But now, at once, the crown of earthly trial- "Calm-fronted, staunch, expectant, and unshaken, The grave no victory has, and death no sting." Unmarked by the great hurrying, bustling world, unnoted save by those among whom lay his cherished life-work, the lesson he teaches is but the old, old precept, voiced first by the kingly preacher centuries ago in old Jerusalem, "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might !'' And out from the memory of this stalwart life- ---a memory dear and unfading to the loved ones whom he lived for, and the Church for which he labored-among the words of counsel and of power that it speaks to all, come these for a testimony as to his own efforts and for the strengthening of his brethren : Only as we catch the spirit of our faith and drinking in bravery and self-denial and consecration from Christ, and from every heroic example of effort and sacrifice in the Present or the Past, can we be true to ourselves or the demands of our position, or help to make Universalism the power of spiritual quickening it must become if it is to do anything to save the world." CHAPTER XIII. "Our duty is not all done nor is our whole nature ministered to by any mere moral fidelity, however exact, or any philanthrophic service, however thoughtful. It is answered only, as the whole being is pervaded with a sense of God, and all life is made a loving offering to him." Our New Departure. RECORDED words are the best photographs of dead actions. The thoughts that breathe and words that burn," as they linger in the minds of men, outlast in permanence the monumental brass or marble, however rich in sculpture or in eulogy. The gift of Cadmus is far richer than the touch of Midas. Years may have passed away, and though the hand that traced the words may be pulseless, and the voice that uttered them may be hushed, still while yet one little scrap remains upon which may be deciphered the familiar "pot-hooks and trammels" of the days gone by, memory will recall cherished visions, and the very handwriting itself becomes sacred as a dear memento. And as in harvest days, after the field is cleared, the farmer goes over the ground and gathers in the aftermath, so now closing this halting record of a manly life, I seek, before I quit the field, to recover here a stray selection, there a scrap of thought, taken from the windrows of this life-work, and bind them into a garnered sheaf of reminiscence. For we who love are misers all; hoarding this bit of remembrance or that sparkling thought, we pore over the treasures that crowd the store-houses of our hearts, or, returning again and again to the memories of the vanished years, we dig and search for still other treasures of recollection, with a craving born of tender affection, but strong and overmastering as was that avarice of the Dutch traders in the early colonial times, who, trafficking for furs for export, in an excess of avidity dug up the bodies of buried Indians to strip them of their funeral robes. I stand in presence of the past. Around me are the open pages from which throng numberless memories of the good man gone. Out from this time-stained journal springs, all fresh and buoyant with the glow of high desire, the young preacher buckling on the harness, eager for the strife: every page breathes consecration and purpose, every word speaks of work and hope; from this ponderous scrap-book filled with the gathered clippings of a life of labor, rises the stalwart man, dignified, impressive, largehearted, kindly-eyed, full of determination, strength, and effort. Here are books of record, systematic and complete, noting every sermon preached, every funeral attended, every wedding solemnized from 1835 to 1878. Here are letters speaking the honest thoughts or telling of the tender affections of husband, of father, and of friend; all speak of vigor, all of duty, all of manly love, and all unite in giving form to the force and simplicity of his own earnest words: “A worldly life rusts and darkens, but a genuine Christian life is always fresh and bright. He or she who is ripest in goodness and in nearness to heaven is always richest in childlike trust and childlike peace; and he who would live longest must grow old fastest in the manhood of goodness." Gathering into this closing chapter what seems most suited for such a close-words from the heart and pen of him whom this volume commemorates--I have sought to select such as shall indicate his manner and style, his earnestness and thought, his depth of affection, his loyalty to principle, his patience and his work. I take but little from his youthful journal. While full of vigor and purpose, these records are also redolent of immaturity; they discover, even through their glow of high desire, traces of what the world finds it so hard to condone-" the atrocious crime of being a young man," as Pitt once rarely expressed it. Here, however, is one incident which may recall to some among us the days when to be a Universalist meant disputation, wrangling, insult, and even abuse : " Sunday, Oct. 2, 1836.-Fixed for meeting. Went down to Brown's School-House (Exeter). On arriving there, found the school-house in possession of Brother Clapp, a Freewill Baptist preacher. Sent in a deputation to see if we could hold our meeting together. Response was, that he was willing to worship God with anybody. Went in and was introduced. Found him to be a man somewhat advanced in life, large and robust. It was concluded that he should improve' the morning. He selected his text from Gen. 19:17: Escape to the mountains; look not behind thee, neither stay thou in all the plain; escape to the mountains, lest thou be consumed.' But horrors! what an effort! He ranged all over creation. He went from one end of the Bible to the other, picking out here a verse, and there a part of one. He would string together a passage in Genesis, one in Revelation, another in Romans, and so go from place to place without the least regard to the connection or primitive meaning of the passages quoted. He was covertly aiming his rant against Universalism, though he called no names. He was the most ignorant man I ever saw, pretending to be a preacher. And, to say nothing more, I was completely disgusted. Feeling myself called upon to say something, I arose and remarked that I was much disappointed, and very sorry to see the spirit that had been manifested; that I supposed, when I entered the desk, that we would have the pleasure of listening to a discourse to which we could all respond with a hearty Amen! But that instead, we had been listening to a discourse aimed covertly against Universalism, and which consisted of a number of disjointed passages strung together, without any kind of regard to the sense or meaning. I had but few remarks to make, and consequently sat down. Then he got up and replied, but I told him, I had nothing more to say. So the meeting was dismissed. After luncheon, went back to meeting. I commenced the exercises; when we were singing the second hymn, Brother Clapp and several of his brethren came in. I preached from Matt. 4: 19: Follow me.' After I was through, I invited Brother Clapp to make some remarks. but he declined. I invited him to make the closing prayer. He did, and to show his charity,' he prayed that we might all feel the importance of following Jesus, and added, 'For I do verily believe, that if we don't follow Him in the right way we can't go to heaven.' How brotherly!" It was about this time that the famous Grimke sisters held their anti-slavery discussions through the North, and did much toward awakening public opinion on the question. Though South Carolinians by birth, they had early in life developed a strong repugnance to slavery, and, inheriting large slave property, immediately gave freedom to all. In the journal, I find this entry respecting them : "July 17, 1837.-Went in company with Brother Sargent to Amesbury Mills, to hear the discussion on slavery. Great crowd in the meeting-house. The discussion was between the Misses Grimke, of South Carolina, on the part of the abolitionists, and Messrs. Morrill and Page, of Amesbury, on the other side. The speaking on the side of the ladies was, with the exception of a few minutes, entirely by the younger Miss Grimke, and Mr. Page spoke wholly on his side, so that in reality there were only two disputants. It was hardly an equal match, and the lady, I thought, had the advantage." In August, 1837, was held a notable session of the Rockingham Association at Salem, N. H. The meetings were greatly enjoyed by the young preacher, and especially the conference, which was long remembered by him. Under date of Wednesday, August 30th, he wrote: "Went into the meeting-house to attend the social meeting. And oh! what a glorious time we did have there! It was the happiest season of my life. Never before did I feel so much of heaven within me-never before, in all the meetings I have attended, did I ever feel so thrilled with joy and gladness. My soul was full of bliss. Remarks were made by Brothers Whittemore and Thayer, Father Ballou, and Brothers Spear and Adams. Brothers Cilley and Thompson led in prayer. We sang-all sang and rejoiced, and wept for joy. It was a glorious, rapturous, gladsome season. Long may I remember it, and feel its influences." As I make this extract, I am involuntarily led to turn to his account of a conference held many years after (December, 1868) in Springfield, Mass., and to ask, as I here transcribe it, whether these two accounts, separated from each other by a long chain of years, do not sufficiently answer the assertion so often made that there is nothing in Universalism to lift the heart out of coldness and indifference into the very ecstasy of divine joy and glow and fervor? Of this Springfield conference he writes : "It was in the church at Springfield, Mass., at the close of the conference called to consider our conditions and wants, and what should be done to make us, more perfectly, spiritually active and effective. Only ministers were present. The holy hush of the night was about us. The profound impression of the season we had spent |