
 it reached me, and has inspired as well as comforted 
 me, in your own sense of the word comfort. . . . 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 Magnolia, July 5, 1884. 
 
 We are all anxious about our little Anna, Eliot's 
 youngest child, who is extremely ill with the whooping- 
 cough. She has the best care, and Dr. Charles Put- 
 nam is staying with us all the time he can, day and 
 night. . . . 
 
 I have attacked my Autobiography, and find I need 
 your help, and that of Sam, about Newton in our child- 
 hood. Will you write out all you recollect, especially 
 about grandfather and grandmother Hull, and the curi- 
 ous characters then in Newton. I want that preserved, 
 and you two can do it.
 
 380 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 July 16, 1884. 
 The doctor told us yesterday he thought our baby had 
 turned the corner, and was on the mend. Her cough is 
 less frequent and not so severe as it has been ; so we 
 feel very much relieved. . . . We have no news, for the 
 baby and its condition have absorbed us.^ 
 
 TO REV. J. H. ALLEN. 
 
 Jamaica Plain, February 17, 1885. 
 
 I received your very kind letter, and it gave me great 
 pleasure. Your description of the interest you took in 
 the group of which Theodore Parker, William Henry 
 Channing, James H. Perkins, George Ripley, etc., were 
 members, and with which I also had the pleasure of 
 being associated, was peculiarly pleasing, and touched 
 me nearly. How strange are the influences which act 
 on us ! There was our poor little " Western Messen- 
 ger," which found you out at Northboro, and found our 
 dear brother Conant in Chicago, and in which we put 
 the best life we had. How well James H. Perkins 
 wrote ! When it was printed in Louisville, I had to be 
 publisher, editor, contributor, proof-reader, and boy to 
 pack up the copies and carry them to the post office. 
 But I enjoyed it. 
 
 And you read " Theodore " too, and went to Amory 
 Hall ! I have scarcely ever heard of any one's reading 
 " Theodore," but if you liked it, perhaps others also 
 liked it. Every man who writes a book or preaches a 
 sermon casts his bread on the waters, — happy if, as 
 now, he finds it again after many days. 
 
 It was very kind of you, my dear Allen, to write to 
 me as you have done, and your friendly appreciation of 
 
 ^ When not too ill, the infant was carried about, lying on a pillow, 
 in the arms of different members of the family, and her grandfather 
 would walk up and down the hall, holding her, and reciting in Latin 
 the Odes of Horace. The tones of his voice had the effect of sooth- 
 ing her.
 
 CLOSING YEARS. • 381 
 
 some of my past efforts warms my heart. We do not 
 care for praise as we grow old, but we always are made 
 happy by sympathy. 
 
 " Common as light is love, 
 And its familiar voice wearies not ever." 
 
 On Mr. Clarke's seventy-fifth birthday his parishion- 
 ers invited him to spend a social evening with them, 
 and the occasion, as usual, was like a family festival, 
 though it included also a few friends not belonging to 
 the church family. It was held on the 6th of April, 
 and the next day he wrote to his sister : — 
 
 We had a large and pleasant reception last night, and 
 your very affectionate telegram added much to our sat- 
 isfaction. There were four hundred persons present. 
 Innumerable roses, lilies, violets, etc., perfumed the 
 air, and all went merry as a marriage bell. The ages 
 ranged from that of Mr. Henry B. Rogers, eighty-three, 
 and Mr. William Amory, and Mr. John C. Park, over 
 eighty, down to two little daughters of Laura Howe 
 Richards. . . . 
 
 TO REV. J. W. DAY. 
 
 Magnolia, Mass., September 7, 1885. 
 Thank you for your kind note, and for what you say 
 of the good you received from my services. No greater 
 satisfaction can come to us than from such an expres- 
 sion as that. No matter how old we are, it always glad- 
 dens us to think that we have been helped to help others, 
 on this, the highest plane of being. That you may 
 receive many such assurances is my best wish for you. 
 
 TO W. G. ELIOT. 
 
 February 13, 1886. 
 Dear William, — I read with delight and emotion 
 your charming little story about the fugitive " Archer."
 
 382 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 It is one of the " memoires pour servir " for the history 
 of an epoch already so far passed by as almost to belong 
 to a Paleontologic age. . . . 
 
 With constant love. 
 
 TO s. c. c. 
 
 Magnolia, August 25, 1886. 
 ... I have had a very slow recovery from my indis- 
 position. I have been confined to this house for more 
 than four weeks, — half of my vacation. But, as I like 
 to look on the bright side of things, I looked for it in 
 this event, and then I remembered that many of the 
 gayest people went into " a religious retreat " once a 
 year, the world quite shut out for a month. So I said 
 I will consider this as my religious retreat, and be con- 
 tent. . . . 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 Jamaica Plain, January 24, 1887. 
 I have just seen in the paper the death of William G. 
 Eliot. How our dear friends leave us ! We seem to be 
 at the foot of the procession. What a true and admira- 
 ble life William led ! How fixed to his principles ! It 
 might have been said to him as to Simon, " Thou art a 
 rock." And yet what a sweet and playful nature 
 withal ! His serioiis work would have made him stern, 
 did not this cloud have a silver lining. . . . Our rela- 
 tions were more of the affections than of the intellect. 
 I leaned on his life, on his true heart, on his unflinch- 
 ing will, on his untiring devotion to everything right 
 and good. . . . 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 Jamaica Plain, May 9, 1887. 
 . . . You perceive by this that I am a step on my 
 way towards convalescence. But I do not write much 
 as yet. In fact, I think this is my second letter in my
 
 CLOSING YEARS. 383 
 
 own autograph. I now see one or more friends each af- 
 ternoon, drive out every morning, and walk a little when 
 the weather allows. The weather is warm, and has 
 tempted out the great flowers of my soulange magnolia. 
 There are hundreds of flowers upon it. The orioles have 
 come from the South, and fill the air with their music. 
 We hope to go to Magnolia early in June. . . . 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 June 8, 1887. 
 ... A week ago (Whitsunday) I went to church, and 
 baptized some children, saying a few words, and I was 
 none the worse for it. Yesterday I went to Boston to 
 attend to a little business. To-day Cora and some of 
 the family go to Magnolia to open the house, and Anna 
 and I expect to go down next ^Vednesday. I dare say 
 the change of air will help me. We shall have a full 
 house, — fourteen in all, including the three chil- 
 dren. . . . 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 Magnoua, August 21, 1887. 
 
 . . . Your letter from Milwaukee gave me a new idea 
 of the immense and rapid progress of those Western 
 cities. The only case like these is that of Melbourne, 
 founded in 1835, and now containing nearly 300,000 in- 
 habitants, splendid streets, noble buildings, and a richly 
 endowed university. The reason I know about this is 
 that this summer, as usual, Anna and I travel round 
 the world in books. We drop down in South Africa, 
 we climb the Alps of New Zealand, are half killed by 
 drought in Australia, and then cool ourselves by a little 
 Arctic adventure. How kind it is in all these good 
 people to travel for us ! 
 
 We have lately mourned the death of Dorothea Dix, 
 a wonderful woman, whose tranquil confidence, force of 
 character, tact, and devotion to her work accomplished 
 such wonders. She wished W. G. Eliot or me to write
 
 384 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 her memoir, but I am unable. If I ever write my own 
 biography, it is all I expect to do. 
 
 I am getting better, but not as fast as I could wish. 
 I drive and sail almost every day. 
 
 Our home here is full, and happy with the glad voices 
 of children, — happy also that they are all well this 
 summer. 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 Magnolia, September 1, 1887. 
 
 Autumn has arrived, and we have had cold winds and 
 chill rains during a large part of August. 
 
 Do you wish to know the method of my days ? We 
 all breakfast together, including Eliot, Alice, Sue, and 
 little Anna. Then I usually drive Eliot to the station ; 
 he goes to Boston every day. After I have been to the 
 station I drive over to the post office, and often go out to 
 sail with Mr. Foote, who has been most kind in urging 
 me to go. I have sailed with him already twenty -two 
 times this summer. When my family see the boat re- 
 turning they come for me in the carriage. In the after- 
 noon I sometimes call on our pleasant neighbor, Mr. 
 Jefferson Coolidge, or visit Mrs. Towne, Mrs. Hemen- 
 way, or Mrs. James T. Fields at Manchester. 
 
 I have prepared some sermons for winter, and hope 
 to begin to preach about the first of October. . . . 
 
 Mrs. Putnam has taken great interest in hunting 
 through the old print-shops in London to find portraits 
 for me of the persons whose autographs I possess. She 
 has sent me a large number, such as I could not find 
 here. The autographs become much more interesting 
 when accompanied with portraits of the writers. 
 
 Of a morning with him on the '' Sheila," during this 
 summer. Professor H. H. Barber gives us this picture. 
 
 The last time I met Mr. Clarke will be always mem- 
 orable to me. He was at his summer home in Mag-
 
 CLOSING YEABS. 385 
 
 nolia, and several of us were visiting another dear friend 
 there, Henry W. Foote, and on this beautiful summer 
 morning Mr. Foote signaled to his neighbor, whose 
 house was at the other end of the beach, and Dr. Clarke 
 drove round for a sail. 
 
 At first he seemed very feeble and said little, but sat 
 by himself in the shadow of the sail, looking out over 
 the sea. Before long he came to where we were sitting, 
 and began to talk. He related many reminiscences of 
 his life in Meadville and Louisville, and of the remark- 
 able persons and scenes of his experience in the latter 
 place. As he talked his voice grew stronger and his 
 eye brighter, and for the forenoon he was our friend in 
 his most genial and instructive mood. When he left 
 the yacht he said, " I have had a very pleasant morning, 
 but it seems to me that I have done most of the talk- 
 ing." It was our happiness that he had done most of 
 the talking. 
 
 As I sailed along the shore last summer, and saw 
 both of the homes where these dear friends had lived, 
 I remembered Mr. Clarke's verses which a friend has 
 repeated to me, and which hold in part, at least, the 
 lesson of both these good lives. ^ 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 September 16, 1887. 
 . . . And now our season is at an end, and we are 
 going to Boston next week to see some very kind Lon- 
 don friends whom we expect to meet there.* It is get- 
 ting cold here. I have been steadily gaining health 
 and strength, but continued bad weather has given me 
 the hoarseness and cough which I am too apt to suffer 
 from in the winter and spring. ... I am charmed with 
 the tone of youth, hope, and active interest in good 
 
 ^ The reference is to the poem called White-capt Waves, which 
 •will be found in another chapter. 
 
 ^ Mr. and Mrs. Edwin Lawrence and Rev. R. Spears.
 
 386 DIABY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 things and people which pervades your letter. You re- 
 mind me more and more of our dear mother in this. . . . 
 How glad we shall be to see her again ! and our father 
 and William and Abraham and dear Herman and 
 Emerson, John A. Andrew, and fifty more. How sad 
 it would be to suppose that death were a wall instead 
 of a door ! But to believe in a great future world, we 
 must first, I think, believe in God ; for if we have been 
 made by an infinite wisdom, we have been made for 
 something more than just to begin a career and then to 
 be cut off. That would be too inconsequential. Here 
 are you, as much interested in life and art as ever. I, 
 at seventy-seven, full of plans of work that would take 
 a dozen years to complete. We are, my dear sister, 
 just at the beginning, not at the end. 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 Jamaica Plain, November 7, 1887. 
 
 ... I was glad to have your pleasant letter of Octo- 
 ber 30th, in which you speak of Cabot's Life of Emer- 
 son. It is a capital book ; but it seems as if one could 
 never hear enough about Emerson. . . . How little of 
 continuity in his thoughts ! and this it seems he knew 
 and regretted. But I think he might have consoled 
 himself by what Lord Bacon says, that "knowledge, 
 while it is in aphorisms and observations, is in growth ; 
 but when comprehended in exact methods, it may be 
 further polished and illustrated, but it increaseth no 
 more in bulk and substance." . . . Yes ! I am working 
 away, though not violently. Last week I took a vaca- 
 tion, and wrote no sermon. 
 
 We are all well as usual. The three grandchildren 
 are very sweet. Anna has been opening our place to 
 the light by felling a number of large trees. One elm, 
 which I planted myself, was seventy-four feet high. 
 Before felling it I took its altitude by a method grand- 
 father Freeman showed me when I was a boy, by
 
 ^ CLOSING YEARS. 387 
 
 placing a mirror horizontally on the grovmd, at such a 
 distance from the tree that I could see its top in the 
 mirror standing as far from it as the height of my eye 
 from the ground. I then had two similar right-angled 
 triangles, in each of which the length of the base was 
 equal to the height, and so had only to measure the dis- 
 tance from the mirror to the foot of the tree to have its 
 height. After that I enjoyed the idea of trigonometry. 
 How wise he was ! 
 
 TO F. H. HEDGE. 
 
 Jamaica Plain, January 12, 1888. 
 
 I read through, immediately on its arrival, the pam- 
 phlet you were so kind as to send me. I was much in- 
 terested in it, as I am in everything you have ever 
 printed. Your thoughts are a great stimulus to my 
 intellect ; they set my thoughts in motion. Most of 
 what you say seems to me eminently true and wise. 
 Some things I hesitate about. I do not like trying to 
 leave the received view of personality for the etymolo- 
 gical one. 
 
 We cannot go back to the primal meaning of words, 
 when a dilferent one has been accepted. For instance, 
 I could hardly justify myself in calling a man from 
 whom I differ intellectually a " miscreant '' by saying 
 that I only meant a " misbeliever." 
 
 Personality has come in all philosophical speech to 
 mean the living unit which combines thought, feeling, 
 and will, in a perfect monad. 
 
 I like your criticism on Matthew Arnold and his 
 definition of Deity. 
 
 TO HIS SISTER. 
 
 Jamaica Plain, March 9, 1888. 
 Sitting before your picture of " The Jungfrau " one 
 afternoon lately, the sun stole over it, and brought out 
 a multitude of lovely details, introducing new values
 
 388 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. ^ 
 
 and lighting up the great silver peaks till they seemed 
 to swim in a rosy radiance. The light quivered over 
 the vast mountains ; and when a cloud went over the 
 sun, the mists collected round the summits and hid 
 them for a moment, and then drifted away, and the 
 snowy fields emerged again, and once more were bathed 
 in the tender light. It was really like being on the 
 spot. I enjoyed it so much that I wished you to know 
 of it. . . . It has been a severe winter. Except on Sun- 
 days, I have not been to Boston for a month.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE MAN. 
 
 At Mr. Clarke's ordination, on the 21st of July, 1833, 
 Rev. F. W. P. Greenwood preached the sermon from 
 the text, " Now the God of hope fill you with all joy 
 and peace in believing, that ye may abound in hope, 
 through the power of the Holy Ghost." 
 
 A manuscript copy of this sermon has been preserved 
 among Mr, Clarke's papers, and as it lies before us we 
 see this sentence : " If we know God and believe in 
 him, we shall be filled with all joy and peace in believ- 
 ing, for he is the God of hope." These words read like 
 prophecy. We have seen that in the earlier years of 
 Mr. Clarke's ministry he had his periods of discourage- 
 ment, but these grew less and less frequent, and in 
 after years he literally " abounded " in hope. In the 
 darkest hour of the war he did not despair ; under the 
 most depressing circumstances of life he always saw 
 light shining on the future. We think that the influ- 
 ence which he had on those who heard him preach 
 came in a measure from this inspiring element of hope. 
 While we listened to him all good seemed possible 
 to us. 
 
 This hope was no blind optimism, but had its roots 
 in faith, — faith in God, faith in man. His faith in God 
 as the Father of every soul which he has created was 
 entire, and was the deep foundation on which all else 
 restel, a foundation which could not be moved. To 
 him God was an ever-present friend, to whom he could 
 turn at any moment for guidance and help; and this
 
 390 DIABY AND CORIiESPONBENCE. 
 
 trust in the Infinite Love was the staff on which he 
 leaned in all times of weakness or perplexity. Some- 
 times, after returning home on Sunday, he has said, 
 '* When I went into the pulpit this morning I felt weak 
 and unequal to the service, but I asked that the souls 
 before me might be fed with better food than I could 
 give them, and my weakness disappeared, and I was 
 helped to say the right words.*' This was his habit 
 also in other and more difficult circumstances, and this 
 assurance of the nearness of God was the secret of his 
 great happiness in his work. The sense of responsibil- 
 ity for results, under which so many faithful souls are 
 weighed down, was made less heavy to him by the con- 
 viction that what was demanded of him was faithful- 
 ness, but that to an over-ruling Providence belonged 
 all the issues of life and work. 
 
 And he had faith in his fellow-men.^ He delighted 
 in reading the lives of saints and heroes and martyrs 
 of eveiy age and every land. Pagan and Christian, 
 Catholic and Protestant. They all testified to the di- 
 vine life, manifested in the human ; and all were a 
 prophecy of the fviture of the race. When he was last 
 in London, the monument in Westminster Abbey which 
 appealed most to his feelings was the simple stone to 
 the memory of David Livingstone, one of the martyrs, 
 of whose influence among the simple Africans he could 
 not speak without emotion. 
 
 Through the weaknesses and faults of human nature 
 he saw the hidden good which would one day conquer 
 the evil ; if not here, then elsewhere. Did any one 
 treat him rudely he would say, " That is only want of 
 tact ; he did not mean it." Did he happen to hear of 
 
 ^ A younger minister wrote to him in 1864, " I want to thank you 
 for words you said to me when first I came to you six years ago. 
 You bade me take the expectant attitude ; to expect men and women 
 to be generous and noble. I think that I have done so, and the re- 
 sult has been as you said : I find them generous and noble,"
 
 THE MAN. 391 
 
 an unkind remark, " He has not the gift of language ; 
 that does not really express his meaning." Did a pub- 
 lic orator take unwarrantable liberty with facts, " The 
 danger of a platform speaker is the temptation to aim 
 at immediate effect." 
 
 But he would speak to a man face to face about his 
 faults, though he would not listen to any discussion of 
 them if the man were absentf This frankness early 
 won him the regard of other lovers of truth. A few 
 days before the death of his good friend Judge Speed, 
 Mr. Clarke saw him in his chamber. After he had taken 
 leave, the judge followed him with his eyes as he left 
 the room, and then turning to those standing by his 
 bed-side, he uttered the one word " Truth-teller." When 
 this was repeated to Mr. Clarke, by one of the family, 
 he was much moved. 
 
 Under his own roof every one, of whatever age, was 
 left free to do what seemed to him right, and it was 
 taken for granted that whatever was done had been 
 done with good intentions. There was no criticism, no 
 faultfinding. When mistakes happened it was not dif- 
 ficult to confess them, for no subsequent allusion would 
 ever recall the circumstance. 
 
 And this was also true in regard to his relations with 
 the world outside of his home. It was enough if a 
 man saw that he was wrong and turned to the right ; 
 no word in after years would ever remind him of a 
 painful past. Often we have heard Mr. Clarke say, 
 " You cannot help a man unless you first love him ; " 
 and to him this first step presented no difficulty. This 
 too, came from his unwavering faith, his illimitable 
 hope. 
 
 He said of himself that by nature he had a quick tem- 
 per, but that while still a child he had resolved to con- 
 quer it. To those who remember how he bore himself 
 under provocation in after life, it Avill be difficult to be- 
 lieve, without his own authority for it, that his patience
 
 392 DIABY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 and serenity were not gifts of nature. B. P. Winslow, 
 his college chum, afterwards his parishioner, and al- 
 ways his friend, maintained that during his life at the 
 university he manifested a remarkably good temper. 
 
 It was his good fortune to have a forgiving disposi- 
 tion. This saved him from harboring at any time a 
 sense of personal injury. If a false accusation caused a 
 momentary feeling of indignation, the feeling subsided 
 almost as quickly as it rose. He had better things to 
 think of, and he did not waste his time in considering 
 what others said about him. 
 
 On one occasion a public attack was made upon him 
 by a man whose misrepresentations had the effect of 
 wounding him ; and he departed from his better method 
 of silence, and sat down to write a reply. But the 
 habit of dwelling on all that is best and noblest in every 
 one was too strong for him ; and, as his adversary had 
 been active in a number of important reforms, Mr. 
 Clarke's pen was soon led into a glowing eulogy of the 
 man and his services. By the time he had written a 
 few pages in this strain, he was not in a mood for con- 
 troversy, and was glad to forget the whole matter. 
 
 But though he readily forgot a seeming injustice, he 
 did not forget the kindness which met him everywhere, 
 and which he often declared to be out of all proportion 
 to his deserts. " We none of us deserve to be loved," 
 he said, " but being loved makes us more deserving 
 than anything else can." 
 
 Some of his friends smiled at his once saying he 
 thought the young people of to-day had better manners 
 than was formerly the case. He had lately returned 
 from his summer's vacation, and " all the young people 
 were so kind, so attentive, so respectful, so courteous." 
 
 Words of apology, and of frank confession of error 
 or fault, so difficult to many, were easy to him. He 
 was always ready, almost eager to say, " It was iny 
 fault " — "J was to blame " — " Forgive me " — "I am
 
 THE MAN. 393 
 
 Sony, dear friend, to have done anything that grieves or 
 wounds you." 
 
 When friends asked him his secret for keeping young 
 and vigorous he would sometimes reply with a smile, 
 " I never worry." When the " Herald of Health " 
 wished to obtain articles on the " health and working 
 habits of prominent thinkers, as described by them- 
 selves," Mr. Clarke wrote, May 9, 1885 : — 
 
 I find myself at the age of seventy-five still able to 
 do a good deal of work, and I attribute it, under Provi- 
 dence, to the following causes : — 
 
 1. I am not of an anxious temperament ; I do not 
 worry. I am not, to any great extent, annoyed by dis- 
 appointments or failure ; and it has never disturbed me 
 when I have been censured, so long as I believed I was 
 doing right. 
 
 2. I have a great faculty for sleeping. Although 
 able to keep awake, when necessary, without injury, I 
 can always fall asleep at any moment when sleep seems 
 desirable. These fragments of rest are, no doubt, of 
 great service to me. 
 
 3. I have always, from childhood, been fond of out- 
 door exercise. I began to ride on horseback when 
 about eight years old ; and when a lad I joined with de- 
 light in all out-of-door sports, — skating, swimming, 
 rowing, and playing ball ; and also in indoor athletic 
 exercises, such as fencing, boxing, and gymnastics. 
 But all these belonged to an early period of my life. 
 
 4. I have few fixed habits and am fond of change. 
 When I have done anything in one way for a few times, 
 I enjoy doing it differently. But if this tendency has 
 its advantages, it, on the other hand, prevents me from 
 receiving the benefit which comes from established 
 methods of work. 
 
 5. Although, when young, I smoked, I have not used 
 tobacco since I was about twenty. In half a century I
 
 394 DIARY AND CORREtitoy DENCE. 
 
 have only smoked two cigars, and those only because I 
 happened to be where the air was malarious. 
 
 6. Finally, I love work, and especially brain work. 
 My professional duties as a clergyman have been to me 
 a source of great happiness. I have also written several 
 books, and many articles for the press ; and I believe 
 that this kind of w^ork has been beneficial to my 
 health. 
 
 There is an impression that it was his custom to post- 
 pone all consideration of his sermon until an early hour 
 on Sunday morning. This is a mistake. In his diary 
 of January 1, 1 866, he says, '' I believe I never before 
 began and finished a whole sermon before breakfast on 
 Sunday morning, though I have often done it before 
 church." But he had his sermon in his mind during 
 the week, and it was gradually taking shape before 
 Sunday came. Indeed, he more often than not began to 
 write his sermon at least as early as Saturday. His 
 diaries show this, and in late years the sermon, partly 
 "Written, usually lay on his study table Saturday night, 
 ready to be continued about four o'clock on Sunday 
 morning. 
 
 In his little story of " Deacon Herbert's Bible Class," 
 the minister begins his sermon on Tuesday morning, 
 and we may infer that Mr. Clarke would recommend 
 this as a good plan. But what he says is true, that he, 
 himself, had no fixed habits, and was very spontaneous 
 in his methods of work. 
 
 In a less important department of life he said of him- 
 self, " I am very methodical, but very disorderly. I 
 have a place for everything, but put nothing in its 
 place. I arrange systematically for every different 
 thing, and then mix all things together. I have a cabi- 
 net for sermons, and put into it newspaper cuttings and 
 carpenter's tools. Portfolios and boxes, marked and 
 labeled, never contain the things they are said to, but
 
 THE MAX. 396 
 
 something else. So with pigeon holes for letters, an- 
 swered and unanswered." 
 
 We may perhaps be allowed to say here that though 
 no harm resulted from this want of order while his pos- 
 sessions were few and his memory at its best, yet, when 
 the manuscripts, printed articles, pamphlets, paper cut- 
 tings, and other furnishings of a minister's study had 
 been accumulating for years, it was sometimes difficult 
 to lay his hands on an article wanted at a moment's 
 notice. But whether the search were successful or not, 
 his good nature was never to be reckoned among the 
 things lost or mislaid. If he found what he wanted he 
 was pleased. If not, he cheerfully managed to do with- 
 out it. 
 
 However spontaneous he may have been in his meth- 
 ods of work, there was a unity in his character from 
 boyhood to the end. His progress was continually 
 along the same lines of development. There were no 
 abrupt departures in new directions. Changes there 
 were, certainly ; but these came gradually. One of the 
 most noticeable, when we compare the earlier years 
 with the later, was in his growing neglect of contro- 
 versy. In the " Western Messenger " days, and for 
 years after, he seemed to enjoy an opportunity to stand 
 face to face with an opponent over any matter which, 
 with the enthusiasm of youth, he regarded as of impor- 
 tance. He appeared to hold his lance ready at a mo- 
 ment's notice for the service of any worthy cause in 
 need of a champion. But as he found that the years 
 were not long enough for the more important work 
 which he had at heart, the unnecessary skirmishing lost 
 its attraction. Sometimes the old zeal would revive, 
 and he would write a reply to something which had at- 
 tracted his attention in a book or elsewhere, but when 
 finished the manuscript would often be thrown aside. 
 " I have had the satisfaction of writing it," he would 
 say, "I do not care about its being printed." And
 
 396 DIARY AND CORHESFONDENCE. 
 
 finally even this outlet was unnecessary. The fire of 
 youth had given place to the maturer wisdom which 
 comes with an ever-widening field of thought and ac- 
 tion. 
 
 But the central convictions with which he began his 
 ministry were the same which he held to its close, only 
 strengthened by the experiences of his life. And from 
 first to last his aims were essentially the same, though 
 the years brought a better knowledge of methods. 
 
 On his seventieth birthday, a friend who had known 
 him for sixty years alluded to his first appearance at 
 the Latin School. His youthful look was then en- 
 hanced by his curls, which a fond grandmother had not 
 allowed to be cut off. The boys at first thought that 
 the new scholar would be a promising subject for their 
 " chaff." But James had an elder brother who was not 
 a non-resistant, and he had counseled the little fellow, 
 in case there were any aggressive measures, to " strike 
 out from the shoulder." This advice was followed, and 
 as a result he was soon accorded his rightful place in 
 that miniature world, the Boston Public Latin School. 
 We would not mention this boyish incident, but that it 
 shows, though on a very low plane, the fearlessness of 
 nature which, in after years, led him to climb to the top 
 of Salisbury, and Antwerp, and Strasburg spires, and 
 on a much higher plane of life to advocate unpopular 
 reforms, and to stand firm in any course which seemed 
 to him right. He always had the courage of his convic- 
 tions, and this too had its root in faith, a firm belief 
 that in the end good must overcome every form of evil. 
 
 We have spoken of his ready sympathy with chil- 
 dren, and the ease with which he put himself into rela- 
 tions with them. They felt that he loved them, and 
 they responded, as children will, when they see that 
 their teacher is also their friend. 
 
 When h'3 had been a year in the divinity school the 
 death of his father made it necessary that he and other
 
 THE MAN. 897 
 
 members of the family should earn something for the 
 support of the household. He accordingly left Cam- 
 bridge, and during one winter kept a school at Cam- 
 bridgeport, living, however, in Boston, with the family. 
 Among his pupils was a boy who was very slow in 
 learning arithmetic, and much time and patience were 
 required before the child could be made to see the prop- 
 erties of figures. It was a happy moment for both 
 teacher and scholar when success came at last ; and it 
 was pleasant to hear Mr. Clarke tell of this experience, 
 into which he had evidently put much heart and 
 thought. " Ah," he said, '' people talk of the pleasure 
 of teaching a bright child ; that is nothing to the pleas- 
 ure of teaching a dull one. When you have tried and 
 tried, apparently without success, and then see, at last, 
 the poor little face brighten up with the illumination of 
 a new idea, that is a real delight." 
 
 On one occasion when he had taken part in a school 
 celebration where a number of addresses were on the 
 programme, he came home and told exultingly how he 
 had saved the children from being obliged to listen to 
 some of the addresses which had been planned. He 
 had noticed that they were growing tired, and, when 
 his turn came for talking to them, his speech consisted 
 only of a proposal that the exercises should be consid- 
 ered ended, and the children released. 
 
 " Oh, how they shouted and hurrahed when I finished 
 my little speech," he said, laughing heartily as he told 
 the story. 
 
 Of the readiness with which he put himself en rap- 
 port with a class of boys usually irrepressible, this illus- 
 tration is furnished us by Rev. J. L. Seward. " Mr. 
 Clarke was once addressing a great audience in Hunting- 
 ton Hall, Lowell. The crowd comprised the most intel- 
 ligent and the least intelligent inhabitants of the city. 
 The boys in the gallery had greatly disturbed previous 
 meetings by walking out with much noise in the midst
 
 398 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 of the services. On the night of Mr. Clarke's discourse 
 the customary pedestrianism began. Looking at the 
 gallery, he said in his inimitable way, 'Young men, I 
 presume some of you hardly know why you came here 
 at all to-night, and perhaps you feel badly cheated by 
 the performance ; but I hope for the sake of these good 
 friends who try to listen that you will bear your disap- 
 pointment with as much patience as you can, and let us 
 have peace.' The effect of his words was magical, and 
 scarcely another fellow left the hall." 
 
 He had a happy faculty of guiding meetings for dis- 
 cussion. A minister whom he was advising to hold 
 meetings for social conversation on religious subjects 
 replied, "That is all very well for you, James, for if 
 any one were to say the most absurd thing that can be 
 imagined you would answer, ' Yes, from some points of 
 view there seems to be something in that,' and you 
 would really find something quite interesting in it. But 
 not everybody can do that." 
 
 " I should not be afraid to say anything in his Bible- 
 class, however stupid," was the remark of one of the 
 younger members of the class. 
 
 He had especial skill in presiding over meetings 
 where differing elements were to be harmonized. We 
 recall an occasion when, at the Meionaon, he was pre- 
 siding over a meeting free to all comers. Orthodox or 
 atheist, Methodist or Unitarian, minister or layman, 
 man or woman, learned or ignorant, the only condition 
 being that no one should occupy the floor more than 
 five minutes. It happened that the first person who 
 wanted to speak was a man whom many present did not 
 wish to hear, and there were noisy demonstrations to 
 that effect. Mr. Clarke reminded the audience that the 
 meeting was free to all, and, turning to the speaker, 
 said courteously, *• I will hold up my watch at the end 
 of five minutes, and I am sure the gentleman will then 
 yield the floor." The audience became quiet, and the 
 man after speaking five minutes sat down.
 
 THE MAN. 399 
 
 During the years in which he was a trustee of the 
 Boston Public Library, he had the good of the institu- 
 tion much at heart, and was regular in his attendance 
 at all business meetings. But the work was not wholly 
 without comjjensation, for he enjoyed the atmosphere 
 of a great library, and spent many happy hours there. 
 A little story of one of his visits in the early years of 
 his connection with it is thus told by an officer of long 
 standing in the library. " His habit was to walk in 
 and look about quietly, with a pleasant smile and a 
 courteous word to all that he met. He would occasion- 
 ally take a book from the shelf, glance over it, read a 
 little, and always carefully return it to its place. I 
 said to him one day, ' Why do you trouble yourself to do 
 that? The attendant will do it.' <No,' he replied, 'I 
 will not make him any extra work.' One day his saun- 
 terings and browsings were anxiously watched by a 
 young attendant, new to the place, and seriously im- 
 pressed by the notices that ' Visitors must not handle 
 the books without permission,' and very much troubled 
 by the doings of this pleasant-looking gentleman, who 
 did not seem to realize that he was breaking rules. 
 After a short time she reluctantly approached him, and 
 said, ' Excuse me, sir, the public are not allowed to 
 handle our books.' The poor child could hardly recover 
 her breath after this great effort, when Dr. Clarke, 
 turning in his leisurely manner, said, ' But I am not the 
 public, I am a trustee/ and as she hastily endeavored to 
 excuse herself for having questioned his rights, he said, 
 * There is nothing to excuse, but everything to com- 
 mend ; you are faithful to a trust.' I was near enough 
 to see and hear, but they were not aware of my proxim- 
 ity. Dr. Clarke never forgot the girl ; his name for her 
 was ' our faithful girl,' and he often inquired for her in 
 his visits." 
 
 Of his interest in young men entering the ministry, 
 Rev. A. D. Mayo writes : '• I went into Freeman Place
 
 400 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Chapel one evening, and Mr. Clarke, seeing me, invited 
 me to come into the pulpit and preach. Out of this 
 kindly welcome grew up a delightful acquaintance for 
 the remaining six years of my first ministry in New 
 England. To me, a young man entering the profession 
 without the usual preparation, his fatherly kindness and 
 interest were, naturally, the most prominent feature of 
 his gracious personality. I recognized his gifts as a 
 preacher and writer, but this sight of him was subordi- 
 nate to the affection of a young man so generously ac- 
 cepted by a revered superior. I remember, especially, 
 one day when a long out-of-door talk with him confirmed 
 my purpose to seek a Western ministry." 
 
 He believed that every one owed to his country the 
 duty of voting. In a letter written while still in Louis- 
 ville, he speaks of the intensely warm August weather, 
 from which cause, in connection with work for the pub- 
 lic schools, he is " fairly worn out," and adds, " I must 
 vote on Monday, like a good citizen, and then I think I 
 shall leave. Half of my society have gone to the 
 East." 
 
 During the earlier years of his residence at Jamaica 
 Plain, the place for voting was about a mile distant, 
 and he and his hired man were accustomed to drive 
 there together. Mr. Clarke went first into the building, 
 and voted the Republican ticket. Then he remained 
 with the horse while his man went in and voted the 
 Democratic ticket. On one occasion when the election 
 day was stormy, Mr. Clarke suggested to his Democratic 
 friend that they should pair off and stay at home. The 
 man's countenance did not express assent, and Mr. 
 Clarke made haste to say, " You are right, we will both 
 go to the polls, and vote." 
 
 In one of these later years a lady asked him at a 
 musical party whether he were fond of music. He told 
 her just how far his interest went, which a connoisseur 
 would say was not far, and added, " I am really glad I
 
 THE MAN. 401 
 
 have not an interest in music, in addition to so many 
 others ; I am afraid it woukl be the last straw." 
 
 But he was so well rounded, and put so much heart 
 into every duty, that he had all the joy of eventful liv- 
 ing. In literary and social circles he Avas always wel- 
 come. It is a pity that we can give no adequate idea 
 of him as a member of the social circle ; of the charm of 
 his conversation ; the simplicity with which he would 
 drop into talk on the most serious themes ; while he 
 also enjoyed, as much as any one, amusements and 
 recreations which came to him without his going out of 
 his way to seek them. 
 
 A lady, who is an ornament of society and a leader in 
 educational and philanthropic circles, once took him to 
 a great ball in Washington. She has since said that she 
 looks back to a talk there with Mr. Clarke about the 
 future life as one of the most helpful conversations that 
 she ever had. To those about them they seemed to be 
 looking at the gay throng before them, but he had fallen 
 naturally into discourse upon a subject which was never 
 far from his thoughts. 
 
 Of his home-life Eev. William L. Chaffin has given 
 these pleasant reminiscences : — 
 
 As I said to you, some men look well through the 
 telescope, but not under the microscope. James Free- 
 man Clarke would bear examination under either, and 
 my sight of him in his own home gave me the highest 
 opinion of him I had. 
 
 I especially remember him as we gathered in the 
 morning at the table. When all were there, he would 
 have a moment's talk with God, his voice hardly raised 
 above a whisper, yet distinctly audible, so quiet, so rev- 
 erent, so confiding in his manner, that we all felt God 
 was right there. I can remember he would say : " We 
 thank thee, our Father, for the rest and quiet of the 
 night, for the morning light, for the new thought, the
 
 402 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 new hope and love thou givest us," — and so on, in such 
 a grateful and loving way that one could not help being 
 touched and blessed. 
 
 I was much impressed by his manner towards chil- 
 dren. You know Mr. Clarke was a good listener. One 
 saw he was paying heed to what one was saying, and 
 was not intent upon what he would say next. But he 
 was a good listener to children. If they expressed fool- 
 ish opinions, he did not directly correct or reprove. He 
 would quietly ask questions, set them thinking, and 
 gradually lead them out of their unwise notions, giv- 
 ing them the impression, no doubt, that they had thought 
 themselves out of them. This maintained their self- 
 respect, gave them confidence to express themselves, 
 and nourished their love for him. 
 
 He was in Meadville while " Uncle Tom's Cabin " was 
 being printed in the " National Era." One day his 
 daughter Lilian, full of excitement, came rushing for 
 one of her companions, and told her that another chapter 
 of " Uncle Tom's Cabin " had come, and her father 
 would read it to them. They went to his study, and sat 
 together on the rug before the open fire, he in his study 
 chair on one side, and he then read the chapter narrat- 
 ing the escape of Eliza. He was an excellent reader, 
 and to these two girls it was thrilling, and made an im- 
 pression never to be forgotten. 
 
 Is not this an interesting picture, these two little 
 girls, about nine and eleven years old, sitting in the 
 flickering firelight on the rug, eagerly intent on the 
 story he was so glad to read to them ? 
 
 My wife remembers that at Meadville, at the family 
 gatherings, he was the leader in the entertainment of 
 the children in that part of the day that was devoted to 
 them, as a part of it always was. He was quite a ven- 
 triloquist, and gave them great amusement in carrying 
 on conversations between a gentleman in one room and 
 his hired man in another ; also in imitation of the voices 
 of animals, and in other ways.
 
 THE MAN. 403 
 
 My wife also remembers another thing very grate- 
 fully. She came as a little girl from Newburyport to 
 go to Mr. Clarke's on a visit. He kindly met her at 
 the station in Boston, and took her out to Roxbury in 
 an omnibus. After a while all but they two had got 
 out. He noticed that the little girl was blue and home- 
 sick, and drawing her towards him, he entertained her 
 all the way out with fairy and other stories, changing 
 what, but for his tender sympathy, would have been a 
 dark and lonesome hour into one of the happiest hours 
 and one of the brightest recollections of her life. 
 
 He was an ideal traveling companion, interested in 
 everything to be seen ; and, when there was nothing to 
 be seen, producing from his inexhaustible memory story 
 or poem to beguile the hours. He had at his command 
 all the best poems in the English language. On a rainy 
 day, shut up with friends in a stage-coach, he would 
 help those about him to forget the prosaic present, and 
 live for the time in a world of infinite beauty or gran- 
 deur. And sailing on the Bay of Naples, or sitting by 
 a camp-fire in the Adirondacks, he would give to the 
 scene the added charm of words in which a poet had 
 sung the beauty of Nature. He did not, however, travel 
 without books. His hand-bag was filled with them ; 
 and in the breast-pocket of his coat was apt to be a copy 
 of Horace, a favorite with him from boyhood through- 
 out his life. 
 
 Of a journey taken in his company, when going to a 
 Western conference, Eev. S. W. Bush says : — 
 
 A party of six or eight friends traveled in an inclosed 
 stateroom, in a parlor car, and sat around a table in the 
 privacy of friendly intercourse. To travel with a friend 
 in this way is to put him to a real test. If he has any 
 "weak spots they will be sure to show themselves. Mr. 
 Clarke, under this test, was a charming companion.
 
 404 DIAEY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 While he never lost his grave and slow manner of speak- 
 ing, he was a very interesting story-teller. He was a 
 keen observer of men, and what he saw as well as what 
 he read was stored in his retentive memory. He had 
 the dramatic talent of impersonation and flashing wit 
 and playfulness, so that in his talk of men he repro- 
 duced admirable portraitures of character. In addition, 
 he had a love of the beautiful in nature, which kin- 
 dled his imagination. 
 
 We reached Niagara between nine and ten in the 
 evening. The moon was out in full splendor, and the 
 lights and shadows produced beautiful and picturesque 
 effects. As the cars, in crossing the bridge, slackened 
 their speed, he sat on the steps of the sleeping-car and 
 gazed in silence at the falls, with their deep roar, while 
 the spray danced in the moonbeams. iSTot a word fell 
 from his lips. The next morning, before breakfast, he 
 read us a poem which he had written. 
 
 With all this he recognized the adage of the wise 
 man that there is a time to speak and a time to be silent ; 
 so he never wearied us by incessant talk, but had his 
 refreshing pauses. The more intimately one knew him, 
 the more impressed he was with the thorough reality 
 of the man. He was as true and genuine in the palace 
 car as a familiar traveling companion as he was when 
 preaching in the pulpit at Milwaukee, before the West- 
 ern conference. 
 
 But though his memory was retentive of the books he 
 had read, the poems he had enjoyed, the scenes through 
 which he had passed, it did not serve him so faithfully 
 in regard to faces, and he sometimes had the mortifica- 
 tion of failing to recognize friends for whom he had a 
 sincere regard. He once spent some days at Paris in 
 the same hotel with members of a family whose house 
 had not long before been a delightful home to him 
 when on a visit to Washington, and of whose kindness
 
 THE MAN. 405 
 
 he liad often spoken. After he had met them two or 
 three times without recognition, tlie hidy very mag- 
 nanimously sent him her card, and thus gave him an 
 opportunity to explain his strange conduct. He was 
 exceedingly mortified at having mistaken a valued 
 friend for a stranger. 
 
 Also, when absorbed in any scene, he would perhaps 
 not remember the people who had been about him. 
 One day, in company with a few friends, he spent 
 a number of hours in visiting the Girls' Industrial 
 School at Lancaster. In the evening he went to the 
 weekly meeting of his church at the vestry, and after 
 greeting one and another of those present, said to a 
 parishioner whom he had long known well, " I wish you 
 had been with us to-day at Lancaster." " I tvas with 
 you to-day at Lancaster," the lady calmly replied. 
 
 To those in daily intercourse with him, his abound- 
 ing life gave a sense of the value of existence. One 
 saw how much the day might be made to hold. He 
 was always working, studying, producing, — enjoying 
 nature, art, books, people. He climbed mountains, 
 sailed, rowed, and sat up all night on the roof of the 
 house to observe the stars. He talked with theologians, 
 he played with children. He liked to go on journeys, 
 but was apt to return a day or two before the time set, 
 entering the house with a radiant air of satisfaction at 
 finding himself once more in his own home. 
 
 To the end of his life he continued to have the ex- 
 pectant outlook of youth. 
 
 By those who knew him chiefly as a thinker and 
 writer, or who heard him preach on special occasions, 
 the trait which has been most often mentioned was his 
 breadth of view, his fairness, his habit of looking at a 
 question on all sides. Among his fellow- workers on 
 boards or committees, he was liked because of his prac- 
 tical wisdom and his good-natured adaptiveness. In 
 political work, his fearlessness, his happy gift of self-
 
 406 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 possession, and his ready reply during discussion, made 
 him a useful coadjutor. 
 
 But there were other traits, which will remain longer 
 in the memories of the nearer circle with whom he came 
 into more intimate relations. He was what our ortho- 
 dox friends would call a " lover of souls," and this gave 
 to his services in the pulpit, or in missionary work, a 
 tenderness and sweetness such as that spoken of by the 
 minister who had shared his visit to the morning prayer- 
 meeting in another city. He knew that he himself 
 could not live without the sense of God's nearness at 
 every moment, and he earnestly endeavored to bring 
 the same help and comfort to every other heart. And 
 from his implicit trust came that abounding hope of 
 which we have spoken, which surrounded him as with 
 an atmosphere of sunshine. His hearers would leave 
 the church to take up again the duties and cares of life 
 with a more cheerful courage. A friend, who spent last 
 summer in Maine, found in a country place a working- 
 man who seemed in advance of the people about him, 
 and asked him the secret of this difference. He replied, 
 " It is owing to a sermon that I heard James Freeman 
 Clarke preach here years ago ; that was an era in my 
 life." 
 
 His cheerful faith and warm sympathy gave him the 
 power to bring comfort to the sorrowing, and to impart 
 hope to the dying. When he was still young in the 
 ministry, one of his heaviest burdens was to be called 
 upon to bear tidings of bereavement to a happy family 
 circle unconscious of loss. After a time, out of his 
 feeling of helplessness came the habit of leaning wholly 
 upon God in all times when a more than human wisdom 
 was needed, and by many, we think, he will be remem- 
 bered, more than in all other ways, as " the comforter." 
 
 When he compiled his service book, he put into the 
 funeral service some of the usual psalms referring to 
 death; but before long he ceased to use these. He
 
 THE MAN. 407 
 
 knew from his own experience that we never believe so 
 little in death as when we stand by the open grave, and 
 in those hours he appeared to reach a yet deeper faith 
 and a higher hope. AVhile he spoke, the heavens seemed 
 opened, and things unseen and eternal were made real 
 to sorrowing hearts. Death was swallowed up in life.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 THE EXD. 
 
 By the advice of his physician, Dr. Steclman, Mr. 
 Clarke went, in the latter part of March, 1888, to Lake- 
 wood, in New Jersey, to escape the harsh spring winds 
 of New England. He enjoyed the drives he was able 
 to take at Lakewood, and occasionally a very short 
 walk. But the greater part of his days were passed on 
 a lounge. He liked to have Mrs. Clarke read to him, 
 but he was able also to read himself, and even wished 
 to share with her and his daughter anything in his book 
 which he especially enjoyed. The diary for April 1st 
 says : '^ A. read aloud the last two chapters of John's 
 Gospel, and the extracts from Martineau in the ' Chris- 
 tian Eegister.' At eleven 1 walked a short distance, 
 rested fifteen minutes on a door-step, and walked back. 
 After tea, A. read aloud Dr. Furness's sermon in ' Chris- 
 tian Register.' " 
 
 That his daughter in Jamaica Plain might receive 
 something from his own hand on his birthday he 
 wrote : — 
 
 Lakewood, April 3, 1888. 
 
 . . . This is my birthday note to you, brimful of love 
 to yourself and our beloved ones. I am glad I have 
 been allowed to live so long. My life has been very 
 fortunate and happy ; and if now I can do no more work, 
 I am content to rest amid the love of friends, which is 
 the best part of our human life. 
 
 When April 4th came he at first felt a little like an
 
 THE END. 409 
 
 exile ; but this feeling vanished as tokens of affection 
 arrived from members of his church in Boston, and 
 from relatives and friends in other places. His room 
 was bright with flowers, and he was made happy by re- 
 ceiving these and other messages of remembrance. The 
 last poem which he wrote, and with which this record 
 of his life ends, was dated on this birthday. 
 
 On the 17th of April he sent to the " Christian Reg- 
 ister " an article on the Revised Version of the New 
 Testament. 
 
 The diary is broken with the " sj^raying of the 
 throat" and "bad fever attack." On the second of 
 May, with the nominal end of the hard New England 
 winter, he returned home. 
 
 He was still able to drive out. On the 9th of May he 
 married two young friends. On the loth of May he 
 preached " for the first time," as he says in his diary, 
 and, as it proved, for the last time. The text Avas, 
 "Lead us not into temptation." After the service he 
 sat in front of the pulpit, and took the hand of many 
 friends. As he drove home he said, " How good that 
 was ; how delightful to see them again ! " On the 22d 
 of May he makes the memorandum, " Finish sermon."' 
 As late as the 11th of May he had written a note to the 
 "Transcript," suggesting that a statue of Sir Henry 
 Vane should be placed in front of the new Public Li- 
 brary. The diary stops, with declining strength, on the 
 27th of May. The day before. Dr. Cheever had told his 
 family that there was no hope of recovery. 
 
 Dr. Clarke had looked forward to one more summer at 
 Magnolia, like the seven happy summers which he had 
 already spent at his own house there, and to sailing 
 with Mr. Foote on the " Sheila." But, when he knew 
 that there was to be no renewing of physical strength, 
 all his hopes turned toward the future, and he longed 
 to pass into that other life where he never doubted that 
 he should feel as much at home as here. When his
 
 410 DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 friend, Judge Allen, called one evening, Mr. Clarke 
 asked to see him. He wished to take his hand once 
 more and to tell him of the good he had received from 
 his friendship. He was able to take leave of one or 
 two other dear friends, but his strength was rapidly 
 failing, and he could say very little. Du.ring the last 
 days of May the annual meetings of the Unitarian de- 
 nomination were being held, and on the evening of the 
 social festival those present were told from the plat- 
 form that he would never meet with them again. A 
 hush fell on the assembly, and when a message of love 
 and remembrance was framed, the thousand men and 
 women present rose and stood while it was read. He 
 was able to hear the message, to look at the flowers sent 
 with it, and to be cheered by this token of sympathy 
 from friends who had been so dear to him. 
 
 Though too weak to talk, he could sometimes listen 
 to a few words. A sentence was read to him from a 
 letter which expressed gratitude for help which had 
 come from his writings. He said softly, " I have been 
 greatly blessed." 
 
 One day, after lying quiet a long time, he said, 
 " Please repeat to me the hymn, ' Abide with me.' " 
 He had evidently been thinking of it, but there were a 
 few words he could not recall. 
 
 He expressed his undoubting trust in a reunion here- 
 after with those who had gone before and those who 
 were yet to follow him. From day to day his bodily 
 strength failed, but his mind was perfectly clear to the 
 last, and faith, hope, and love endured. 
 
 Before midnight on Friday, the 8th of June, 1888, he 
 ceased to breathe. 
 
 The reader of this biography has before him not one 
 in a hundred of the memorials of unselfish, loyal work 
 for man and devotion to God, which it has been my 
 pleasure to examine in the years since he died, while I
 
 THE END. 411 
 
 have been trying to select what might be best fitted for 
 this biography. It is an instance of a life where a man 
 gave every day steadily to this or that duty for man- 
 kind, entering upon it with positive pleasure because it 
 was duty, and with a determination to do it as well as 
 he could, quite indifferent to the credit or the blame 
 which might be awarded to it by the world. His phys- 
 ical constitution, in early life, was not strong. But 
 the determination to be of use in God's world seems to 
 have mastered bodily ailments, and, for much of his life, 
 he was in well-nigh perfect working order. '' He is my 
 despair as he is my admiration," was the testimony, 
 while he lived, of one of his classmates and near 
 friends, who has himself rendered the highest service 
 to mankind. Such work as came to him to do he did 
 with an energy and directness which almost commanded 
 success. And then, if he were praised, or if he were 
 blamed, so far as men saw, it was all one. I have seen 
 him receive severe and sharp criticism of his course or 
 his writing, with the same good-natured smile with 
 which he would have received a compliment. "Very 
 likely it is as you say, but I did as well as I knew how." 
 It was simply impossible to quarrel with him ; he found 
 fault with himself, and he saw no reason why others 
 should not find fault with him. 
 
 In compiling from the large range of manuscript 
 memorials, I have found it difficult — it has proved im- 
 possible — rightly to preserve, in so small a space, the 
 proper perspective of his life. It does not follow that 
 because his enterprises in any regard do not take much 
 space on paper, they did not take a large place in his 
 thought, in his heart, in his estimate of duty. He 
 would spend as much time on the comfort of a new- 
 landed exile as he would spend upon a speech to a 
 thousand men, or as he would give to the occultation of 
 a planet. His friends may find that I have passed by 
 work and success which they value as important. I
 
 412 DIARY AND COIUiESPONDENCE. 
 
 can only ask that tliey will see liow wide was the field 
 from which I was to select. It is not a life which pre- 
 sents only a few salient points for study. It is the life 
 of an unselfish child of God. of tireless determination, 
 giving himself in every hour for the service of man- 
 kind. 
 
 ON DEATH. 
 
 " Therefore we come at last to think nothing about 
 dying, but more and more about living. We do not 
 desire to die in order to go to God, for God is with us 
 here, on this side as much as on the other. The nearer 
 death comes, the less we believe in it. Though an un- 
 happy style of religion has sought to make death ter- 
 rible, it has not succeeded in doing so. God fills the 
 heart with a better faith. He teaches us that he, the 
 infinite presence, the boundless tenderness, whose joy 
 is to pour himself out in nature as a ceaseless creator, 
 to make his myriad creatures full of gladness here, is 
 the same God who will be with us there. What mat- 
 ters it when we cross the line which divides this world 
 from the next ? It is only an imaginary line, like that 
 which divides two States of our Union. We pass from 
 Massachusetts into New Hampshire, and we do not 
 know it, for tfiere is the same scenery around, the same 
 sky above, the same sort of people, speaking the same 
 language. So it will be when we pass into the other 
 life. There will be the same God above, the same soul 
 within, the same beauty around in nature, like work to 
 do, similar objects of knowledge, loving hearts, benign 
 friendships, and an eternal progress. Therefore we 
 keep up all our activities to the end, and though the 
 outward man perishes, the inward man is renewed day 
 by day." 
 
 " If in a long life I have gained anything which is 
 worth keeping, it is the knowledge and friendship and
 
 THE END. 413 
 
 love of pure, generous, noble souls. Am I to lose that 
 great inheritance ? Am I to go into the other world 
 poor, lonely, homesick ? I do not so understand the 
 lessons of experience or the facts of observation. When 
 all other memory fades from the mind of the dying, 
 when his thoughts are bewildered, the impressions of 
 time effaced, he still shows by a faint pressure of the 
 hand that love remains. The last look of the dim eye 
 seeks the faces of those he loves. The last faint whis- 
 per of the failing voice is a murmur of blessing on 
 those dear ones. Love is stronger than death : will it 
 not survive the grave ? 
 
 " Yes, when I open my eyes on a new world I expect 
 to come once more into the company of those who have 
 been my inspiration, my comfort, my joy, in this life. 
 I shall learn what these years have been teaching them, 
 and they will again be my friendly companions and 
 helpers. I shall see again the parents and the dear 
 children whose love has sweetened my life. I shall be 
 a little child once more myself. And I hope to come 
 very near to my Master, Jesus, and to have my errors 
 corrected, and be taught the alphabet of a higher lan- 
 guage of truth. Not all at once ; for the laws of grada- 
 tion and limitation will probably apply there as here. 
 But if faith and hope and love abide, then there will 
 be always more of knowledge, more of work, and more 
 of love in the divine beyond." 
 
 "Soft as an infant's sleep shall be the coming of 
 death to you and to me. Sweet shall be the rest which 
 falls on the soul weary with work and the body ex- 
 hausted by years. Tenderly shall the death -cloud 
 envelop us, and hide all familiar things from our fail- 
 ing sight. And when we awake again, with no abrupt 
 transition, with no astonishment, we shall find our- 
 selves gently led into new being, in the midst of old 
 and new friends. We shall be in the presence of a
 
 414 DIARY AND COREESFONDENCE. 
 
 more divine beauty than tliat of tliis earth, and with 
 faculties opening into greater power to meet the new 
 knowledge and the new work of that next world, that 
 vast beyond." 
 
 PROTECTING SHADOWS. 
 
 I sit beneath the elm's protecting shadow, 
 
 Whose graceful form 
 
 Shelters from sunshine warm ; 
 While far around me, in the heated meadow, 
 
 The busy insects swarm. 
 Better than any roof these softly swaying leaves, 
 Opening and closing to the passing air. 
 Which from afar the fragrant breath receives 
 
 Of forest odors rare. 
 
 And, as the branches sway, 
 Revealing depths on depths of heavenly blue, 
 The tempered rays of sunshine, glancing through 
 In flickering spots of light, around me play ; 
 While little birds dart through the mazy web. 
 
 With happy chirp and song, 
 
 Fearing no wrong, 
 To their half-hidden nests above my head. 
 Thus, without motion, without speech or sound, 
 I rest, — a part of all this life around. 
 
 Beneath the shadow of the Great Protection 
 
 The soul sits, hushed and calm. 
 Bathed in the peace of that divine affection. 
 No fever-heats of life, or dull dejection 
 
 Can work the spirit harm. 
 
 Diviner heavens above 
 
 Look down on it in love. 
 And, as the varying winds move where they will, 
 In whispers soft, throiigh trackless fields of air, 
 So comes the Spirit's breath, serene and still, 
 Its tender messages of love to bear 
 From men of every race and speech and zone. 
 
 Making the wliole world one ; 
 Till every sword shall to a sickle bend, 
 And the long, weary strifes of earth shall end.
 
 THE END. 415 
 
 Be happy then, my heart, 
 That thou in all hast part, — 
 In all these outward gifts of time and sense, 
 In all the spirit's nobler influence. 
 
 In sun and snow and storm ; 
 In the vast life which flows through sea and sky, 
 Through every changing form 
 Whose beauty soon must die ; 
 In the things seen, which ever pass away ; 
 In things unseen, which shall forever stay ; 
 In the Eternal Love 
 That lifts the soul above 
 All earthly passion, grief, remorse, and care 
 Which lower life must bear. 
 Be happy now and ever, 
 Since from the Love divine no power the soul shall sever : 
 For not our feeble nor our stormy past, 
 Nor shadows from the future backward cast ; 
 Not all the gulfs of evil far below, 
 Nor mountain-peaks of good -which soar on high 
 
 Into the unstained sky, 
 Nor any power the universe can know ; 
 Not the vast laws to whose control is given 
 The blades of grass just springing fiom the sod, 
 And stars within the unsounded depths of heaven, — 
 Can touch the spirit hid with Christ in God. 
 For nought that he has made, below, above, 
 Can part us from his love. 
 
 April 4, 1888.
 
 WRITINGS OF JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE. 
 
 BOOKS. 
 
 Theodore ; or, The Skeptic's Conversion. Translated from 
 the German of De Wette. Boston, 1841. 
 
 Service Book. For the Church of the Disciples. Boston, 
 1844. 
 
 History of the Campaign of 1812, and Defence of Gen. Wil- 
 liam Hull for the Surrender of Detroit. Boston, 1848. 
 
 Eleven Weeks in Europe. Boston, 1852. 
 
 Memoirs of Margaret Fuller, written in connection with W. 
 H. Channing and R. W. Emerson. Boston, 1852. 
 
 Christian Doctrine of Forgiveness of Sin. Boston, 1852. 
 
 Christian Doctrine of Prayer. Boston, 1854. 
 
 Karl Hase : Life of Jesus. Boston, 1860. 
 
 The Hour which Cometh. A volume of sermons. Boston, 
 1864. 
 
 Orthodoxy : its Truths and Errors. Boston, 1866. 
 
 Steps of Belief. Boston, 1870. 
 
 Ten Great Religions. [Part I.] Boston, 1871. 
 
 Exotics. A collection of translations in verse. Boston, 1876. 
 
 Go up Higher ; or Religion in Common Life. Boston, 1877. 
 
 Essentials and Non-Essentials in Religion. Boston, 1878. 
 
 How to find the Stars. Boston, 1878. 
 
 Memorial and Biographical Sketches. Boston, 1878. 
 
 Common-Sense in Religion. Boston, 1879. 
 
 Events and Epochs in Religious History. Boston, 1881. 
 
 The Legend of Thomas Didymus, the Jewish Skeptic. Bos- 
 ton, 1881. 
 
 Self-Culture. Boston, 1882. 
 
 Ten Great Religions. Part II. Boston, 1883. 
 
 The Ideas of the Apostle Paul. Boston, 1884. 
 
 Anti-Slavery Days. New York, 1884. 
 
 Manual of Unitarian Belief. Boston, 1884. 
 
 The Problem of the Fourth Gospel. Boston, 1886.
 
 WRITINGS OF JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE. 417 
 
 Vexed Questions in Theology. Boston, 1886. 
 Every-Day Religion. Boston, 1886. 
 Sermons on the Lord's Prayer. London, 1888. 
 Deacon Herbert's Bible-Class. Boston, 1890. 
 
 MAGAZINE ARTICLES. 
 
 The Christian Examiner. — Robert Hall, 1833. The Pil- 
 grim Fathers, 1843. Fourierism, 1844. History of the Doc- 
 trine of the Atonement, 1845. Joan of Arc, 1848. Brownson's 
 Argnment for the Roman Church, 1850. Furness's History of 
 Jesus, 1850. The Christian Review on Original Sin, 1852. 
 Natural Depravit}' and Total Depravity, 1852. Polemics and 
 Irenics, 1854. H. J. Huidekoper : A Memorial Sketch, 1854. 
 Adams's South Side View of Slavery, 1855. James on the 
 Nature of Evil, 1855. The Progressive Friends, 1856. Presi- 
 dent Lord's Defence of Slavery, 1856. Comparative Theology 
 of Heathen Religions, 1857. Bishop Hopkins on Slavery, 1857. 
 The Revival of 1858, 1858. The Free Colored People of the 
 United States, 1859. The War, 1861. Buckle's History of 
 Civilization, 1861. Henry James on Creation, 1863. Military 
 Drill in Schools, 1864. The Two Carlyles ; or, Carlyle, past and 
 present, 1864. Open Questions in Theology, 1866. Bushnell 
 on Vicarious Sacrifice, 1866. The Fourth Gospel and its Author, 
 1868. Jean Jacques Rousseau, 1868. Are there Two Religions 
 in the New Testament ? 1869. 
 
 The Atlantic Monthly. — Adventure with Junius Brutus 
 Booth, September, 1861. A New Chapter of Christian Evi- 
 dences, March, 1869. Brahmanism, May, 1869. Buddhism, 
 June, 1869. Zoroaster, August, 1869. Confucius and the 
 Chinese, September. 1869. Mohammed, November, 1869. 
 Have Animals Souls? October, 1874. Barton's Life of Vol- 
 taire, August, 1881. 
 
 The North American Review. — Western History, 1836. 
 Hall's Statistics of the West, 1837. Wilson's Rise and Fall of 
 the Slave Power in America, 1875. Harriet Martineau, 1877. 
 Law and Design in Nature, 1879. Rational Sunday Observance, 
 1880. Did Shakspeare write Bacon's Works ? 1881. Affini- 
 ties of Buddhism and Christianity, 1883. Why I am not a 
 Free Religionist, 1887. 
 
 Old and New. — The Perfection of Jesus, 1870. George
 
 418 WRITINGS OF JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE. 
 
 D. Prentice, and Kentucky Thirty -five Years ago, 1870. 
 Wanted — a Statesman, 1870. Kenan's Paul, 1870. 
 
 ADPRESSES, SERMONS, AND ARTICLES IN PAMPHLET FORM. 
 
 Letter to Unitarian Society in Louisville. Reform and Con- 
 servatism. Slavery in the United States. The Pilgrim Fathers. 
 Character of George Keats. Protest against Slavery, signed by 
 Unitarian Ministers. Principles and Methods of the Church of 
 the Disciples. Phi Beta Kappa Poem. Story of a Converted 
 Skeptic. Charge at Ordination of T. W. Higginson. Dilemma 
 of Orthodoxy. An Important Question. The Church : as it 
 was, as it is, as it ought to be. Discourse at Dedication of Free- 
 man Place Chapel. James Freeman. Rendition of Burns. 
 Polemics and Irenics. Jesus Christ the True Corner-Stone. 
 False Witnesses answered. The Unitarian Reform. Theodore 
 Parker and his Theology. Causes and Consequences of the 
 Affair at Harper's Ferry. A Look at the Life of Theodore 
 Parker. Secession, Concession, or Self-Possession — Which ? 
 Christ and his Anti-Christs. Two Ways in Religion reviewed. 
 Aspects of the War. The Word in the Beginning with God. 
 Address at the Tercentenary of Shakspeare. Is Evil Eternal ? 
 Abraham Lincoln. Address to Agricultural Society. The Du- 
 ties of Massachusetts (election sermon). On giving Names 
 to Towns and Streets. Dedication of West Roxbury Soldiers' 
 Monument. A True Theology the Basis of Human Progress. 
 Peter at Antioch. Fourth of July Oration. One God, the 
 Father. The New Theology. Materialism and Atheism. 
 Work of Unitarianism in the Past, Present, and Future, 
 Coffee Houses and Coffee Palaces. Channing : Address at 
 Dedication of Memorial Window at Newport. R. W. Emerson. 
 Unitarian Belief and Fellowship. Five Points of Calvinism 
 and Five Points of the "New Theology. Sin against the Holy 
 Ghost. Introduction to the Gospel of John. Old and New 
 Ideas concerning the Divinity of Jesus. Is Probation or Edu- 
 cation the End of Life ? The Sabbath, Sunday, or Lord's Day 
 — Which? Old and New Views concerning the Bible. The 
 True Coming of Christ. Agnosticism vs. Positivism. The Her- 
 cules and Wagoner of To-day. The Scientific Basis of Prayer. 
 The Meaning and Value of the Lord's Supper at this time. 
 Some Reasons for believing in a Future Life. The Mutual
 
 WRITINGS OF JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE. 419 
 
 Obligations of Science and Religion. From Faith to Faith. A 
 Happy New Year. The Ministry of the Letter and the Ministry 
 of the Spirit. Melchizedek and his Moral. The Wrath of the 
 Lamb. Rejoice Evermore. Dorothea L. Dix. Anarchy and 
 Law. Temperance Efforts and Temperance Methods. The 
 Pew System and the Free-Seat System. The Mind of Christ. 
 What God gives He gives Forever. The Broad Church. Christ 
 and other Masters. The Old and New View of the Hereafter. 
 Lost Opportunities. Be not Weary in Well-doing. Homes in 
 Heaven and on Earth. The Joys of Christmas. How to get 
 the Most out of the Coming Year. I make All Things New. Man 
 doth not live by Bread alone. What do Unitarians believe about 
 God ? about Jesus Christ ? about Sin and Salvation ? about the 
 Holy Ghost? about Heaven and Hell? about Conversion and 
 Regeneration ? about Divine Providence and Human Freedom ? 
 in regard to the Supernatural Element in Christianity ? in 
 regard to Vicarious Sacrifice ? The True Doctrine of Liberal 
 Christianity. The Brotherhood of Man. The Atonement. The 
 Bible. Why am I a Unitarian ? Orthodox Views of the Atone- 
 ment. Lispiration of the New Testament. Revivals. Has Uni- 
 tarianism done its Work ? Church-going : Past, Present, and 
 Future. 
 
 Note. — No attempt has been made to give a list of Mr. 
 Clarke's articles in the " Western Messenger," the " Monthly 
 Journal," the " Christian World," the " Christian Inquirer," and 
 the " Christian Register."
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Abbott, Jacob, 72, 108. 
 
 Abington, '234. 
 
 Abolitionists, 220, 222, 223. 
 
 Acland, Dr., 309. 
 
 Adams, John Qiiincy, 122,_233, 248, 277. 
 
 Adams, Nehemiah, 220, 347. 
 
 Adams, Samuel, 237. 
 
 Agassiz, Professor, 163, 165, 329. 
 
 Agassiz, A., 352. 
 
 Alaska, 351. 
 
 Alcott, Bronson, 138, 188. 
 
 Alcott, Aliss, 138. 
 
 Aldrich, Thomas Bailey, 358. 
 
 AUston, Washington, 143. 
 
 Alps, The, 177, 178, 181. 
 
 " American Citizen, The," 230. 
 
 " American Churclies Bulwarks of Am- 
 erican Shavery," 230. 
 
 " American First Class Book," 33. 
 
 " American Slavery, as it is," 215. 
 
 Amory Hall, 159. 
 
 Amory, William, 381. 
 
 Andrew, John Albion, 6, 141 ; proposes 
 a contribution for defense of John 
 Brown, 205 ; extracts from birthday 
 address, 209, 210, 211 ; writes against 
 ■war with Mexico, 227 ; saying in praise 
 of John Brown, 236 ; governor of Mas- 
 sachusetts, 2G8, 269 ; indignant at in- 
 justice to colored troops, 244, 289 ; 
 connection with Church of the Disci- 
 ples, 269 ; call on the President, 280 ; 
 death of, 330, 386. 
 
 Andrew, Mrs. John A., 275, 279. 
 
 Antinomian, An, 74. 
 
 Antioeh College, 261. 
 
 " Anti-Slavery Days," 214, 218, 221, 232, 
 245, 248-250. 
 
 Anti-slavery leaders and woman suf- 
 frage, 324. 
 
 Anti-slavery opinion, growth of, 226. 
 
 Anti-Slavery Society, 248-250. 
 
 Antwerp, 182, 183. 
 
 April 19, 1861, 271. 
 
 " Arithmetic, First Lessons in," 31, 32. 
 
 Arnold, Matthew, 371. 
 
 Ashnrst, Colonel and Mrs., 285. 
 "Atlantic Monthly, The," 357. 
 
 August 1st, 234. 
 
 Augustus, John, 148. 
 
 Autobiography, 1-80 ; 81, 83, 84, 95, 96, 
 
 135, 164, 292, 345, 360, 365, 379. 
 Autumnal Convention, 263. 
 
 Bacon, Mr., 133. 
 
 Bailey, Gamaliel, 232, 276, 277. 
 
 Baltimore, 271. 
 
 Banks, Governor, 228. 
 
 Barber, Prof. H. H., 384. 
 
 Barnard, 161. 
 
 Barrett, Hepzibah, 2. 
 
 Barrett, Samuel, 156. 
 
 Bartol, Cyrus A., 122, 156. 
 
 Basel or Bale, 181, 374. 
 
 Beaufort, S. C, 347. 
 
 Beecher, Dr. Lymaii, 94. 
 
 Beethoven's symphonies, 140. 
 
 Bellows, Henry W., 86 ; editor of 
 "Christian Inquirer," 150, 227; let- 
 ter to, 169; letter from, to J. F. C, 
 183 ; met at Antioeh, 261 ; at Mead- 
 ville, 262; herculean labors of, 263; 
 founder of Sanitary Commission, 269. 
 
 Bentley, Dr., 87. 
 
 Berne, 181. 
 
 " Bible against Slavery," 222. 
 
 Bible-class, 159, 162. 
 
 Bigotry, 40. 
 
 Biographies of ministers, 136. 
 
 Bimey, James G., 217, 220, 224, 230. 
 
 Bond, George W., 207. 
 
 Bond, Henry May, 288. 
 
 Bond, Rebecca, 337. 
 
 Boston, 137, 138, 140, 335; association 
 of ministers, 163; churches in, 144, 
 151 ; coldness about slavery, 154. 
 
 " Boston Courier," 235. 
 
 Boston Latin School, 26, 28, 83, 396; 
 Public Library, 304, 399, 409. 
 I Botume, Miss, 347, 348. 
 
 Boutwell, George S., 289, 292. 
 
 Bowditch, Dr., 193. 
 
 Bowdoin College, 294. 
 
 Bowdoin prize dissertation, 85, 86. 
 
 Bradford, G. P., 358. 
 
 Bradley, Dr., 370, 371. 
 
 Breckeuridge, General, 100, 224. 
 
 Breckenridge, John, 76. 
 
 Briggs, Charles, 96. 
 
 Briggs, George W., 156, 157.
 
 422 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Bright, John, 371. 
 Brisbane, Mr., 138. 
 
 Britisli and Foreign Unitarian Associa- 
 tion, 359. 
 
 Brooli Farm, 139, 247, '273, 32S, 329. 
 
 Brooke, Stopford, 371. 
 
 Brooks, Preston, 171. 
 
 Brosowski, 106. 
 
 Brown, John, 205, 206, 237; famous 
 song on, 279. 
 
 Brown, Sir Thomas, 39. 
 
 Brown, William W., 172. 
 
 Browning, Mr. and Mrs., 195. 
 
 Browning, Robert, 370. 
 
 Buckingham, Joseph T., 235. 
 
 Buckminster, Martha, 3. 
 
 Buckminsters of Framingham, 3. 
 
 Burns, Anthony, 228, 233. 
 
 Burr, Aaron, 120. 
 
 Biirritt, Elihu, 172. 
 
 Bush, S. W., 315, 403. 
 
 Bushuell, Dr. Horace, 330. 
 
 Cabot, Dr. Samuel, and Mrs., 6, 194. 
 
 Call, Dr. Emma L., 306. 
 
 Call. Mr., 330. 
 
 Caltiiorp, Mr., 259. 
 
 Cambridge Divinity School, 88, 8J, -1.3, 
 
 214, 252, 297, 330. 
 Canal-boat travel, 59. 
 
 Cape Ann, 355. 
 
 Carlyle, Thomas, 115, 120, 121, 12u, 127, 
 
 377. 
 Carpenter, Prof. J. Estlin, 369 371. 
 Carpenter, Dr. William B., 3o9, 371. 
 Carter, Artemas, 201. 
 Chadwick, J. W., 314. 
 Chaffin, William L., 401. 
 Chandler, Mr., 208. 
 Change in church life, 146. 
 Channing, Prof. Edward, 45. 
 Channing, George G., 150, 159, 227. 
 Channing, Dr. William EUery, 87 ; let- 
 ters of, 114, 118; intercourse with, 
 122, 123; description of, 124, 142; 
 counsel and sympathy of, 142, 156, 
 157, 159-161 ; guiding influence of, 
 213; extracts from " Slavery," 218, 
 219 ; his letters quoted, 221-223 ; de- 
 sires more spiritual life, 252. 
 Channing, William Henry, description 
 of, in youth, 35, 36; classmate and 
 friend of Mr. Clarke, 46, 86, 141; 
 letters to, 101, 102, 107 ; connection 
 with " Western Messenger," 12,5- 
 127, 223; ordniation of, 129, 130; 
 eloquence of, 140, 141 ; writes in " Life 
 of Margaret Fuller," 141, 142, 188; 
 prayer at Church of the Disciples, 
 187 ; art criticism, 262 ; preaches in 
 W.ashington, 275; visit to camps in 
 "Virginia, 278 ; letters from, 377, 379 ; 
 a life-long friend, 353, 371, 380; fu- 
 neral of, 301. 
 Chapman, George, 50, 67, 96. 
 Chase, Salmon P., 232, 276, 277, 289. 
 Cheever, Dr., 409. 
 Chicago, 64, 135. 
 
 Children's Aid Society, 148. 
 
 " Christian Examiner," 206, 229, 230, 
 
 241,330. 
 " Christian Inquirer," 150, 169, 170, 184, 
 
 227, 228. 
 "Christian Register," 150, 246, 315, 
 
 409. 
 » Christian World," 163, 227. 
 Christians, practical agreement of, 266. 
 Church, elements of a, 108; an ideal, 
 252, 253 ; principles embodied in, 158, 
 100, 101. 
 Church of the Disciples, 146; name, 
 140, 147 ; without a choir, 147 ; fun- 
 damental principle, 147, 148 ; Wednes- 
 day evening meetings, 148; a free 
 church, 149; first service, 149; in- 
 crease of, 150 ; not representative of 
 locality, 151; withdrawal from, 152; 
 friendly relations, 152 ; organization, 
 100 ; social meetings, 104, 105 ; dedica- 
 tion of chapel, 107 ; sale of building, 
 187; meeting in 1851, 193; reestab- 
 lisl.ed, 201 ; cordial social life of, 202, 
 203 ; Dr. Holmes's description of, 203, 
 204; a missionary church, 205; new 
 building, 211; protest against war 
 with Mexico, 227 ; work for freed peo- 
 ple, 245; activity and devotion of, 
 257 ; Governor Andrew, an earnest 
 member of, 269 ; members of, in the 
 army, 270 ; a favorite hynm, 273 ; two 
 classes of hearers, 309, 310 ; its Sun- 
 day-school, 314 ; meetings on charities 
 of Boston, 338, 339 ; a birthday meet- 
 ing at, 353, 354 ; Sunday services at, 
 303, 305. 
 Cincinnati, 115, 231. 
 Clarke, Abraham, 64, 333, 355, 386. 
 Clarke, Mr. A. F., 162. 
 Clarke. Bxruabas, 2. 
 Clarke, Cora, 337, 350, 383. 
 Clarke, Dr. E. H., 358. 
 Clarke, Eliot, 329, 333, 367, 384. 
 Clarke, Hppzibah, 2. 
 Clarke, Herman, 105, 109, 179, 194, 337, 
 
 Clarke, Mrs. J. F., 132, 188, 194, 347, 
 
 350, 375. 
 Clarke, James Freeman, Autobiography, 
 1-80 ; 81, 83, 84, 95. 96 ; home in boy- 
 hood, 14, 22, 82, 83 ; education, 16- 
 18, 83 ; reading, 19-21 ; Boston Latin 
 School, 20, 30 ; college life, 34, 36, 
 41, 42, 44, 84, 85; painful expe- 
 rience, 45 - 47 ; reasons for going 
 West, 50 ; first sermon, 51 ; memories 
 of travel, 51, 5.5-.59; overturns, .52- 
 54 ; Niagara, 60 ; Trenton F.ill*, 63 ; 
 Chicago, 64; Louisville. 66, C8 ; ex- 
 tempore sermons, 09, 70 : homesick- 
 ness, 71 ; important question, 72 ; re- 
 ligious books read, 72 : sermons writ- 
 ten, 73 ; evening meetings, 73 ; intjir- 
 est in a certain phase of belief, 74, 75 ; 
 school-boy lines, 84 ; Bowdoin prize 
 essay, 85; judicial temperament, 8b, 
 92 ; early friendships, 86, 90 ; at Cam-
 
 INDEX. 
 
 423 
 
 bridge Divinity School, 88-90; read- 
 ing Goetlie, yo, 91 ; a poet, 91 ; Piiri- 
 tau dramas planned, 91, 92; text of 
 sermon, 9'i ; prayer, 93 ; paper on 
 Robert Hall, 93 ; at Louisville, 95- 
 99 ; " Western Messenger," 97, 108, 
 109, 115, l'J4-12G ; sermon on dueling, 
 98, 225 ; ordination, 99 ; admiration of 
 tlie West, 103, 104, 109 ; books planned, 
 102, 105 ; interest in Poles, 105, lOG, 
 108; studies, lOO, 108; sermon preaciied 
 on steamboat, 110, 111 ; objects seen, 
 113; at Mobile, 113, 114; Kentucky 
 History, 115; letter to Carlyle, 115; 
 in Cincinnati, 115, 129, 130 ; Sunday- 
 school, 118 ; discourse on temperance, 
 118 ; a long journey, 120 ; at a cliild's 
 funeral, 122 ; meeting with J. Q. Ad- 
 ams, 122 ; love of work, 125 ; admi- 
 ration of Emerson, 124 ; delight in 
 preaching, 128, 133 ; agent of public 
 Bcliools, 131, 132 ; various occupations, 
 131 ; marriage, 132 ; leaving Louis- 
 ville, 132, 135 ; Meadville, 132, 135, 
 13G; route to Meadville, 130; life in 
 Boston, 137 ; interest in all move- 
 ments, 139 ; friendship with W. H. 
 Channiug, 141 ; position on slavery 
 question, 141 ; respect for Wendell 
 Phillips, 141 ; description of Margaret 
 Fuller's " Conversations," 142 ; at 
 Dr. Chamiing's, 142 ; repartee, 144 ; 
 not a proselyter, 145; modest opinion 
 of his own importance, 146 ; compiler 
 of hymn-book, 147 ; idea of a free 
 churcli, 149, 155, 15G ; memoranda, 
 149, 150 ; regular duties as minister, 
 150 ; contributor to weekly papers, 
 150 ; exchange with Tlieodore Parker, 
 152, 255 ; friendly relations with se- 
 ceders, 152 ; baptisms by immersion, 
 153 ; director of Unitarian Association, 
 153 ; chaplain of Mass. Senate, 153 ; 
 fearless discussion of slavery question, 
 154; vindication of Gen. Hull, 155; 
 project of a new church, 155-157; 
 first service, 157 ; discourses, 158, 159 ; 
 organizing, 158, 160, 161 : interference 
 to protect a horse, 159 ; journals, 
 161-163 ; interest in prisoners, 1G3 ; 
 in Free-Soil movement, 163 ; contrib- 
 utes to the " Cliristian World," 1G3 ; 
 questions before Boston association of 
 ministers, 163 ; his children, l(i5 ; lec- 
 ture on Joan of Arc, 165 ; biographical 
 discourses, 166 ; poem before Phi Beta 
 Kappa Society, 166 ; seashore enjoy- 
 ment, 166 ; a row on Concord River, 
 166 ; sermon at dedication of Freeman 
 Place Cliapel, 167 ; plan of lectures on 
 reforms, 167, 1G8; diary, 167, 168; 
 deatli of his son, 169 ; a summer in 
 Europe, 171 ; delegate to the Peace 
 Congress, 171 - 173, 176 ; three things 
 he wished to see, 171 ; rules for 
 seeing works of art, 172 ; incident of 
 Salisbury spire, 173, 174, 176 ; passion 
 for high elevations, 174, 177, 181, 375 ; 
 
 life on board ship, 174 ; lines written 
 in the nnzzen-top, 174 ; excursions 
 in England and Wales, 175 ; West- 
 minster Abbey, 175 ; S.ilisbury Plain, 
 like an Illinois prairie, 17G ; Stone- 
 hcnge, 176 ; Alps, first view of, 177 ; 
 Strasbourg minster, 177 ; ascent of the 
 Rliigi, 177 ; thunder-storm, 177 ; walk 
 round the Juugfrau, 178 ; emotion in 
 little church in Untersee, 179 ; ascent 
 of tlie Gemmi, 179 ; view of Mont 
 Blanc, 180; down the Rliine to Co- 
 logne, 181 ; at Berne, 181 ; in old 
 church at Basel, 181, 182; love for 
 crypts, 182; day at Heidelberg, 182; 
 in Antwerp, 182, 183 ; characteristic 
 landing at Long Wharf, Boston, 183 ; 
 "The House that Jack built," 184; 
 a long illness, 186, 187 ; gap in min- 
 isterial life in Boston, 187 ; last ser- 
 vice in the Church of tlie Disciples, 
 187 ; severe disappointment, 187 ; at 
 Meadville, 188, UK), 191, 194, 197; 
 journeys, 188, 189, 194 ; Memoir of 
 Margaret Fuller, 188, 189; preaching, 
 189, 192 ; publications, 189, 191, 20G; 
 life with his cliildreu, 191 ; his pleas- 
 ant study, 191 ; intercourse with theo- 
 logical students, 191, 192; abhorrence 
 of slavery, 192 ; at Niagara Falls, 193 ; 
 visit to Boston, 193 ; second trip to 
 Europe, 195 ; a winter in Italy, 195 ; 
 lines on the " Riviera di Ponente," 
 195-197; tie with the Church of 
 tlie Disciples unbroken, 197 ; message 
 from Nice, 198-200 ; renewal of Bos- 
 ton pastorate, 201 ; Sunday - school, 
 
 201, 202 ; social meeting, importance 
 of, 202 ; interest of, how preserved, 
 
 202, 203; views of church member- 
 ship, 205 ; a missionary, 205 ; corre- 
 spondence, 206 ; question of permanent 
 home, 206, 207 ; purchase of Brook 
 Farm, 207 ; house at Jamaica Plain, 
 207, 208 ; trees, 207, 208 ; fiftieth birth- 
 day, 209 - 211 ; a citizen of Ken- 
 tucky, 214 ; anti-slavery lessons from 
 slaveholders, 214 ; visits to slave- 
 holding friends, 217 ; opposition to 
 slavery, 218 ; attitude as editor of 
 " Western Messenger," 218, 219, 223, 
 
 224 ; judgment of slavery, 220, 224, 
 
 225 ; opinion of Abolitionists unfa- 
 vorable, 222 ; not advocate of immedi- 
 ate emancipation, 222, 223 ; writings 
 against slaverj', 22G - 229 ; review of 
 Dr. Lord, 230; of Bishop Hopkins, 
 231 ; interest in colored people, 231, 
 232, 243, 244 ; discourse on rendition 
 of Anthony Burns, 233 ; speech, Aug. 
 1st, 234, 235; is censured, 235; ser- 
 mons against slavery, 23G ; high esti- 
 mate of John Brown, 236 ; address on 
 eve of Lincoln's election, 238 ; speech 
 in Tremont Temple in 1861, 239- 
 241 ; sermon on tlie state of the na- 
 tion, 242 ; pamplilet entitled " Seces- 
 sion," etc., 242,270; sermon on the
 
 424 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 " Plagues of Egypt and America," 
 243 ; in Hall of Representatives, Wasli- 
 ington, 244, 245 ; address at dedica- 
 tion of soldiers' monument, 24G ; ad- 
 miration of President Lincoln, 247 ; 
 letter to Garrison, 248 ; not fully 
 identified with Auti - Slavery Society, 
 249 ; social nature, 251 ; ideal church, 
 252 ; how received by Boston minis- 
 ters, 252 ; speech at annual meeting 
 of Unitarian Association, 252 ; hope on 
 returning from Louisville, 253 ; books 
 and sermons widely read, 254 ; divi- 
 fion line in work, 255; publications, 
 256 ; qualifications as mediator, 256 ; 
 member of Unitarian Association, 257, 
 258 ;writer in " Monthly Journal," 259; 
 Western tours, 259, 2G0 ; opinion of co- 
 education, 201 ; address at autunuial 
 convention, 263 ; convention sermon, 
 264-267 ; lectures in Music Hall, 207 ; 
 intimacy with Gov. Andrew, 208, 269 ; 
 member of sanitary commission dur- 
 ing the war, 269, 270 ; extracts from 
 diary, 271, 273, 275, 284, 285 ; April 
 19, 1801, 271 ; sermon after attack 
 on Fort Sumter, 271, 272 ; hopefulness 
 after Bull Run, 272 ; address at fu- 
 neral of William Lowell Putnam, 274 ; 
 visit to Washington, 275-281, 289 ; in 
 Virginian camps, 279 - 281 ; extracts 
 from sermons, 281-283, 291, 320-322; 
 at contraband camp, 285 ; at Gettys- 
 burg, 286, 287 ; of sanitary relief corps, 
 290 ; interest in public education, 292 
 professor in Divinity School, Cam- 
 bridge, 292, 293, 297, 298 ; an overseer 
 of Harvard College, 293 ; a loyal child 
 of the university, 294 ; plans for im- 
 provement of Divinity School, 295 ; 
 reports to board of overseers, 290, 297 ; 
 lectures, 299 ; report on study of mod- 
 ern languages, 300, 301 ; on the study 
 of Greek, 301 ; admission of womeu 
 to Harvard, 302 ; resolutions on con- 
 ferring degrees, 303, 304 ; interest in 
 astronomy, 304, 305 ; trustee of Bos- 
 ton Public Library, 304 ; a " perfect " 
 teacher, 305; book called "Self-Cul- 
 ture," 305 ; acquaintance with French 
 and German, 306 ; use of pencil, 300 ; 
 speech at Commencement dinner, 
 306, 307 ; extempore speaking, 308 ; 
 sermons, 308-311; habits at print- 
 ing-office, 311, 312 ; incident related 
 in " Self - Culture," 312 ; preach- 
 ing described by Margaret Fuller, 
 313; by John A. Andrew, 313; by 
 young graduate, 314 ; incident at Al- 
 bany, 315 ; tribute from S. W. Bush, 
 315 ; from Thomas L. Eliot, 316; charge 
 at an ordination, 316, 317 ; address at 
 Divinity School, 318 ; extract from the 
 " Monthly Jo\irnal," 218 ; varied ac- 
 tivities, 323, 328, 329, 350, 366 : inter- 
 est in woman suffrage, 324-326, 328, 
 330, 337 ; dealing with vexed ques- 
 tions, 326, 327 ; election sermon, 330 ; 
 
 misses Gov. Andrew every day, 330 ; 
 trip to the West, 331 ; notice of an 
 eclipse, 331, 332; gunning, 333; fish- 
 ing, 334 ; extracts from diary, 333, 
 334 ; series of discourses, 335 ; a sa- 
 cred anniversary, 337 ; before com- 
 mittee at the State House, 338 ; sad- 
 ness at death of Don, 339 ; Louisville 
 visits, 340 ; memories of tlie past, 341 ; 
 college class, 345 ; text of first ser- 
 mon, 346 ; creed in four words, 341! ; 
 journey to the South, 347 ; visit to Old 
 Fort plantation, 347 ; sermon on St. 
 Helena island, 349 ; publications, 353, 
 300, 363 ; seventieth birthday, 353, 
 354 ; love for the seashore, 354, 355 ; 
 lectures at Lowell Institute, 356, 359, 
 368 ; lectures and classes, 357 ; visits 
 to " Atlantic Monthly " office, 358 ; 
 member of Examiner Club, 358 ; con- 
 tributor to Thursday club, 359 ; visit 
 to Europe, 359 ; parish work, 359- 
 301 ; interest in civil service reform, 
 360,361 ; at funeral of Wm. H. Chan- 
 ning, 301; seventy -fifth birthday, 
 362, 381 ; address on life of Dr. Free- 
 man, 362 ; paper before Congress of 
 churches, 362 ; home at Magnolia, 362, 
 304 ; plans for work, 363 ; correspond- 
 ence 364, 365 ; at conference in Phil- 
 adelphia, 304 ; sermons, 305, 306 ; an 
 accident, 306 ; his grandchildren, 307, 
 379, 380, 384 ; diaries in England, 
 369, 370 ; people met in Oxford and 
 London, 369 - 371 ; preachers heard, 
 371, 372 ; curiosities seen, 372, 373 ; 
 House of Commons, 373 ; churches of 
 Paris, 373 ; Switzerland, 374 ; Holland, 
 375 ; visit to Nazing, 375 ; praise of 
 John Eliot, 376 ; letters destroyed, 
 378 ; a great sorrow, 379 ; on death of 
 Wm. G. Eliot, 382 ; life at Magnolia, 
 384, 385 ; method of taking altitudes, 
 387 ; his faith in God, 389 ; faith in 
 man, 390; a "truth -teller," 391; 
 characteristics, 391, 392, 411 ; descrip- 
 tion of himself, 393, 394; no fixed 
 habits, 393, 394 ; unity in his charac- 
 ter, 395, 396 ; first appearance at Latin 
 School, 396 ; fearlessness, 396 ; sym- 
 pathy with children, 396, 397, 403 ; in- 
 cident at Lowell, 397, 398 ; skill in 
 presiding, 398 ; a visit to Boston Pub- 
 lic Library, 399 ; interest in young 
 men entering the ministry, 400 ; wel- 
 comed in social circles, 401 ; talk at a 
 ball, 401 ; his home-life, 402 ; a good 
 "listener, 402 ; a picture in study at 
 Meadville, 402 ; an ideal traveling 
 companion, 403 ; an interesting story- 
 teller, 404 ; at Niagara, 404 ; his mem- 
 ory, 404, 405 ; other traits, 405, 406 ; 
 a comforter, 400 ; six weeks in New 
 Jersey, 408, 409 ; article on revised 
 version of New Testament, 409 ; 
 preaches for the last time, 409 ; scene 
 at aimual social festival, 410; trust in 
 a reunion hereafter, 410 ; " he ceased
 
 INDEX. 
 
 425 
 
 to breathe," 410 ; on death, 412, 413 ; 
 
 " Protecting Shadows," 414, 415. 
 Clarke, Lilian, 194, '2S5, 344, 3i;t», 402. 
 Clarke, Kebecca Parker [Hull], C-8, 
 
 10. 
 Clarke, Samuel, 2, 3. 
 Clarke, Dr. Samuel, 5, 6, 8, 9, 81, 82. 
 Clarke, Samuel C, or "Sam," 10, 82, 
 
 84, 329, 331, 333. 
 Clarke, Thomas, mate of the Mayflower, 
 
 2. 
 Clarke, William, G4, 334. 
 Clay, Cassius M., 223, 224. 
 Clay, Henry, 80, 239, 277. 
 Clerical mauners iu the West, 103. 
 Clergymen's lives difficult to describe, 
 
 13t;. 
 Cleveland, Grover, 361. 
 Cobbe, Frances Power, 371. 
 Cobdeu, 172, 17G. 
 Colburn, Warren, 31, 32. 
 Coleridge, 39, 45, 87. 
 College, years iu, a preparation for life, 
 
 43. 
 "Collegian, The," 35. 
 Colonization Society, 219, 221. 
 Colored people, condition of, 231, 232. 
 Colored troops, 244, 2S9. 
 Compromises of 1850, 276. 
 Conant, A. H., 162, 263, 380. 
 Concord, 160. 
 Congregational church, 11 ; minister, 
 
 13 ; churches, 255. 
 Congregationalism, tlieory of, 145. 
 Congress of churches, 362. 
 Constant, Benjamin, 139. 
 Conventions, 138. 
 Coolidge, J. I. T., 257. 
 Coolidge, Jefferson, 384. 
 Coolidge, Joseph, 5. 
 Coolidge, Joseph, Jr., 5. 
 Copeland, Morris, 247. 
 Copy of Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats, 
 
 329. 
 Coquerel, Athanase, 172, 176. 
 Cotton, influence of, on slavery, 154. 
 Cotton, John, 88. 
 Cranch, C. P., 126. 
 Cranch, Edward, 130. 
 Cromwell, Oliver, 372, 373. 
 Cromwell, Richard, 372. 
 Cruft, S. B., 366. 
 Crypts, 1S2. 
 
 Curious literary deception, 33. 
 Curtis, Anna, 4. 
 
 Curtis, Benjamin Robbius, 34, 35, 46. 
 Curtis, Charles Pelliam, 5. 
 Curtis, James Freeman, 5. 
 Curtis, Martha, 3, 4. 
 Curtis, Obadiah, 3, 4. 
 Curtis, Sarah, or " Sally," 4, 14, 21. 
 Curtis, Thomas, 4. 
 Curtis, Tliomas Buckminster, 5. 
 Curtis, William, emigrant from Nazing, 
 
 3-5, 375. 
 
 D^lton, Professor, 282. 
 Daniel, Book of, 139. 
 
 Dante, 349. 
 
 Daviess, Joseph Hamilton, 80, 99. 
 Davis, George T., 36, 39. 
 Davis, Jefferson, 352. 
 Day, J. W., :j<<1. 
 Deguerry, tlie Abbe, 172. 
 Dennie, William, 3. 
 Detroit, surrender of, by Hull, 83. 
 Devens, Charles, 10. 
 De Wette, Dr., 181. 
 Dewey, Orville, 169. 
 " Dial, Tlie," 143. 
 
 Dictionaries, superstition of, 17, 29. 
 Divinity School, Cambridge, 88 ; of Uni- 
 tarian Church, 293. 
 Dix, Dorothea, 383. 
 Dixwell, Epes S., 83. 
 " Doctrine of Prayer," 256. 
 Don, 339. 
 Drake, Dr., 130. 
 Dred Scott case, 228. 
 Dueling, 98, 101, 225. 
 Duncan, Garnet, 32. 
 D wight, Dr., 294. 
 
 Eclipse described, 331, 332. 
 
 Edgeworth, Maria, stories of, 18, 19. 
 
 Education, Board of, 292. 
 
 "Elegy iu a Country Churchyard," 
 372. 
 
 Eliot, John, 3, 25, 375, 376. 
 
 Eliot, Samuel A., 140. 
 
 Eliot, Thomas L., 316. 
 
 Eliot, William G., SO, 95, 129, 130, 2.51, 
 263 ; letters to, 104, 336, 367, 368, 378, 
 381 
 
 Emerson, Ralph Waldo, 22, 84, 86, 89 ; 
 conversation with, 85; letters to, 115, 
 120, 121, 124, 128 ; letters from, 123, 
 126 ; praise of, 124 ; poems, 124, 125 ; 
 remark of, 133; a lecturer, 140; writ- 
 er in " Life of Margaret Fuller," 142, 
 188; frequenter of foreign bookstore, 
 143 ; religious speculations of, 328 ; 
 member of Examiner Club, 358 ; fu- 
 neral of, 359 ; correspondence with 
 Carlyle, 377. 
 
 Eppiug Forest, 375. 
 
 Erasmus, bust of, 182. 
 
 Espy, Professor, 135. 
 
 " Essentials and Non-Essentials in Re- 
 ligion," 267. 
 
 European tour, the effects of, 186. 
 
 Everett, Edward, 271. 
 
 Examiner Club, 336, 344, 358. 
 
 Faith, 104. 
 
 Farley, Frederick A., 129, 130, 161. 
 Farrar, Canon F. W., 371. 
 Farrar, John, 37. 
 Female medical school, 303. 
 Fields, James T., 350, a57, 358. 
 Fields, Mrs. James T., 384. 
 Finney, Dr., 250. 
 First sermon, 1, 51, 93. 
 First twenty years, 1. 
 Flag, "the cultus" of, at a Virginia 
 camp, 281.
 
 426 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Florence, 139. 
 
 Follen, Dr. Charles, 43, 214. 
 
 Foote, Henry W., 353, 305, 384, 385, 
 409. 
 
 Foreign bookstore, frequenters of, 143. 
 
 Fourth, The, 121, 122. 
 
 Fowle, William B., 33. 
 
 Fraser, Sir William, 372. 
 
 Free-Soil party, 163, 206, 276. 
 
 Freeman, Rev. James, 3, 4 ; excellence 
 as a teacher, 10-18, 83, 387 ; house of, 
 22, 25; of King's Chapel, 81, 82, 213, 
 362. 
 
 Freeman, Martha [Curtis], 4, 13. 
 
 Freeman Place Chapel, 100, 167, 188, 
 194. 
 
 Freiburg minster, 177. 
 
 Fresh Pond, 45. 
 
 Fruitlands, 138. 
 
 Fugitive slave law, 227, 228, 276. 
 
 Fuller, Margaret, 71, 12u, 313 ; letters 
 to, 99, 100, 105, 107-110 ; life of, writ- 
 ten, 91, 141, 188, 189 ; classes for con- 
 versation, 142, 143. 
 
 Furness, Dr., 337. 304, 408. 
 
 Fumess, Mr. and Mrs., 109. 
 
 Gannett, Dr. E. S., 157, 158, 101, 103, 
 
 203. 
 Garden pleasures, 14, 15. 
 Gardner, Governor, 228. 
 Garibaldi, 371. 
 Garrison, William Lloyd, 220, 221, 247, 
 
 248. 
 Gemmi Pass, the, 179. 
 German books, 87. 
 Gettysburg, 286, 287. 
 Ghost story, a, 7. 
 Giddings, Joshua, 232, 276. 
 Gill, Thomas H., 371. 
 Girardin, Emile de, 172. 
 Gladstone, 373. 
 Goddard, Francis E., 32, 96. 
 Goddard, Mr., 358. 
 Goodwin, Simeon S., 66, 67. 
 Gospels, the four, 88. 
 Gould, Benjamin A., 31, 83. 
 Gray, Frederick T., 122, 149, 257. 
 Greene, Colonel William B., 279. 
 Greene, Mrs. William B., 287. 
 Greene, William, 130. 
 Greene, Mrs., 130. 
 Greenwood, F. W. P., 389. 
 Grimes, Mr., 6. 
 Guyandotte route, the, 57, 90. 
 Gymnastics, 43, 44, 85, 174. 
 
 Hale, Edward Everett, 138, 302, 336, 
 
 358. 
 Hale, Ellen, 369. 
 Hale, John P., 232, 276. 
 Hall, Nathaniel, 261. 
 Hampstead, 369. 
 Harvard club, 362; college, 34, 41, 84__; 
 
 emulation the motive appealed to, 37, 
 
 40-42 ; boards of, 294, 306. 
 Haweis, Mr., 371. 
 Hawthorne, Mrs. [Peabody], 143. 
 
 H.awthorne, Nathaniel, 143, 106. 
 
 Hayden, Lewis, VM. 
 
 Hedge, Frederick Henry, 86, 91, 120, 
 
 142, 143, 109, 3S7. 
 Heidelberg, 182. 
 Hemenway, Mrs., 384. 
 Hemp, field of, 77. 
 " Herald of Health," 393. 
 Herbert, George, 198. 
 Henry, Patrick, 237. 
 Heywood, Mr.. 340, 341. 
 Higginson, Francis, 373. 
 Higginson, T. Wentworth, 308, 324. 
 Hill, Miss Octavia, 371. 
 Hillard, George Stillman, 84. 
 Hillard, Mrs. G. S.,341. 
 Hills, influence of, 22. 
 Hilton Head, 348. 349. 
 Hinckley, Mr., 337. 
 Holidays, 234. 
 Holland, 375. 
 
 HoUey, Horace, 67, 94, 95. 
 
 HoUis Street Church, 263. 
 
 Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 35, 81, 203, 273, 
 353, 358. 
 
 Home for aged colored women, 148. 
 
 Home, temporary, for children, 148. 
 
 Homer, Anna [Curtis], 4. 
 
 Homer, Dr. Jonathan, 12, 13. 
 
 Hooper, Samuel, 285. 
 
 Hopedale, 139. 
 
 Hopkins, Bishop John H., 229-231. 
 
 Horses in Kentucky, 52. 
 
 Hosea, Mr., 201. 
 
 Hosmer, Dr.,201,2G2. 
 
 Houston, Samuel, 270. 
 
 Howe, Colonel, 275. 
 
 Howe, Mrs. Julia Ward, 337, 353. 
 
 Hubbard, Gurdon, 64. 
 
 Huidekoper, Anna, 132. 
 
 Huidekoper, Henry, 285. 
 
 Huidekoper, Mr., 95, 190, 375. 
 
 Hull, Abraham, 24. 
 
 Hull, General William, 83; hospitality 
 of, 22, 23 ; vindication of, 155. 
 
 Hunt, Mr., 394. 
 
 Huntington, Frederick D., 257. 
 
 Hutton, Dr., 175. 
 
 " Ideal church," 252. 
 
 Indiana-Place Chapel, 211. 
 
 Indians, "western Orientalists," 110. 
 
 Infidel, so called, 77, 117. 
 
 Inspiration, literal, of Old Testament, 
 
 74, 75, 77. 
 Irwin, Mr. and Mrs., 109. 
 Italy, 195. 
 
 Jackson, Francis, 239. 
 Jackson, Dr. James, 194. 
 James, Henry, 358. 
 Jameson, Mrs., 127. 
 Jefferson, Thomas, 215. 
 Joan of Arc, 165, 106, 356. 
 Jnwett, Dr., 370. 
 I Julian, 232, 276.__ 
 Jungfrau, 177, 178.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 427 
 
 Kansas, 203. 
 
 Keats, George, 107, 121. 
 
 Keats, John, 107, 329. 
 
 Kenilile, Fanny, lU'J. 
 
 Kentuckians, 71), 1)8, 99, 103, 12^ 
 
 Kentucky, 5.', 78, 79, 94, 95, 98, 103, 
 
 132 ; forests, 100, 121 ; slavery ia, 214, 
 
 218, 219, 224. 
 " Kentucky History," 115. 
 Kettle Island, 355. 
 
 " Key to ' Uncle Tom's Cabin,' " 215^ 
 King, Clarence, 344. 
 King, Starr, 257. 
 King's Chapel, 81,82, 3G2. 
 Kinzie, Mr., G4. 
 
 Kirk, Edward N., 153, 2S3, 254. 
 Knapp, 263. 
 Kossuth, 194. 
 
 Laboratory, 25. 
 
 " Lady of the Like," 15, 16. 
 
 Lake Leman, 181. 
 
 Lakes, the, 64, 65 ; Zug and Lucerne, 
 
 177. 
 Lancaster, 405. 
 Lane, Mr., 138. 
 Latin Grammar, IG, 29, 30. 
 Latin School, 20, 28, 396. 
 Latter-day Saints, 139. 
 Lawrence, Mr. and Mrs. Edwin, 385. 
 Lay preaching, 1G2. 
 Lesley, Mr,, 109, 337. 
 Letters ; to 
 
 Margaret Fuller, 90, 100, 105, 107- 
 
 110, H5. 
 W. H. Channing, 101, 102, 107, 116, 
 
 117. 
 W. G. Eliot, 104, 33G, 367, 368, 378, 
 
 381. 
 G. T. D., 108, 120. 
 H. T. D., Ill, 112. 
 Editor *•' Western Messenger," 111. 
 Mr. and Mrs. G. T. D., 119. 
 R. W. Emerson, 120, 124, 128. 
 A. H., 121, 123, 125, 126, 128, 129, 
 
 131. 
 A. H. C, 133, 156, 175, 193, 290, 
 
 330, 333, 337, 340, 3i;8. 
 His sister, 155, 211, 288, 33.5, 337- 
 339, 341, 343, 344, 349-352, 37G, 
 379, 382-387. 
 S. S. C, 165, 185, 328, ,3,55. 
 H. W. Bellows, 169, 184. 
 Mrs. A. F. C, 193. 
 Church of the Disciples, 198-200. 
 T. "W. Higginson, 208. 
 E. E. Hale, 262, 297, 303, 336, 338, 
 
 351. 
 N. Augustus Staples, 284. 
 E. C. C, 289. 
 Professor in a theological school, 
 
 299. 
 A young minister, 319. 
 His daugiiter, 329, 408. 
 L. F. C, 331. 
 Mrs. G. S. Hillard, 341. 
 H. W. Bellows. 342. 
 Samuel May, 345. 
 
 J. T. Fields, 350. 
 
 Rev. John Cordner, 377. 
 
 Rev. J. W. Day, 381. 
 
 Kev. J. H. Allen, 380. 
 
 S. C. C, 382. 
 
 F. H. Hedge, 387. 
 Lexington, Ky., 94, 109. 
 Leyden, 375. 
 
 Lieber, Dr. Francis, 61-63. 
 Lincoln, Abraham, 78, 218, 238, 243, 247, 
 
 275, 277, 284, 341, 342. 
 Lind, Jenny, 193. 
 Livingstone, David, 390. 
 Ljcke, John, philosophy of, 39, 89. 
 Lombard, Mr., 352. 
 Loudon, 89, 369. 
 Longworth, Mr., 130. 
 Lord, Nathan, 229, 230. 
 Loring, Caleb, 4. 
 Loring, Charles G., 328. 
 Loring, Edward G., 228. 
 Loring, Mrs. Ellis Gray, 284. 
 Louisville, 66, 68, 94, 98, 100; a lady of. 
 75, 76 ; life at, 96 ; Unitarian Society 
 at, 96, 97, 133 ; visits, 340. 
 " Louisville Journal," 218. 
 Lovejoy, Elijah P,, 222. 
 Lowell, James Russell, 357. 
 Lowell, John, Jr., 130. 
 Lowell Lectures, 368. 
 Lucerne, Lake of, 178, 374. 
 Lundy's Lane, 24. 
 
 Mackintosh, Sir James, 178. 
 
 Macy, General, 329. 
 
 Maffitt, 109. 
 
 Magnolia, 355, 362. 
 
 Mimmoth Cave, 189, 190, 300. 
 
 Mangasarian, Mr., 364. 
 
 Manliness, true and false, 45. 
 
 Mann, Horace, 10, 48, 232, 233, 261, 276, 
 283. 
 
 Mann, Mrs. Horace [Peabody], 10, 143. 
 
 Marblehead men, 278. 
 
 Marsh, Professor, 39. 
 
 Marshall, Mr.s., 216. 
 
 Martineau, Harriet. 109. 
 
 Martineau, James, 372. 
 
 Mary, Queen of Scots, 373. 
 
 Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society, 235. 
 
 Massachusetts Fourteenth Regiment, 
 279-281. 
 
 Massachusetts Woman Suffrage Associ- 
 ation, 249. 
 
 May, Joseph, 364. 
 
 May, Sa&uel J., 156, 213 ; letter to, 345. 
 
 Mayo, A. D., 399. 
 
 MeClellan, General, 279. 
 
 McDuffie, Governor, 216. 
 
 Meadville, 132, 135, 136, 256, 261, 262, 
 293, 402. 
 
 Meetings for discourse, 73, 74. 
 
 Melbourne, 383. 
 
 " Memorial History of Boston," 206. 
 
 Mexico, war with. 227. 
 
 Mickiewitz, Casiniir, 105, 107. 
 
 Miller, William, 139. 
 
 Milwaukee, 383.
 
 428 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Mineralogy, 106. 
 
 Mississippi River, 110. 
 
 Mobile, 112-114. 
 
 Money, allowance of, 24, 25. 
 
 Mont Blanc, 180. 
 
 Montgomery, Dick, 352. 
 
 " Monthly Journal," 203, 275, 336. 
 
 Morgan, 288. 
 
 Mormons, 139. 
 
 Muir, Sir William Hamilton, 370. 
 
 Miiller, Max, 370. 
 
 Mumlord, Thomas J., ISO. 
 
 Museum, 24. 
 
 " National Anti-slavery Standard," 234. 
 National Conference of Unitarian 
 
 Churches, 2(54. 
 " National Era," 276,402. 
 National road from Wheeling, Va., 11, 
 
 12, 379. 
 Nazmg, 375. 
 Negro flogging, 111. 
 New England, 50, 86, 87, 94, 97. 
 New England Emigrant Aid Co., 251. 
 New Jersey, 408. 
 " New York Observer," 1C3. 
 " New York Tribune," 279. 
 Newcastle railroad, 100. 
 Newton, town of, 11, 12, 379. 
 Newton, Stewart, 127. 
 Niagara, CO, 61, 188, 189, 193, 404. 
 Niebuhr, Baron, 62. 
 Nonantum, 25. 
 North, Anti - slavery opinion of the, 
 
 247. 
 " North American Review," 248. 
 Norton, Andrews, 88. 
 Norton^ David W., 289. 
 " Notes on the State of Virginia," 215. 
 Novels, 21. 
 Novelties, 147. 
 
 Ogden, William B., 64. 
 
 Old Corner Bookstore, 358. 
 
 Old Manse, 166. 
 
 Old South Church, 345. 
 
 " Oldtown Folks," 23. 
 
 Oliphant, Lady, 344. 
 
 Oliphant, Mr. and Mrs. Laurence, 344. 
 
 Orthodoxy, leaders of, 2.'53, 254. 
 
 Osgood, Samuel, 162, 169, 184, 227. 
 
 Otis, James, 237. 
 
 Overseers of church, 147. 
 
 Overseers, Boards of, 294, 306. 
 
 Owen, Robert, 138. 
 
 Oxford, 369, 370. 
 
 Oxford movement. The, 139. 
 
 Paddock elms, 345. 
 
 Palfrey, John G., 90, 141, 214, 233. 
 
 Park, John C, 381. 
 
 Parker, Mr., 310. 
 
 Parker, Theodore. 151. 152, 193, 227, 254, 
 
 255,259,324,371, .S80. 
 Parkman, Francis, 96, 157, 101. 
 Parnell, 373. 
 Patterson. Mr., 65. 
 Peabody, Ephraim, 95, 161, 251, 257. 
 
 Peabody, Nathaniel, daughters of, 10; 
 
 house of, 143. 
 Peace Congress, 171-173, 176. 
 Peers, President, 102. 
 Peirce, Benjamin, 34. 
 Pennsylvania route, 96. 
 Perkins, James U., 36, 130, 169, 380. 
 Petersburg, 289. 
 Philadelphia, 337, 350, 364. 
 Phillips, John, 201. 
 Phillips, Jonathan, 223. 
 Phillips, Wendell, 84, 141. 
 Phonograph, 352. 
 Phrenology, 47-49. 
 Pierpont, John, 32, 96. 
 Pillsbury, Parker, 351. 
 Pittsburg, 261, 262. 
 Planters, hospitality of, 57, 58. 
 Play, 18, 27. 
 
 Poles in Louisville, 105-:107. 
 Popkin, Dr., 36, 37. 
 Port Royal, 278. 
 
 Positive Doctrines of Christianity, 168. 
 Potomac, 279, 280. 
 
 Prentice, George D., 98, 99, 101, 135, 218. 
 Prentiss, U3. 
 
 Presbyterian ministers, 95. 
 Protestant Episcopal school, 139. 
 Public schools, 28. 
 Putnam, Dr. Charles, 379. 
 Putnam, William Lowell, 273. 
 
 Quincy, Josiah, 237. 
 
 Railroad lines, 96, 140. 
 
 Rand, Edw.ard S., 10. 
 
 Reading room. West Street, 143, 144. 
 
 Revelation, Book of the, 139. 
 
 Revised Book of Common Prayer, 362. 
 
 " Revue des Deux Mondes," 143. 
 
 Richards, Laura Howe, 381. 
 
 " Richmond Examiner," 216. 
 
 Richmond, fall of, 290. 
 
 Ripley, George, 122. 133, 143, 156, 380. 
 
 Ritchie, Colonel, 275. 
 
 " Riviera di Ponente," 195, 190. 
 
 Rob Roy, 344. 
 
 Robbins, Chandler, 102, 193. 
 
 Rogers, Henry B., 157, 290, 381. 
 
 Rogers, Professor, 358. 
 
 Rowan, John, 98, 99. 
 
 Rubens, pictures by, 183. 
 
 Sadler, Dr., 369. 
 
 Salisbury Cathedral spire, 173. 
 
 Salisbury Plain, 176. 
 
 Sanitary Commission, 263, 269. 
 
 Sargent, John Osborne, 30, 31, 156. 
 
 " Saturday Evening Gazette," 310, 311, 
 
 344. 
 Savoy Alps, 180. 
 Schleiermacher, 63. 
 School prizes, 22. 
 Schuylers, the, 344. 
 Scott, General, 276. ^ 
 
 Scott's poems, 1.5, 19 ; and novels, 19. 
 Sectarianism, 2.54. 
 Seligman, Mr., 370.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 429 
 
 Seward, J. L., 307. 
 
 Seward, Williiiin Henry, 232, 276, 277. 
 
 Shaokford, Mr., 151. 
 
 Sliakespeare, 20. 
 
 "Shark," 13G. 
 
 Simmons, George F., 169, 223. 
 
 Slade, 232. 
 
 Slave power, The, 246, 277. 
 
 Slavery in Kentucky, 78, 79, 98 ; aCected 
 
 by cotton-growing, 1!>4«; Southern ideas 
 
 about, 210 ; protest against, 226. 
 Smith, Bishop, 102. 
 Smith, Goldwin, 370. 
 Smith, Dr. Nathan, 81. 
 Social experiments, 139. 
 Socialism, 184, 185. 
 Society, redemption of, 138. 
 Soliier, Edward D. , 44, 45. 
 Soldiers, at Washington, 278. 
 Solms, Prince de, 251. 
 " South-side View of Slavery," 229, 047. 
 Sparks, Jared, 10. 
 Spears, R., 38.5. 
 Speed, James, 218, 244. 
 Speed, John, 70-79, 217. 244, 391. 
 Speed, Joshua, 77, 78, 218, 341. 
 Speed, Mrs. and Martha, Mary and 
 
 Eliza, Philip and Emma, 340. 
 Spurgeon, 372. 
 Spurzheim, Dr. , 47, 48. 
 St. Gothard road, 178. 
 St. Helena, Island of, 348, 349. 
 St. John, Mr., 130. 
 St. Paul, 102. 
 Stage-coach journeys and adventures, 
 
 51-01, 00 ; drivers, 52, 53. 
 Staples, N. Augu.stus, 262. 
 Stedman, Dr., 408. 
 Stetson, Caleb, 220. 
 Stetson, Mrs., 130. 
 Stevens, Thaddeus, 289. 
 Stevenson, J. Thomas, 228. 
 Stone, Mrs., 337. 
 Stonehenge, 170. 
 Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 23, 215, 247, 
 
 330. 
 Strasburg minster, 177. 
 Sttmip-speaking, 79, 80. 
 Sumner, Charles, 84, 141, 171, 233, 242, 
 
 244, 289, 3;57, 344. 
 Sumner, S. B., 130. 
 Swan, Mrs. Hepzibah [Clarke], 2, 22, 
 
 55. 
 Swedenborgian chapel, 150, 157. 
 Sycamore, 68, 69. 
 
 Taverns in the West, 57. 
 Tnylor, "Father," 156, 261. 262. 
 " Ten Great Religions," 295. 
 Texas, annexation of, 153, 154. 
 Text-books, 20, 21. 
 Theology, 39, 40, 87. 
 Tliomas, Benjamin F., 285. 
 Thompson, 161. 
 Thompson, Dr. Allen, 370. 
 Thoreau. Henry D., 188. 
 ThurEd\y Lecture, The, 255. 
 Towne, Miss Laura, 348. 
 
 Towne, Mrs., 384. 
 
 Translations, use of, 42. 
 
 Travelling in 1833, 51, 52. 
 
 Trees, in Western forests, 55 ; hostility 
 
 to, 69 ; live oaks, 347. 
 Trenton Falls, 63. 
 Trotter, Mr., 101. 
 Truths and erroBS of Orthodoxy, 256, 
 
 290. 
 Twitchell, Mr., 337.. 
 
 " Uncle Tom's Cabin," 189, 402. 
 Unitarian Association, 153, 257, 264, 
 
 207, 275 ; church, 233, 253, 254, 203 ; 
 
 doctrine, 50, 72 ; leaders, 152, 252 ; 
 
 ministers, 226, 227 ; pulpit, change 
 
 in, 257 ; society, in Louisville, 96, 97. 
 Unitarian, origin of word, 295. 
 Unitarianism, 377. 
 Unitarians, 265. 
 Uri, bay of, 178. 
 
 Vailly, M., 24. 
 Vaudyck, 1S3. 
 Vane, Sir Henry, 409. 
 Vaughan, Mr., 130. 
 Verses, 123, 120, 127 
 Victor Hugo, 172, 176. 
 Vine Street, Boston, 84. 
 Virgil, 31. 
 Virginia, 279-281. 
 Visits, 14, 25. 
 
 Walker, Amasa, 172. 
 
 Walker, Dr. James, 37, G6, 139, 140, 297, 
 
 351. 
 Waltham Abbey, 376. 
 Ward, William, 253. 
 Ware, Darwin E., 311, 366. 
 Ware, Henry, 88, 214. 
 Ware, Henry, Jr., 89, 162, 214, 263. 
 Warren Street Chapel, 162. 
 Washington, 276-278. 
 Washington, George, 215. 
 Washftigton, Smart, story of, 348. 
 Waterston, R. C, 149, 156, 157, 257. 
 Watts, Mr., 370. 
 Webster, Daniel, 216, 228. 
 Weeden, Mr., 342. 
 Weld, Theodore, 215. 
 Wells, Mrs., 328. 
 Wendte, C. W., 298. 
 Wesley, John, 215. 
 West, The, 103, 104. 
 "Western Messenger, The," 97, ir9, 
 
 115, 124-126, 162, 218, 222, 223, 251, 
 
 378, 380. 
 Westminster Abbey, 371. 
 Westminster Confession, 295. 
 Westwood, Professor. 370. 
 Whipple, Edwin P., 358. 
 " White-capt Waves," 385. 
 White Mountain Notch, 7. 
 " White Tr,acts," 209. 
 Whitman, Bernard, 67, 96. 
 Whitman, Colonel, 341. 
 Whitsund.ay, 233. 
 Whittier, John G., 221, 338,
 
 430 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Wicksteed, Mr. and Mrs. Philip, 371. 
 Wilder, Dr., 135. 
 Wilson, Henry, 244, 248, 277. 
 Winkley, S. H., 257. 
 Winslovv, B. P., 187. 
 Winthrop, John, 88. 
 Winthrop, Robert Charles, 84. 
 Woman suffrage, 324-326, 330 ; associa- 
 tion, 337. 
 
 Woman, admission of, to college, 302. 
 WoodhuU, Mrs., party of, 32G. 
 World, end of, prophesied, 139. 
 
 Yale College, 294. 
 Yandell, Dr., 135. 
 
 Zug, lake of, 177. 
 Zurich, university of, 338.
 
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