PRINCETON. N. J. % 
 
 Library of Br. A. A. Hod^e. Presented. 
 
 BX 7260 .H28 H38 1863 
 Hawes, Louisa Fisher, d. 
 1867. 
 
 Memoir of the Rev. Erskine 
 
 J w^wp.c; - 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2014 
 
 https://archive.org/details/memoirofreverskiOOhawe 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 OF THB 
 
 Rev. ERSKINE J. HA WES, 
 
 JPastot of tje CongrcBalional ffiftuttfj, yijimoutS, Conn. 
 
 HIS MOTHER. 
 
 ISTEW YORK: 
 ROBERT CARTER AND BROTHERS, 
 
 No. 680 BROADWAY. 
 
 1863. 
 
UTew York: 
 20 North ■ffilUam Street. 
 
THE FATHER OF THE DECEASED, 
 
 TO WHOM, UNDER GOD, WAS MAINLY OWING WHATEVER OP 
 EXCELLENCE HE POSSESSED, 
 
 as a frtatfijr of tfit (Ko«ptI, 
 TO THE PEOPLE WHOM HE LOVED, 
 
 AND 
 
 AMONG WHOM HE 80 HAPPILY AND USEFULLY EXERCISED 
 HIS BRIEF MINISTRY, 
 
 Tills ITlemoIr 
 
 IS AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 BIRTH AND INCIDENTS OF CHILDHOOD 9 
 
 CHAPTER n. 
 
 ENTERS THE GRAMMAR SCHOOL IN THE SPRING OF 1837 — INCI- 
 DENTS OF LIFE, DEVELOPMENT OF TALENTS, AND ATTAINMENTS 
 FOR THE NEXT SEVEN TE.\R8 25 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 PREVENTED FROM ENTERING COLLEGE BY THE STATE OP HIS HEALTH 
 
 LIFE ON A FARM — SIX MONTHS IN WILLI8T0N ACADEMY 47 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 RELIGIOUS TRAINING PROFESSION OF RELIGION — COLLEGE LIFE — 
 
 YEAR IN TEACHING 67 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THEOLOGICAL STUDIES — CONFLICT LICENSE — GRADUATES AT AND- 
 
 OVER — ENTERS ON A FOURTH YEAR AT NEW ELAVEN 83 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 CALL TO GREENFIELD PREAOireS AT FALMOUTH WESTERN TOUR. . 95 
 
6 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CALL AND SETTLEMENT AT PLYMOUTH LETTERS HOME DURING A 
 
 PERIOD OF RELIGIOUS INTEREST AMONG HIS PEOPLE 113 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 BRIEF NOTICES OF HIS MINISTRY BY OTHERS CHARACTERISTICS 
 
 HIS PREACHING 137 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 LAST VISIT HOME LAST MEETING AMONG HIS PEOPLE 165 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 FATAL ACCIDENT CLOSING SCENES 167 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 BRIEF NOTICE OF FIRST MEETING BY HIS BEREAVED PEOPLE — LET- 
 TERS OF CONDOLENCE — EXTRACT OF REPORT OF CHURCH — 
 SERMONS • IS*^ 
 
NOTICE. 
 
 A mother's love, perlia2)s a mother's parti- 
 ality, has prepared, and now gives to the pub- 
 lic, this memoir of a deceased son. 
 
 The father has had doubts whether there 
 were incidents in his life of sufficient interest 
 to justify adding another to the numerous 
 volumes of the same general character, already 
 before the public. He felt the same doubts 
 in regard to the memoir of his daughter, Mrs. 
 Mary E. Van Lennep. He was happily disap- 
 pointed then, and hopes he may be now. It 
 has greatly mitigated the bitterness of bereave- 
 ment in the loss of the daughter, to believe, as 
 he is constrained to believe, that she did her 
 work for good in the world, by her early death. 
 Her memoir has been widely read, and has 
 been of great use to many whom she could 
 never have reached by any other influence. 
 
8 
 
 NOTICE. 
 
 And should this prove true in any good de- 
 gree in regard to the memoir of the son, it 
 would lighten much a sorrow which the lapse 
 of time has but little relieved, and cheer a path 
 from which the last light has been struck out. 
 It was natural for the parents to desire, that 
 brother and sister, so closely related in life 
 and who were called away from their spheres 
 of usefulness in the morning of their days, and 
 in circumstances so affecting, should be asso- 
 ciated with each other in a brief memoir, 
 which should preserve and endear their memo- 
 ries for a time among their friends, and add 
 something to their influence for good, when, 
 like all earthly things, their names will be for- 
 gotten. 
 
 So let it be, since the hearts that loved them 
 best, are consoled in the sweet hope that their 
 names are found in the Lamb's book of life. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 BIETH AND INCIDENTS OF CHILDHOOD. 
 
 . Erskine Joel Hawes, tlie third son and the 
 sixth and last child of the Rev. Joel Hawes, 
 D. D., of Hartford, Connecticut, and of Louisa, 
 his wife, was born July 23d, 1828, and died 
 July 8th, 1860. 
 
 Of the six children just alluded to, four sleep 
 with him, in the same enclosure, in the north 
 burying ground in Hartford, among the people 
 of his father's charge. 
 
 One,* the second, sleeps far away " among 
 the Moslem dead." There, on the banks of 
 the village-bordered and beautiful Bosj^horus, 
 the remains of this lovely young Christian rest, 
 in hope of the resurrection of the just.f 
 
 * Mrs. Mary E. Van Lennep. 
 2 
 
 t Evangelist. 
 
10 
 
 ERSKINE J. HA WES. 
 
 As the subject of this memoii' was closing 
 his eyes upon earth, he seemed to catch a 
 glimpse of the glorious "prospects" beyond. 
 As they opened on the other side, is there not 
 reason to believe it was to behold the vision 
 realized. And amid that innumerable throng, 
 would not this loved and sainted one, who had la- 
 bored and prayed while here on earth, for the sal- 
 vation of this now redeemed brother, be among 
 the fii-st to welcome him to that blest assembly ? 
 
 The eldest of the six, Louisa,* died at the age 
 of four years and one month — -a, sweet bud of 
 promise, and having something more than sim- 
 ply being a " little child " to entitle her to a 
 place among those of whom the Saviour has 
 said, "of such is the kingdom of heaven." 
 And was she not there, also — once a little lamb, 
 carried in the Saviom-'s bosom, but now ma- 
 tured and shining in the beauty of holiness — 
 was she not there to welcome the brother 
 whom she had never seen on earth, to listen to 
 
 * " LoiiSA, My First-Bobs." — S. S. Union ; Philadelphia. 
 
CHILDHOOD. 
 
 11 
 
 the hallelujahs of heaven, as the plaudit ^'■well 
 done " was heard from the lips of the Master, 
 welcoming the young disciple to the presence 
 and joy of his Lord. 
 
 After the birth of Erskine, his mother was 
 visited with severe and protracted illness, and 
 the little boy was removed from home and 
 placed where he could have that nourishment 
 which the state of his mother's health prevent- 
 ed her from aifording him. 
 
 At the age of one year and three months he 
 was returned home. His mother had seldom 
 seen him while absent, and he looked upon her 
 as a stranger. In vain she attempted to attach 
 the little boy to herself! The dissimilarity in 
 age and appearance between herself and his 
 foster-mother added greatly to the difficulty of 
 doing this. Whenever she put him down on 
 the carpet, he would make for a table on the 
 further side of the room, and, creeping under, 
 would stretch up his little neck so as to hide 
 his face behind the drop-leaf, and would sit 
 there like a timid and frightened dove, until 
 
12 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAAVES. 
 
 drawn from his Mding-place by tlie sound of 
 his father's voice ; he being the only adult in 
 the family who was not a stranger to him. 
 
 It was a pitiful sound to hear his moanings 
 for his foster-mother. The eagei'ness with 
 which he would watch the door as it opened, 
 and the look of disapi^ointment that would 
 come over his young face, on not seeing the 
 loved and longed-for one enter, told, more for- 
 cibly than words could have done, the heart- 
 sickness within. At length this gradually 
 wore away, but not without leaving its traces 
 upon his character. It was, doubtless, owing 
 to these frequent disappointments at this early 
 age that he had so little of the element of 
 hopefulness to cheer him through life. It also 
 left its impress upon the countenance. A 
 shade of melancholy was often observable, al- 
 ternating with the smiles, in his most joyous 
 moods. A little brother, who was nearly four 
 years old at the time he was brought home, 
 and whose death occurred one year and four 
 months from that time, was almost constantly 
 
CHILDHOOD. 
 
 13 
 
 in school, as was also an elder and only sister, 
 so that tlie little fellow was dependent almost 
 entirely, at first, on his mother for occupation 
 and amusement. When he became older — ■ 
 could talk, and run about by himself on the 
 premises, it was soon apparent that he had a 
 mind of very great activity, and also very fruit- 
 ful in contriving amusements for himself, some 
 of which were not free from mischief. A nest 
 of kittens in the wood-house had to be watched 
 very carefully, lest he should make too free 
 use of them for playthings. . One morning, his 
 mother heard him trundling his little wheel- 
 barrow with great swiftness over the flagging 
 in the back-yard. On looking out, she saw the 
 little things flying out on each side, in conse- 
 quence of the heavy jolting over the stones, 
 and that he was picking them up and throwing 
 them in again. Calling out to him, she ex- 
 claimed, " What are you doing ? " He replied, 
 " I only giving kitties an airing ; " probably in 
 imitation of the "airing" to which he had been 
 accustomed in his own little carnage. 
 
14 
 
 ERSKIXE J. HAWES. 
 
 Some time after this, his mother on seeing 
 him enter the wood-house, followed as soon as 
 she conveniently could, to see what he was do- 
 ing there. The place where the little brood 
 was, had been boarded up, so that he could not 
 reach them. He had contrived to climb over, 
 and finding that he could not climb back 
 again with a kitten in his hands, he had tied 
 a string around the neck of one, the other end 
 of which he had fastened to the belt around 
 his waist. With his prize, he had just touched 
 the floor as his mother reached him; but the 
 string having caught on a nail, the little thing 
 hung dangling by its neck, and would soon 
 have perished if she had not been by to rescue 
 it. He had been made to understand that it 
 would hurt the little things to throw them 
 down upon the floor, and he had contrived 
 this method to get one over without hurting it. 
 
 But though he would "not hm-t the little 
 kitty," yet the haste he made in attempting 
 to disengage the one in the string, and his 
 frightened look, as his mother approached. 
 
CHILDHOOD. 
 
 15 
 
 told clearly that lie was doing something 
 which he knew she would not like to have 
 him do. He knew also that the boards had 
 been put there for the purpose of keeping 
 him from them. 
 
 Another experiment with the kittens, and 
 we will dismiss them, though much sooner than 
 he did his interest in them, and his endeavors 
 to amuse himself with them. 
 
 When the little things had grown, and be- 
 come strong enough to protect themselves, 
 " with the pins in their feet," they were taken 
 from their place of confinement, and permitted 
 to run about freely. 
 
 One day when the little boy had been miss- 
 ing for a short time, search being made for 
 him, he was found by the sink, in the kitchen. 
 As his mother approached he stood perfectly, 
 still, looking very demurely into a kettle, from 
 which the steam was rising. His mother per- 
 ceived that water was dripping from the bot- 
 tom of "his clothes. On going round to ascer- 
 tain the cause, she found that he was holding a 
 
16 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAAVES. 
 
 little kitten by the neck, all dripping wet, and 
 very closely down by liis side, to prevent her 
 seeing it. Instantly tke truth flashed upon her 
 mind, and plunging her hand into the water 
 to ascertain its heat, she exclaimed, "what 
 have you been doing ?" 
 
 " I only been giving kitty a bath," was the 
 reply. 
 
 He had been made familiar with the oper- 
 ation of the bath on his own person, but of the 
 ejffects of water, heated above a particular 
 point, he had no knowledge. Fortunately, the 
 heat was not sufficient to do any harm in the 
 present case, but the attempt that he made, to 
 hide the kitten from his mother, showed that 
 he felt he was doing something which she 
 would think was wrong. 
 
 At this time he had never been burned, so 
 that he had no knowledge of the effects of fire, 
 except of its warmth, as was soon ascertained. 
 
 A few days after the affair of the bath, an 
 exceedingly bright coal, surrounded by some 
 very white ashes, on the parlor hearth, attract- 
 
CHILDHOOD. 
 
 17 
 
 ed Ws attention. Suddenly lie darted towards 
 it, and before his mother could prevent, had 
 seized it between his thumb and finger. In- 
 stantly dropping it, he exclaimed, " O, I warm 
 my thumb,^ "I warm my thumb," his tone 
 and look affording abundant evidence of the 
 torture he was then enduring. He might have 
 taken the shining thing for a star, having once 
 earnestly begged his mother to get him 
 one. 
 
 That scene is still fresh in memory. It 
 was in the autumn, the season when the bright 
 star known as Capella shone conspicuously in 
 the North East ; just then, at the hour for his 
 retiring. He had preceded his mother, and 
 when, she reached him, was standing by a 
 north window at the head of the stairs, gazing 
 intently at the brilliant object. Pointing to- 
 wards it, he exclaimed, " Mother, do get a lad- 
 der and climb up there" — and " Tare the world 
 down" — do "Get me that star." There cer- 
 tainly was a striking resemblance between the 
 
 coal, shining amidst its pearly surroundings, 
 2* 
 
18 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 and that particular star — there was also some- 
 thiiig in his look and manner, as he darted for- 
 ward to get it, which seemed to say, "Now 
 I've got you." 
 
 But whatever might be true in regard to 
 this, the burn proved a very useful lesson. It, 
 no doubt, saved him from a more dangerous 
 experiment with that destructive element. 
 
 These facts, although unimportant in them- 
 selves, are introduced as specimens of numer- 
 ous others 'of a like kind, to show that it re- 
 quired no small amount of patient and perse- 
 vering effort, and no little ingenuity, to furnish 
 suitable occupation for such an active, busy lit- 
 tle being. 
 
 When he was three years and nine months 
 old, his father went abroad and was absent 
 several months. Thinking to cheer him, on 
 the reception of each letter, his mother showed 
 him the name at the bottom for him to kiss. 
 At length, after repeated acts of the kind, he 
 could bear it no longer Holding the letter 
 in his hand, with that emphasis of tone and 
 
CHILDHOOD. 
 
 19 
 
 manner -wliicli only real earnestness can give, 
 he exclaimed, " I don't want any more paper 
 papa^ I want my own papa ; why don't he 
 come home f " Of com-se the practice was dis- 
 continued. 
 
 The little boy had now become tenderly at- 
 tached to his mother. There was also another 
 source of comfort left to cheer him in the ab- 
 sence of the one whom noio he loved best of 
 all. This was the sister spoken of in the com- 
 mencement of this memoir. She was now ten 
 years old, and it was her delight to aid her 
 mother in the care of the little boy. The long 
 summer days were never too long for this. 
 The " sunshine and fair earth " were made to 
 contribute to the furtherance of her plans. 
 They were the capital, the store-house, fi-om 
 which she drew her resources. With her little 
 brother she would roam over the fields and 
 groves, listening to the song of the birds, or 
 the murmur of the waterfall, uniting her own 
 sweet voice with the ever-varying cadences of 
 nature. A pebble, a clump of moss, a flower, or 
 
20 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 even a variegated leaf, were to lier far riclier 
 sources of enjoyinent than the most costly 
 toy. 
 
 It was, doubtless, owing to the bent given 
 to his mind, at this early formative period, 
 that he ever after had such a high appreciation 
 of the beauties of nature. As he advanced in 
 life, his stores of pebbles and shells, and min- 
 erals and fossils, were treasured with the great- 
 est care. One of the last things his sister did 
 for him was to gather chalcedony for his cab- 
 inet among the rocks on the mountains of Asia 
 Minor, near Smyrna, and pebbles and shells 
 from the shores of the Euxine and the Mar- 
 mora. 
 
 He had a fine voice, and his sister delighted 
 in uniting it with her own in songs and hymns 
 suited to his tender age. 
 
 He early discovered a fondness for the pen- 
 cil, and would take sketches from the objects 
 around him with considerable accuracy. 
 
 When quite young his father took him to 
 Saybrook. On his return home his voice was 
 
CHILDHOOD. 
 
 21 
 
 heard calling for his mother. On finding her, 
 he threw his cap on the sofa and taking from 
 the crown a pencil sketch said, " There, moth- 
 er, there is the meeting-house Pa preached in," 
 — then another, " That is the house we stayed 
 in." And the meeting-house and parsonage 
 at Saybrook were recognized at once. A third 
 which he produced was somewhat remarkable 
 for a boy of his tender years. It was a good, 
 if not accurate outline of the opening of Con- 
 necticut river into the Sound, with the landing 
 at Say brook, and Lyme in the distance. As 
 his mother could not accompany them, he had 
 made a special effort to show her how it looked 
 there. 
 
 At a suitable age he was furnished with a 
 drawing-master, and made fair progress in the 
 art. Had he travelled abroad, as he hoped 
 and expected to do, he would have found it an 
 invaluable accomplishment. It often furnished 
 him with pleasant occupation, in the absence 
 of books and other things, when unexpectedly 
 detained for a half-holir on a journey, or from 
 
22 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 other causes deprived for a short time of " any- 
 thing to doP With his pencil and a stray leaf 
 from his pocket-book he would sketch some- 
 thing from memory, if there, was no object of 
 interest within sight. But, to return to earlier 
 years. 
 
 At the age of five years he was sent to 
 school. But, here, unfortunately, the method 
 of instruction was not simple enough for his 
 childish mind. Particularly was this true in 
 regard to Arithmetic. His mother was not 
 aware that this study had been given him 
 until after several months, in which he had 
 endeavored, though in vain, to understand its 
 mysteries. At length, he asked her one day 
 what it meant, "to cari^y one for every ten;'''' and 
 she found that long sums had been given him 
 with this single direction, to '■^ add u])^ and 
 carry one for every ten^ At this time he con- 
 tracted a distaste for Arithmetic, which was a 
 disadvantage to him through life. But, al- 
 though it was not a study to his taste, yet 
 when it was taken up in a more intelligent 
 
CHILDHOOD. 
 
 23 
 
 manner in later years, lie proved himself no 
 dolt in that branch of knowledge. 
 
 Geometry was little more- than a pastime 
 with him. This was a study just adapted to 
 the character of his mind, which, when search- 
 ing for proof in any case, never could rest sat- 
 isfied with anything short of certainty. 
 
 At the time of his entering college, it had 
 but just been added to the list of studies in 
 the preparatory course ; he was, therefore, 
 obliged to take it up alone at home, a little 
 previous to his entrance. 
 
 His mother recalls with pleasure the delight 
 he experienced, in the satisfactory nature of its 
 demonstrations, in which he often called on 
 her to participate. 
 
 The year after leaving college he had a very 
 fine class in Geometry in the high school. His 
 pupils will not readily forget the charm he 
 threw around their recitations. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 ENTERS THE GEAMIVIAR SCHOOL IN THE SPRING OF 
 1837. — INCIDENTS OF LIFE, DEVELOPMENT OF 
 TALENTS, AND ATTAINMENTS FOR THE NEXT 
 SEVEN TEARS. 
 
 Sometime during his tenth year, lie was 
 placed in the grammar school and commenced 
 his classical studies. In these, and also the 
 common English branches, he was a fair 
 scholar; but in English composition he ex- 
 celled. It was not unusual for him to bring 
 his theme, nicely folded, to his mother, and ask 
 her to lay it up ; assigning as a reason that his 
 teacher had told him to preserve it, as he 
 might wish to look at it, at some future time. 
 
 Those early school-days furnish many a 
 grateful reminiscence to the mother of the 
 orderly conduct of her son, of his fidelity in 
 study, of his careful observance of the rules of 
 the school, and of the course he took whenever 
 
26 
 
 ERSKINE J, HAWES. 
 
 he had violated one. A single specimen, and 
 the earliest remembered, shall be cited here, 
 which may serve for every instance of the 
 kind during the entire period of his school- 
 days. 
 
 On passing through the kitchen, one morn- 
 ing, his mother found him sitting by the fire, 
 apparently in deep thought and looking very 
 sober. On her return he was still there. Per- 
 ceiving him in trouble, she lingered a little, to 
 see if he would speak to her about it. Look- 
 ing up, he said, " Mother, I want to ask your 
 advice." 
 
 " Well, my son, about what ? " 
 
 "I have violated one of the rules of the 
 school." 
 
 The mother's heart beat rather quicker than 
 usual, but she waited in silence to hear his ac- 
 count of the matter, which was this : — 
 
 " As I was going to the post-office this morn- 
 ing, for father, I felt a snow-ball come pat into 
 the back of my neck. Quick as thought, I 
 caught up another, and sent it back. Just then 
 
BOYHOOD. 
 
 27 
 
 I saw Mr. (the principal of the school) 
 
 at a little distance. He was not looking at me 
 then, but I think he must have seen me." 
 
 "Well, what if he did? What harm in 
 that ? " 
 
 " He has made it a rule that the boys shall 
 not snow-ball in the street." 
 
 " Then you have clearly violated that rule." 
 
 "What had I better do?" 
 
 " What had you thought of doing, my son?" 
 
 " I thought I would go early, and tell Mr. 
 about it, and ask him to excuse me." 
 
 This was done. At noon Erskine returned, 
 with a bright face, and said to his mother, " It 
 
 was well I went. IVIr. saw me. He said 
 
 he should certainly have called me up before 
 the school; but that now he should excuse 
 me." 
 
 This little incident illustrates a prominent 
 feature in his character — the readiness and pro- 
 priety with which he made acknowledgment of 
 any offense or wrong to those to whom he 
 thought such acknowledgment due. To some 
 
28 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 this may appear a small matter; but, consti- 
 tuted as he was — modest, diffident, timid to an 
 extreme — it required an amount of courage far 
 greater than would be necessary in one differ- 
 ently constituted. 
 
 This diffidence was often a source of real suf- 
 fering to him. A single instance shall serve 
 for many others. 
 
 A lady, with whom he boarded, on his first 
 settlement in the ministry, speaking to him one 
 day of the frost, said she thought a little piece 
 written by Miss Gould, commencing, 
 
 " The Frost looked forth, one clear, cold night," 
 
 was the prettiest thing of the kind she had 
 ever seen. He looked up, with a peculiar 
 smile, and said, " / detest itP To her look of 
 inquiry he said, " It was the first piece I ever 
 undertook to speak in public. I was five or 
 six years old. My mother had taken great 
 pains to help me prepare to say it well. I had 
 learned it perfectly. I came forward on the 
 stage at the school exhibition, made my bow, 
 
BOYHOOD. 29 
 
 said one line, and then, thinking how many eyes 
 were upon me, I burst into tears and could 
 go no further. With the lines I always connect 
 that mortifying scene and what I then suffered." 
 
 From that time, not only every allusion to 
 the lines, but also to the freaks of that element, 
 was carefully avoided. Even the delicate 
 tracery on the window-pane, which had afford- 
 ed him so much delight, now became to him so 
 many instruments of tortare. 
 
 This diffidence cost him many a hard strug- 
 gle to overcome ; but by the time he entered 
 his teens he had so far conquered it as not only 
 to speak with ease to himself, but to do this in 
 a piece of his own composing. His mother has 
 a vivid recollection of the scene, as he came 
 forward upon the stage, with a manly air, but 
 with a blanched cheek, at the public exhibition 
 of the grammar school. The subject was one 
 every way suited to his taste — ^" Ancient 
 Ruins" — at the close of which a few lines, 
 quoted from Macauley's " Pompeii," were pro- 
 nounced with decided effect. 
 
30 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 A little incident of his school-days may be 
 here related, on account of its moral bearing 
 upon his character. 
 
 Soon after he entered the grammar school, a 
 fair was announced to be held in one of the 
 public halls in the city. Erskine had the prom- 
 ise of attending, if he would get all his lessons. 
 
 When the day came, his mother handed him 
 the note containing the request to the teacher 
 to excuse him for a part of the afternoon. In- 
 stead of taking it, he said, " Mother, I can't go 
 to the fair." 
 
 "What is the reason, my son? Have you 
 not got your lessons ? " 
 
 " Yes, ma'am," but I forgot to put down my 
 number' four. My teacher has made it a rule 
 that, if the boys do not put down their num- 
 bers, they shall be punished just the same as if 
 they had not got their lessons. I have got to 
 stay till school is out, and an hour after." Here 
 the little fellow broke down. Up to this 
 point he had tried to be very manly, but he 
 could stand it no longer. 
 
BOYHOOD. 
 
 31 
 
 Knowing that lier son recited to an under- 
 teaclier, his mother wrote a note to the princi- 
 pal of the school, requesting him to remit a 
 part of the penalty for that afternoon, and let 
 her son take it at some other time, that he 
 might have half an hour for the fair. 
 
 On going to the hall, his mother saw the 
 little boy, with the principal of the school, 
 ascending the same staircase with herself. On 
 entering, he made his way through the crowd, 
 to his mother, and, casting a very grateful look 
 back at the principal, said, " He said I might 
 come." 
 
 The principal immediately stepped forward, 
 and said, aside, to the mother, that the rule was 
 a very strange one ; that he knew nothing of it 
 until that afternoon ; he should see that it was 
 righted ; " after a boy had got his lessons per- 
 fectly, he should not be punished for not giv- 
 ing himself credit for it." 
 
 The sunshine in the little boy's sky was 
 brighter, that afternoon, for the shower that 
 had preceded it. Instead of only the one hour 
 
82 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 wMcli his mother had promised him, he had 
 the whole afternoon, . 
 
 He learned one lesson at that time, more 
 effectually than he could ever have been taught 
 it by oral precept — that, when a good was 
 promised him on certain conditions, it did make 
 a difference whether he complied with those con- 
 ditions or not, present appearances to the con- 
 trary, notwithstanding. True, he could not 
 reason in this manner in so many words ; but 
 the moral effect was the same on his character. 
 He had that intuitive sense of right which is 
 common to children who are not misled by 
 false principles in their training. 
 
 On entering the grammar school he was 
 thrown into the society of boys, most of whom 
 were older than himself, and among them some 
 whose moral training had been very different 
 from his own. Their influence over him was 
 decidedly bad, particularly in this respect : — 
 they made an imi:)ression on his mind that it 
 was not manly to ask mother's permission to 
 unite with them in certain things, of which he 
 
BOYHOOD. 
 
 88 
 
 doubted her approval. At first, the mischief 
 was so slight as to be hardly perceptible. 
 When it was at length discovered, it had taken 
 such firm hold of his too yielding nature, as to 
 require much vigilant and patient effort before 
 it could be entirely eradicated. The one thing 
 which made it so hard for the little fellow to 
 free himself from the influence of the bad boys, 
 was the fear of their ridicule. 
 
 His sister was at this time spending the 
 winter at New Haven. When informed by 
 her mother that her brother was becoming less 
 docile and confiding than formerly, she imme- 
 diately united her eftorts, with those of her 
 mother's, for the correction of the evil. 
 
 A specimen or two of her letters will show 
 her happy and winning way with him, not only 
 at this time, but during all the time from his 
 early childhood, until she left him at the age 
 of fifteen for her eastern home : 
 
 "New Haven, November 1, 1838. 
 
 "I could not pass you by, my dear little 
 
 brother, but, when writing to all the others, I 
 3 
 
34 
 
 ERSKIiNE J. 
 
 H A W E S . 
 
 must send you a letter also. I think of you 
 very often, and when Wednesday afternoon 
 comes, I say, 'now Erskine has got to speak, 
 and I fear he will be frightened.' You have 
 
 to go to school alone, now that Mr. G is 
 
 gone, but 1 hope you will be a very good boy 
 and study your lessons hard. 
 
 " You must write to sister, my dear brother, 
 for you know how glad she would be to re- 
 ceive a letter from you. Have you written any 
 more compositions? "When you write to me, 
 tell me what subjects you have written about. 
 
 " Have you drawn any more Tm'ks, dancing ? 
 I do not draw much now, but sometimes I take 
 my pencil and sketch a little. You draw much 
 more than I do, and will get along better than 
 myself. I shall expect to see many pretty 
 pictures when I return home — pretty land- 
 scapes, for I think you draw those better than 
 you do figures or flowers.* 
 
 * When a little further advanced, he sketched natural scenery 
 with a very bold and free hand, but he particularly excelled in 
 drawing animals. 
 
BO YU001> . 
 
 85 
 
 " I play much upon tlie piano, and we have 
 some very fine music, and I often wish I could 
 hear your sweet voice ; but when I return we 
 can again sing together many charming pieces. 
 
 " I wonder whether you have grown any — 
 have become more like a man, and can under- 
 stand your lessons better. I hope my dear 
 brother is improving very fast in becoming 
 good, and kind, and amiable. I see here some 
 sweet little boys, who are very obliging and 
 kind, and every one thinks well of them. My 
 dear brother must try to be obliging and kind, 
 and make every one feel pleasantly around 
 him. This is the way to live happily in the 
 world." 
 
 Again she writes, February 26th : 
 " And now, my dear brother, I sit down to 
 thank you for your sweet note. It is becom- 
 ing warmer, so that now you can walk out and 
 enjoy the fresh air. Spring, with its soft winds 
 and sweet flowers will soon be here, and then 
 I shall be at home to walk with you. What 
 nice times we shall have ! I shall have many 
 
36 ERSKINE J. HA WES. 
 
 things to tell you about wliat I have seen and 
 lieard, and you will have much to tell me. 
 When I come home I sliall expect to find you 
 quite a good Latin scholar. You must study 
 hard, then you will understand very fast. But, 
 my dear brother, when you are filling your 
 mind with useful knowledge, you must take 
 care that the tall weeds do not grow in your 
 heart. Do you know what this means ? The 
 tall weeds are the bad, wicked feelings, and 
 you must try to pull them out and have good, 
 pleasant things in your heart. 
 
 " From your affectionate and only sister, 
 
 Maky." 
 
 beief sketch of the amusements and occu- 
 pations of his eakly years. 
 These were such as are common to children 
 reared in the city, with very few of those fine 
 invigorating sports, with which children in the 
 country are favored, and which contribute so 
 much to health and hardihood of constitu- 
 tion. Instead of the haystacks to tumble over 
 
BOYHOOD. 
 
 3Y 
 
 in tlie fresh mown fields, and the lambs to frisk 
 about with in the green pastures, he had only 
 the block-house, and the tiny animals in Noah's 
 Ark, with other little et ceteras^ on the parlor 
 carpet ; and the miniature boat, with a tub of 
 water for his i^c/, in an outer room. Instead 
 of the long range of hard, smooth crust on the 
 hill side, and the broad, strong sled, on which 
 an elder brother or sister could sit and hold 
 him in safety, as it glided swiftly down the 
 smooth surface away into the valley, any little 
 garden slope, on which his gaily painted craft 
 could slide for a few yards, must serve for his 
 sled ride in the city. Then he had none of 
 those long jolting rides in the hay-cart, for 
 which his smooth cushioned drives in a city , 
 carriage were but a poor substitute. 
 
 But such recreations as the parents could 
 command were furnished in no stinted meas- 
 ure. 
 
 His ball, kite, and fishing rod, in summer, 
 and the building of his snow forts and houses, 
 to be demolished with missiles of the same ma- 
 
38 
 
 ERSKINE J. HA WES. 
 
 terial, with Lis skating and occasional coasting, 
 in winter, served to keep hiui in sucli health as 
 to enable him to continue his studies, though 
 not as "profitably as he might have done in 
 other circumstances. 
 
 As soon as he was strong enough to handle 
 the shovel and the spade, he had the addi- 
 tional exercise of clearing the snow from the 
 walks around the house, digging over the few 
 feet of ground for garden vegetables, and keep- 
 ing these free from weeds ; he also rendered es- 
 sential aid in the care of his father's stable. 
 
 The mention of his gardening recalls vividly 
 to the mind scenes long associated in memory 
 with those early days. 
 
 He was occasionally indulged during the 
 long days in his summer vacations with an ex- 
 cursion to the Talcott Mountain, one of the 
 range forming the western boundaiy of the 
 valley of the Connecticut. This was always a 
 great event with him. The prospect from the 
 tower erected on its summit ; the smooth sheet 
 of water enclosed, almost entirely, within its 
 
BOYHOOD. 
 
 39 
 
 highy rocky embankment ; tke beautiful lawn 
 sloping down to the edge of the lake, on that 
 side left open to the view, as if to disclose its 
 peaceful resting-place within ; the small though 
 tasteful dwelling, used by the owner of the 
 grounds as a summer residence, between which 
 and the lake were fruit and forest trees inter- 
 spersed in graceful variety, with many flower- 
 ing vines and shrubs, both wild and cultivated ; 
 the deep ravines, and the eminences -from which 
 a new view was gained at every turn; all these 
 combined to form in the mind of this young 
 enthusiast, a picture little short of the Elysian 
 fields. 
 
 But it was not merely the j)icture here de- 
 scribed that was suggested to the mind, by the 
 mention of his gardening — it was something 
 more beautiful than that — it was his delicate 
 remembrance of his mother. Those clumps of 
 wild columbine, with their gay flowers of scar- 
 let and yellow, occupying any little spare nook 
 in a corner of his garden beds, and the field 
 violets, which even now continue to bloom 
 
40 
 
 ERSKINE J. HA WES. 
 
 among tlie grass — it was tlie memory of some- 
 thing associated with these frail emblems, but 
 more imperishable than they, that was thus 
 called up before the mind. On returning at 
 one time from Ids day on the mountain, the 
 basket that had carried out his lunch was fill- 
 ed with wild flowers. Taking them out with 
 their roots firmly attached, the earth around 
 them being well saturated with water from the 
 lake, 
 
 Ihvoiiglit these home for you^ 
 
 It was this delicate expression of sympathy 
 and affection, from the son to his mother, that 
 was so suddenly called up and clothed anew 
 with life, by the mention of one of the early 
 occupations of his childhood. 
 
 It might have been owing: to the fact of his 
 mother's having been so much of the time his 
 sole companion, while his tastes and habits 
 were forming, that whenever he had any un- 
 usual enjoyment he wanted her to j^iarticipate 
 in it. Especially was this true during his 
 mountain rambles. He knew how much she 
 
BOYHOOD. 
 
 41 
 
 enjoyed fine scenery — he could not bring tliat 
 home to her, but he could the flowers — ^he 
 knew how much she loved them. In the in- 
 stance narrated, instead of cutting and tying 
 them into a bouquet as usual, he patiently dis- 
 engaged the roots, leaving enough of the soil 
 to protect them, until he could transplant them 
 into the garden at home. 
 
 As he advanced in years, and entered upon 
 a severer course of study, it became necessary 
 to furnish him with additional, and more vigor- 
 ous exercise. For this purpose, his father had 
 a work-bench erected for him in an outer room 
 in the back part of the house, and procured 
 for him a complete set of joiners' tools ; with 
 these, and material to practice upon, he soon 
 developed a fine mechanical genius. 
 
 After he had become accustomed to the use 
 of tools, he undertook a work which required 
 much artistic skill — the constructing an elec- 
 trical machine. For this, he had no pattern, 
 only the plates, description, and directions for 
 
 making, found in the Edinburgh Encyclopedia, 
 3* 
 
42 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 in his father's library. This not only furnish- 
 ed him with employment, but kept his mind 
 in a state of healthful excitement during the 
 winter of 1843-4, when he was left with his 
 mother, his father having accompanied his 
 only sister to her home in a foreign land. 
 At length all the parts were finished and nice- 
 ly adjusted to each other, and the machine 
 stood up — no inferior model of its kind. The 
 whole, with the exception of a little assistance 
 at the smithery, and the turning lathe, his own 
 workmanship. It was a powerful machine. 
 Of this he had soon a practical demonstration. 
 Having charged his jar at one time very high- 
 ly, he took the whole shock into his arm. 
 The inflammation caused by the electric fluid 
 was so great, that it was necessary to resort to 
 medical aid in order to reduce it. 
 
 The next eSort was, the constructing a 
 camera obscura. This he made use of in 
 sketching scenes near home, to send to his 
 sister abroad. These were a source of much en- 
 joyment to her ; while looking upon them, she 
 
BOYHOOD. 
 
 43 
 
 imagined herself again walking in the old fa- 
 miliar streets, or entering the houses, the doors 
 of which were standing open to receive her. 
 
 Next, a magic lantern occupied his leisure 
 hours. Then a solar micro-scope, each of which 
 displayed much skill and answered well the 
 use for which it was intended. 
 
 But his highest enjoyment was in music. 
 When he was a little boy he always had two 
 or three Jews-harps on hand ; and an JEolian 
 harp of his own constructing, showed no little 
 ingenuity. At one time, the table bell was 
 missing ; when searched for, it was found sus- 
 pended in the wood-house, with a little wheel, 
 taken from his tin cart, and a long cord at- 
 tached, so that it could be rung after the man- 
 ner of the bell that called him each morning 
 to school. Soon after entering his teens, his 
 father furnished him with a flute. In the use 
 of this long coveted instrument, he found, 
 not only much enjoyment himself, but also 
 gave much to others. One of his friends had 
 a very fine-toned violin, and an evening or two 
 
44 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 iu each week was spent in practicing together 
 some piece adapted to the two instruments. 
 As they were good performers, and their pieces 
 selected with care, the two friends made no in- 
 dijfferent music. Those strains, as they come 
 floating along down the vale of time, seem to 
 the ear of memory, like some sweet, solemn 
 requiem for the departed. But with them 
 comes also a more joyous ref min^ bringing the 
 consoling hope, that, though lost to earth, an- 
 other strain has been added to the minstrelsy of 
 the heavenly choir, another voice, to those of 
 
 " The glowing seraphs round the fhrone." 
 
 In addition to these evenings with this friend, 
 he often joined in larger circles of instrumental 
 music during the few years preceding his en- 
 tering college. In these he took great delight. 
 
 But there was one instrument, exquisitely 
 tuned, the work, not of human skill, to which 
 he resorted oftenest, and with greatest pleasure. 
 For improvement in the use of this he had 
 many facilities ; at first in the juvenile sing- 
 
BOYHOOD. 
 
 45 
 
 ing school and concert. His voice, wliicli at 
 this time was a clear, high soprano, fitted him 
 to take a prominent part in the latter, but 
 such was his diffidence, that he could seldom 
 be induced to perform a piece alone. His 
 sister had early learned to read music, and 
 when he began to use his voice in singing, she 
 could do much for its improvement. 
 
 When his voice became settled, as it did in 
 maturer age, into a deep, rich, smooth bass, he 
 took his place in the choir in his father's church. 
 He was a leader for a part of the time, at least, 
 in the college choir, and the same office was 
 assigned him in the Theological Seminary. In 
 short, wherever he was, as a pupil, a teacher, a 
 student in college, in the Theological Seminary, 
 he was always known as sympathizing deeply 
 in all musical improvements. 
 
 After his settlement in the ministry, his in- 
 terest in this divine art knew no abatement. 
 He found a very fine choir in his own church, 
 and he delighted in encouraging them by his 
 presence in their musical gatherings. 
 
46 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 One of the members of his church, in a letter 
 of condolence to his parents, speaks thus of 
 this prominent accomplishment in their youth- 
 ful pastor : 
 
 " Your dear son was an enthusiastic lover of 
 music. Often has he met at our dwelling in 
 the happy circle of the lovers of sacred song, 
 uniting with them with heartfelt pleasure and 
 delight. And when from around that sacred 
 spot where rest his precious remains, the notes 
 of that delightful song ascended on high, re- 
 sounding among the spreading branches of that 
 grove, it seemed as if his redeemed and happy 
 spirit must be hovering above, uniting in the 
 sweet harmony with heavenly rapture." 
 
 Another member of his church remarked, 
 " As I have looked at him while pouring forth 
 his rich voice, I have often been reminded of 
 a remark I once heard Mr. Hart* make of a 
 very good singer : — I love to look at him while 
 singing, and think what music he will make in 
 heaven." 
 
 ■ A former beloved pastor of that church. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 PREVENTED EiSTTEEING COLLEGE BY THE STATE 
 
 OF HIS HEALTH LIFE ON A FAEM SIX 
 
 MONTHS IN WILLISTON ACADEMY. 
 
 • At seventeen years of age lie was fitted for 
 college. He had also paid some attention to 
 the French language, and had made fair pro- 
 gress in its attainment, when his health failed, 
 and he was obliged to discontinue his studies 
 for a time. 
 
 His classmates entered college, and he was 
 left behind. This was a great trial to him at 
 the time, but it was afterward viewed by him 
 in a very different light. When, at the age of 
 nineteen, he did enter, he felt that he had a 
 much better appreciation of the privileges of 
 a collegiate course, and that he was qualified 
 to make a much better use of those privileges, 
 than if he had entered at an earlier period. 
 
 The summer of 1845 was spent upon a farm 
 
48 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 in the country. Before entering upon his new 
 employment, he procured a treatise on agricul- 
 ture, and studied it thoroughly. He knew that he 
 was entirely ignorant of the business of farming. 
 True, he could use the shovel and the hoe, the 
 garden rake and spade ; but of the uses of the 
 field implements he knew nothing. Then, he 
 was ignorant of the nature of soils, of the best 
 manner of making them productive, in short, 
 of everything relating to the cultivation of a 
 farm. The knowledge he thus acquired was 
 of great use when he entered upon the practi- 
 cal part of the employment. The gentleman, 
 on whose farm he worked, said that he took 
 hold like a farmer, and that he would have 
 done as much work as his hired man, if he had 
 allowed him to do it. 
 
 The pains he took in qualifying himself for 
 his new employment, strikingly illustrates one 
 of his prominent characteristics — never to un- 
 dertake anything until he was quite sure he 
 could do it well. This he afterwards carried 
 to such an extreme, as greatly to impede his 
 
FARM LIFE. 
 
 49 
 
 usefulness, and at one time threatened to de- 
 stroy it entirely. 
 
 He had nearly concluded liis theological 
 studies, and was soon to appear before the pub- 
 lic as a candidate for the pulpit. Up to this 
 time, his father had never been able to obtain 
 from him a single extemporaneous effort. He 
 continued his theological studies for more 
 than a year after having received his license 
 to preach. He had occasionally delivered a 
 written discourse in the lecture room, had read 
 the hymns and offered the prayers, but more 
 than this, he could never be persuaded to do. 
 His father became discouraged. 
 
 On his mother's remonstrating with him on 
 his unwillingness to comply with his father's 
 w ishes, he very gravely assigned this as the 
 reason: "/ liave fuade up my mind tliat I 
 loill never do anything that I cannot do 
 weir 
 
 "Then," my son, was his mother's reply, 
 "■You may make up your mind that you will 
 never do anything. You will never certainly 
 
50 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAAVES. 
 
 know that you can do a tiling well until you 
 try, and you will never try, at tlie risk of mak- 
 ing a blunder ; so you see, tbat you will never 
 do anything." 
 
 This 8age resolution^ he found it expedient 
 to modify ; a measure for which he was after- 
 wards truly grateful, when called to off-hand, 
 extemporaneous efforts among his own people. 
 At the time of his settlement in the ministry, 
 he had acquired so much ease and readiness 
 in these, that his people regarded them as the 
 most interesting and efficient of his public per- 
 formances. 
 
 But to return to the farm. 
 
 Of his employment on the farm, he writes 
 thus to his father : 
 
 " I have been very busy, helping about hoe- 
 ing corn and potatoes, making hay, binding 
 and stacking rye, boring holes in rocks for 
 blasting, making wells, with a variety of other 
 things. Making hay is nothing but sport. But 
 borinoj holes in rocks and hoeing corn is hard 
 work. I have sometimes worked more than 
 
FARM LIFE. 
 
 51 
 
 half a day on a single rock, but tiiere is, never- 
 theless, much satisfaction in seeing the hard iron 
 rock blown to pieces with gunpowder." Of his 
 studies he writes, " I am very much pleased 
 with your suggestion about reading, and gen- 
 erally contrive to read a little every day. I am 
 studying Sallust in order to keep up my mem- 
 ory of Latin. I find my knowledge of that 
 classic is considerably refreshed by helping 
 J about his lessons. At Mr. L.'s sugges- 
 tion we have made a contract, I am to assist 
 him in his Latin, and he again is to give me a 
 few hints about farming." 
 
 Of his recreation, he writes thus to his 
 mother : 
 
 " Besides farming, there will be plenty of 
 other sport here. There are two trout brooks 
 about a mile or two out of the place, and I in- 
 tend sometime, in comjDany with J., with Mr. 
 L.'s permission, to pay them a visit. Such 
 visits, though, I suppose will be very rare, and 
 I intend they shall be. 
 
 " I hope also to visit the ' hanging hills.' I 
 
52 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 can see the range distinctly from my window, 
 and I intend, some time, to make a drawing of 
 tliem and send you." 
 
 His love of the beautiful in nature lost 
 none of its ardor while laboring on the 
 farm, Of this, his letters home gave abundant 
 proof. 
 
 To his mother : 
 
 " Since I have been here I have had many 
 pleasant rides. Last evening I had a most de- 
 lightful one. The moon was shining brightly, 
 gilding the tops of the mountains and trees. 
 The house where I stopped was situated in a 
 most romantic place, and, a few rods from it, 
 a brook ran gurgling and splashing by ; while, 
 far down in the glen, I heard for the first 
 time, the clear, protracted, silvery notes of the 
 ' whip-poor-will,' uttering that word so plainly 
 that it seemed to proceed from the human 
 voice. It was one of the most pleasant and 
 delightful spots I was ever in, and I can give 
 you but a faint description of it." 
 
 One more extract from his letters home, will 
 
AVILI.ISTON ACADEMY. 
 
 53 
 
 close the account of this, to him, so pleasant 
 and profitable a summer. 
 
 " A few days ago, I went with J., and the 
 hired man, to Pi'ospect on the mountains, to 
 gather blackberries ; and we were amply re- 
 paid, not only in the quantity of fruit we 
 gathered, but also in the fine prospect which 
 everywhere lay spread out before us. The 
 scenery wanted neither rocks nor mountains to 
 give it a sublime and bold appearance, nor 
 fields nor meadows to give it beauty, nor 
 spires, villages and country seats, to give it 
 variety, but all these combined together, 
 formed a most magnificent panorama." 
 
 In the month of September, he returned 
 home much invigorated in body and mind, and, 
 as he said, " all toughened up and ready for 
 study." 
 
 In the month of December, 1846, he entered 
 Williston Academy. This was merely an ex- 
 periment to ascertain whether he had the re- 
 quisite health to pursue a collegiate course and 
 enter upon a professional life. 
 
5-1 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 The experiment proved successful, and after 
 a six-montlis' residence, in wliicli he made many 
 friends, and gained for himself a fair reputation 
 for scholarship, and an enviable one for gen- 
 tlemanly and correct moral deportment, he re- 
 turned home. 
 
 The mountains in the vicinity of Easthamp- 
 ton furnished him with a fine opportunity of 
 indulging his taste for natural scenery. During 
 his residence there he made two excursions to 
 Mount Tom. The first, in the month of 
 December, shortly after his entrance to the 
 seminary, he thus describes in his letters 
 home : 
 
 "Last Saturday, in company with a few 
 others, I made the ascent of Mount Tom, and I 
 must tell you what an adventure I had of it. I 
 suppose you will think me very foolish and 
 venturesome ; and, I must confess, I think so 
 myself 
 
 " In the afternoon, seven of us started for the 
 mountain, one carrying a hatchet, another some 
 matches with which to build a fire on the sum- 
 
W 1 1. L I S T 0 N ACADEMY. 
 
 55 
 
 mit, for it was very cold and the wind blew 
 very hard. 
 
 ." After walking about two miles, we came to 
 the foot of the mountain. 'Now, the regular 
 way would be to go around a portion of it and 
 ascend in that way, but one of our party, for 
 the sake oT the name of it, proposed to make a 
 bold push straight up the steep side, and, as it 
 were, take the mountain by storm. This was 
 strongly objected to by some of us, but we 
 were finally influenced by the rest to make the 
 attempt. So up we went ; at one time on all 
 fours,' at another, grasping some shrub or some 
 projecting rock. The mountain was covered 
 with snow, and a crust having formed over it, 
 this gave some secui-ity to our feet. Soon the 
 party separated, each striking out a different 
 course for himself. There was a gully extend- 
 ing quite up the mountain and filled with snow. 
 I took the gully, but soon began to repent of 
 this, as the snow was quite deep, and tlie foot- 
 ing quite precarious. To add to my trouble, 
 my hands became numb, so that I could scarcely 
 
56 ERSKINE J. HA WES. 
 
 grasp anything that came in my way, and one 
 of my limbs became cramped. 
 
 " At last I had arrived to within about a hun- 
 dred feet of t^ie top, and was thinking with 
 some satisfaction that I should soon be there, 
 when, on looking around, I saw on each side, 
 two almost perpendicular barriers o:^ rock, and 
 also that the gully was filled with ice, which 
 was so slippery that I could proceed no further. 
 I must confess that I was a little frightened 
 at my situation, for I was almost exhausted. 
 After deliberating a little, I raised my voice, 
 and called as loud as I could. It was^some 
 time before I could make myself heard. The 
 party had now reached the top. At length, 
 one of them put his head over the ravine and 
 just caught a glimpse of mine. After some 
 consultation, it was decided that the only way 
 for me was to slide down on my back the same 
 way that I came, and so I did, expecting all the 
 while to have my neck broken : but after I had 
 gone some distance in this way, I began rather 
 to like the motion, until I tore my clothes, 
 
WILLISTON ACADEMY. 51 
 
 which was not quite so pleasant. In my de- 
 scent, I slid about two hundred feet, and cer- 
 tainly I never had, nor ever want to have, such 
 a slide again, Finally, I once more found my- 
 self on firm footing, and making the ascent in 
 the tracks of the others. I need not tell you 
 that I was very much wearied, and do not know 
 what I should have done, had not one of my 
 companions come to my assistance. By taking 
 hold of his hand, and grasping the rocks, and 
 now and then a tree, I at last nianaged to gain 
 the top, but so exhausted I could scarcely stand. 
 After having warmed myself by a good roaring 
 fire, and dried my wet stockings and gloves, I 
 regained my strength and spirits, and could 
 look around with infinite pleasure on the almost 
 unbounded panorama on either side of me. 
 You can not conceive what a sublime and beau- 
 tiful view it was, I could see, away off in the 
 distance, the faint though marked outline of 
 old Monadnock, many other bold mountains 
 appearing on every side. But the most inter- 
 esting part of the view was that which lay all 
 4 
 
58 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 along the winding Connecticut, which we could 
 distinctly trace almost as far as Hartford, In- 
 deed, it being a very clear day, we thought we 
 could see Hartford, away in the distance, as far 
 as the eye could reach. We could also see 
 distinctly East and West Rock in New Haven, 
 and the bold juts of the Berlin and Meriden 
 range. I need not tell you that I was the most 
 interested in the prospect which lay to the 
 south." 
 
 As the spring opened, in a letter to his 
 mother, among more important items, is this 
 little episode : — 
 
 "A few days ago, while poring over my 
 algebra, I heard the first blue-bird singing to 
 the rising sun, on a tree directly in front of 
 my window. What a thrill the first note of 
 this harbinger of spring sent through me. In 
 a moment my mind was diverted from my dry 
 lesson, and went roaming over green mea- 
 dows, and purling brooks, and up the moun- 
 tain side, and where else I cannot say. Now 
 I know just what you are thinking of, ' If 
 
WILLIS TON ACADEMY. 
 
 59 
 
 Erskine allows Ms mind to be diverted from 
 his studies by the simple song of a blue-bird, 
 lie will not accomplish much this term.' But 
 I must excuse myself by saying, the mind 
 often works better after some such diversion 
 by way of change, but it would not do to 
 have too many such diversions." 
 
 In the month of April he made a second as- 
 cent up the same mountain, but " so changed 
 was the aspect of nature, that it hardly seemed 
 like the same." 
 
 His own account of this to his mother : 
 " Last week I made a second visit to Mount 
 Tom, but the auspices under which I visited it, 
 this time, were far different from those be- 
 fore, 
 
 " The snow had all disappeared, and we made 
 the ascent by the customary path. The day was 
 very fine, and with the aid of a good glass we 
 saw many objects of interest. Right under 
 our feet, flowed the beautiful Connecticut, hav- 
 ing its smooth surface broken by the rapids at 
 Hadley Falls. We could almost look into the 
 
60 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 windows of the semlnaiy at South Hadley, 
 and see Miss Lyon surrounded by her pupils. 
 Turning our glass in the direction of Spring- 
 field, we saw distinctly' the 'flag on the United 
 States Arsenal, the cars at the depot, with 
 many other striking objects ; we could follow 
 the Connecticut almost as far as Hartford, as it 
 gracefully flowed on through its beautiful val- 
 ley. Still farther south, lay the bold Berlin and 
 Meriden mountains, and with our glass we got 
 a glimpse of Wadsworth's Tower, on the Tal- 
 cot range. But there was one thing, on which 
 I gaze^d oftenest, with intense interest — and 
 what was that ? Away as far as the eye could 
 reach, nearly on the horizon, could be seen, a 
 minute spot of light; with the aid of the 
 glass, this light spot was transformed into the 
 tapering spires of my dear old Hartford. It 
 was Hartford, undoubtedly, for I counted its 
 seven prominent steeples, and could even dis- 
 cern the dark Ejjiscopal tower. It fairly made 
 me feel homesick. Well, school closes in four 
 weeks, and then I shall find myself no more in 
 
WILLISTON ACADEMY. 61 
 
 Easthampton, but again participating in the 
 pleasures of home." 
 
 While at Easthampton, he gained some 
 knowledge of life which was of use to him 
 afterwards. As might be supposed from the 
 previous brief sketch of his character, he had 
 no relish for practical jokes, and he never 
 intended or expected to have anything to do 
 with them. But on his first entering the 
 school boarding-house, where were several 
 pupils besides himself, he got drawn into two 
 or three of these. 
 
 One of the pupils, not over scrupulous in his 
 observance of the rules of the school, and notic- 
 ing the exactness with which Erskine observed 
 them, determined to make him violate one, at 
 least, if possible. He soon found- opportunity 
 for doing this. Having borrowed something of 
 Erskine, which he knew would be needed dur- 
 ing the hour of study, when all the pupils 
 were required to be in their rooms, he pur- 
 posely avoided returning it. When Erskine 
 went to him for it, he suddenly shut the door, 
 
62 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 locked it, and putting tlie key in his pocket, 
 said, " Now, you are not going down till the 
 study hour is over." Erskine finding that 
 remonstrance was vain, and not thinking it 
 best to attempt obtaining the key by force, 
 as in that case the house would be disturbed, 
 and he would be required to report unfavor- 
 ably of the offender, yielded as best he could 
 to the " durance vile^'' until such time as his 
 jailor saw fit to liberate him. His generous 
 and gentlemanly conduct at this time, gained 
 for him the respect of all to whom the trans- 
 action became known. 
 
 He now found it necessary to be continually 
 on his guard, lest he should be drawn into a 
 participation in some foolish prank, planned 
 by the idle, and restless for the annoyance of 
 the more studious of the pupils. 
 
 On passing through an upper hall one morn- 
 ing, two of the pupils, who were pulling with 
 all their might upon a rope, called out to him 
 to stop. On hearing the request, " Hawes, 
 lend us a hand here," he turned back, and, not 
 
WILLISTON ACADEMY. 
 
 63 
 
 noticing that the rope was fastened to a door 
 knob, and that the door opened inward, he 
 grasped it with both hands. Instantly they 
 fled, when the door yielding to the force ap- 
 plied on the inside, opened with a bound, and 
 out sprang the infuriated pupil, who had been 
 thus kept there against his will, and, with 
 clenched fists, darted upon his innocent vic- 
 tim. Instantly they fell — the pupil, restrain- 
 ing, as by magic, the intended blow, exclaim- 
 ed, with a voice, agitated by the sudden revul- 
 sion of feeling, " Hawes, if I had not seen that 
 it was you, I should have felled you to the 
 floor." An apology was of course made, 
 which set the matter right. Erskine had 
 now gained for himself so much respect among 
 his fellow pupils, that he was not afterwards 
 molested. He had also gained what he after- 
 wards found occasion for, in his college life — 
 " courage to be thought simple^ concerning 
 evil." 
 
 A few remarks here seem to be demanded 
 to correct a mistake that will very naturally be 
 
64 
 
 ERSKINE J. 
 
 H A W E S . 
 
 made on reading the foregoing pages, viz., 
 That it was really easy for him to do right, 
 easier than the contrary. This was far from 
 being true. Could all the struggles he was 
 obliged to make to extricate himself in the 
 hour of temptation, be recounted here, they 
 would be seen to be no mere child's play. 
 The thing which, more than any other, was in- 
 strumental in keeping him from being swept 
 away, if not utterly ruined, by the tempta- 
 tions with which his path was beset, at every 
 stage, from infancy to manhood, was his confi- 
 dence in his mother. 
 
 To a kind Providence it was owing that this 
 one link in the chain which bound him to 
 a life of virtue and usefulness, was never 
 broken. 
 
 In September, 184*7, he entered Yale Col- 
 lege. It was with much uncertainty as to his 
 being able to continue his studies, that he en- 
 tered on his collegiate course, but contrary to 
 his own fears, and also those of his friends, his 
 health was much better during the four years 
 
YALE COLLEGE. 
 
 65 
 
 of his college life, than at any previous period 
 of the same length. This was doubtless 
 mainly owing to the climate — its proximity to 
 the sea ; but something must be attributed to 
 the regularity of his .college life. As must 
 have been seen, he had a great dread of being 
 found delinquent. 
 
 With his customary forethought, he pro- 
 vided against the possibility of this, in regard 
 to his college exercises. 
 
 The boarding-house selected for him was at 
 some distance from the college, and out of 
 hearing of the college bell. His mother, at 
 his request, placed herself near the chapel, 
 watch in hand, while he passed to and from 
 his boarding place, that so he might time the 
 distance. The same forethought and pre- 
 cision entered into all his arrangements. 
 
 His first visit home, was at the annual 
 Thanksgiving, November, 184*7. He met his 
 mother at the door, and with a beaming coun- 
 tenance said, " Mother, I have done it^'' allud- 
 ing to something which she had been exceed- 
 4* 
 
66 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 ingly desirous to have him do, but to whicli 
 he had manifested great reluctance. 
 
 To the cordial welcome of his father, he 
 responded in such a way as to show that it 
 was not undeserved. " Father, I have not 
 been late to prayers, nor absent from prayers, 
 once. I have not lost a lesson, nor had a poor 
 lesson, onceP These things were said, not in 
 the spirit of boasting, but to assure his parents 
 that he had not been unmindful of the privi- 
 leges they had conferred upon him, but had 
 improved them to the extent of his power. 
 That was truly a thanksgiving visit. 
 
 Here was one secret of his uniform health, 
 a cheerfulness resulting from the consciousness 
 of doing right. 
 
CHAPTEK IV. 
 
 EELIGIOUS TRAINING PROFESSION OF RELIGION 
 
 COLLEGE LIFE TEAR IN TEACHING. 
 
 Although the whole course of his training, 
 moral and intellectual, was aimed to be -con- 
 ducted on strictly Christian principles, yet 
 there were times when the great doctrines and 
 duties of religion were brought to bear more 
 immediately on the mind and heart. 
 
 As soon as the little one could take in the 
 idea of One who lived above the sky, of a 
 heavenly Father there, he was taught to ad- 
 dress to hira little petitions in simple words, in 
 order to awaken, in his yet unformed mind, a 
 sense of his dependence upon him, as also of 
 his accountability to him for all his conduct. 
 
 During this early period, a scene is remem- 
 bered, with a distinctness and vividness as if 
 of yesterday's occurrence. 
 
 It was sometimes necessary for the mother 
 
68 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 to take her little boy with her, during her 
 hour for retiremeut. At such times a quan- 
 tity of toys would be placed before him, in 
 some pleasant part of the room, while his 
 mother retired to some more secluded spot. 
 On one such occasion his little feet were heard 
 patting softly along to the chair where his 
 mother was kneeling. Having laid his head 
 upon it he continued looking wistfully up into 
 her face, until she laid her hand upon his fore- 
 head and invoked for him the blessing of his 
 heavenly Father. Those soft eyes ! they seem 
 to be looking up into that mother's face now, 
 she would fain hope not reproachfully ! But 
 oh, what a moment was that, when the young, 
 the immoi'tal spirit of the little one, was tak- 
 ing the direction of its flight for eternity. 
 
 The scene never rises before the mind, with- 
 out the most overwhelming sense of a mother's 
 responsibility in shaping the immortal destiny 
 of her child, and the necessity that is laid upon 
 her, to see to it, that nothing be wanting on her 
 part, to secure to the little one, committed to 
 
RELIGIOUS TRAINING. 
 
 69 
 
 her care for that very purpose, au immortality 
 of blessedness. 
 
 From this time onward, as his mind opened 
 to the reception of ideas, he was instructed in 
 the simple elements of divine truth, the basis 
 of which was, the fallen and ruined state of 
 man, and his recovery to the favor and friend- 
 ship of God, through the mediation and suf- 
 fering of Jesus Christ. Such insti'uction was 
 never given him in a cold, formal way. 
 
 The simple stories of the Bible, the fami- 
 liar hymn, such as " Watts' Divine Songs," and 
 other attractive methods, were adopted to 
 draw his young heart away from the world, 
 and lead him to seek his happiness in the love 
 and service of God. But although his mind 
 was often deeply impressed by divine truth, 
 particularly truths relating to his own con- 
 dition as a lost sinner, exposed to eternal death, 
 and as often during childhood was pointed 
 to him who said, " Suffer little children to 
 come unto me," and in maturer age, to " The 
 Lamb of God, who taketh away the sins of the 
 
70 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 world," yet something kept his young heart 
 back from God, and his parents were made 
 painfully to feel the necessity of divine inter- 
 position in his behalf. 
 
 Soon after entering the grammar school, he 
 was greatly distressed about himself He felt 
 that he was a sinner, needing pardon and 
 peace with God, and cried out in anguish of 
 spirit, " Oh, mother, what shall I do ? '.' And 
 what could his mother tell him to do, but to 
 commit himself to Him^ who only could do for 
 him what he needed. 
 
 At this time he asked his father to " let 
 him stay out of school a little tvhile, as he could 
 not be good there." 
 
 The expression of countenance, indicating 
 the struggle within, the tone of voice, the 
 manner of that touching, child-like request, 
 seem still present to the mind of the writer. 
 
 As time passed on, he had frequent seasons 
 of deep anxiety about himself. At the age 
 of seventeen, at which time, as has been seen, 
 the failure of his health prevented his enter- 
 
RELIGIOUS TRAINING. Yl 
 
 ing college, he was in a state of alarming des- 
 pondency, threatening at times, his intellect. 
 For months previous to his going on to a farm 
 in the country, he suffered more than words 
 can express, from a fear of having committed 
 the unpardonable sin ; at this time, it was com- 
 mon for him to resist sleep, lest he should 
 wake in the world of despair. He would 
 often say to his mother, he was "a poor worth- 
 less being, only an incumbrance in the world, 
 and the sooner he was out of it the better." 
 
 All the promises of the Gospel were pow- 
 erless then. They failed to throw one ray of 
 light athwart hs clouded vision. It was use- 
 less also to point to the state of his health, as 
 one cause of the state of his mind. The only 
 thing that kept him from absolute despair, 
 was, the confident faith of his mother, that God 
 had a work for her son to do in the world, and 
 that, by this discipline, he was qualifiying him 
 for the performance of it. 
 
 This belief of hers she labored to impress 
 upon his mind, by every means in her power, 
 
72 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 and it so far availed as to awaken in him a 
 hope that it might prove true. The following 
 lines vividly describe his state at this time : 
 
 " I see, or think I see, 
 
 A glimmering from afar, 
 A beam of day that shines for me, 
 To save me from despair." 
 
 After his summer on a farm, and his winter 
 at Easthampton, his health was much improved, 
 and his mind in a much better state. 
 
 He had lost none of his interest in the 
 subject of religion, but he looked at it in 
 a calmer and more hopeful manner. He could 
 now contemplate his personal interest in it 
 without that desponding feeling, which had, 
 hitherto, prevented a successful prosecution of 
 the subject whenever it had pressed with more 
 than usual weight on his mind. 
 
 As the time drew nigh for him to enter 
 college, he quickened his efforts to become a 
 Christian, yet he entered with the conviction 
 
RELIGIOUS TRAINING. 
 
 73 
 
 that he was not at that time " all right " in re- 
 gard to that important matter. 
 
 When in college, he found that there were 
 temptations to encounter, of which he had form- 
 ed only the faintest conception. This put him 
 upon looking up for strength to resist, and 
 overcome them. It had been his habit from 
 childhood, to resort to prayer, in any case of 
 trial. It is believed that he never retired at 
 night without committing himself to God in 
 prayer. While at Easthampton, haviug taken 
 up a higher, and of course more difficult 
 branch of mathematics, after having detailed 
 some of his difficulties to his mother, he con- 
 tinues, "I pray over my studies, and I don't 
 see that they come any easier to me." But to 
 resume the subject of his interest in religion. 
 
 On his return home during the winter vaca- 
 tion, January, 1848, there was a marked change 
 in his views and feelings in regard to the sub- 
 ject of religion. He was more hopeful, and 
 could converse with calmness on his own inter- 
 est in the matter. It was evident that the 
 
74 
 
 ERSKIXE J. HAWES. 
 
 one subject uppermost in his thoughts, and to 
 which all the energies of his mind were 
 directed, was the securing an interest in Christ, 
 and the blessings of his salvation. 
 
 On his return to college at the close of the 
 vacation, he soon communicated to his parents 
 the grateful intelligence that he "had the 
 pleasing assurance of having made his peace 
 with God," and that he " had at last found 
 rest in the bosom of his Saviour," 
 
 He spoke of his "previous indecision," of 
 " the wavering state of his mind," of having 
 "been balancing the question, whether to 
 give himself entirely up to God or not," He 
 continues, " On Sunday evening last, when re- 
 turning from chapel, I made the firm resolve 
 to give myself thenceforth and forever to God^ 
 and I went to my room feeling very happy, 
 and endeavored to strengthen, by as fervent a 
 prayer as possible, the resolution I had just 
 made," * * * In this letter, he speaks of 
 "a sermon on the Judgment, by President 
 Wheeler," which he had heard some time 
 
PROFESSION OF RELIGION. Y5 
 
 previous; in which, the final judgment 
 was held forth in such a light, as to make a 
 deep impression on his mind, that ever since 
 that time he had been thinking more and more 
 seriously on the subject. He says, "Perhaps 
 it would be well for me to remark here, that 
 all the time I have been in New Haven, I 
 have had my thoughts turned more to the sub- 
 ject of religion than before, and there seems 
 to have been an influence here, which I have 
 never before felt." * * * * 
 
 One who had known Erskine from child- 
 hood, had spent some years in his father's 
 family, had partly fitted for college there, and 
 who is now a minister of the Gospel, in a 
 letter to the mother of Erskine, says : 
 
 "On the day that your beloved daughter, 
 Mrs. Van Lennep, left Hartford, I said to her, 
 ' Oh, I wish Erskine was a Christian, it would 
 be such a comfort to you now.' ' Charles,' she 
 replied, ' I know he will be converted. I have 
 prayed to God for him, and I am perfectly 
 sure that Erskine will become a Christian.' 
 
ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 " I often thought of those words, and longed 
 for the event, for they inspirited me with the 
 result. When Erskine came to Yale, I was 
 rejoiced' to see that he had full confidence in 
 me as a friend, and came to me for help and 
 counsel. At a proper time I spoke to him of 
 personal religion, to which he listened with 
 earnest attention, said he thought much on the 
 subject, and knew he ought to be a Christian. 
 
 " One Sabbath afternoon, the last in January, 
 1848, as I sat in my room lost in reflection, 
 arising from the sermon I had just heard in the 
 chapel, a gentle knock aroused me from my 
 reverie. Erskine entered, and in a moment 
 I saw by the look of anxiety on his face that 
 he was in great trouble. I said, ' Well, Erskine, 
 how is it about your soul?' He burst into 
 tears and said, ' Oh, Charles, I am such a 
 great sinner against God ! What shall I do V 
 I took him by the hand, and we sat down. He 
 poured out the deep and pent up feelings of 
 his heart ; spoke of all his privileges, so many 
 and great — of his dear sister — how earnestly 
 
PROFESSION OF RELIGION. 
 
 she had desired his salvation. This feeling 
 was the one uppermost. ' Oh, I have been 
 such a great sinner against God, I wonder that 
 I am .alive !' We knelt and prayed. He ut- 
 tered a few broken petitions, but a sense of his 
 deep and dreadful guilt seemed to overwhelm 
 him, and all that I could say or do seemed 
 only to enhance a sense of this. That evje- 
 ning, at his request, I wrote to his father, stat- 
 ing his case. He could not study, and his 
 tutor gave him his option, as to attending 
 recitations. Nothing diverted his attention 
 or had any power to interj3st him. I never 
 saw a more clear case of the work of the 
 Holy Spirit, giving deep conviction of sin, 
 and of the need of an all-sufficient Saviour. 
 
 " At the close of the week I met him, and 
 saw that the deep, settled anxiety he had 
 worn, had given place to a cheerful, tender 
 joy and peace. I asked him, ' Have you found 
 the Saviour?' His answer was, 'I believe 
 I have.' 
 
 "There was no ecstasy, no undue excitement, 
 
78 
 
 ERSKINE J. 
 
 H A W E S , 
 
 but a solemn and even cheerful determination 
 to give up all, and, as a lost sinner, to trust in 
 the promise of Christ. 
 
 " And so he went on. We often talked and 
 prayed together, and it was a joy and comfort 
 greater than I can express to see the confident 
 faith of that sainted sister realized. 
 
 ^"My memory is stored with many other 
 things, of great interest to me. As you know, 
 we made a tour to Williamstown, Pittsfield, 
 and other places, in September, 1849, and he 
 revelled on the fine scenery during the journey, 
 and. both of us enjoyed it exceedingly. Every 
 night and morning we began and ended the 
 day with prayer." * * * 
 
 On the first Sabbath in July, 1848, he uni- 
 ted with his father's church in Hartford. 
 During the solemn transaction, something oc- 
 curred, which in other circumstances would 
 have annoyed him greatly. His mother ex- 
 pressed her regret for this. His reply was, 
 " 1 did not notice it, I was alone with God, 
 entering into solemn covenant with him." 
 
COLLEGE LIFE. 
 
 79 
 
 His college life must be passed over briefly, 
 the monotony of which was interrupted by 
 very few incidents. 
 
 His summer vacations were spent, either 
 at the sea side, or among the mountains in 
 Berkshire. Here, with a few choice friends, 
 he luxuriated, amid the exuberance of na- 
 ture's wildest and grandest scenery ; and 
 here he gained strength and vigor of mind 
 and body, for the succeeding college campaign. 
 His winter vacations were spent at home. 
 
 While in college, he entered the Sabbath 
 school as a teacher, and performed with inter- 
 est and fidelity his duties, as such. 
 
 He also indulged in his favorite musical en- 
 tei'tainments, by joining the Beethoven society, 
 and in rendering important assistance in the 
 college choir. 
 
 Some of his experience in the course he 
 took in regard to the various college societies 
 may not be deemed out of place here. 
 
 Of two of the more important of these, he 
 was a member, the Brothers and the Phi 
 
80 ERSKINB J. HAWES. 
 
 Beta; but lie never joined a secret society. 
 His objections to these were : 1st. They were 
 seci'et. Everything worth having, would bear 
 to be known. 2d. They were not approved 
 by his parents and judicious friends. 3d. The 
 officers of college were not in favor of them. 
 Then there were certain things connected with 
 them, unfavorable to study ; such as late hours, 
 suppers, to say nothing of expenses which the 
 wealthy could meet, but which must be shared 
 equally by all, and for which he felt he had 
 no right to draw upon the resources of his 
 father. 
 
 In conversing on the subject after leaving 
 college, he expressed the opinion that he 
 should doubtless have stood better with his 
 classmates, if he had joined them, but that 
 his conscience did not accuse him of having 
 done wrong in the matter. 
 
 In 1851, he graduated with no disci-edit to 
 himself or his college. 
 
 It was now an important question, not only 
 to himself but to his parents, how he should 
 
A TEAR IN TEACHING. 
 
 81 
 
 put to the right use, qualifications on .which so 
 much labor and expense had been bestowed. 
 
 During a period of religious interest in col- 
 lege, he had unhesitatingly chosen the ministry 
 as his profession. With this ultimately in view, 
 he decided on spending a year in teaching. 
 
 In the autumn of 1851, he entered the high 
 school in his native city, then under the super- 
 intendence of Mr. T. Curtis, and remained in- 
 connection with it as assistant teacher, for one 
 year. This was a very profitable year to him. 
 Aside from the advantages to be derived from 
 his connection with the school, he had the 
 companionship of Mr. W. B. Capron, then 
 principal of the classical department, now 
 missionary of the American Board in Madura ; 
 also a large circle of intelligent Christian 
 friends in the city. In addition to this, his 
 home privileges were not small. 
 
 During this year, there was a season of 
 
 much religious interest in the city. At its 
 
 close it was apparent to all, that he had been 
 
 set forward in his Christian course. 
 5 
 
CHAPTER Y. 
 
 THEOLOGICAL STUDIES CONFLICT LICENSE 
 
 GRADUATES AT ANDOVER ENTERS ON A 
 
 FOURTH TEAR AT NEW HAVEN. 
 
 In the autumn of 1852, lie entered the 
 Theological Seminary at Audover. Before 
 entei'ing, he had been greatly tried in his mind 
 as to his qualifications for the ministry. As 
 months rolled away, his anxiety and perplex- 
 ity on the subject increased to such a degree 
 as almost to disqualify him for profitable 
 study ; and he came at length to doubt, 
 whether he was in reality a Christian. . Twice 
 during his second year, he came home with the 
 intention of laying open his case to his father ; 
 but he was prostrated by severe illness, and he 
 could not add to his trouble. They were 
 indeed deep waters, through which he was then 
 passing. It was evident to those who best 
 knew him, that somethiug was weighing heavily 
 
84 
 
 ERSKINE J. HA WES. 
 
 on his spirit. He was not buoyant and cheerful 
 as formerly ; but it was only to his mother 
 that his feelings were disclosed. These were 
 months of trial, to both mother and son. It 
 was her prevailing hope that God was thus 
 leading him as it were through the fires, that 
 lie might purify him from the dross of selfish- 
 ness, pride, and ambition, and that he would 
 one day bring him forth, a workman meet for 
 the master's service. His health suffered ; an 
 impenetrable cloud rested on the pathway 
 before him. He could not go forward- in his 
 preparation for the ministry. At length as the 
 vacation at the end of the year drew near its 
 close, and he must return to Andover if he 
 returned at all, and enter upon his third year, 
 he made a full disclosure to his father. This 
 was, as he supposed it must be, an unexpected 
 and severe trial to him. His father could not 
 advise him to go forward and enter the minis- 
 try in the state of feeling in which he then 
 was ; but thought he should return to Ando- 
 vei', and continue his studies, and wait the in- 
 
THEOLOGICAL STUDIES. 85 
 
 dications of Providence in this matter. In the 
 meantime, lie advised liim to see Professor 
 Barrows, and lay open his case to him. Pro- 
 fessor Barrows has kindly furnished the writer 
 with an account of what he styles, " that men- 
 tal conflict which constituted the crisis of his 
 life after he began his theological studies :" 
 
 "My first acquaintance with the late Rev. 
 Erskine J. Hawes, was in Andover Theolo- 
 gical Seminary, where I knew him as a modest, 
 pure minded, earnest, and studious young man, 
 who gave good promise of future usefulness in 
 the gospel ministry. As he advanced in the 
 theological course, a tinge of despondency be- 
 gan to manifest itself in his conversation and 
 general demeanor. I witnessed this with some 
 uneasiness, fearing that he might settle down 
 into an unhealthy tone of feeling, which would 
 weaken his interest in his studies, and impair 
 the thoroughness of his preparation for the 
 ministerial work. A letter received about 
 this time from his father who had not failed 
 to notice the depression of his spirits in 
 
86 ERSKINEJ.HAWES. 
 
 view of the ministerial office for which 
 he was preparing himself, increased my so- 
 licitude in his behalf As I was inquiring 
 with myself how I might approach him on the 
 subject without repelling him by apparent ob- 
 trusiveness, he relieved me of my embarrass- 
 ment by seeking an interview with me. 
 
 " He began by saying, as nearly as I can re- 
 member his words: 'I have about made up 
 my mind to renounce the woi'k of preparation 
 for the ministry. I do not think that I have 
 the qualifications necessary to make me an 
 efficient preacher of the Gospel ; and the idea 
 of being a poor preacher, an incumbrance to 
 the sacred offic.e, is what I cannot bear.' My 
 first effort was to induce him to suspend his 
 decision, and this point I argued very ear- 
 nestly with him, urging him to do nothing 
 rashly, and endeavoring to show him that, even 
 should he not enter the ministry, the course 
 of theological training to which he was sub- 
 jecting himself would abundantly repay the 
 labor bestowed upon it. But he continued to 
 
THE CONFLICT. 
 
 87 
 
 repeat, in various forms, the difficulty witli which 
 he had opened the interview. In doing so he 
 was very modest and respectful, for it did not 
 belong to either his nature or his education to 
 be otherwise ; but at the same time he was 
 very earnest and persevering. ' You would 
 not advise,' he said, ' that all should be min- 
 sisters of the Gospel. One man can do most 
 good in the ministry because he has the re- 
 quisite qualificatiouB for it. Another can do 
 more good in some other calling. To urge 
 him forward would be no favor to him or 
 to the churches.' That there are men in 
 the s'acred office who are an incumbrance to 
 it, and who would relieve the churches by 
 demitting it, s.eemed to rest heavily on his 
 spirits, and he more than once adverted to the 
 fact, repeating the declaration : • I do not 
 wish to be such a minister.' Of course I could 
 not deny the premises from which he argued. 
 I frankly admitted the facts ; and added, if I 
 rightly recollect, that I believed in both the 
 good judgment and candor of his friends, who 
 
88 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 had advised liiin to seek the sacred office, be- 
 cause they judged that he had the requisite 
 qualifications for it. Yet it did not seem to 
 me that I succeeded in making much impres- 
 sion upon his mind. 
 
 " At this distance of time I am not able to say 
 whether it was at a later stage of the inter- 
 view just related, or during another and sub- 
 sequent interview, that I turned the discussion 
 into a different channel, and as I had reason to 
 believe, with much better success. With re- 
 gard to his objection of wanting the proper 
 qualifications for a gospel minister, I told him 
 that if he meant qualifications to occupy a 
 high station in the church, as the world 
 counts highness, the sooner he laid aside that 
 idea, the better; since the young man who 
 seeks the sacred office with such a thought be- 
 fore his mind is sure to be corrupted by the 
 bad leaven of worldly ambition. I dwelt at 
 some length on the fact that it is only a few 
 of Christ's servants on whom he bestows the 
 good gift of commanding eloquence and in- 
 
THE CONFLICT. 
 
 89 
 
 fluence; that the idea that only such men 
 should be preachers of the Gospel is simply- 
 absurd ; that the true "question to be settled 
 by a young man and his friends, should be 
 whether there is reasonable ground for be- 
 lieving that he can serve Christ acceptably in 
 the ministry in some position, though it be not 
 among those which the world calls high : that 
 he who has a right view of the ministerial 
 office will seek it purely from its spiritual 
 attractions, because he loves and covets the 
 work itself of guiding sinners to Christ, and 
 building up Christ's disciples in the faith ; and 
 that such a spirit will prepare him to labor 
 cheerfully and contentedly in any post to 
 which the providence of God may call him, 
 though it be among those that the world calls 
 obscure, where often the most real good is ac- 
 complished ; that, if the master should have 
 need for him in a station of commanding in- 
 fluence, he will signify it at the proper time ; 
 if not, no harm is done. I told him further 
 
 that I was not sorry to witness in him this 
 5* 
 
90 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 mental conflict, for I believed that by it the 
 Spirit of God was preparing him to be a 
 preacher of the Gospel in deed and in truth ; 
 that it is God's way to put those whom he is 
 preparing for true usefulness into the fire, 
 either before their entrance upon the sacred 
 office,- or afterwards ; that thus their self-reli- 
 ance and worldly views may be burnt out of 
 them, and they may learn to lean implicitly 
 upon his grace, and seek simply his glory. 
 
 " To this presentation of the sj3iritual side of 
 the ministerial office he listened with earnest 
 silence, without making, so far as I can now re- 
 member, any reply, except to thank me for 
 the interest I had manifested in his case. 
 How much impression it made'upon him, I can- 
 not say. I thought at the time, that, along 
 with the influences that were operating upon 
 him from other sources, the Spirit of God was 
 pleased to make some use of it to guide him 
 to a right decision of the momentous question 
 before him. However this may hav^e been, he 
 came to me a few days afterwards, with a coun- 
 
THE CONFLICT. 
 
 91 
 
 tenance illuminated by the holy composure 
 that had taken possession of his soul, and said : 
 ' Well, I have determined to go on, and do 
 the best I can.' From that time, I never wit- 
 nessed any wavering in his purpose. This 
 decision, made, as I fully believe, under the 
 influence of the Holy Spirit, seemed to im- 
 part new life and energy to him, intellectually 
 as well as morally. His friends noticed with 
 pleasure the new interest with which he 
 viewed the whole field of theological inquiry. 
 He looked upon the doctrines of the Gospel 
 from the spii'itual side, and entered upon the 
 investigation of them, not only as a matter 
 of intellectual pastime, but as one who be- 
 lieved them to be ' the panoply of God,' 
 wherewith he arms his ministers, that they 
 may wage a successful war against the world, 
 the flesh, and the devil — a panoply which he 
 Loped to be permjtted soon to put on, that 
 in it he might himself fight the good fight of 
 faith. 
 
 *' After he left the seminary I followed his 
 
92 ERSKINE J. HAWES'. 
 
 movements -vvitli deep interest, and learned 
 with great pleasure of Lis settlement among a 
 united people, who loved him, and whom he 
 loved in return ; among whom he devoted him- 
 self, so earnestly and successfully, to the great 
 work of preaching Christ crucified. To human 
 view, he had the prospect of a long and faithful 
 ministry. But it was God's purpose that it 
 should be — how brief! When the news that it 
 had in very deed closed forever, first reached 
 us here, it was so astounding that we could 
 hardly believe it. But we remembered that 
 God has done the same thing before, in a 
 much higher sphere than any of us are per- 
 mitted to , occupy. How full of wonderful 
 meaning is that simple sentence of holy writ : 
 ' And he killed James, the brother of John, 
 with the sword.' James had been three 
 years under our Lord's personal training. He 
 was one of the three favpred apostles whom 
 he admitted to peculiar intimacy with himself ; 
 who alone were permitted to witness the 
 raising of Jairus's daughter, the transfigura- 
 
LICENSED. 
 
 93 
 
 tion, and the agony in Gethsemane. Yet, 
 after a ministry of only a few years, he who 
 had all power in heaven and earth, suffered 
 James to perish by the sword of Herod. He 
 did not esteem his ministry too brief for all the 
 divine culture which he had himself bestowed 
 upon him, much less should we have any such 
 reasonings in respect to the human culture 
 bestowed upon our departed fj-iond. In 
 carrying forward his cause, our heavenly 
 Master is never straitened for resources. He 
 cares not so much for the quantity of our labor 
 as its quality. He wants the whole heart, and 
 then he will accept it, and order by his own 
 unerring wisdom the limits of our earthly 
 service. 
 
 E. Bareows. 
 
 Andover Theol. Sem., Nov. 30, 1860. 
 
 After these interviews with Dr. Barrows, he 
 proceeded with more comfort to himself, and 
 also more successfully in his preparation for 
 the work of the ministry. 
 
 He was examined and licensed, Jan. 16th, 
 
94 
 
 ERSKINE J. HA WES. 
 
 1855, by the Fourth Association of Hartford 
 County, assembled in his father's study. 
 
 He graduated at the Theological Seminary, 
 Andover, August, 1855 ; and entered upon a 
 fourth year at New Haven, in the month of 
 October following. 
 
 This was a broken year, much of it was de- 
 voted to the improvement of his health. But 
 although unable to study much, he yet per- 
 formed a good degree of pulpit service, both 
 in his own and a neighboring state. During 
 this year, he had some favorable opportunities 
 for settlement ; but his estimate of the sacred 
 office, the high standard he had set for himself 
 as a suitable qualification for the wort of the 
 ministry, made him shrink back for a time, 
 from taking upon himself its responsibilities 
 and duties. The state of his health also had 
 some weight in the matter. 
 
CHAPTER VL 
 
 CALL TO GREENFIELD PREACHES AT FAL- 
 MOUTH WESTERN TOUR. 
 
 In the month of May, 1856, he was invited 
 to preach at Greenfield, Mass. He accepted 
 the invitation, and was there three Sabbaths. 
 The result of his preaching there has been 
 kindly furnished by one of the prominent 
 members of the church, the Honorable Judge 
 Grinnell. 
 
 In a letter of sympathy to the' bereaved 
 parents, he writes : 
 
 " My acquaintance with your son, brief as it 
 was, was tenderly interesting, and at one time 
 I hoped it would be lasting. * * * His 
 preaching, his social. Christian and ministerial 
 deportment, won the love and respect of our 
 people. His sermons were faithful and earn- 
 est exhibitions of Christian truth and duty. I 
 well remember the impressions, made upon me 
 
96 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 and others by this lovely young teacher. A 
 general and strong desire was felt to extend to 
 him an invitation to settle with us in the min- 
 istry; and a vote was given with great una- 
 nimity by both the church and society in favor 
 of such invitation. An annual salary of $1,000 
 was offered, — a greater sum than the society 
 had ever before paid their minister. 
 
 " Mr. Hawes took the matter of this call into 
 deliberate consideration, as a man of honorable 
 and conscientious character would surely do. 
 He declined a settlement, assigning, as one 
 reason, a doubt whether the then state of his 
 health would admit of his assuming the labors 
 and responsibilities of the pastorate over this 
 church and people. 
 
 "The decision could not but be painful 
 to us." 
 
 The decision of this question cost the youth- 
 ful candidate much serious and anxious inquiry, 
 and many sleepless nights were passed before 
 he could come to any satisfactory result as to 
 his duty, either in declining or accepting the 
 
CALL TO GREENFIELD. 
 
 97 
 
 call. The unanimity of the call seemed clearly 
 to point to the duty of his acceptance. The 
 conditions appended, and the compensation, 
 were every way satisfactory — the plac% to him 
 had attractions as a residence — the society was 
 refined and intelligent, and he already felt a 
 very tender friendship for several of the elder 
 and influential members of the church. 
 
 The people had given him evidence of their 
 satisfaction with his preaching, and in respect 
 to this part of his labors he had reason to hope 
 that he should not disappoint them. But, 
 would his health endure the pressure that must 
 be brought to bear upon it, in the efforts ne- 
 cessary to maintain the general interests of the 
 church and congregation? Of these he had 
 taken no superficial view, and this turned the 
 balance on the negative side. 
 
 His answer, declining an acceptance of the 
 call, bears date June 15th, 1856. In reviewing 
 his decision afterwards, he felt that he had 
 acted wisely, as he had conscientiously ; his 
 health would not have endured the trial. 
 
98 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 During tlie summer and autumn following, 
 he was constantly engaged in supplying vacant 
 pulpits, except during a few weeks, when he 
 was confned at home by severe illness. 
 
 In December, 1856, he was induced to take 
 charge of the congregation of the Kev. Dr. 
 Hooker, of Falmouth, who was obliged to take 
 his wife abroad on account of ill-health. 
 
 In regard to the labors of the pastor whose 
 church he had taken in charge for a few 
 months, he writes: "I find that Dr. Hooker 
 has been in the habit of conducting most of 
 his meetings himself, walking to the different 
 districts where the meetings were to be held, 
 and back again, as a general thing. There are 
 three districts which he visits in this way. He 
 told me that he had not failed of an appoint- 
 ment once on account of ill-health during the 
 twenty past years of his ministry, — out, rain or 
 shine, walking two or three miles to lecture, 
 and back in the evening." "I shall be obliged 
 to work exceedingly hard to tread in his foot- 
 steps." 
 
PREACHES AT FALMOUTH. 99 
 
 Of his first Sabbath, he writes : " I preached 
 yesterday to a very attentive and respectable 
 audience, and took charge in the evening of the 
 Sunday-school concert. I believe it was the first 
 time I ever attempted to address children; 
 and though I think what I said could not be 
 very interesting or edifying to grown-up per- 
 sons, and was not free from blunders and in- 
 elegancies, still I seemed to have the attention 
 of the young, and hope that they were both 
 interested and profited." 
 
 On entering upon his pulpit labors in Fal- 
 mouth, he kept the principle which he had 
 adopted when first he commenced making ser- 
 mons, steadily in view, viz., the profit of the 
 hearers. To qualify himself the better for 
 this, he commenced a systematic course of 
 Scripture reading. He writes: "I am studying 
 Romans in course, with such helps as I can 
 command in an old Greek Testament and 
 Lexicon, but with the serviceable aid, however, 
 of Stewart, Barnes and Chalmers. I can never 
 I'ead the latter without being profited highly, 
 
100 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 in ha\nng my own mind quickened, and made 
 bolder and prepared to encounter difficulties. 
 Besides this, he is eminently suggestive. The 
 more I study, the more I am ashamed of my 
 ignorance of the Scriptures. In writing my 
 sermons, I find myself often obliged to stop 
 and go to investigating more closely." 
 
 Again he writes : " Since I have commenced 
 lecturing, in connection with my other duties, 
 I have been obliged to lay aside my exegetical 
 study and doctrinal reading, except so far as is 
 connected with my preparation for the pulpit 
 and lecture-room. I must return to these again. 
 I have been spending upon my own resources 
 too much, — have been giving myself too ex- 
 clusively to the preparation for the pulpit and 
 too little to the study of, and the storing my 
 mind with, such truths as shall refresh and 
 quicken the sensibilities, and keep me lively 
 and earnest in the great matters of religion." 
 
 From the commencement of his labors in 
 Falmouth, he had a very ardent desire to see a 
 revival of religion among the people. He was 
 
PREACHES AT FALMOUTH. 101 
 
 strengthened in his eiforts for this by a similar 
 desire on the part of the absent pastor. 
 
 He writes : " I am encouraged by his prayers 
 and good wishes that my labors may be blessed 
 in his absence ; — and I find, also, this to be the 
 general desire and hope. May it be realized ! " 
 
 "I often find myself casting my thoughts 
 forward, and wondering how, with my limited 
 experience, I should succeed in conducting a 
 revival if the Lord should see fit to bless my 
 labors. * * * My sermons I have made as 
 direct as possible, and as close to the con- 
 science ; but the residue of the spirit is with the 
 Lord. Now and then, I hear of one and ano- 
 ther, made serious by this or that discourse ; 
 but there has been so much interruption to the 
 meetings this winter, and there is so much to 
 divert the attention as the spring comes on, 
 that my faith is somewhat shaken. Much of the 
 interruption to the meetings during the winter 
 was owing to the weather." He writes : " The 
 oldest inhabitants do not remember such a win- 
 ter for severity. The snow was, at one time, 
 
102 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 banked up in places eight or ten feet high, the 
 roads impassable, and for a week there was no 
 mail." Again, in February, he writes: "A" 
 multitude of unpleasant Sabbaths. They tell 
 me I have not yet seen my entire congregation 
 together. The weather is now milder; the 
 snow is disappearing again as fast as it came ; 
 it melts away like magic under the mild, soft 
 breezes from the sea." 
 
 The diversion of which he spoke as the 
 spring approached, was from another and a 
 more absorbing object. The people were 
 about remodeling their old church. 
 
 March 4th, he writes : " The first of April we 
 leate the old church. I am preparing a sermon 
 for the occasion ; shall take for my text : ' If I 
 forget thee, O Jerusalem,' etc., confining my 
 remarks, not so much to the propriety of beau- 
 tifying places of worship as to 'appropriate re- 
 flections on leaving an old sanctuary.' " The 
 following is a biief abstract of portions of the 
 sermon : 
 
 "The purpose of the captive exile, 'to re- 
 
PEEACHES AT FALMOUTH. 103 
 
 member, and not forget Jerusalem,' as he ' wept 
 by the rivers of Babylon,' " although uttered in 
 circumstances so unlike those of the worship- 
 pers in that old sanctuary about to be taken 
 down, yet furnished a model sufficiently sug- 
 gestive of thoughts^ for the illustration of the 
 subject. 
 
 "Associations that cluster in memory around 
 the place of one's birth, — tender recollections 
 of childhood and of home, — the chamber where 
 was lisped the first prayer of infancy, — the 
 family altar, with all its hallowed remem- 
 brances," — Scenes, such as these, were happily 
 introduced to illustrate the more sacred and 
 endearing associations that cluster around an 
 old sanctuary, the place of one's spiritual birth. 
 
 "The Theophanies in the ancient Temple, 
 accompanying the gorgeous rites and imposing 
 ceremonies of Jewish worship," were introduced, 
 " to show in strong contrast the superiority of 
 th-ose manifestations with which the great 
 Head of the Church now condescends to bless 
 his true worshippers, in his spiritual sanctuary. 
 
104 
 
 ERSKINE J. 
 
 H AWES. 
 
 of whicli the ancient temple worship was but 
 the shadow : — with such seasons of divine mani- 
 festation, the memory of this sanctuary will be 
 associated in after years." Such were some 
 of the thoughts presented in the commence- 
 ment of the sermon — the last ever preached in 
 that old church, the spiritual birthplace of 
 many of its aged, as also of its youthful wor- 
 shippers. 
 
 When about to leave Falmouth, he suffered 
 much in thought of the unfruitfulness of his 
 ministry there ; — lamented that he must leave 
 the people as he found them. He had en- 
 deavored to preach the pure Gospel, was not 
 conscious of having spared himself in case of 
 any duty or labor, yet he saw no saving results. 
 This, he thought, must be owing to some 
 defect in his ministry. 
 
 He says: "All are very attentive, and from 
 some hints I have occasionally received, I be- 
 lieve my preaching is very well liked ; but this 
 is speaking too favorably of myself. Last Sab- 
 bath, in the afternoon, I felt myself dreadfully 
 
PREACHES AT FALMOUTH. 
 
 105 
 
 deserted. I was so ashamed that I did not 
 once look at the audience." 
 
 It should be recorded with gratitude here, 
 that he was not always left thus. After his 
 settlement in the ministry, he said to a friend : 
 " I sometimes go into my lecture-room, feeling 
 sadly depressed, but the Lord wonderfully sus- 
 tains me." 
 
 It seems due to the youthful preacher to 
 state a fact here, touching the acceptableness 
 of his ministerial labors in Falmouth. The 
 people had some reason to suppose that they 
 should at no distant day be deprived of the 
 labors of their much-loved and respected pas- 
 tor. And such proved to be the fact. Before 
 formally announcing to his people his intention 
 of leaving them, the Rev. Dr. Hooker commu- 
 nicated with the subject of this memoir, as- 
 suring him, that in case he left, the people of 
 Falmouth would look to him to fill the vacancy. 
 But for reasons which appeared satisfactory to 
 himself, and also to his father, he discouraged 
 
 any such expectation on their part. 
 6 
 
106 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 Before leaving Falmoutla, in a letter to his 
 father, he says: "There is one plan on which 
 my mind has dwelt much of late. I have not 
 mentioned it to you, except casually : it is the 
 idea of ti-avelling. It seems to me that it 
 is just the experience that I need. I feel an 
 irrepressible desire to visit the East. I merely 
 mention the matter to know what you think 
 of it." 
 
 This desire was gradually ripening into a 
 purpose after his settlement in the ministry. 
 The idea of one day "standing by his sister's 
 grave," was looked forward to, as more than 
 a possible event. 
 
 But another and a speedier meeting had 
 been arranged for him, not on Moslem soil, 
 sui-rounded by the gloom)'' receptacles of the 
 dead, but, as there is every reason to believe, 
 amid the splendors of a heavenly home, — not 
 to weep over the silent dust, from which could 
 come no response or note of recognition, but to 
 be actually in the presence of her, who, " hav- 
 ing gone before, was waiting to welcome him 
 
LETTER TO HIS FATHER. 107 
 
 to the joys of pure and delightful fellowship 
 in the courts above."* 
 
 Just before his return home, his father wrote 
 to secure his services for one Sabbath. He 
 wrote in answer, " I must say that I look forward 
 with some trepidation to supplying our pulpit, 
 for I am inclined to regard the sermons which 
 I have prepared as better adapted to some 
 other people than to the great and the wise of 
 our congregation. Indeed, I wonder, when I 
 think with how little fear I made my first ap- 
 pearance in our pulpit, with my meager modi- 
 cum of truth with which to feed those of vastly 
 larger experience than myself And it is when 
 reviewing these first effoi'ts that I find my con- 
 fidence shaken at the thought of again appear- 
 ing before our people. It seems to me as if I was 
 made growingly sensible of my imperfections. 
 I wish some other arrangement could be made. 
 
 Perhaps, H would like to exchange." That 
 
 exchange was made. 
 
 * Extract from his sermon, preached on occasion of leaving the 
 old church at Falmouth. 
 
108 ERSKINE J. HAWES, 
 
 Oa the return of Dr. Hooker to Ms charge 
 in Falmouth, Erskine returned to his home m 
 Hartford, and began maturing a plan of travel. 
 In consequence of a letter from La Crosse, 
 Wisconsin, he decided on going West, not that 
 he had any expectation of settling there, but 
 the letter was made the occasion of visiting 
 that part of the country. Before leaving 
 home, among other places, he preached 'one 
 Sabbath in Plymouth, Ct. This was the last 
 Sabbath in May, 1857. His going there, as it 
 appeared at the time, was merely accidental. 
 Another person had engaged to supply the 
 pulpit, but being unable, for some reason, to 
 do it, he requested E. to go in his place. He 
 went and preached, returned home, and thought 
 no more of it. Not so the Plymouth people. 
 
 In the month of June, 1857, he started on 
 his western tour. Having never been further 
 in that direction than the falls of Niagara, 
 everything to him was, of course, new and 
 strange. His vivid descriptions in his letters 
 home, furnish a rich dioramic view of the 
 
WESTERN TOUR. 109 
 
 States through which he passed. At St. Louis, 
 where he spent several days, and where, 
 through the kindness of friends residing there, 
 he had been shown something of the " magni- 
 tude and extent of the immense business" car- 
 ried on in that " 'world of itself^'' not forgetting 
 to mention " one of the finest sermons ever 
 heard in his life," to which it was his privilege 
 to listen during the Sabbath spent there, — at 
 St. Louis, he " embarked, for the first time," 
 on the bosom of the great " Father of Waters." 
 
 One reason for his making this tour was, to 
 ascertain his qualifications, or rather disquali- 
 fications, for a settlement at the West. With 
 this object steadily in view, he looked at the 
 country, its scenery, its resources, its inhabit- 
 ants, its pulpits, and its preachers. 
 
 The vast outlay in public works, the mag- 
 nificence of public buildings, most of which 
 were in an unfinished state, but all indicating 
 the " activity and thrift of an enterprising 
 people" were very astonishing to a staid, cau- 
 tious, eastern mind like his. While everything 
 
110 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 was "yet in embryo" and '■'■intensely new^ the 
 people were pushing matters as though large 
 cities were actually theirs in possession." 
 
 In regard to the "natural scenery of the 
 country," he was " sure that the long, unbroken, 
 verdant prairies, so beautiful to some, would, 
 in time, become wearisome to his eye, which 
 had been educated to love mountain scenery." 
 
 As to the pulpit, he was quite sure "he 
 should not suit a western audience." They 
 demanded a more direct ad Jiominem mode of 
 address than pervaded his written discourses. 
 
 At St. Anthony, where the river, " hemmed 
 in between its broken and precipitous banks, 
 furnishes an agreeable contrast to the uninter- 
 esting level everywhere around," he turned 
 his face homeward. 
 
 " Up to this time," he writes home, that " he 
 has never yet seen the place where he could 
 say he was a stranger in a strange land," but 
 everywhere he had found friends, who had 
 contributed to render his visit not only agree- 
 able but profitable. Even here, at this furthest 
 
WESTERN TOUR. 
 
 Ill 
 
 point, he was "greatly cheered" by finding a 
 classmate, whom he highly respected, " the last 
 one who, he should suppose, could accommo- 
 date himself to the rougli and tumUe of western 
 life," settled down to the practice of the law. 
 
 On his return, he stopped at different points 
 on the river, and took a different route on his 
 way home. 
 
 Among other important objects gained by 
 this journey, he gained this, — a settled convic- 
 tion that New England was the place for him ; 
 that his education, his tastes, his habits, all re- 
 quired the surroundings of New England so- 
 ciety, to enable him to pass life, not only 
 agreeably but usefully, and he " had returned," 
 as he said, " quite willing to settle down in a 
 New England pulpit." 
 
CHAPTEK VII. 
 
 CALL AND SETTLEMENT AT PLYMOUTH LETTERS 
 
 HOME DURING A PERIOD OP RELIGIOUS INTER- 
 EST AMONG HIS PEOPLE. 
 
 It has been stated, that before leaving home, 
 he preached one Sabbath in Plymouth, then des- 
 titute of a pastor. Immediately on his return, 
 he was invited to preach as a* candidate with 
 reference to a settlement there. This he de- 
 clined, but consented to preach a few Sabbaths 
 as a supply. In the mean time, he was balan- 
 cing the question in his own mind of a settle- 
 ment in one of two or three other places, 
 which had opened favorably before him, 
 and where, by encouraging a movement, he 
 might doubtless be eligibly located. But 
 before any decided action had been taken 
 in either case, a call came from the Plymouth 
 
 people under such circumstances that he could 
 6* 
 
114 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 not choose but listen to it. The indications of 
 Providence were so manifest as to leave him 
 scarcely any option in the case. 
 
 His answer accepting the call bears date 
 December 5th, 1857. Having decided on a 
 place of settlement, he set himself to -a careful 
 preparation for the performance of his labors 
 in that part of the vineyard, which seemed to 
 be the will of his Master that he should culti- 
 vate. This work he carried forward with 
 great seriousness. 
 
 His first inquiry respected his own personal 
 religion. His self-examination was deep and 
 thorough. The chamber where he had been 
 taught to lisp the first prayer of infancy, now 
 became the place of deep heart-searchings, and 
 earnest supplications, for divine light and guid- 
 ance. 
 
 He next reviewed the great and fundamental 
 doctrines of the Gospel. These he took up one 
 by one, and having examined each carefully 
 and prayerfully, formed them into a digest of 
 religious belief, and adopted this as his creed 
 
SETTLEMENT AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 115 
 
 to present before the council at his examin- 
 ation. 
 
 The time intervening between his acceptance 
 of the call and settlement, was a very profitable 
 season to him. Favored beyond most young 
 men who are looking forward to the ministry 
 in having the wise and judicious instruction, 
 and counsel, of a father who had been long a 
 faithful and successful preacher of the Gospel, 
 surrounded by intelligent Christian friends, 
 and a home furnished with all the means re- 
 quisite to the formation of the Christian as 
 well as of the ministerial character, and having 
 with all a mind that c"ould appreciate these 
 privileges, he could not but be well qualified 
 for his work. 
 
 With customary forethought, he provided 
 for himself a home among the people of his 
 future charge. His study was preeminently his 
 home. In securing this he was very happy. 
 The house in which it was located, having been 
 the residence of a loved and venerated pastor, 
 who was sleeping at no great distance among 
 
116 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 the people of his charge, the monumental 
 stone being visible, in passing to and from the 
 church where he ministered, serving to awaken 
 associations of the most hallowed and profitable 
 kind. On a mind like his, which regarded no- 
 thing as unimportant that could be made, 
 though in a small degree, to contribute to the 
 successful prosecution of the ministerial work, 
 they were not lost. 
 
 His introductory sermon was also in readi- 
 ness, so that when the important hour arrived, 
 the hour, to him, only second in solemnity to 
 the last tribunal, he had nothing to do but to 
 present himself before the council for examin- 
 ation. 
 
 With great self-possession, and w^ith real 
 modesty of mien and manner, the youthful 
 candidate sustained a strict and somewhat pro- 
 tracted examination, standing for full three 
 hours, and answering without note the ques- 
 tions usually asked on such occasions ; showing 
 by the readiness and pertinence of his answers 
 that he had made no superficial preparation 
 
SETTLEMENT AT PLYMOUTH. Ill 
 
 for that hour of trial, — and more than this, 
 that he regarded the office of the ministry as a 
 high and sacred calling, involving responsibili- 
 ties of no ordinary nature, — responsibilities to 
 be met and accounted for in another place, 
 and before another tribunal than the one then 
 and there gathered. 
 
 The ordination services were on the day 
 following, January 19th, 1858. As there 
 are no printed documents to refer to, these 
 must be passed over in silence, with the 
 simple notice that the sermon was by the fa- 
 ther of the youthful candidate, and was lis- 
 tened to, with tender interest by one hearei" 
 at least. 
 
 On the afternoon after his ordination, having 
 received the calls and congratulations of several 
 of the leading people of his congregation, he 
 took his father round and called on some who 
 were ill and could not attend the services, 
 thus early manifesting his interest in every in- 
 dividual of his new charge. It is pleasant to 
 reflect, that this interest suffered no abatement 
 
118 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 but steadily increased during the period of his 
 brief ministry. 
 
 A few sketches from his letters home will 
 serve to illustrate the spirit and temper with 
 which he entered upon and performed the new 
 and varied duties of his ministerial work. 
 
 To his mother: " January 2 2d, 1858. Well ! 
 the excitement of ordination is over, and I have 
 now fairly entered on the arduous and responsi- 
 ble duties of a settled minister. May God give 
 me wisdom and grace to meet them calmly as 
 they come, and to discharge them in humble 
 dependence on Him for his aid. * * * * 
 After the fatigue and excitement of the week, 
 I do not feel much like doing any great things. 
 I am heartily glad that my introductory ser- 
 mons are all prepared for the Sabbath. If 
 they were not, I might be thrown into a sad 
 state of trepidation, which would be very dis- 
 astrous at the outset of my ministry. * * * 
 
 February 9th, 1858. To his mother: "You 
 may have been surprised at not seeing me on 
 Monday as you expected, but now that I have 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 119 
 
 a parish to look after, you must expect to have 
 a great many such surprises. I had a funeral 
 to attend yesterday, which necessarily kept 
 me at home ; and as I am now exceedingly busy 
 in making the acquaintance of my parishioners, 
 and am expecting to have another funeral 
 to attend soon, I cannot tell when you will 
 see me. I find that the parish is much more 
 scattered than I supposed, but after I have 
 gone the rounds, and become better acquainted 
 with the localities, then the labor will be ren- 
 dered easier by systematizing matters. I have 
 a prayer-meeting to attend on Thursday even- 
 ing, and have started again the Sabbath-school 
 concert, which has not been regularly held, as 
 such, for a long time. I mean that the Sab- 
 bath-school shall have my first attention, and 
 also the monthly concert for missions." 
 
 "February 12th, 1858. * * * I rejoice 
 to hear, both from you and the religious pa- 
 pers, that there is so much interest in Hart- 
 ford, and especially among the young. I hope 
 it may increase. I wish we might see some 
 
120 EESKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 signs of awakening here. It seems to me very- 
 desirable now at the commencement of my 
 ministry. My prayer is, that I may not stand 
 in the way of such a work, and that the Lord 
 would give me more of a revival spirit than I 
 already possess, and qualify me for such a 
 service. There is interest all up and down the 
 Naugatuck valley, and on either side of us. 
 
 " I am preparing a sermon for the Sabbath 
 on the text : ' They that be wise shall shine as 
 the light,' etc. Subject: Incentives which 
 should lead professing Christians to put forth 
 personal and earnest efforts for the salvation 
 of their fellow men. May the Spirit make it 
 effectual in the awakening of Christians in this 
 place to the state of the impenitent around 
 them." * * * 
 
 "February 18th, 1858. * * * I hope 
 my mind may become less encumbered with 
 the duties of my parish. Bat I must confess 
 that I have yet to learn the art of throwing off 
 • care at the proper time, and taking things as 
 they come. I am always inclined to anticipate 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 121 
 
 duty, and there is indeed something comfort- 
 able in being able to survey a duty in the dis- 
 tance, and as it approaches think that you are 
 all prepared fo meet it. * * * 
 
 " I am writing a sermon on the text : ' Re- 
 store unto me the joy of thy salvation,' etc. I 
 hope to be able to bring it before the people 
 on the coming Sabbath, as it contains a subject 
 which seems peculiarly adap'ted to the present 
 state of things in the church. In a note which 
 I wrote this evening to one of the brethren, I 
 suggested the following plan, which I presume 
 they are discussing at the meeting, viz.: to 
 have a Committee appointed to call on the 
 different members of the church and ascertain 
 what is the state of religion, both with them- 
 selves and in their families. I hope the plan 
 may gain their approval and be productive of 
 good." * * * 
 
 "March Tth, 1858. * * * Sunday- 
 school concert this evening — very fully at- 
 tended. The Committee, who were appointed 
 to visit the different families, went their 
 
122 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 rounds and gave in very interesting reports, 
 last Wednesday afternoon. Some cases of in- 
 quiry have come to light, and I have appointed 
 Tuesday evening to see any individuals who 
 may wish to converse on the subject of re- 
 ligion. The appearance of things is encour- 
 aging. Some have already come out and 
 expressed a hope in Christ." * * * 
 
 "March 23d, 1858. * * * I. wish that 
 I could be present and attend some of the re- 
 ligious meetino^s of which I hear such interest- 
 ing accounts, and I have had serious thoughts 
 of doing so, but have about given them up, at 
 least for the present, because I have so much 
 to attend to. Though there is as yet here no 
 very wide-spread interest, still there are a few 
 cases of inquiry, and the state of things seems 
 to demand an increase of meetings. I ap- 
 pointed Monday evening to see any who might 
 wish to inquire, and at the same time the 
 brethren held a meeting in the vestry. There 
 were some six or seven who called on me for 
 religious conversation. I have had three such 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 123 
 
 meetings, and about the same number each 
 evening. The signs, I think, are encouraging. 
 I feel more than ever the need of divine aid in 
 all my services, and especially when directing 
 others in the way of eternal life. I have been 
 more fully persuaded than ever, of late, of the 
 utter inefficiency of means without the aid of 
 God's spirit, and have endeavored to throw my- 
 self more entirely on the divine sovereignty, on 
 which I love to dwell in my thoughts. * * * 
 
 "The preparation of a sermon for fast-day, 
 as well as for the coming Sabbath, aside from 
 the other services, will keep me very busy. 
 It has been thought best to appoint a meeting 
 of some kind on Sabbath evening, in order to 
 deepen any impression which may have been 
 made during the day. The young men have 
 started a Wednesday evening prayer-meet-s 
 ing — meeting for conference and prayer on 
 Thursday evening. There is also a female 
 prayer-meeting during the week." * * * 
 
 "April 6th, 1858. My dear Father: It 
 was my intention to have spent two or three 
 
124 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 days of this week at home, for the purpose of 
 attending the religious services in the city, I 
 have no doubt it would have been every way 
 profitable to me as I need a change. As the 
 interest, however, is deepening among my own 
 people, I feel that I cannot leave judiciously, 
 but must stay by to direct and counsel. I 
 have appointed Monday evening to see inquir- 
 ers. Last evening there were some fourteen 
 in my room, some of whom were under very 
 deep conviction. There have been some con- 
 versions, — one of a young man, who has been 
 considered a very hopeless case. But there is 
 one thing that distresses me, — the church are 
 not awake and active as they should be. Some 
 few are taking a noble stand, and are a real 
 help ; but the majority do not seem to realize 
 the fact, that the Spirit of the Lord is at work 
 on the hearts of the impenitent, and that all 
 they have to do is to put in the sickle. I am 
 willing to work in my own imperfect way just 
 as the Lord gives me strength, but I cannot do 
 everything. I spent all of Saturday, and a part 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 125 
 
 of yesterday and to-day in calling on those who 
 have been to converse with me on the subject 
 of religion. It taxes the body, but is pleasant 
 to the soul. To-day I feel nearly exhausted, 
 but I desire to lie like an instrument in the 
 hands of God, and it is my earnest prayer that 
 He will serve Himself with me just as He may 
 see fit. Sometimes I think I shall not live 
 very long, and this makes me want to live all 
 the faster. It seems strange to me that the 
 people here do not take hold more in earnest, 
 when there is such encouragement to labor. 
 The impenitent are peculiarly accessible. Yes- 
 terday I went up into the north part of the 
 town, — stopped at a house, and had a few mo- 
 ments' conversation with an individual, whom I 
 at once found ready to converse on the sub- 
 ject of religion, and very tender. This is only 
 one of many instances. But I have not time 
 nor strength to do all I would ; and I cannot 
 say that I am well, and I greatly desire that 
 the people should fto more, both to assist me, 
 and for their own good. Being new in the 
 
126 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 business, I do not know bow many meetings it 
 is wise to have. Our services are these: 
 Sunday evening, prayer-meeting ; Monday 
 evening, see inquirers ; Wednesday evening, 
 young people's meeting; Thursday evening, 
 conference and prayer. Do you think these 
 are sufficient ? There are some cases of inquiry 
 which sorely perplex me : one or two individ- 
 uals who have been a long time in the dark, 
 and get no light, and nothing I can say to 
 them seems to do them any good. Then, with 
 regard to those who indulge a hope, I am ex- 
 ceedingly afraid to say anything to encourage 
 them, for fear they may be mistaken, what do 
 you do with these ? what counsels do you think 
 it best to give to those just commencing a 
 religious life, and what exercises do you think 
 it best to conduct for their particular benefit ? 
 So many questions come up that I scarcely 
 know in what order to state them. I feel my 
 exceeding weakness and ignorance, oftentimes, 
 in conversing with and directing inquirers. It 
 is a fearful responsibility. Can you not come 
 
LETTERS. • 12Y 
 
 • 
 
 -out here and spend next Sabbath, or the Sab- 
 bath after, and one or two days, by getting a 
 supply for your own pulpit ? It would greatly 
 assist me, and awaken the people. It seems to 
 me that if we could have one or two heavy 
 blows struck just at this time, it would be just 
 what we need. You would then, by personal 
 observation, tell me what course you think I 
 had better pursue. 
 
 "But I cannot write more. Affectionate 
 regards to mother. Your affectionate son, 
 "E. J. Hawes." 
 
 This urgent request coming from an only 
 and tenderly loved son, the father could not 
 comply with, as he had more than he could 
 possibly do at home, there being an unusual 
 interest among his own people. In his be- 
 reaved hopes, the grieved child thus writes : 
 
 "April 14th, 1858. My dear Father: I 
 regretted, exceedingly, that you could not find 
 it convenient to be present here on Monday. 
 On the strength of what mother wrote, I ap- 
 
128 BRSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 • 
 
 pointed a meeting for Monday evening, without 
 stating definitely the form which the exercises 
 w^ould take, but merely mentioning that I ex- 
 pected you to be here and to bear some part 
 in the services. Some doubtless came expect- 
 ing to see you, and went away disappointed. 
 We, however, had a pleasant, and, I hope, a 
 profitable meeting, but it put an additional 
 burden on me, which I felt hardly able to 
 bear, as duties have increased much of late. 
 On Sunday, besides preaching during the 
 day, I attended a funeral in the afternoon, 
 where I made an address;* then married a 
 couple in church, after which I availed myself 
 of the audience in attendance to dispense the 
 Word once more in their hearing. (The meet- 
 ing of Monday evening has been mentioned.) 
 Tuesday evening I attended the Young Peo- 
 ple's meeting. This evening (Wednesday) I 
 have just been seeing inquirers; to-morrow 
 evening I attend the meeting for conference 
 and prayer. Besides, I feel it my duty to look 
 
 * The custom of tlie place required this. 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 129 
 
 continually after those under concern, by- 
 calling on them at their houses. Some one 
 must do the work, or else the interest, what 
 there is, will flag. I could wish that the mem- 
 bers of the church were more engaged. I do 
 what I can myself, and, after all, mourn that I 
 can do so little. 
 
 "There have been some interesting con- 
 versions, which have afforded me much encour- 
 agement, but I am annoyed with the fact, that 
 on the minds of some young men who have 
 been interested, there are evil influences 
 brought to bear from without, weakening their 
 serious impressions, and leading them to give 
 up the subject. It is discouraging to see a 
 person one evening seemingly near the king- 
 dom of heaven, and then to call on him a day 
 or two afterwards and find that instead of 
 gaining, he has lost ground, and that, through 
 the influence of some ungodly associate. It is 
 hard to be obliged to . work against these 
 counter influences. There have been a few 
 precious drops, but I desire to see a more 
 7 
 
130 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 copious shower like that which has blest a 
 town adjacent. I wish to see you very much 
 for the purpose of talking over matters and 
 things here. I thought if you could only come 
 and give us one or two of your stirring ser- 
 mons, the effect would be most salutary, but I 
 shall no t invite you again. I will only say, that 
 in ray weakness such a visit from you at this 
 time would be most acceptable and opportune. 
 It is a wonder to me that all the church are 
 not awake and active when the impenitent 
 seem so ready to be conversed with. But 
 whatever others may do, I shall labor for the 
 Lord just as long as He gives me strength. I 
 have come to the resolution to find out just 
 how every one stands on the subject of religion, 
 who is in the habit of attending my church, 
 and at least let him know that I feel deeply 
 for his salvation." 
 
 In justice to the father, it should be stated 
 here, that however grateful it would have 
 been to him to have aided his son, yet that his 
 own labors were so varied and increased by an 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 131 
 
 unusual interest in Ms own parish, it was im- 
 possible for him to do so. 
 
 "April 20th, 1858. My dear Mother: I 
 cannot forbear writing a line to you before re- 
 tiring. The Spirit of the Lord, I believe, is 
 present with us in power. This evening I 
 went into the young people's meeting, and was 
 at once awed at the solemnity which was mani- 
 fest. It has been my custom to run in just 
 before the close of this meeting, and make a 
 few remarks, concluding with a brief prayer. 
 Judge of my surprise when one, and then an- 
 other of those who had been known to be im- 
 penitent arose, and in a few, simple, direct 
 words declared their purpose to live for Christ. 
 Some of these had previously conversed with 
 me on the subject of religion, others had not. 
 Five of these are remarkable conversions ; 
 young men, who, perhaps, have been regarded 
 
 as far from the right way as any in P . 
 
 One of these was in ray room last evening, and 
 I shall never forget the look which he gave me 
 when I asked him how he felt, and his reply : 
 
132 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 "I have had for the last week just religion 
 enough to make me most dreadfully wretched." 
 But this evening he is calm and peaceful. 
 Prayer-meetings are being multiplied, — several 
 being held the same evening in different neigh- 
 borhoods. I wish I could attend them all, but 
 this of course is impossible. 
 
 " Christians are beginning to awake. Mr. 
 is really roused, and being a man of in- 
 fluence, gives me most essential aid. His wife, 
 also, is a most efficient helper. She is new in 
 the divine life. He has passed through a new 
 conversion of late, and is constantly going 
 round among the impenitent and laboring 
 with them. He is a man whom all love and 
 esteem, and who has, perhaps, a greater influ- 
 ence over all classes than any other man in 
 P . 
 
 "This is a glorious state of things for this 
 church, for its tendency will be to cement the 
 brethren still more closely in the bonds of love. 
 In the course of my pasti)ral visits, and I 
 have done a good deal of that of late, I am 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 133 
 
 continually meeting with those who are tender 
 on the subject of religion. It is interesting to 
 ask the question of an individual, how the mat- 
 ter stands with his soul ? and to find that the 
 Lord has already gone before you, and been at 
 work on that soul by his Spirit. Many such 
 cases have come to my notice in different parts 
 of the town. Some have come to me, whom I 
 have never seen or heard of before, and of 
 course did not know to be interested, and have 
 declared their faith in Christ. The matter has 
 been simply between them and Christ, with 
 their Bible as their guide. But I cannot write 
 more, though I have much to write. I said 
 this evening I would give a great deal if father 
 would run down here, just at this time, and 
 give me a week's assistance and counsel, for I 
 do not know how I am going to meet all the 
 labor which is to be devolved upon me. I do 
 not know what to do. It is pleasant to visit 
 and very necessary, but then it takes up my 
 time, and I find it somewhat dissipating to 
 thought. Of course I have no time for reading 
 
134 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 or study, and this alarms me, I am exceed- 
 ingly afraid, with the constant draughts made 
 on me, I shall run dry. 
 
 "Remember me in your prayers that my 
 strength fail not. I feel it a very solemn re- 
 sponsibility to attempt the guidance of souls. 
 I feel my utter impotency, and after I have 
 been seeing inquirers, feel sorely distressed and 
 dissatisfied with myself that I hare done so 
 poorly in pointing them to a Saviour. Many 
 cases perplex me exceedingly." 
 
 We will leave him here in the midst of this 
 period of religious interest, with simply remark- 
 ing, that he probably had less cause than usu- 
 ally falls to the lot of many pastors at the close 
 of a revival like that with which his people 
 were blest, to lament over those, who, having 
 begun the Christian course, turned back again 
 to the world, and thus gave evidence that they 
 never were truly converted. 
 
 His letters home during the two succeeding 
 years of his ministry, furnish ample evidence 
 of his tender, faithful watch and care of those 
 
REVIVAL AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 135 
 
 "over whom the Holy Ghost had made him 
 overseer," that he " might present them," 
 " evey^y one of them^'' " faultless before the 
 throne, in that day," when their souls should 
 be required at his hand. 
 
 He lived only for his people, — he labored 
 only for them. Their temporal as well as their 
 spiritual good lay near his heart. In all their 
 plans for the improvement of morals in the 
 place, he rendered very efficient aid, both by 
 his wise counsels and judicious efforts. Espe- 
 cially was this true in the cause of temperance, 
 in which he took a prominent part. At the 
 time of his death, he was interested in a plan 
 for the improvement of the grounds around his 
 church, — and much more deeply interested in 
 what at all times lay near his heart, but now 
 pressed with unusual weight upon it, the re- 
 viving of the interest in religion, which had 
 begun sadly to decline among his own people.* 
 During the winter following the revival among 
 his people, a certain amusement had been 
 
 * See a notice of this in the article by his friend Monteith. 
 
136 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 introduced whicli had a direct tendency'' to 
 draw off the attention of the young from 
 serious things. In this amusement, he learned 
 with pain, that two of the younger members of 
 his church had been drawn in to participate. 
 Wishing to prepare a sermon to meet the case, 
 he sent home for the best tracts on the subject. 
 The tracts w^ere sent, and with them this short 
 piece of advice from his father : " ' Ne\'er take 
 a horse by the hind foot while he is eating his 
 oats.' Wait till the excitement is over, and 
 then it will do for you to preach on the sub- 
 ject." This judicious advice was acted upon, 
 and thus much exciting and unprofitable dis- 
 cussion on the subject of dancing was avoided, 
 which would have been unhappy at the time, 
 as there was still some lingering seriousness in 
 the place. 
 
CHAPTER VIIL 
 
 BRIEF NOTICES OF HIS MINISTRY BY OTHERS 
 
 CHARACTERISTICS HIS PREACHING. 
 
 When it was in contemplation to prepare 
 something that might serve as a remembrancer 
 of what he was, and of what he did, a request 
 was made to his people in Plymouth to furnish 
 such items of interest in his ministry among 
 them, as they might wish to have preserved 
 for their own use, and also for the little ones 
 of his parish, who were too young to appreciate 
 his labors for their good, when he was taken 
 from them. 
 
 A few such items have been kindly furn- 
 ished. The first is from the youngest member 
 in his church — spoken of as the " lamb in his 
 flock." It will serve as a specimen of the 
 course he took with those converted under his 
 ministry. 
 
 * * "Some of us remember him as the 
 7* 
 
138 BRSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 best friend we ever had. His words first led 
 us to see our own sinfulness in the sight of a 
 Holy God, and to cry out ' what must we do to 
 he saved f Then, he pointed us to the '■Lamb 
 of God, that taheth away the sins of the world^ 
 and gently has he led us on ever since, — re- 
 proving us when he saw us going wrong, and 
 encouraging us to press onward in the straight 
 and narrow way." 
 
 A loved member of his church, a subject of 
 the revival, thus writes: 
 
 "When the Rev. E. J. Hawes was sent to 
 watch over us, we had been for nearly two 
 years without a shepherd, and were as sheep 
 going astray. 
 
 "The hand of God was plainly visible in 
 sending to us, at that important crisis, one 
 whom He had chosen, and peculiarly qualified 
 for our circumstances and needs. 
 
 " His ordination was an occasion of thrilling 
 interest to us as a people, and to our newly- 
 chosen pastor, as we have every reason to 
 believe. * * * 
 
HIS MIlSriSTRY. 
 
 139 
 
 "The two and a half years of his ministry 
 was a period of very great interest and profit 
 to this church and people, — made so, mainly, 
 by the consistent Christian influence and wise 
 guidance of our beloved pastor. During the 
 memorable winter and spring of 1858, when 
 the Spirit of Grod visited this parish, his labors 
 were very arduous and unremitting. Without 
 previous experience, he met all his calls, both 
 public and private, in the most prompt and 
 eflicient manner. 
 
 "On the first Sabbath in July, 1858, he re- 
 ceived into his church, by original profession, 
 thirty-eight members ; by letter, nine.* Our 
 young pastor then gave evidence of enjoying 
 to its fullest extent the pleasure of being about 
 his Master's business. Surrounded with these 
 seals of his ministry, he performed the services 
 with the most touching emotions of love, joy, 
 and humility. It had been his constant and 
 fervent prayer that the day might come when 
 many should be added to the church, of such 
 
 • The records show 63 added to the church during his ministry. 
 
140 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 as should be saved ; and now before his risen 
 Saviour, he presented them, and commended 
 them to his care and guidance, with a fervor 
 of spirit seldom witnessed. This seemed his 
 happiest daj^, — when he could behold the work 
 which had been accomplished for eternity, 
 through ' his feehle instrumentality^ and in an- 
 swer to his earnest and agonizing prayers. 
 
 " He was encouraged and strengthened, and 
 from that day there seemed to be in him a new 
 power, an inspiration as it were, which never 
 left him through the whole of his brief ministry. 
 
 "From the first of his settlement with us, 
 he had been steadily advancing in every Chris- 
 tian and ministerial grace ; but the year pre- 
 ceding his death was marked by a rich and 
 sudden development, not only in these gi-aces, 
 but also in mental power, which gave promise 
 of a life of great and increasing usefulness. 
 But the Great Head of the Church has ordered 
 it otherwise. While he has left with us his 
 bright example, his lovely character, the sweet 
 savor of his Christian virtues, to shine on our 
 
HIS MINISTRY. 
 
 141 
 
 pathway, he has taken the original, our lovely 
 and beloved pastor, to a place prepared for him 
 among those ' many mansions ' in his Father's 
 
 house above." — Mrs. G , Plymouth. 
 
 " Every one noticed his interest in the chil- 
 dren of his parish, — his earnest desire that they 
 might be early infolded in the Saviour's arms, 
 and their names written in the Lamb's book 
 of life." 
 
 Early in his ministry he wrote thus to his 
 mother: " I mean that the Sabbath-school shall 
 have my first attention." "I have started 
 again the Sabbath-school concert, which has 
 not been regularly held as such for a long 
 time." How well he carried out the above 
 "intentions" parents, whose children enjoyed 
 the benefit of his interest in the institution, 
 best can testify. That his own estimate of its 
 importance sujffered no diminution, is strik- 
 ingly illustrated in the following brief extract 
 from a sermon preached near the close of his 
 ministry : 
 
 " How important may be the influence, — ■ 
 
142 
 
 ERSKINE J. HATVES. 
 
 how fruitful in results tbe fidelity of an hum- 
 ble Sabbath-school teacher ! He cannot, even 
 in thought, take the measure of the possible 
 fruit of his devoted labors. With minds around 
 him, destined to act on other minds, and these 
 again on others still, till time itself shall be no 
 more, he seems almost to have other ages 
 placed in his hands to mould them as he will. 
 How unspeakable a privilege, — how responsible 
 a duty ! It is not merely the ti'aining of the 
 immortal minds before him, important, un- 
 speakably important as this work is, in which 
 he is engaged, but he is shaping the destiny, 
 perhaps, of thousands whom he will never meet 
 or know, till they meet him before the judg- 
 ment seat of God," 
 
 The following brief sketch from his friend 
 Monteith, was addressed to the mother of 
 the deceased, and bears date December, 1860 : 
 
 " My acquaintance with your son was short, 
 but familiar, if not intimate. We were side 
 by side in the ministry, as you know, for more 
 
HIS MINISTRY. 
 
 143 
 
 than two years. During that period, although 
 we were both busily engaged in our respectire 
 parishes, yet the contiguity of our fields, and 
 our nimble horses, often brought us together. 
 
 " The first time I saw Erskine, after I went 
 to Plymouth, he was engaged in preparing his 
 Thursday evening lecture, and whenever I met 
 him after this (except in our rides), he was 
 earnestly engaged in his Master's work. 
 
 " He always evinced an unquestionable love 
 for his work, and made it his first business to 
 secure the faithful discharge of his pulpit 
 duties. He often said he endeavored to make 
 every sermon as good as he could. On Mon- 
 day, I sometimes found him desponding. He 
 feared that he might have been inexact or 
 unfaithful in presenting the truth, the day 
 before. On such occasions, he used to say his 
 cure was to read one of Spurgeon's sermons, 
 and to reflect how the Lord had blessed per- 
 formances which made so little pretension to 
 style. His frequent quotations, in conversa- 
 tion, from Edwards, D wight, Bellamy, Hopkins, 
 
144 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 and from South and Witherspoon, showed how- 
 well he had acquainted himself with the stand- 
 ard theological writers. We have often spent 
 a most exhilarant half hour over some quaint 
 and pithy passage in Bishop South. When 
 we rode on horseback, his spirits were invaria- 
 bly joyous. With the most evident satisfac- 
 tion he would talk over his plans for future 
 preaching and labor ; and I have often remark- 
 ed his readiness in giving abstracts of the ser- 
 mons he had preached, or was about to preach. 
 
 " I never heard from him anything that 
 indicated an undue aspiration or ambition. 
 He never talked of his future, except as it was 
 connected with Plymouth. 
 
 " He was exceedingly attached to the great 
 truths in the Bible, the cardinal doctrines, 
 and the principal events in the life of our 
 Saviour. I used to think he displayed a great 
 deal of skill in the selection of fruitful and 
 striking texts. My people observed his rapid 
 growth from time to time, as we exchanged 
 pulpits. On one occasion, I remember hearing 
 
HIS MINISTRY. 
 
 145 
 
 one of my congi'egation say, * Brother Hawes 
 brings his sermons right up out of the good 
 book' 
 
 " A few months before his decease, he was 
 deeply interested in a new plan for District 
 Visitation, and Tract Distribution, which his 
 church were about to set in operation. One 
 afternoon he rode over to see me, and said, 
 ' Our church have been praying this afternoon 
 that the Lord would bless this work.' The 
 tears in his eyes showed how genuine and 
 intense his interest was. It was the only time 
 I ever saw him weep. 
 
 " In neatness of person, and of everything 
 that concerned his horse or his room, he ex- 
 celled, almost to a fault. 
 
 " When we went to Norwich together to 
 attend the meeting of the General Association, 
 I had an opportunity of seeing more of his 
 private life ; I remarked to a friend at the 
 time, that I never had seen a person of so 
 unexceptionable habits. 
 
 " The last time I met him before I was sum- 
 
146 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 moned to his deatli-bed, was when he reached 
 me on his return from the General Associa- 
 tion in June last. I think this was about 
 two weeks before his death. He drove up to 
 my door, and calling me out, said, ' I have a 
 text for you to preach on : It is the last 
 words of Theodore Parker. He says, I have 
 had great powers committed to me, but I have 
 only half used them. Take these words,' said 
 Erskine, ' and show the contrast between them, 
 and the faith of the dying Christian. In 
 Parker's words, there is a sentiment of self- 
 trust combined with disappointment, and no 
 hope for the future.' Little did I then think 
 I should so soon be called upon to see a 
 sermon preached on this very text, in the 
 triumphant death of your son. 
 
 " His death scene, ever calling up the solemn 
 words he addressed to me, the beautiful expres- 
 sions of filial love and gratitude he gave to 
 his mother, the affectionate remembrances of 
 his father, the sweet hymns he quoted, the 
 firm trust in the words of Scripture, and the 
 
CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 147 
 
 bright hope he exhibited, — this scene will 
 remain with me in all its vividness, till I am 
 called to meet him above. For having wit- 
 nessed all this, I trust, I am, by the ^ grace of 
 God, a better man, a better preacher. I shall 
 ever — with all who knew him — cherish the 
 memory of Erskine Hawes, with the sweetest 
 veneration. Upon whom shall his mantle fall ? 
 " Affectionately yours, 
 
 " John Monteith, Jr." 
 
 The mention of his unexceptionable habits 
 by his friend Monteith, suggests the propriety 
 of noticing some of his more prominent char- 
 acteristics. Among these, and the leading 
 one, was the beautiful consistency of his daily 
 life, his conduct and conversation, with his 
 Christian profession. 
 
 A friend, who knew him well from early 
 childhood, and who was often with him during 
 his summer excursions, remarks : " Wherever 
 he went, he took his religion with him. Wheth- 
 er among mountain solitudes, far from the 
 
148 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 busy haunts of man, or in places of more pub- 
 lic resort, where all classes are promiscuously 
 thrown together, in their summer gatherings, 
 it shone with the same steady light ; never 
 standing out obtrusively prominent at one 
 time, and then, at another, hidden or obscured 
 by worldliness or levity. It permeated his 
 whole character, lending a quiet grace to every- 
 thing he did and said. 
 
 His self-distrust has often been alluded to. 
 This led him to seek that wisdom which com- 
 eth from above, "Whenever objects of import- 
 ance were to be effected through his influence, 
 he never trusted to his own judgment, if he 
 could avail himself of the advice of those on 
 whose judgment he could rely. This was strik- 
 ingly true in his ministerial life. 
 
 A neighbor, an elder brother in the ministry, 
 whom he was in the habit of consulting, spoke 
 of this to his parents as something worthy of 
 notice, especially being a young minister; 
 such generally feeling better able to direct 
 themselves, than after they have had some 
 
CHARACTERISTICS. 
 
 149 
 
 years of experience. Then it was the more 
 noticeable on account of the position which 
 he occupied, — ^looked up to himself for advice, 
 by an intelligent people, by whom he was 
 regarded with a feeling bordering on venera- 
 tion, it certainly was a mark of humility, and 
 as it proved, of that humility, which the " Lord 
 delighteth to honor." 
 
 The lady with whom he boarded during the 
 first months of his ministry in Plymouth, says, 
 " He often came to me in any case where he 
 needed advice ; sometimes read his sermon to 
 me, saying as an apology, ' If my mother was 
 here, I should read it to her for criticism, and 
 in her absence, I must make a mother of you,' 
 and if, as in some cases, I suggested any altera- 
 tion which seemed best to me, as I had been 
 longer in the place, and seen more of his 
 parishioners than he had, he always with the 
 humility of a child accepted the suggestion." 
 
 • A parishionei', says of him, " In all his 
 intercourse with us, he was a happy combina- 
 tion of the minister and the man." 
 
150 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 His natural diffidence never entirely left 
 him. This, with his self-distrust, had rather 
 an embarrassing effect, throwing an air of re- 
 straint around him whenever he entered his 
 father's pulpit. It, however, entirely disap- 
 peared in his own. 
 
 The friend whose remarks are freely alluded 
 to, spoke of this. He says, " I could not but 
 notice the difference between his performances 
 in his own field of labor, ,and those I had 
 witnessed in his native place. In his own 
 pulpit he spoke unawed by the presence of 
 those venerable men, among whom he had 
 spent his childhood and youth, and by whom 
 he was surrounded when holding forth the 
 Word of Life, in his father's pulpit in Hart- 
 ford. Although there was never wanting 
 solemnity, and even dignity, yet there was 
 now, an ease and freedom of manner, arising 
 from the feeling, that, to his own people, he 
 was indeed the ambassador of God, to nego- 
 tiate with them on the high concerns of judg- 
 ment and eternity." 
 
HIS PREACHING. 
 
 151 
 
 Having spoken of his manner in tlie pulpit, 
 it seems proper to speak of the matter he dis- 
 pensed from that sacred place. Indeed, the 
 biography of a minister of the Gospel would be 
 incomplete, without some notice of that which 
 constituted his principal work. For this, the 
 subject of this memoir had made no superficial 
 preparation. He had devoted four years to 
 his theological studies, and had availed himself 
 of the best instruction that New England 
 afforded. 
 
 When he settled at Plymouth, although he 
 had something of a stock of sermons on hand, 
 he made it a rule to write one new one every 
 week. This he averaged during the brief 
 period of his ministry. 
 
 His texts were always chosen with reference 
 to some Christian doctrine or duty, and were 
 happily adapted to the truths he wished to 
 discuss and bring before his people. 
 
 His sermons were all carefully studied, fully 
 written out, and are replete with evangelical 
 truth. They were neither the speculations of 
 
152 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 the learned, nor the fancies of the ingenious, 
 but were " earnest and faithful exhibitions of 
 Christian truth and duty." Such was the testi- 
 mony of one* who heard him for several conse- 
 cutive Sabbaths, soon after he commenced 
 preaching. Another, who often heard him 
 after his settlement in Plymouth, said, "He 
 always brings his sermons right up out of the 
 good book." 
 
 The impressions made on these two individ- 
 uals, occujjying different positions in society, 
 are such as his preaching usually made on all 
 who heard him. 
 
 His preaching, for a young man, took a very 
 wide range, aiming to adapt the teachings of 
 the Bible, to the various characters, circumstan- 
 ces, and wants of his hearers. 
 
 He had no hobby, no favorite speculation or 
 theory on which he was continually dwelling, 
 but drawing his subjects directly from the 
 great fountain of truth, aimed so to discuss 
 them, as that they should be seen to be the 
 
 * The Hon. Judge Grennell, of Greenfield, Massachusetts. 
 
HIS PREACHING. 
 
 153 
 
 trutli of God, and not tlie feeble deductions of 
 human reason. 
 
 In this way, his preaching was owned and 
 blessed of God, to the accomplishment of the 
 great work of the Christian ministry, the con- 
 viction and conversion of sinners, and the 
 edification of Christians in the divine life. 
 
 As he approached his end, with the prospect 
 full in view, of soon standing before the Throne, 
 how did the anticipation magnify the responsi- 
 bility of the preacher's work ! — " The Gospel," 
 — " The Gospel in its simplicity" — " This and 
 this only," in its freedom from all taint of 
 human " philosophy" — how did it stand forth 
 in that solemn hour, as the alone divinely 
 appointed " means, for the salvation of a lost 
 world," the one grand theme for the preacher, 
 in the great work of the Christian ministry. 
 With such views, and in such circumstances, 
 how imperfect, how feeble, in his own estima- 
 tion, did his past attempts in preaching that 
 Gospel then appear. 
 
 At one time, near the close of his ministry, 
 
 8 
 
154 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 while endeavoring to encourage his people in 
 greater earnestness in Sabbath-school " instruc- 
 tion, his mind seemed to dart forward and 
 catch a glimpse of those glorious rewards 
 which await such as have been faithful in the 
 work of saving souls — when he broke forth in 
 words such as follow : 
 
 " Oh, how do all earthly rewards dwindle 
 into insignificance, compared with the rewards 
 which await those who have been instrumental 
 in saving souls from death, and bringing them 
 unto glory." 
 
 And what are those rewards ? 
 
 " They that be wise shall shine as fhe bright- 
 ness of the firmament, and they that turn many 
 to righteousness as the stars forever and ever. 
 Yea, long after those brilliant orbs have faded 
 and disappeared, they shall shine forth as the 
 sun in the kingdom of their Father." 
 
 May we not regard this as a prophetic inti- 
 mation of what he is now realizing in his own 
 happy experience ? 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 LAST VISIT HOME LAST MEETING AMONG HIS 
 
 PEOPLE. 
 
 DuEiNG the third week in June, 1860, he 
 attended the General Association of Connecticut 
 in Kockville, and his home being on the way, 
 he made it his stopping place in going and 
 returning. 
 
 He was very desirous of being in Hartford 
 the week following, that he might have the 
 pleasure of listening to Professor Hitchcock's 
 address, at the Anniversary of the Hartford 
 Female Seminary, but the approaching commu- 
 nion and preparatory services, in his own 
 church, required that he should be at home. 
 On taking leave, he said to his mother, " The 
 Fourth of July will soon be here, then I will 
 run home and spend the day with you." 
 
 On Tuesday evening, July 3d, hje was at his 
 
156 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 father's table in Hartford, in free and pleasant 
 converse with his parents. The morning of 
 the fourth was spent in making calls, when he 
 saw an unusual number of his own and his 
 father's friends, not only in their homes, but 
 also in the streets. The light, beaming counte- 
 nance, the elastic step, and cheerful salutation 
 of that morning, are often referred to. 
 
 After dinner, an old and valued friend, 
 once an inmate in the family,* came in, and 
 with him, the subject of this memoir enjoyed 
 a couple of hours of rich intercourse, in which 
 he drew from that learned biblical scholar, 
 much to aid him in his work. 
 
 At four o'clock he again walked out, and 
 again, as in the morning, saw a multitude of 
 friends. It seemed as if every one who had 
 known him had a glimpse of his countenance, 
 and a smile from him, on that last day when 
 he was seen in the streets of his native city. 
 
 Shortly after tea he retired to his chamber. 
 After he had been there some time, his mother 
 
 * Dr. Coleman. 
 
LAST VISIT HOME. 157 
 
 having sometliing slie wished to say to him, 
 went up, and on finding the door ajar, entered 
 without the usual signal. He evidently had 
 not noticed her entrance, but sat with closed 
 eyes, apparently in thoughtful meditation. His 
 mother approached, remarking that she saw he 
 was busy, and she would not interrupt him. 
 One sweet look and kind response : " Yes, mo- 
 ther, I am busy just now, I am preparing my 
 sermon for to-morrow evening ;" and again he 
 relapsed into the same thoughtful posture as 
 before ; and his mother left him in deep medi- 
 tation on the subject which was then occupying 
 his thoughts. The sun had just set, and the 
 softened light as it fell upon those placid fea- 
 tures revealed in them a striking likeness of 
 earlier days, clothing them again with infantile 
 loveliness. Whenever that scene occurs to 
 mind, another* is always associated with it, 
 when in that spot, perhaps that very chair, 
 "those soft eyes," and "that upturned coun- 
 
 * See earlier page. 
 
158 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 tenance" plead in silent, expressive eloquence, 
 an interest in a motlier's prayers. 
 
 On Thursday morning, at the close of the 
 family devotions, Erskine seated himself di- 
 rectly before his father, and commenced laying 
 open his plans for the instruction and improve- 
 ment of his people. One, a favorite one, and 
 the last, was this : to prepare a series of expos- 
 itory sermons, from incidents in the Life of 
 Chi'ist ; which though interesting and useful to 
 the congregation, assembled on the afternoon 
 of the Sabbath, should be adapted to aid in 
 Sabbath-school instruction. The sermons were 
 to be carefully studied, fully written out, and 
 enriched with such prophetic predictions as 
 should find their fulfillment in the portion 
 under consideration, with other illustrations 
 drawn from the surrounding scenery and cir- 
 cumstances at the time. His father entered 
 with great interest into his plan, and the son 
 with dehghted eagerness drank in the instruc- 
 tion that fell from his lips. At the close of the 
 interview, his father said : " My son, if you do 
 
LAST VISIT HOME. 
 
 159 
 
 this, you will have lived to accomplish a good 
 work." Whenever that scene comes back in 
 memory, the figure that rises before the mind 
 is that of some beautiful flower, opening its 
 petals to catch the morning beams, while yet 
 the dew is glistening in its cup. 
 
 After the cheerful " good-bye," and benedic- 
 tion of that morning, that loved voice was 
 never again heard under the parental roof. 
 
 A pile of sermon paper, separated from the 
 rest, and divided into compartments, each of 
 which contained the usual number of sheets 
 for a sermon, was found after his death in such 
 circumstances as led to the belief that it was 
 designed for the contemplated series. But 
 another hand was destined to trace other lines 
 across those sheets. Another sermon was to 
 be transcribed there, for the benefit of his 
 people, more effective than any which could 
 have flowed from his own pen, — a sermon, 
 of which, he, himself, was to be the theme,* — 
 an embodiment, as it were, of those Gospel 
 
 * His own memoir was wi'itten oa that paper. 
 
IGO ERSKINE J. HA WES. 
 
 principles so faitlifally set foi'th in the teach- 
 ings of their youthful pastor, ])ut now more 
 strikingly illustrated in his consistent Christian 
 life, and triumphant death. 
 
 That pile of hlaitle, sermons ! — How sugges- 
 tive ! — was there any premonition in the mind 
 of him who placed them there, that his work 
 was done ? Their presence there seemed to 
 indicate that he expected to live, and to fill 
 their pages with useful instruction for his peo- 
 ple, — and yet there was something in his ap- 
 pearance and manner, and indeed in his whole 
 intercourse with his parents, during that last 
 visit, which led his father to ask, as soon as his 
 son left that morning, "Did you notice any- 
 thing unusual in Erskine ? " 
 
 " I did," was the reply. 
 
 "He was not melancholy?" continued the 
 father. 
 
 " No," was the reply ; " he was never more 
 truly cheerful and happy in his life." 
 
 Was there not then a beaming forth of that 
 higher life within, which was so soon to be 
 
LAST VISIT HOME. 
 
 161 
 
 fi'eed from its earthly surroundings, and to find 
 full expansion in its native element above. 
 With the planning of those sermons, his pulpit 
 work was done. 
 
 His short but useful ministry is aptly set 
 forth, in some lines suggested by the reading 
 of the memoir of his sister.* 
 
 " Oh ! not by hours, or full, or few, 
 
 Our gracious Lord the toil computes ; 
 Some, ere exhales the morning dew, 
 
 At mom retire with sheaves and fruit. 
 And thus did [he] 
 
 Whose work 
 
 Was planned, commenced, and wrought, while we 
 
 Beheld it only as begun." 
 
 The reader, as did his parents, may feel 
 some interest in knowing what was the subject 
 which so absorbed the mind of the youthful 
 pastor, on that last evening at home. The 
 meeting was held, but that subject was not the 
 theme. The evening was stormy, and but few 
 present, and therefore that subject was deferred 
 
 until . Ah ! for how long ? " Until the 
 
 heavens be no more," " when he shall awake 
 
 * Rev. Wm. B. Tappan, on reading the Memoir of Mrs. M. E. V. L. 
 8* 
 
162 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWE3. 
 
 out of sleep" to meet Ms people, — not a few, 
 on a stormy evening, in that little Lecture- 
 room — ^but in that vast assembly — every one 
 of them shall be there. He to give account 
 how he preached, and they to give account 
 how they heard, that Gospel which will now 
 be found . to have been " a savor of life unto 
 life or of death unto death," to every one of 
 his hearei-s. 
 
 "The scripture selected by the pastor to 
 speak upon that evening, was a portion of the 
 11th Chapter of the Acts. The subject, 
 ' Steadfastness in the service of Christ.' His 
 remarks were more brief than usual, after 
 which he sat down, sajdng, ' Brethren, the 
 time is yours.' The meeting then took a con- 
 versational turn, the pastor and all the breth- 
 ren taking a part, asking questions, and giving 
 answers. Our pastor seemed pleased with this, 
 and remained in the desk, protracting the 
 meeting, quite beyond the usual hour. Oh, 
 had we suspected this was to be our last meet- 
 ing on earth, how gladly would we have 
 
THE LAST MEETING. 163 
 
 remained, ' even until the break of day,' as 
 did the Elders of Ephesus in the days of Paul, 
 listening to the sweet and precious words that 
 fell from his lips. 
 
 " In closing, he read the following hymn, and 
 after looking it over, said, ' There does not 
 seem to be any place to divide it, let us sing 
 the whole.' It seems to have been one of his 
 favorites, as he had read it so often as to 
 attract the notice of myself and others. It is 
 a sweet hymn, and the associations connected 
 with it will never be forgotten. It is proba- 
 bly familiar to you, yet I wish to transcribe 
 it all. 
 
 HYMN. 
 
 (Temple Melodies, Hymn 92.) 
 God of my life, througli all my days, 
 I'll tune the grateful notes of praise ; 
 The song shall -vyake with opening light, 
 And warble to the silent night. 
 
 When anxious cares would break my rest, 
 And griefs would tear my throbbing breast, 
 The notes of praise ascending high 
 Shall check the murmur and the sigh. 
 
164 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 "SVhen death o'er nature shall prevail, 
 And all the powers of language fail, 
 Joy through my swimming eyes shall break. 
 And mean the thanks I cannot speak. 
 
 But, oh ! when that last conflict's o'er, 
 And I am chained to earth no more, 
 With what glad accents shall I rise. 
 To join the music of the skies. 
 
 Then shall I learn the exalted strains, " 
 That echo through the heavenly plains. 
 And emulate, with joy unknown. 
 
 The glowing seraphs round the throne. 
 
 " I think he could have selected nothing more 
 appropriate just before his entrance through the 
 eternal gate, to join the innumerable company 
 of angels, the general assembly and church of 
 the first-born, and the spirits of the just made 
 perfect. Farewell, beloved Pastor ! How- 
 dear thou wast, and art now to us all ! Is 
 there not very much to comfort you in the 
 triumphant death of such a son ?* 
 
 A few additional remarks made by the 
 pastor at that last meeting, seem strikingly 
 
 * Communicated by one wLo was then present. 
 
THE LAST MEETING. 
 
 165 
 
 prophetic of the change but just before him. 
 " He talked of life and death, of Jesus and 
 of Heaven. How well do I remember his 
 tone, and the expression of his countenance, 
 as he said, ' Now we see through a glass darkly, 
 but then we shall know, even as we are 
 known.' "* 
 
 We have now carried him through the last 
 evening of health and vigor ; the next found 
 him prostrate, suffering untold agony, from 
 the fell blow which in a few hours severed 
 him from life and friends forever. 
 
 * Communicated by a young person present. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 FATAL ACCIDENT — CLOSma SCENES. 
 
 On Friday morning (the 6tli of July, 1860), 
 the subject of this memoir rose and addressed 
 himself to the duties of the day with unusual 
 alacrity and cheerfulness. Having finished his 
 preparation for the Sabbath, in the afternoon 
 (as was his wont) he took his accustomed ride, 
 connecting with it a call on one of his most 
 distant parishioners. The ground on which 
 the house stood rose somewhat abruptly from 
 the road, and the only level spot on which the 
 horse could stand was just in front of some 
 bars which secured the carriage entrance to the 
 back yard. On alighting, the strap was buckled 
 around one of these bars. The horse had re- 
 cently manifested a propensity to pull upon his 
 halter, and in doing so, at the present time, 
 
168 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 drew out the bar around which the strap was 
 clasped. He was then unhitched and fastened 
 to the gate-post. The ascent here was abrupt, 
 and the only way in which the horse could 
 stand was nearly on a parallel with the fence, 
 and his master being between hiin and the fence, 
 was obliged to pass quite around him in reach- 
 ing the gate. In doing this, he gave the ani- 
 mal a light cut with the riding-stick on the 
 hind legs, merely a pat, that he might move 
 out of the way, so that he could pass to the 
 gate. Quicker than thought, the feet of tKe 
 animal were thrown out, but he was sufficiently 
 removed from those to escape the hoofs. A 
 sweep across the lower part of the abdomen, 
 with the gambrel joint, did the fatal work. 
 He was thrown down the embankment and 
 rolled over into the road, but soon rose and 
 walked into the house. The male members 
 were all absent, and it was some time before 
 any one of them could be found and a physi- 
 cian called. At first, he was not aware of the 
 extent of the injury, but soon intense internal 
 
FATAL ACCIDENT. 
 
 169 
 
 agony revealed its fatal nature.* Chloroform 
 was freely administered as soon as possible, but 
 it was a long time before lie could be brought 
 under its influence, so as to experience any sen- 
 sible relief from his terrible sufferings. The 
 thought of that night almost paralyzes the hand 
 that holds the pen. He was some two miles 
 from home, — and some hours must elapse be- 
 fore friends could reach him from the village. 
 In the morning he was so far relieved as to be 
 moved home. Laid upon his own bed, fi^om 
 which he could look into his pleasant study, 
 his feelings became quite cheerful, and deluded 
 his friends into the belief that he would yet 
 come back into life, and again perform the du- 
 ties of the pastor among them. Even he, him- 
 self, had this hope. He requested his friends 
 to meet and return thanks for his preservation 
 irom instant death. The message to his parents 
 contained no request for their immediate pres- 
 ence, but stated that they should be kept in- 
 
 * A post mortpm examination showed tlmt no human skill could 
 have averted the fatal issue. 
 
170 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 formed of his situation, and requested tliat if 
 possible a minister might be sent out to supply 
 their son's pulpit. It was Saturday. The 
 father had his own pulpit to supply, and as there 
 appeared no immediate urgency, he thought in 
 the circumstances that it would be safe to wait 
 until Monday morning. In the mean time a 
 messenger could- be sent, if necessary, the next 
 day. But a few minutes, however, had elapsed 
 ere the mother was on her way, and in a couple 
 of houi-s was by the bed-side of her son. His 
 voice was cheerful as he welcomed her; but 
 what a change had come over that countenance, 
 which, as it were, but yesterday, she had seen 
 buoyant with health and beaming with cheer- 
 fulness! Lest her son should perceive the 
 shock which his appearance had given her, 
 cheering herself, she said, "My son, I have 
 come to stay with you until, you are well 
 enough to be taken home." The quick re- 
 sponse was, " This is my home ; I shan't leave 
 here." 
 
 Immediately the friend who was by him, 
 
FATAL ACCIDENT. 
 
 171 
 
 commenced telling his mother how the thing 
 had happened. Her son had thought she might 
 
 ask him, and had requested Mr, L to do it 
 
 for him. He commenced, saying, " Mr. Hawes 
 says he don't know how he happened to do 
 that, he had never done it before," alluding to 
 the stroke with the riding-stick. And well he 
 might have said this, as from his childhood he 
 had been remarkable for his caution. The how 
 was the last thing in that mother's mind then . 
 The thing was done, — the fatal result was but 
 too visible. But however painful the circum- 
 stances, not one. of these had taken place inde- 
 pendently of an all-wise and overruling Prov- 
 idence. 
 
 As the family physician was not at hand, 
 another was taken in during the hasty ride to 
 the cars, and the person who should bring him 
 to Hartford in the morning, could take back 
 the father, if necessary. 
 
 On their arrival at the scene of suffering, 
 the attending physician came in. Having 
 spent a few moments with the patient, the two 
 
172 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 retired to the study. On entering this, the 
 one from Hartford remarked, " What a pleasant 
 study, this is. It looks as if it could write a 
 sennon itself I feel as if I could almost write 
 a sermon here." The patient immediately 
 
 called out in a clear, cheerful voice, " Dr. , 
 
 I wish you would write a sermon, and stay 
 an d preach it to my people to-morrow." There 
 was something so natural, so like perfect 
 health in the tone and accent of the voice, 
 that the pleasing illusion stole over the mind, 
 " he will yet live, he will not die now." But 
 before another sun had set, .that voice was 
 forever hushed in death. Even the attending 
 physician, although gi*eatly fearing a fatal 
 issue, was evidently not anticipating so speedy 
 a one. The patient was so calm, so comfort- 
 able, and even cheerfiil, that it was thought 
 there could be no internal injury sufficient of 
 itself to cause death. The thing most feared, 
 and to be guarded against, was the inflammatory 
 process; a few days would decide the case. 
 At the doctor's suggestion, a' competent nurse 
 
HIS SUFFERINGS. 
 
 173 
 
 was secured for a few days, and a skillful 
 watcher for tlie night. 
 
 Everything being arranged, and the state of 
 the patient seeming so comfortable, he was 
 left with the watcher, and his mother retired 
 to her room, but soon a note of distress drew 
 her to his bedside, and although all the means 
 and appliances that medical skill could devise 
 were faithfully used, yet it was near morning 
 before the poor sufferer was in any sense re- 
 lieved. 
 
 Not a murmur escaped his lips. Not a 
 regret for anything that had taken place. Only 
 once did he express a wish that anything was 
 different. From the first, his thoughts had 
 often reverted, as it was natural they should, 
 to his Hartford physician. Once during the 
 night, when his mother and the watcher hav- 
 ing used all the prescribed remedies and appli- 
 ances without producing any sensible diminu- 
 tion of the terrible agony, the watcher having 
 gone to procure something needed ; he said to 
 his mother, " I wish Dr. was here, he 
 
174 ERSKINB J, HAWES. 
 
 would surely think of something to relieve 
 this pain." As he was able to speak, he would 
 suggest with great calmness and judgment 
 what should be done. But the dry, husky 
 breathing, the impeded utterance, a^nd fatal 
 hiccough whenever he attempted to swallow, 
 were but too sure indications that death was 
 doing its work. He spoke once of the night 
 preceding ; said to his mother, " he never knew 
 what pain was till then." 
 
 Towards morning the sufferer slept — if that 
 state of partial unconsciousness in which he 
 lay couM have been called sleep. 
 
 His mother retired for a short time to her 
 room. When she returned, she found her son 
 partially raised up in the bed, supported, by 
 pillows. He had arranged to be got up, and 
 had ordered clean changes to be brought in. 
 As his mother entered, he said, " I shall be got 
 uj) and changed soon." She approached the 
 bed, and taking his hand, said, " My son, I 
 think you cannot be got up to-day." The 
 doctor followed and reiterated the same, cOs he 
 
CLOSING SCENES. 
 
 1Y5 
 
 looked upon the pale visage, and heard the 
 weak voice of the patient. He gently bowed 
 his head in assent, and then called the atten- 
 tion of his mother to the perspiration which 
 was covering him. Alluding to this, he said, 
 " I don't know whether it is good plainly- 
 intimating that he more than suspected the 
 nature of the symptom. The agony had sub- 
 sided, but it was doubtless owing to the fact, 
 that vitality had ceased in the wounded part. 
 The pulse was fast vanishing. Eestoratives 
 were given, but the difficulty of swallowing 
 on account of the hiccough, prevented his 
 receiving much into the system. Great anxiety 
 was manifested by the physician and others, 
 for the ari'ival of the father. No telegraph 
 offices were open, and there was no hope that 
 the patient could survive until the messenger, 
 who was on his way to Hartford with the phy- 
 sician, should return. 
 
 The moisture which covered him, became 
 cold and clammy. Stimulants failed to raise 
 the feeble pulse. No efforts could restore 
 
176 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 warmth. Everytliing indicated the hasty- 
 strides with which death was approaching. 
 
 It is impossible to recall, with anything like 
 accuracy, the order in which the painful events 
 occurred, as also the last rema^'ks, exhortations, 
 and messages, of the youthful dying pastor, 
 during those last brief hours into which so ^ 
 much of effort, and anxiety, and suffering were 
 crowded. But whenever ^the scene occurs, one 
 fact rises before the mind, — ^the anxiety and 
 efforts of the attending physician, to preserve 
 vitality in the dying patient until the arrival 
 of his father. How often his watch was con- 
 sulted, and also the pulse of the patient, as 
 one stimulant after another, or some nutritious 
 restorative was gently given, as the dying one 
 could take them in ! 
 
 It was past the hour of noon. The painful 
 intelligence had spread over the village. 
 Friends were gathering. He asked for his 
 brother ministers in the neighborhood. Some- 
 were then present. Among these, was one 
 whom he • loved as a brother, the Rev. Mr. 
 
CLOSING SCENES. 
 
 177 
 
 Monteith. Shocked by the state in which he 
 found his friend, and overcome by his emotions, 
 he wept. Erskine asked him to pray with 
 him. He knelt by the bedside, and with 
 great earnestness and much feeling, com- 
 mended his dying friend to the Saviour, in 
 this, his conflict with the last enemy. From 
 this prayer, the dying one took in, what had 
 not been intimated to him in words, that death 
 was near. Immediately he asked, " Would it 
 be wrong for me to ask you to pray for my 
 life?" " Certainly not," said his mother. Then 
 he said, " Will some of you retire and do so ?" 
 As a few were leaving the room for this pur- 
 pose, he raised his voice, and said in a clear 
 and emphatic tone, " I want to live, that I 
 may glorify God better in my ministry — I 
 want to live for my people — I want to live for 
 my parents." 
 
 Few and broken were the petitions offered. 
 God was signifying his will so plainly, that it 
 seemed to be asking for a miracle, to ask for 
 his life. When the few returned to the room, 
 9 
 
178 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 lie was alone with his friend Monteith, and was 
 repeating a stanza in the hymn commencing : 
 
 " Rock of Ages cleft for me." 
 
 There was a momentary silence, when his mo- 
 ther repeated the last stanza entire, to which 
 he listened with pleased and earnest attention. 
 
 " While I draw this fleeting breath, 
 When my eyelids close in death, 
 When I rise to worlds unknown. 
 And behold Thee on thy thi-one, 
 Rock of Ages ! cleft for me, 
 Let me hide myself in Thee ! " 
 
 Mr. Monteith has kindly furnished the sub- 
 stance of the conversation between himself and 
 his dying friend at this time. He says : "After 
 the others had left the room, I waited a little 
 to see if he would try to listen to the prayers, 
 but finding him a little agitated, I said, you 
 have perfect confidence in the ' Eock of Ages ?' 
 'O, yes,' said he, and added: '-Cleft for me' 
 
 "He seemed a little troubled for breath, 
 and so I began each line, and he finished, with 
 the exception of the last two, which he repeated 
 
CLOSING SCENES. 
 
 179 
 
 alone with evident satisfaction. ' Be of sin the 
 perfect cure — ^perfect cure,' said he — 'perfect 
 cure. How blessed that is.' 
 
 " He had hardly let go my hand since the 
 first. Now he grasped it firmly, and said, ' Oh ! 
 Monteith, remember it, — understand that I say 
 it from this bed, — we ministers have not 
 preached the Gospel in its simplicity. There 
 has been my error. I want you to understand 
 it that I say it from this bed : — Ihe Gospel is 
 Go(Fs appointed means for the salvation of the 
 soul — philosophy wonH do it.'' I will just say, 
 here, that I never had words addressed to me 
 with such emphasis, — they seemed to come 
 from the other world. 
 
 "I'said to him, 'our hope is secure, for it is 
 an anchor to the soul, and it entereth into that 
 within the veil, whither Jesus our forerunner 
 hath gone.' 
 
 " ' Ah ! ' he replied, ' that is not all, — it is sure 
 and steadfast;'' — and he repeated this phrase 
 several times. 
 
 " About this time, I think. Dr. Salisbury felt 
 
180 ■ ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 his pulse, and said in a solemn tone : ' Mr. 
 Hawes, your time is short, — your race is almost 
 run.' He looked at Dr. S. with an eye steadfast, 
 and that gave evidence of a momentary strug- 
 gle, and then his face was as bright as an 
 angel's. A change in the activity of his mind, 
 as well as in his conversation, had been appa- 
 rent for some time. Now his mother asked 
 him if he had any messages to leave for his 
 father. ' O, tell father that I love him. Ask 
 him to forgive me for all the hasty words I 
 have spoken ; you know I love you, dear mo- 
 ther, and always have.' " 
 
 The following notices are by another hand. 
 
 " While he was saying these things, he had 
 leaned partly over to his mother, and was hold- 
 ing his chest, as if the emotions within were 
 greater than he could bear. When laid back 
 upon the pillow, looking upward, he said, 'Z 
 want to see father.^ 
 
 " Now the doctor wanted him to take some 
 wine. His mother, to encom-age him in his 
 effort to swallow it, and in her anxiety to pre- 
 
CLOSING SCENES. 181 
 
 serve vitality till his father should arrive, said, 
 ' The last you took told perceptibly on your 
 pulse.' Taking her hand in his, and looking 
 her earnestly in the face, he said, ' Mother, I 
 don't want you to do anything to infringe on 
 the purposes of God.' 
 
 " He called for brother Averill and brother 
 Tracy, and they were sent for. When the 
 Kev, Mr. Averill came in, he asked him to 
 pray that thi'i might be sanctified to his people 
 and his parents ; and that the latter might be 
 supported under it. 
 
 " As Mr. Averill closed, in a very fervent and 
 solemn manner, he uttered the following peti- 
 tion : ' I pray God will accompany the truth 
 that has been dispensed here for the last three 
 years with his Holy Spirit ; that it may be 
 effectual in the conversion of those to whom it 
 was administered.' 
 
 "A petition that he offered previous to this, 
 and soon after it was told him that he could 
 not live, was an exceedingly impressive one : 
 
 " ' I pray God that this may be blessed to 
 
182 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 the salvation of every member of this fam- 
 
 " The family where he boarded had been ex- 
 ceedingly kind to him. They had made him as 
 comfortable as he could have been in his 
 father's house. But they were none of them 
 professors of religion. He felt a very deep 
 interest in their spiritual welfare, had often 
 spoken of their kindness to him, to his mother, 
 and now this last petition for them, went up 
 to the mercy-seat, accompanied with his whole 
 heart. 
 
 " It became necessary for his mother to resign 
 her position for a short time at his bedside, in 
 order that something might be done for him, 
 by stronger hands than hers. She placed her- 
 self at the foot of the bed, so as not to lose 
 sight of his countenance. Soon his eyes met 
 hers. Fixing them full upon her, with a look 
 of indescribable benignity and affection, he 
 said, ' Mother, I want you to forgive me, and 
 I want you to ask father to forgive me, for all 
 the pain I have occasioned you, for all my 
 
CLOSING SCENES. 
 
 183 
 
 hasty words.' His mother, replied, ' You have 
 been a good son, there is nothing to- forgive, 
 but if you think there is anything, you are 
 freely forgiven.' How everything earthly 
 seemed annihilated in that moment. The 
 mother stood alone with her son, the last tri- 
 bunal but just before them — she felt that all 
 must be settled up now. ' My son,' she said, ' I 
 am reminded that I may have something to 
 ask of you ; and now I will ask you to forgive 
 me all my unfaithfulness — all my imperfections, 
 in your Christian training.' After saying some 
 kind things in reply, her son continued, ' we 
 all have great imperfections, great sins, but the 
 " blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin," 
 the righteousness of Christ is sufficient for us 
 all ; here I rest, here is my hope ; the right- 
 eousness of Christ imputed to us. Imputed, 
 that is a good word, I like it.' There was a 
 meaning in this last expression, which those 
 by, who may have heard it, could not take in. 
 The doctrine of imputation had been discussed 
 with much interest, by Erskine and his father. 
 
184 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 and it was doubtless in reference to conversa- 
 tions on tliis subject, when his mother had 
 taken a part, that her son now said, ' Imputed, 
 that is a good word, I like it.' 
 
 " Changing the theme, he said, ' Mother^ you 
 and father have often been in the furnace, but 
 I want you to feel that I am one with you.' Here 
 followed some tender remarks respecting the 
 fellowship of Christians in suffering, with a refer- 
 ence to lighten the affliction coming upon his 
 parents, by an assurance that he was enduring 
 in anticipation, what they would suffer when 
 he should be gone. 
 
 " Here, to give a different direction to his 
 thoughts, his mother said, ' My son, you are 
 the Lord's, we gave you to Him.' 
 
 " ' Yes,' said he, ' and how blessed it is to 
 be the Lord's.' 
 
 " The crowd of friends that had gathered, 
 had thronged around his bed. His mother 
 was unable to find a place there. His friend 
 Monteith stood between her and her son. 
 Catching the eager inquh-y, ' What is that pas- 
 
CLOSING SCENES. 
 
 185 
 
 sage, " We are come unto the city of the liv- 
 ing God, the heavenly Jerusalem," ' his mother 
 asked for a Bible. One was handed her. She 
 opened to the twelfth chapter of Hebrews, 
 and read, ' For ye are not come unto the mount.' 
 ' Not there,' he said, ' farther on.' He then 
 said something which indicated haste, which 
 his mother did not distinctly hear, in her 
 eagerness to catch the right passage, but which 
 those who stood nearest him said was, ' Hurry 
 on to the Prospects.' 
 
 " The last syllables were passing his lips, as 
 she commenced, ' But ye are come unto Mount 
 Zion.' 
 
 "'There,' said he, 'that's it.' He then 
 took it up and finished it himself. 
 
 " Hebrews xii. 22-24, ' But ye are come unto 
 Mount Zion, and unto the city of the living 
 God, the heavenly Jerusalem, to an innumera- 
 ble company of angels, to the general assembly 
 and church of the first-born, which are written 
 in heaven, to God the Judge of all, to the 
 
 spirits of the just, made perfect, to Jesus, the 
 9* 
 
186 
 
 ERSKINB J. HAWES. 
 
 Mediator of the new covenant, to the blood of 
 sprinkling ' 
 
 " Such were the last utterances from lips 
 about to be sealed in death (rather in a more 
 abstract form, than as quoted above) and from 
 the lips of one, who, as we trust, was about to 
 be introduced to that glorious assembly. 
 
 " The doctor called for more air. The crowd 
 dispersed. Only his mother, the physician, 
 and one or two friends were left in the room. 
 Instantly he sprang forward in the bed, and 
 throwing out his arms on either side, and look- 
 ing earnestly around, but with an expression 
 which indicated that he saw nothing within 
 the range of his vision, exclaimed, ' I want to 
 get up, I want to look about.' The doctor's 
 arms were instantly around him. ' Mr. Hawes, 
 we will raise you up in the bed, you can sit 
 up and look around here.' Pillows were placed, 
 his head fell forward upon his breast. "WTien 
 laid back upon the pillows his eyes were set, 
 and all appeared motionless, as if death had 
 already done its last work. But, not so. The 
 
HIS DEATH. 
 
 187 
 
 'dying strife' had but just commenced. The 
 first groan sent his mother backward a little 
 space ; but soon recovering herself, she was 
 again by the bed of death. Every breath was 
 now a groan — and the fearful sound was heard 
 distinctly for some distance without. As soon 
 as his mother had sufficiently recovered herself, 
 she lifted the covering from his arm, which lay 
 motionless by his side. It was livid and cold. 
 Perceiving the fingers to curl slightly, as if 
 cramped, she took the hand in hers, and at- 
 tempted to straighten and warm it. Immedi- 
 ately he raised it, and commenced rubbing his 
 breast. His mother now did this for him ; 
 but whenever she ceased for an instant, in 
 order to take a dry part of the cloth she was 
 using, for the perspiration was profuse, he im- 
 mediately raised his own hand and continued 
 the rubbing until she commenced again. He 
 would then lay his hand down as intelligently 
 as in health. Thinking he might possibly 
 hear, his mother repeated portions of Scripture : 
 only one is remembered. Taking the lead 
 
188 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 from his utterances, she repeated, ' They have 
 washed their robes, and made them white in 
 the blood of the Lamb.' 
 
 " At length, nature worn out and exhausted, 
 the painful groans ceased. The breath became 
 soft as an infant's. Then the purling sound 
 of the purple current within, and one soft rush 
 of breath, gave note that the deathless tenant 
 had escaped its clayey tenement, and all was 
 repose. 
 
 " Those eyes out of which he had looked so 
 lovingly, on parents and friends, and through 
 which so much of the beauty and grandeur of 
 these lower works of God had entered, to 
 gladden and to adorn the immortal mind 
 within, and those lips, through which so much 
 of God's saving truth had been proclaimed to 
 dying men, now sealed and rayless in death, 
 were closed by loving hands. 
 
 " ' So he giveth his beloved sleep.' " 
 
 The next view his mother had of him, he 
 was sleeping peacefully in the centre of that 
 
HIS DEATH. 
 
 189 
 
 " pleasant study," on the table at which he had 
 daily sat and meditated on those solemn and 
 weighty truths, of which he was now experi- 
 encing the reality. Only the Sabbath previous, 
 his theme had been, "The Transfiguration." 
 Was he not now beholding that glorious vision 
 realized ? Not as then, dimly shadowed forth 
 to the eye of faith, but amidst the ineffable 
 brightness of heaven. 
 
 There he lay, so calm, so peaceful, as if he 
 were only " taking of rest in sleep." " Lord, if 
 he sleep, he shall do well." Could not this 
 have been said of the sleeper there, with a 
 deeper meaning, than when uttered by the 
 disciples to their Master, respecting one whom 
 he loved ! It is matter of grateful recognition 
 to the mother of the deceased, that, that last 
 looh, always takes precedence of the painful 
 one at the same hour of the afternoon previous, 
 whenever her mind turns to the death of her 
 son, 
 
 A veil must be drawn over the scene on the 
 arrival of the father. Doctors Knight and 
 
190 BRSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 Salisbury were there to receive him, but human 
 sympathy was powerless then. Having assisted 
 him into the house, they seated themselves in 
 silence by his side. That most appropriate 
 and expressive act was appreciated, and after- 
 wards spoken of, by the stricken father. The 
 following morning his parents returned to their 
 home in Hartford. 
 
 It had been arranged that the funeral services 
 should be attended in the church at Plymouth, 
 on the Tuesday following, — and the same in 
 his father's church in Hartford, on Wednesday 
 morning. 
 
 On Tuesday evening, at six o'clock, his re- 
 mains were brought home to his father's house 
 in Hartford, accompanied by the delegation 
 fi-om his father's church, who had attended the 
 funeral obsequies in Plpnouth, and also a few 
 of the Plymouth people, among whom was his 
 friend Monteith. 
 
 Another hand than the writer's could better 
 describe those funeral solemnities in that 
 church, where the deceased lay, on the very 
 
HIS FUNERAL. 
 
 191 
 
 spot wtere twelve years before lie had stood, 
 and in the freshness and vigor of youth, had 
 devoted himself in solemn covenant to God; 
 and just beneath the font, with whose baptis- 
 mal waters, his parents, in early infancy, had 
 done for him the* same. 
 
 A large delegation of the church in Plymouth 
 were present, and mingled their sympathies 
 with the parents and friends of their youthful, 
 deceased pastor. 
 
 Addresses were made by the ministers with 
 whom he had associated in Plymouth and vi- 
 cinity, amoug whom were his friend Mr. Mon- 
 teith, Eev. Mr. Averill, and Mr. Tracy. Mr. 
 Webber, also, pastor of the North Church, in 
 Hartford, and who had known him in the The- 
 ological Seminary in Andover, gave a very 
 pleasant tribute to his memory. 
 
 The prayers, the hymns, the music, were of 
 the most appropriate character. The first hymn, 
 
 " Peace, 'tis the Lord Jehovah's hand," 
 
 had often soothed the father's grief, as one 
 
192 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 after another of his children had been taken 
 from him ; and now it appropriately came in 
 as a healing balm for the last wound of the 
 kind he was ever to receive. 
 The last hymn : 
 
 " Hear what the voice from heaven proclaims, 
 For all the pious dead," 
 
 seemed but the utterance of Apocalyptic bene- 
 diction, " Blessed are the dead who die in the 
 Lord." 
 
 A select company of his young friends in 
 the ministry gently laid him down in his last 
 resting-place ; then a few members of the choir 
 of his father's church, with whose voices his 
 own had often united, sung that beautiful and 
 appropriate him of Tappan's : 
 
 " There is an hour of peaceful rest." 
 
 After which, the Kev. Mr. Spring, of East 
 Hartford, said a few consoling words, and of- 
 fered a brief prayer over the open grave, and 
 the precious dust was closed from sight, — but 
 not forever. " It shall rise again in the resur- 
 
ADDRESS. 
 
 193 
 
 rection at the last day." Bursting the cere- 
 ments of the grave, it shall come forth, not as 
 now, subject to decay and death, but purified 
 from everything earthly, and "made like to 
 C hrist's glorious body." 
 
 ADDRESS BY THE REV. DR. SPRESTG. 
 
 It would appear to be more in the course of 
 nature that the aged, who had finished their 
 work, should precede, on their way to the 
 grave, the young and vigorous who have ap- 
 parently many years of activity and usefulness 
 yet before them. And such a fact corresponds 
 with our experience. And when we find it 
 otherwise, when the young die before the old, 
 and disperse all the hopes which had gathered 
 about their early yeai^, as we ask for some 
 solution of the problem, we are reconciled to 
 the disappointment only by the reflection that 
 there are wise and good reasons, perhaps yet 
 to be disclosed, for the perplexing anomaly. 
 
 If we enter a grove where trees are standing 
 of every variety of age, and beauty, and use, 
 
194 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 we are not surprised to see the aged and full- 
 grown that have long kept their place, and 
 have blessed whole generations with their 
 shade and fruit, cut down and removed, that 
 place may be given to plants of promise whose 
 fertility and beauty are yet to adorn the en- 
 closure. It is the ordinance of a wise and good 
 Providence, They have accomplished their 
 destiny, and there is nothing in the arrange- 
 ment that excites surprise. But when the axe 
 is laid to the root of a young and beautiful 
 tree of whose growth and maturity the most 
 pleasing anticipations had been formed, we are 
 perplexed, and we wonder what ruthless de- 
 stroyer has been there. We feel like grieving 
 and complaining over the work of desolation. 
 But our perplexity is at once relieved when 
 we are told that the Proprietor has ordered 
 the removal, and especially if he has trans- 
 planted the favorite to adorn his own personal 
 residence, where its beauty and promise shall 
 be to his lasting honor and gratification. 
 
 So in the removal — untimely, as we are 
 
ADDRESS. 
 
 195 
 
 prone to estimate things — of the beloved youth 
 whose remains we now consign to the grave, 
 all our surprise is checked by the remembrance 
 that the Lord of the vineyard has been here. 
 This transfer has not been made without his 
 direction. What though the tree under whose 
 shadow a Church and Congregation would have 
 sat with great delight and whose fruit would 
 have been sweet to their taste, shall bloom no 
 more on earth, it is but transplanted to the 
 Paradise of God to flourish in immortal frag- 
 rance there. 
 
 We are " dumb and open not our mouth, 
 Kppnnsp tlion O TiOrd. hast done it." 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 BEIEF NOTICE OF FIRST MEETING BY HIS BE- 
 REAVED PEOPLE LETTERS OF CONDOLENCE 
 
 EXTRACT OF REPORT OF CHURCH SERMONS. 
 
 Many touching notices of the church pi'ayer- 
 meeting on the evening of the day succeeding 
 his burial, were sent to the parents of the de- 
 ceased jDastor, by the members of his church. 
 One writes: 
 
 "I have just returned from our Thursday 
 evening prayer-meeting. One short week ago, 
 our pastor was with us in our little lecture- 
 room; but how changed was everything to- 
 night ! Our steps echoed as we walked along 
 the lonely aisle, and how heavy were our hearts. 
 The bell commenced ringing — I cannot tell you 
 the feelings of that moment. Our pastor always 
 used to step in before it ceased. Then we all 
 sat and waited, — waited for what ? We knew • 
 
198 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 too well that lie never more would cross that 
 threshold, — never more would look round 
 upon us with beaming countenance, as he was 
 wont, when stepping into his accustomed 
 seat, — never more would read to us from that 
 sacred volume which lay unopened on the 
 desk, never more would feed our souls with 
 heavenly manna. 
 
 " When the hymn was read all were too much 
 overcome to sing, — we were wont to hear such 
 a sweet voice strike off at once. Now all was 
 silent. At the close of our sad meeting, there 
 was no one to pronounce the benediction over 
 our heads, unless, indeed, our glorified pastor 
 looked down in pity from his bright abode 
 and blessed us ere we parted." * * * 
 
 The fourth Sabbath after his death was a 
 memorable one to that church and people. 
 
 Kesolutions, expressive of their submission 
 to the divine will in this trying dispensation, 
 also of the deep sense of their loss, and their 
 high appreciation of the character and labors 
 of their pastor while with them, concluding 
 
BRIEF NOTICES. 
 
 199 
 
 with an appropriate and tender testimonial to 
 bis memory, were presented "to tlie whole 
 churcli and congregation assembled on that 
 Sabbath." A letter from the parents of the 
 deceased was read, and a hymn on the death 
 of the I'ighteous, by Montgomery, was sung by 
 voices with which his own had often mingled : 
 
 HYMN. (664, Chapel Hymns.) 
 
 Thi8 place is holy ground ; 
 
 World, with thy cares, away ! 
 Silence and darkness reign around. 
 But lo ! the break of day : 
 What bright and sudden dawn appears 
 To shine upon this scene^of tears ! 
 
 Behold the bed of death, — 
 
 This pale and lovely clay ! 
 Heard ye the sob of parting breath ! 
 Marked ye the eyes' last ray ! — 
 No ! — life so sweetly ceased to be, 
 It lapsed in immortality. 
 
 Could tears revive the dead, 
 
 Elvers should swell our eyes ; 
 Could sighs recall the spirit fled, 
 We would not quench our sighs. 
 Till love relume this altered mien, 
 And all the embodied soul were seen. 
 
200 
 
 ERSKINE J. 
 
 H AWES. 
 
 Bury the dead and weep, 
 
 In stillness o'er the loss ; 
 Bury the dead — in Christ they sleep, 
 Who bore on earth his cross, 
 
 And, from the grave, their dust shall rise 
 In his own imago to the skies. 
 
 One who was present said, " It seemed like 
 attending his funeral over again." 
 
 In the afternoon, a sermon on Home Mis- 
 sions was read. The young pastor had finished 
 it just before taking that fatal ride, and had 
 expected to preach it on the coming Sabbath ; 
 and as he regarded the subject as one of par- 
 amount importance, he had taken great pains 
 in its preparation. The circumstances in which 
 it was presented to the people, doubtless con- 
 tributed much to the effect produced. The 
 collection taken up was much larger than ever 
 before for the same object. 
 
 The heavy draping was kept upon the 
 church, with its motto wrought in white silk, 
 in front of the pulpit, for nearly two months : 
 
 " He being dead, yet speaketb." 
 
 Before its removal, the following impromptu 
 
LETTERS OF CONDOLENCE. 
 
 201 
 
 lines were foutid in church, written on the 
 blank leaf of a psalm-book : 
 
 Why should tliese sable curtains hang 
 
 Around this house of prayer ? 
 No gloom is resting o'er his grave, 
 
 No shadow lingers there. 
 
 No funeral badges hang around 
 
 His home in heavenly light ; 
 We know his ransomed soul is clad 
 
 In robes of purest white. 
 
 'Twas but the prison walls that fell 
 
 Beneath death's mighty stroke, 
 Why should we mourn for one released 
 
 From earth's oppressive yoke? 
 
 Why should we grieve that one prepared 
 
 Has entered into rest ? 
 Why should we weep for one who leans 
 
 Upon the Saviour's breast? 
 
 A letter of sympathy, wi-itten by the sub- 
 ject of this memoir, to a friend in affliction, 
 was returned to the mother of the deceased 
 eight years after it was written, with the fol- 
 lowing note : 
 
 " Dear Madam, 
 
 " I cannot but call to mind, that while 
 
 your honored and loved son was with us, he 
 10 
 
202 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 early learned to sorrow with the afflicted. A 
 letter of condolence from his pen, dated Ando- 
 ver, November 2d, 1852, now lies before me. 
 May not the words of the sou fitly come back 
 to comfort the parents, now that they are 
 bowed in grief at his loss !" It read thus: 
 
 " Dear H , I regretted, exceedingly, that 
 
 I could not tarry in Hartford, to mingle my 
 grief with yours, and drop a tear of sympathy 
 over the remains of our dear departed friend ; 
 but I rejoice to think that you can resort to a 
 far better source of consolation than mei-e hu- 
 manity can afibrd, — to him, who, when on 
 earth, wept at the grave of Lazarus, and whose 
 watchful eye in heaven numbers every silent 
 tear. You are not left to sorrow as those with- 
 out hope, but you may expect at some future 
 day to sing the glories of the Lamb, with him 
 whose voice you will no more hear on earth. 
 How delightful, too, and how illustrative of the 
 sufficiency of the Christian's support in death, 
 that the departed one so calmly entered the 
 dark valley, in the unclouded use of reason, 
 
LETTERS OF CONDOLENCE. 203 
 
 and with songs of praises* on his lips. I have 
 often, of late, repeated to myself those beau- 
 tiful lines in the Village Hymns : 
 
 Before we quite forsake our clay, 
 
 Or leave this dark abode, 
 The wings of love bear us away 
 
 To see our smiling God. 
 
 We cannot tell what visions of glory the dying 
 Christian may behold, just as the thread of 
 life is parting, and the curtain is being lifted, 
 which separates the unseen from the seen. 
 
 " But while we delight to follow the spirits 
 of our departed friends, in our conceptions, to 
 the world of light, we should not forget to 
 learn the salutary lesson of our own frailty. 
 
 "How solemn the admonition falling from 
 the lips of the living with almost prophetic 
 force, and now from his silent tomb : ' Be ye 
 therefore ready also, for in such an hour as ye 
 think not, the son of man cometh.'f 
 
 * "Sing, sing," he said; but voices of friends were choked with 
 grief, when he conamenced a favorite hymn, and sung till his voice 
 was lost in death. 
 
 \ Lesson for his class in Sabbath-school, when he was in health 
 on Sabbath morn, and on Wednesday naorning, following, was no 
 longer here. 
 
204 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 " I can scarcely restrain a tear when I recur 
 to the pleasant scenes of last smnmer, those 
 mutual communings with nature in all her 
 loveliness and silent grandeur, in which it was 
 our delight, but, now, our melancholy pleasure 
 to have participated ; but viewing the matter 
 in another light, there is, if not cause for joy, 
 yet reason for consolation. He is now no 
 longer witnessing the ever-fading scenes of 
 earth, but the constant, unfolding glories of 
 heaven. He has done with earth, — its pains, 
 its sorrows, and its sins, — and has been admit- 
 ted, as we trust, to 'the innumerable company 
 of saints and angels ; ' and what is more, to the 
 joy of God^s immediate presence. Here let us 
 leave him, hoping, ourselves, at some future 
 day, to be accounted worthy, through the 
 merits of the Lamb, of the same blessedness. 
 
 " With kindest sympathy, I am very sin- 
 cerely yours, E. J. Hawes." 
 
 From Mr. W. B. Capron, long associated 
 with the deceased on terms of intimacy, first 
 
LETTERS OF CONDOLENCE. 205 
 
 in his father's house, at Hartford, then in the 
 high-school, and last at Andover. 
 
 From his far distant home in India, he 
 writes to the mother of the deceased : 
 
 "I have been dwelling upon the circumstances 
 connected with your bereavement, which should 
 bring you consolation. But my mind runs back 
 to the years of my acquaintance with Erskine ; 
 and yours will run back, no doubt, to the years 
 of his youth and his childhood. It is a great 
 blessing to you to have received such a treas- 
 ure from the Lord, for so many years, and with 
 so few drawbacks ; and while you will love to 
 linger upon the evidence of his growth in 
 grace, and his active usefulness during the 
 years that he labored in the ministry, I am 
 sure you will take scarcely less pleasure in re- 
 membering his fidelity in study, and in his 
 duties as a teacher, his diligence, his self-dis- 
 trust and yet real ability, his excellent taste, 
 his skill in music, in composition, in mechan- 
 ics also,' his sociability, his kindness, — in fact, 
 his well-balanced mind, and well-balanced 
 
206 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 heart, which you saw iu him, and saw to be 
 appreciated by others. 
 
 " I remember the years of my acquaintance 
 with him, with great pleasure, and have been 
 instructed and reproved, while my heart has 
 been touched by this story of his last hours." 
 
 The following from the Rev. Mr. Gulliver, 
 of Norwich, is a very graphic and truthful de- 
 lineation of traits, which friends who best 
 knew him, have often seen in him : 
 
 " At Rockville,* your son sat for some hours 
 opposite me in church, and my eye rested on 
 him for a long while, attracted by the pecu- 
 liarly earnest, tender, I may say, beautiful ex- 
 pression of his countenance. I thought how 
 wonderful it was that one accustomed to such 
 a position from his childhood, accustomed to 
 see his father a leader in the church and 
 among the churches, should be so modest and 
 retiring, so ready to hear rather than to talk, 
 so much more inclined to do, than to direct. 
 
 * At the General Association of Connecticut, a few weeks pre- 
 ceding his death. 
 
LETTERS OF CONDOLENCE. 
 
 207 
 
 How little did we think that those lovely qual- 
 ities were so soon to adorn the circles about 
 the throne of God and the Lamb ! and that 
 that sweet spirit was to find society and sym- 
 pathy among the angels of Grod ! But so it is. 
 And there is a more delightful thought still, 
 that now the young disciple whom Jesus loved 
 is leaning his head upon the Saviour's breast, 
 and with his missionary sister, now walks with 
 him in white. I cannot fully and only condole 
 with you, that such children have gone before 
 you to welcome you to heaven. I must also 
 bless God that he has given you such children, 
 and congratulate you that you have been able 
 to give them first to the church, and then to 
 heaven." 
 
 The following is from a respected friend of 
 the father of the deceased, — a man of position 
 and influence in society : 
 
 " I can never forget (in my own somewhat 
 similar bereavement) the very delicate, unex- 
 pected sympathy I received from your be- 
 loved son. Such was his modest and gentle- 
 
208 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 manly bearing, — rsuch the refinement and 
 sympathy of bis character, — as the result of 
 his fine education and training, — and all this 
 adorned with a sweet and unaffected savor of 
 piety, that he was ray decided choice for our 
 late vacant church. But God, in infinite wis- 
 dom, has transferred him to higher and nobler 
 service in His upper temple." 
 
 The following from the Rev, Professor Fitch, 
 of New Haven, strikingly illustrates the affec- 
 tionate sympathy which he awakened in 
 friends towards himself while living, and which 
 his premature removal called forth towards his 
 sti'icken parents. 
 
 " I remember your earlier griefs over Louisa* 
 and Thomas, long since put to rest in their lit- 
 tle graves. And Mary, so long a light and 
 joy in both our households, whom we gave 
 away as the bride of a missionary to an East- 
 ern land, who has long since laid her to rest, 
 near the shores of the Bosphorus. But Erskine 
 remained. We have followed him in his course 
 
 * " Louisa, My First-born :" — S. S. Union. 
 
LETTERS OF CONDOLENCE. 
 
 209 
 
 of studies and preparation. We have seen him 
 welcomed to the ministry of the Gospel. He 
 was testifying to the love of Jesus before a 
 people appreciating his ministry. We saw in 
 him, we trusted, a friend to survive us in our 
 old age, and bear our memory with him to 
 another generation. It seems but yesterday 
 he passed a day with us in our family, cheeripg 
 us with his society, and receiving joyfully our 
 counsels and the ' God speed thee' of our 
 hearts. And is he gone ? Erskine, very dear 
 wast thou to our hearts. Your Lord and Sav- 
 iour knew better what to do with you and for 
 you than we. In His hands we leave you in 
 submission and hope." 
 
 "Rev. De. and Mes. Hawes. 
 " My dear Friends : 
 
 " The following lines were penned after 
 reading Dr. Tyng's account of the last hours of 
 your son, in the ' Independent,' and after 
 hearing a sermon preached by my faithful 
 pastor, Rev. Mr. Thurston, of Fall River,- al- 
 io* 
 
210 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 ludiug to the same event, and particularly to 
 those thrilling words : 
 
 'HURRY ON TO THE PROSPECTS.' 
 
 " Hasten mother, onward hasten ! 
 
 Soon my soul from earth must part ; 
 Tell me of those glorious prospects 
 Which await the pure in heart. 
 
 " Hasten, mother, onward hasten ! 
 Fast my life doth fainter grow ; 
 Tell me of that heavenly fountain, 
 Whence the stream of life doth flow. 
 
 " Hasten, mother ! onward hasten ! 
 Hear I now those songs of praise. 
 Sweetest music heard in heaven, 
 Music which the ransomed raise. 
 
 " Hasten, mother ! hasten quickly ! 
 Tell me of the sprinkling blood, — 
 Tell me of Celestial Mansions, — 
 City of the Living God ! 
 
 " Edward Buffinton. 
 
 Fall Eker, Mass.^'' 
 
 Extract from the Annual Report of the Centre Church, 
 Hartford, for the year 1860. 
 
 "But we cannot forbear alluding to one, 
 whose sudden and untimely death sent a thrill 
 of sorrow through the city of his birth, and 
 
EXTRACT. 
 
 211 
 
 filled this house to overflowing with sympa- 
 thizing and weeping mourners. 
 
 "Kev. Erskine J. Hawes was well known 
 among us. He was loved and esteemed by all. 
 None uttered a syllable against his character. 
 Even in his youth he was of singular purity, 
 sincerity, obedience, and discretion. We 
 watched him with anxious interest as he 
 passed into manhood. In college, and in the 
 theological seminary, he maintained the same 
 consistency of character, and came out at 
 length fully equipped for the arduous duties 
 of the profession which he had chosen. He 
 added to a vigorous mind and sound judgment 
 the acquirements of a ripe scholarship. Thus 
 accoutred he went forth with quiet courage, 
 to make conquests for Jehovah. And how 
 manfully and successfully he continued the 
 warfare against Satan's kingdom, let his brief 
 ministry at Plymouth answer. Here he began 
 a career of extended usefulness, and rapidly 
 developed in mind and heart. He became 
 prominent in advocating public reforms, and 
 
212 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 was already heginning, in no small degree, to 
 mould the public sentiment in the town to 
 which the Providence of God had called him. 
 As a preacher, his aim was more and more to 
 set forth ' Christ and Him crucified..' As a 
 pastor, he endeared himself greatly to all the 
 members of his flock. Already, in the short 
 space of two and a half years, more than fifty 
 had renounced the world, and enrolled them- 
 selv^es under the banner of Jesus. But sud- 
 denly the stroke fell ! Oh, the blighting of 
 fond hopes, the sundering of tender ties, the 
 grief of whole communities, the abrupt ending 
 of a useful life, the going out of a star in the 
 heavens ! The going out ? Ah, no ! It set be- 
 hind our sky, only to glow with more eflfulgent 
 radiance in the galaxy of heaven ! 
 
 " But it is well. Revelation and reason con- 
 spire to teach us that it is well, when the 
 Christian dies. Our brother has, indeed, gone 
 from our sight ; he has ' hurried on to the 
 prospects:' but he has left with us 'the treas- 
 ures of [his] well-spent life,' the fruits of his 
 
EXTRACT. 
 
 213 
 
 short but successful ministry, and the fragrant 
 memories of his triumphant death. And we 
 will say of him, and of the other loved ones, 
 whose graves are still fresh among us, — 
 
 " With us their names shall live 
 Through long succeeding years ; 
 Embalmed with all our hearts can give, 
 Our praises and our tears." 
 
CONSOLATION IN AFFLICTION. 
 
 DBLIVBRED IN THE FIRST CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH, IN HARTFORD, JOLT 
 15, 1860, BEING THE SABBATH AFTER THE INTERMENT OF THE 
 REV. E. J. HAWES, PASTOR OF THE FIRST CONGREGA- 
 TIONAL CHURCH, IN PLYMOnTH, CONN., 
 
 By J. HiVWBS, T). I> . 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 " For as the sufferings of Christ abound in us, so our consolation also 
 aboundeth by Christ."— 2 Corinthians i. 5. 
 
 The sufferings referred to in the text were 
 such as Paul and his associates in the ministry 
 were called to endure for Christ's sake, or in 
 seeking to promote his cause in the salvation 
 of men. They arose from the opposition and 
 hatred of enemies, and from persecution, trial, 
 and want. These the Apostle had to encounter 
 in large measure, and in various forms, in the 
 whole course of his ministry. But in propor- 
 tion as he suffered for Christ, his consolation 
 abounded through Christ ; the one was set 
 over against the other, or rather the one was 
 far more al)undant than the other ; and all, as 
 he tells us in the verses following our text, 
 redounded to the glory of Christ and the com- 
 
218 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 fort and edification of those to whom he minis- 
 tered. Whether we be afflicted, he says, it is 
 for your consolation and salvation which is ef- 
 fectual in the enduring of the same sufferings 
 which we also suffer, or whether we be com- 
 forted, it is for your consolation and salvation. 
 And our hope of you is steadfast, knowing 
 that as ye are partakers of the sufferings, so 
 shall ye be also of the consolation. 
 
 But it is not my purpose to discuss the sub- 
 ject suggested in the text in this its broad and 
 general character, but to confine my remarks 
 to the sufferings which come to us in the form 
 of bereavement in the loss of near and loved 
 friends by death. In this view let me invite 
 you to consider with me, on the present oc- 
 casion, some of the sources of consolation open 
 to us under the bereavements and trials of 
 life. 
 
 It will at once occur to you, my friends, that 
 the scenes of the past week have forced this 
 subject on my attention. It occupied my 
 thoughts, indeed, while on my lonely way last 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 219 
 
 Sabbath afternoon, to the house, which was 
 even then, though unknown to me, a house 
 of mourning. And since my return, with all 
 the sad mementoes of death and the grave 
 pressing on my mind, I have scarcely been able 
 to turn my thoughts to any other subject than 
 that suggested by our text as the theme of 
 present meditation. I shall not, of course, con- 
 sider it in special application to myself, thus 
 obtruding my own personal sorrows upon pub- 
 lic notice ; but I shall endeavor to set it before 
 you in its general aspect and bearing, in the 
 hope that you may be the better prepared for 
 bereavements and trials when they shall come 
 upon you. And come they will, in one form 
 or another, to all whom I now address. There 
 is no exemption. Affliction and sorrow are 
 the lot of all that dwell in the flesh. We are 
 born to trouble as the sparks fly upward ; and 
 sooner or later the bitter cup is passed round 
 and pressed to the lips of all living. Some 
 individuals, indeed, and some families, seem 
 almost an exception, — they have lived so long 
 
220 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 witli nothing to interrupt the steady flow of 
 prosperity or break in upon the circle of do- 
 mestic happiness. But such cases are rare ; 
 and I have long since learned to look upon 
 them, when they occur, with painful apprehen- 
 sion. I know the tide must turn, and when 
 the stream begins to flow in an opposite direc- 
 tion, it is common, as I have observed, for wave 
 after wave to roll in, in quick succession, 
 breaking up long-cherished connections and 
 sundering long-endeared ties. Trials, it has 
 often been remarked, seldom come alone. 
 They frequently tread quick upon each other, 
 as in the case of Job, and none are more likely 
 to be visited with this experience than those 
 w^hose sun has long shone brightly upon them, 
 and few if any clouds have passed over their 
 path. But however this may be, it certainly 
 becomes us all, in a world like this, to remem- 
 ber the days of darkness, for they will be many. 
 And when or how soon they will throw their 
 shades around us, we cannot tell. The bright- 
 est prospects may be suddenly overcast, and 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 221 
 
 our dearest earthly enjoyments may be swept 
 away in an hour, and in a manner entirely un- 
 expected by us. Trials lie hidden along every 
 pathway in life, and they often come upon us 
 when we least think of them, and in a form to 
 stir the deepest sensibilities of the soul. In- 
 deed, it is like God to conceal the hand that 
 moves the mighty wheels of his providence, 
 and to strike in a manner to make himself 
 regarded. He gives none account of his ways, 
 and often his bereaving stroke falls as lightning 
 from a clear sky, giving no warning till the 
 work on which it was commissioned is done. 
 A father, a mother is suddenly smitten down ; 
 a husband, a wife is snatched away ; a loved 
 child of many hopes and many prayers is hur- 
 ried from the stage of life in the midst of his 
 days and his usefulness; and the whole story 
 of the sad event is told in one word, — he is 
 gone. So the fashion, the pageant of this 
 world passeth away. Nothing permanent, no- 
 thing fixed and certain. We know not what 
 a day may bring forth. We only know that 
 
222 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 we live in a world of trial and change ; tliat 
 our fairest prospects may suddenly be dark- 
 ened and from the enjoyment of large happi- 
 ness and long-unbroken prosperity, we may in 
 a moment be summoned to the sorest bereave- 
 ments and the bitterest sorrow. 
 
 Exposed thus, as we all are, to these sad re- 
 verses, to these sinkings in the deep waters of 
 adversity, how important that we should all 
 know, while yet the ways are smooth, and no 
 dark cloud appears in the horizon, what sources 
 of consolation and support are provided for us 
 to which we may resort when days of bereave- 
 ment and trial shall come. To point out to 
 you some of these is what I shall now attempt : 
 
 1. The great fact which underlies all that I 
 have to say on this subject, and essential in- 
 deed to all true consolation under the afflic- 
 tions and trials of life, is, that an all-wise and 
 benevolent Providence presides over the affairs 
 of men and regulates all the events of time. 
 Without the recognition of such a Providence 
 this would, indeed, be a dark world, — all given 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 223 
 
 over to chance ; no plan, no wise purpose con- 
 trolling the course of events, and no presiding 
 power to direct them to benevolent results. 
 But, blessed be God, it is not in such a world 
 that we live. Much as there is in it that is 
 dark and mysterious to us short-sighted mor- 
 tals, the great truth stands before us in the 
 clear sunlight of God's word, — the Lord reign- 
 eth, and true and just are all his ways. His 
 providence, bearing the impress of his own 
 perfections, is infinitely wise, benevolent, pow- 
 erful and good ; and it extends to all creatures 
 and all events. It is universal, taking in the 
 whole creation; it is also particular, directing 
 the falling of a sparrow and numbering the 
 hairs of our head. And it is a providence 
 which never errs, which never fails, but always 
 does just that, and only that, which is wisest 
 and best ; best adapted to show forth the glory 
 of God and promote the highest good of them 
 that confide in Him, and are owned as the 
 children of his love. Sustained by this blessed 
 truth, we may lift up our hands and our hearts, 
 
ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 amid the darkest and most trying circum- 
 stances in which we can be placed, — and ex- 
 claim, — The Lord liveth, and blessed be my 
 rock, and let the God of my salvation be 
 exalted. There is a light above the cloud 
 that now seems so dark and heavy : soon the 
 light will break through the cloud, and it will 
 pass away, and all will be cleared up and made 
 plain. This remains an unfailing, ever-enduring 
 source of consolation in any situation in which 
 we can be placed. Nor is it any deduction 
 from the all-sufficiency of this precious source of 
 support that the providence of God is a deep 
 unfathomable to us ; that it is often wrapped in 
 darkness, and subjects us to trials which seem 
 wholly mysterious, which we cannot explain, 
 and which we sometimes feel we cannot bear, 
 God governs for the universe, and He governs 
 for eternity. It is of necessity, therefore, that 
 his ways in our view must often be in the 
 great deep, and his footsteps not known. We 
 can see but little of that vast plan which 
 God, in the dispensations of his providence, 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 225 
 
 is executing for his own glory and tlie best 
 good of them that love Him. Enough is 
 known to lay a perfect foundation of trust and 
 hope. We have only to wait a little, leaning 
 on the arm and confiding in the love of an 
 ever-present and all-perfect God, and soon all 
 will be made plain. What we know not now 
 we shall know hereafter ; and it will, I doubt 
 not, be a part of our delightful employment in 
 heaven, inspiring us with ever new gratitude 
 and praise, to study the evolvings of God's 
 providence towards us in this world, and the 
 means he saw fit to use to fit us for his service 
 on earth, and for the everlasting enjoyment of 
 his presence in heaven. 
 
 2. It is another source of consolation under 
 bereavement and trial, to reflect that they are 
 a necessary part of the discipline of life ; the 
 appointed and the essential means of develop- 
 ing character and fitting the soul for a higher 
 and happier state of being. If man were in 
 his primeval state of innocency, as in paradise, 
 
 he might not need the discipline of adversity 
 11 
 
 I 
 
226 ^ ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 and sorrow to keep him near to God, in obed- 
 ience to his will, and in growing fitness for his 
 presence and glory. It might then be safe for 
 him to enjoy uninterrupted happiness, as it is 
 for the angels and for the redeemed in heaven ! 
 But man is no longer in innocency ; he is in a 
 fallen, sinful state ; we all partake of the effects 
 of the apostacy, and are inclined from our ear- 
 liest days to forget and forsake God, and to 
 choose the vain things of earth and time as our 
 portion, to the neglect of the great interests of 
 the soul and eternity. This is the malady, the 
 moral malady of our entire race. Nor is it 
 wholly removed by that change of heart which 
 brings us to repentance and to Christ our Sav- 
 iour. Far from it. The disease of sin, in some 
 of its many forms and workings, still cleaves 
 to us, and the discipline of sufifering seems ne- 
 cessary to carry on the process of cure and 
 to effect our entire restoration to spiritual 
 health and fitness for the kingdom and service 
 of God. And this, we are abundantly taught, 
 is one great end designed to be accomplished 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 227 
 
 in us by the afflictions and trials of life. And 
 they seem absolutely necessary to this end. 
 We can none of us bear uninterrupted pros- 
 perity. It is not safe for us. The discipline 
 of unbroken comfort, if 1 may so speak, is too 
 soft and tender for such indocile, self-willed 
 creatures as we are. It acts unfavorably and 
 hurtfully on our higher, spiritual interests. It 
 tends to form a hard, unsympathizing, selfish 
 and worldly character. " It is," says Evans, 
 " upon the smooth ice we slip ; the rough path 
 is safest for our feet. The tearless, undimmed 
 eye is not to be coveted here, — that is reserved 
 for heaven." We need trials now, afflictions, 
 sorrows, many and of various kinds, to keep us 
 in our place ; to make us what we should be, 
 and to educate and train us up for a higher 
 state of being hereafter. Our Father in heaven 
 knows this, and, therefore, in paternal love and 
 faithfulness, he subjects his people to the dis- 
 cipline of suffering; he casts them into the 
 furnace ; bereaves them of theii- loved ones ; 
 lays his hand heavily upon them, and all, that 
 
228 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 He may purify them, draw them nearer to 
 Himself, and make tliem larger partakei-s of 
 his holiness and of the joys of his salv^ation. 
 And it surely is a great source of consolation 
 in our bereavements to know that God is de- 
 signing our good by them. And good they 
 will certainly do us if we receive them in a 
 Christian manner. They are adapted and in- 
 tended to stir the deep sensibilities of the soul, 
 to show us our weakness and our dependence"; 
 to draw forth our purer and better affections ; 
 to inspire us with tenderer and more active 
 sympathies ; to engage us in a closer walk with 
 God, and to make us more like our blessed 
 Saviour, of whom it is testified, that even he 
 was made perfect by suffering, — that is, a com- 
 plete Saviour, suited in all respects to our char- 
 acter and wants, — made such by the things he 
 endured while here in the flesh as our elder 
 brother. And how interesting to hear it said 
 of him, now that he lives and reigns in glory, 
 he can be touched with the feeling of our in- 
 firmities, our sorrows, having in all points been 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 229 
 
 tried as we are ; and, a most consoling truth it 
 is, ever to be borne in mind in the midst of our 
 trials, that we have a merciful and faithful 
 High-priest ascended for us into the heavens, 
 one who is able to sympathize with and to suc- 
 cor us in our sufferings, having suffered himself, 
 and been made perfect, fitted completely for 
 his office, as Redeemer and Saviour, by suffer- 
 ing. Yes, it is true, as a tried, experienced 
 sufferer once said, — " Christ has gone through 
 every class and grade of our wilderness school 
 and how should it console and reconcile us to 
 our lot to reflect, when trials are heavy upon 
 us, that he is conducting us through the same 
 school in preparation for an eternal residence 
 with him in the mansions he has prepared for 
 us in glory ? 
 
 3. It is another source of consolation under 
 the bereavements and trials of life, that, when 
 borne in a Christian manner, they always come 
 mingled with peculiar tokens of God's presence 
 and love. So the Apostle found it in his ex- 
 perience. As his sufferings for Christ abounded, 
 
230 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 SO also did his consolation in Christ. The Sav- 
 iour came near, and sustained and comforted 
 him with his special presence, with his sup- 
 porting grace, with his love shed abroad in the 
 heart and the joys of an assured hope of 
 heaven. No one can read the writings of 
 Paul without being struck wnth the fact that 
 his purest joys, and his brighest hopes, and 
 sweetest songs, were closely connected with 
 scenes of deep trial and suffering for Christ. 
 Nor Avas his experience in this matter at all 
 peculiar to him. It was common to all the 
 primitive disciples of our Lord. In proportion 
 as they endured trials and sufferings in the 
 cause of their Saviour, he came near and 
 blessed them with his presence and favor ; they 
 took joyfully the spoiling of their goods, were 
 patient and happy under the loss of all things, 
 and went singing and triumphant even to the 
 gibbet and the stake. And so, in all ages : the 
 Saviour has come nearest to his friends in their 
 seasons of affliction and trial ; — they trusting 
 in Him; and has given them peculiar mani- 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 231 
 
 festations of his grace and love. He may not, 
 indeed, remove the cup nor prevent the bit- 
 terness of the draught, but he supplies needed 
 strength to the inner man, imparts peace and 
 joy and hope to the smitten spirit, and often 
 gives a realization of his nearness, of his friend- 
 ship and presence, never enjoyed in an equal 
 measure at any other time. They find it, 
 indeed, to be true, — as thy day, so shall thy 
 strength be. When the three friends in Baby- 
 lon were cast into the burning, fiery furnace, 
 one like unto the Son of man was seen walking 
 with them in the midst of the flames, guarding 
 them from all harm. So when the Christian 
 is cast into the furnace of affliction, he is sure 
 not to be left alone; if he bows to the dis- 
 pensation and trusts in him who appoints it, one 
 is sure to be with him mighty to help and to 
 save, and his presence and favor are more, 
 infinitely more than a compensation for the 
 loss of all earthly comforts. How often has it 
 been witnessed that Christians of true piety 
 have found their happiest seasons of commun- 
 
232 
 
 ERSKINE J. HA WES. 
 
 ioD with God and the sweetest Lours of spirit- 
 ual enjoyment, just when their afflictions were 
 heaviest and their trials the most severe. " Oh," 
 says one, "I thought I could never bear such 
 a trial as has come upon me ; it seemed to me 
 in prospect that I should sink under it and 
 die ; but it came ; I bowed to the stroke ; I 
 said, the will of the Lord be done, — and He 
 was near to me, and held me up and gave me 
 such tokens of his presence and of the glorious 
 fullness of his grace as I never knew anything 
 of before." Oh, that this may be our experience, 
 my beloved friends, when called to di'ink of 
 the bitter cup of affliction and sorrow. 
 
 4. It is yet another source of consolation 
 under the trials of life, that they are but for a 
 moment, and then will be succeeded by ever- 
 lasting blessedness in heaven. Weeping may 
 endure for a night, but joy cometh in the 
 morning. For our light afflictions, which are for 
 a moment, work for us a far more exceeding 
 and eternal weight of glory. And in another 
 place the Apostle says, For I reckon that the 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 233 
 
 sufferings of the present time are not worthy 
 to be compared with the glory which shall be 
 revealed in us. And again, No chastening 
 for the present seemeth to be joyous, but 
 grievous ; nevertheless, afterward, it worketh 
 the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them 
 "which are exercised thereby. Oh ! this after- 
 ward', it has long seemed to me a tei'm full of 
 deep and comforting significancy. When the 
 blow that sweeps away our comforts first falls, 
 it often stuns us, as it were ; we are over- 
 whelmed by it, and it seems more than we can 
 bear. But soon a soothing, softening process 
 begins, bringing peace to the soul and fruits of 
 righteousness, sweet to the taste even now, bat 
 far sweeter when fully ripened in heaven. 
 
 We are prone, indeed, as I know from pain- 
 ful experience, to think of our trials when fresh 
 upon us, as too heavy to be borne, and we are 
 ready to imagine that there is no relief from 
 them, and no end. But this is our weakness. 
 Rightly viewed, we shall deem them light and 
 momentary, as the Apostle did his trials. This 
 11* 
 
234 ERSKINE J, HAWES. 
 
 is, indeed, their proper characteristic,— light 
 and but for a moment. They are light com- 
 pared with what we deserve ; are light com- 
 pared with what others, better than ourselves, 
 have suffered ; and light, because, if we bear 
 them aright, God helps us to sustain them, en- 
 abling us to cast the burden of them on Him, 
 ■with the assurance that He will comfort and 
 uphold us. There is yet another circumstance 
 that makes our trials light, — they work a healing 
 process in our souls, dislodge us from our earth- 
 liness and sins, and bring us into a nearer con- 
 formity to God, and a gi-eater fitness to appre- 
 ciate and to enjoy his grace and love. And then 
 how true it is that they are but for a moment ? 
 In their first bitterness they dash every cup 
 of enjoyment, as it were, with gall, and spread 
 gloom over all the prospects of life. But soon, 
 time, with the grace of God, comes in with a 
 softening, sustaining hand, blunts the keen 
 edge, and breaks off the sharp points of our 
 bereavement, and leaves us with the happy 
 fruits that spring from it to cheer and refresh 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 235 
 
 us on our earthly pilgrimage. But even should 
 our bereavements and trials be many, and 
 should seem to follow us in quick succession 
 all along life's journey, still we may say of 
 them, and truly, they are but for a moment. 
 They will soon be over ; we part with them 
 as we pass over Jordan, to enter the celestial 
 city, and shall meet thera no more forever. 
 And how near is that time ! But a step, and 
 we reach the end of our earthly course and 
 earthly trials, and all beyond is everlasting 
 blessedness. In the place to which we go, if 
 we are Christians, there shall be no more 
 tears, no more death, neither sorrow, nor cry- 
 ing, nor any more pain in the sundering of 
 ties that unite kindred and friends. There 
 all that is now dark in the dealings of divine 
 Providence will be cleared up. Eternity will 
 show how all^ all was needed, that came upon 
 us here ; that nothing else, nothing less, could 
 have done. " With all its mazy windings and 
 rugged roughness, the way in which Christ is 
 leading us on, if we are his, is not only a 
 
236 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 riglit way, but the right way, the best which 
 covenant wisdom and love could select." So 
 we shall find it in the final result, — the winding 
 up of this checkered, intricate earthly scene. 
 And how consoling a truth is this to rest upon 
 under the trials and sorrows of life ? " No- 
 thing," says Jeremy Taylor, " does so establish 
 the mind amidst the rollings and turbulence of 
 present things, as both a look ohove them, and a 
 look heyond iham ; above them to the steady and 
 good hand by which they are regulated ; and 
 beyond them, to the sweet and beautiful end 
 to which by that hand they will be brought." 
 With this precious truth shedding its light and 
 comfort into our souls, we may well say with 
 one of old, in every dark and trying day, — 
 though he slay me, yet will I trust in Him. 
 Would, said an eminent Christian, now entered 
 on his rest, that one could read and write, and 
 toil and pray, and suffer and compose one's 
 self to sleep, as with the thought, — soon to he in 
 heaven^ and that forever and ever. I must 
 mention : 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 237 
 
 5. One other source of consolation under 
 the bereavements of life, — it is, that, when 
 called to pai-t with near and loved friends who 
 die in the Lord, our separation from them is 
 but for a brief time. They have gone just be- 
 fore us over the narrow stream, and are wait- 
 ing on the shining shore to welcome our 
 arrival, to join their happy society and inter- 
 course, to part no more forever. They have 
 gone from us ; but they are not perished. 
 They are still alive, — alive with all their 
 powers invigorated, with all their affections 
 purified, with all that was lovely and interest- 
 ing and good in them here made perfect ; and 
 clothed with immortal youth and vigor, they 
 remember us, pilgi'ims on earth, with a warmer 
 love than ever, and are looking and longing, 
 it may be, for the day when we, too, shall 
 quit these scenes of mortality and go to be 
 ever with them in the presence of their and 
 our Lord and Saviour. Yes, we shall surely 
 meet our dear Christian friends in another 
 world, and shall know them and love them, and 
 
238 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 forever enjoy their society. I have the deepest 
 conviction of this truth. It is fully sustained 
 in the scriptures ; it is most reasonable in itself, 
 and accords well with all that we know of tlie 
 soul and of the scenes of immortality beyond the 
 grave. And it is a truth which grows sweeter 
 and more comforting to my lieart every year 
 I live. I lean upon it and bring it home to 
 my bosom with fresh gratitude and faith in 
 this day of m}" sorrow. My son, my dear and 
 only son, thou art gone to the grave before 
 me, hast left me a lonely mourner in the decline 
 of my age ; but I would not recall thee, to re- 
 new the battle of life, and pass through the 
 agonies of another death-scene. No, the last 
 conflict is over, the victory is won, and thy 
 Saviour, I trust, has taken thee to Himself to 
 serve and enjoy Him in a higher sphere of ac- 
 tivity, of usefulness and blessedness than earth 
 could afford. And there thou art waiting for 
 thy parents, now mourning thy departure, and 
 weeping over thy too early grave, as it seems 
 to us, in our short-sightedness. But thou wilt 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 239 
 
 not wait long ; we are nearing the brink of tlie 
 river over which thou hast passed, and ere long 
 the summons will come for us to launch away, 
 and go to the spirit-land where we confidently 
 hope for thy welcome, and to have thee near 
 to us forever. And, tell us, hast thou found 
 thy loved brothers and sisters who died before 
 thee ? Were they ready to greet thee, when, 
 bidding us farewell, thou didst pass so suddenly 
 within the vail ? Yes ; ye are all together now, 
 and ere long, as I humbly hope, we shall all meet, 
 a happy, united family, to minister to each other's 
 joy and blessedness in the presence of our Sav- 
 iour, and to the glory of his rich grace forever 
 and ever. Yes ; and other thoughts crowd on 
 my mind, as this prospect opens to my view 
 and sheds its light and comfort to cheer my 
 afflicted, bleeding heart. There, on the distant 
 shore, toward which I am fast sailing, I see 
 dear departed friends, in large number, to 
 whom I ministered while they were yet with 
 us, and whom I loved as followers of the Lord 
 Jesus and fellow-helpers in the gospel, — I see 
 
240 
 
 ERSKINB J. HAWES. 
 
 tliem waiting^ — tlie nine pastors, too, that have 
 labored and died here before me, and the 
 happy ones whom they assisted on their way 
 to glory, — yes, all waiting to welcome me and 
 others belonging to Jesus of this communion, 
 to their society, and to the general assem- 
 bly and church of the first-born in heaven, — 
 there, all accounted worthy of this blessedness 
 will finally meet and have a grateful recog- 
 nition of former friendships, and of each other, 
 as disciples of the one common Saviour, — 
 parted here for a season by the unsparing 
 hand of death, but reunited now in a purer, 
 happier, perfect love, to dwell together for- 
 ever, with no fear or possibility of severance 
 during everlasting ages. This is a prospect 
 which may well sustain and comfort us as, 
 amid changes and trials, we go on to finish 
 our course on earth. The end will soon be 
 reached, and beyond shines one eternal day ; 
 there God, the sun, forever reigns and scatters 
 night away, and lost ones restored to our em- 
 brace will be taken from us never, no never. 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 241 
 
 I have thus, my friends, speaking from a 
 sorrowing, smitten heart, indicated to you 
 some of the sources of consolation opened to 
 us in the loving-kindness of God, and to which 
 we are invited to have recourse in seasons of 
 adversity and trial, I commend them to you, 
 my dear people, in the earnestness of a pastor's 
 love and a pastor's care. Many of you may 
 not feel the need of them now. I see you 
 here to-day in health and happiness ; parents 
 surrounded by their children, no one of their 
 number missing; and happy family circles 
 that have never yet been broken in upon by 
 death, nor clothed in garments of mourning. 
 But the past is no security for the future, nor 
 are present happy circumstances any pledge of 
 what will be to-morrow. I stood here last 
 Sabbath, urging upon you the duty and priv- 
 ilege of prayer, and though not without anx- 
 iety from what I had heard the afternoon 
 preceding, I had no apprehension of what was 
 passing on a bed of suffering in the home of 
 one dear to me as life, or that within a few 
 
242 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 hours I should be written childless. But so it 
 was, and while you were assembled here for 
 worship, I was on my way to the place of be- 
 reavement and sorrow. And in my loneliness 
 and great fear of what might be before me, I 
 tried to console my feelings and prepare for 
 the mournful issue, by dwelling on the thoughts 
 I have now laid before you. Take them to 
 your bosoms, my beloved friends ; you may 
 soon have need of them ; know what the 
 sources of consolation are while yet the hand 
 of bereavement is stayed and the cup of sor- 
 row is not pressed to your lips. It will be no 
 time to discover them or to find your way to 
 them when the blow has fallen and you are 
 crushed by its weight. Let the great truth of 
 an all-wise, overruling Providence ever be pre- 
 sent to your minds, your stay and support in 
 the day of trouble. Learn to look upon the 
 trials of life as disciplinary, educational, adapted 
 and designed to detach you from the world and 
 to fit you for a higher and happier state of 
 being. Ever be prepared to meet trials, in a 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 243 
 
 state of mind that will bring God near to you ; 
 a very present help in trouble, on whom you 
 may cast your burdens and find Him ready 
 to sustain you. When afflicted and tried in 
 the death of near and loved relatives and 
 friends, remember that these afflictions are but 
 for a moment, and the separation which you 
 now mourn will soon be followed by an eternal 
 reunion in heaven. 
 
 These thoughts which I thus commend to 
 you, I have found precious to myself in this 
 day of my sorrow. Would that I could bring 
 them nearer to my heart, and draw from them 
 more abundantly the consolation they are fitted 
 to afford. I cannot but feel under the stroke 
 that has fallen so heavily upon me. The 
 heart smitten will bleed, the fountain of tears 
 unsealed will flow. I know who has done it, 
 and though I know not now why He has done 
 it, I doubt not that He had wise and good 
 reasons, and that what now seems so deeply 
 mysterious and trying, has upon it the charac- 
 ter of a Father's love, and I shall yet see it. 
 
244 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 Still the thought is a bitter one, — I teas a father^ 
 and I ham lost all. Of six children, not one 
 lives to call me Ly that endearing name. The 
 last is gone, laid by the side of four others, 
 while a fifth lies entombed on the shore of the 
 Bosphorus, — separated here^ but united tliere^ 
 and there I hope ere long to meet them. 
 
 After what you heard at the funeral exer- 
 cises last Wednesday, I deem it unnecessary, 
 and it might seem improper, to say much touch- 
 ing the brief life and sudden death of my dear 
 son. I may, at another time and in another 
 form,* perhaps, say something of him more 
 particular. He was born and trained here in 
 the midst of you. He was baptized in this 
 church. For many years he was a member of 
 our Sabbath-school. Here he professed his 
 faith in Christ ; here he worshipped and com- 
 muned at the table of the Lord; and here 
 he has often stood to preach the Gospel and 
 commend to you the Saviour whom he loved. I 
 am happy to think of him, as having, in the whole 
 
 * That has now been done by a mother's hand. 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 245 
 
 of his brief course, maintained a singularly- 
 pure, untarnished character, sincere, open, kind, 
 honest and unassuming in all his intercourse 
 with others, winning from them a willing trib- 
 ute of confidence, affection and respect. Hap- 
 pily settled in the ministry, loving his people 
 and loved by them, he was, in the estimation 
 of all who were best acquainted with him, 
 especially in these latter months, fast increas- 
 ing in mental vigor, in warm, earnest piety, in 
 devotedness to his work, and in all the qualifica- 
 tions which promised to raise him high as a 
 faithful, efficient and useful minister of Christ. 
 These things were noticed by his parents, by 
 his people, and by his brethren in the ministry, 
 who had the most intimate intercourse with 
 him; and I was happy in the thought, that, 
 while I should have him to lean upon in my 
 declining age, he would remain to preach the 
 Gospel to his fellow-men, when I should be 
 silent in my grave. But he is gone, and I am 
 left alone. But, blessed be God, I do not 
 mourn as one that has no hope. The summons 
 
246 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 to depart, though coming suddenly, found him 
 not unprepared. His Saviour came near to 
 him in the agonizing, dying scene, and he ut- 
 tered many words of strong faith and hope, as 
 well as of calm submission and peace. These, 
 dear departed one, we accept as thy last pre- 
 cious legacy to thy sorrowing parents and 
 friends, and as comforting pledges of soon meet- 
 ing thee again in the happy home whither 
 thou hast gone before us. Henceforth, I would 
 learn from the suddenness as well as from the 
 peace of thy death, to prepare the better for 
 my own ; happy if, reminded by these changes 
 and this decaying strength of the frailty of my 
 life and of the account I must soon give of my 
 ministry, I may be ready for the summons. 
 Deprived of all my children and left alone, as 
 it were, in the world, with none to stay up my 
 steps or bear my name to a coming generation, 
 henceforth I would "devote to the flock, 
 which I have to feed with the word of life, 
 the remnants of a voice that falters and a 
 strength that is fading away." 
 
NO NIGHT IN HEAVEN* 
 
 " There shall be no night there."— Rev. xxi. 25. 
 
 The views which men entertain of heaven 
 are very apt to be modified and colored by 
 their own peculiar temperament and habits. 
 It is said of the late William Wilberforce of 
 England, that he loved to think of heaven as 
 a place of rest ; and the reason of it was, he 
 was a man ever burdened with cares, and for 
 many years was incessantly harassed and op- 
 pressed with the toils and responsibilities of 
 public life. He wanted rest. On the other 
 hand, Robert Hall loved to think of heaven 
 as a place where there should be no more 
 pain ; and the reason in his case was, that, 
 during the greater part of his life, he was 
 
 * It will at once be seen that the occasion of this discourse was 
 the same as that of the preceding. Both grew out of a scene of 
 bereavement and sorrow, and they are now published in the hope 
 that the sentiments they contain may afford light and comfort to 
 some when called to drink of the bitter cup. 
 
248 ERSKINE J, HAWES. 
 
 subjected to extreme bodily suffering, and 
 often to the most excruciating torture. But 
 the idea of heaven presented in the text is 
 more general and comprehensive than either 
 of these. It denotes freedom from darkness, 
 or obscurity of mental vision; and from all 
 perplexity, suffering and trial. The term 
 night as used in the text, is a figurative ex- 
 pression to denote exemption from whatever 
 is obscure, intricate, mysterious, and trying in 
 our present state of being. It is often so used 
 in the Scriptures, and also in common dis- 
 course ; and accepted in this sense, it will help 
 us to form some views of the heavenly state, 
 which, to some present at least, it cannot fail 
 to be interesting and instructive. 
 
 It is well remarked by the excellent Richard 
 Cecil, that " though the word of God furnishes 
 a minister with a rich variety of topics, yet 
 his discourses will be mu^h influenced by his 
 feelings, and colored by his own experience. 
 Is he a man strong in faith and buoyant in 
 spirit ? like one standing upon a mountain, he 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 249 
 
 will naturally discourse to others of the firm- 
 ness of the foundation on which he stands, 
 and will describe to them the beauties of the 
 prospects around him. Does he, on the con- 
 trary, tread the valley of tears ? he will then 
 naturally become the companion of the afilicted, 
 and point out to them what he himself learns 
 in the vale." Placed as I am, in the provi- 
 dence of God, in this latter state, amid the 
 shades of night that have gathered around me, 
 and the swelling of deep waters through which 
 I am called to pass, my thoughts naturally 
 seek relief by turning to scenes above and 
 beyond the things of earth and time, to that 
 pure and happy heaven, of which it is said in 
 the text, " there shall be no night there." Let us 
 dwell on this thought. There is much in it to 
 sustain and to animate, while, as pilgrims, we so- 
 journ in this dark and mysterious state of being. 
 It is night now; but it will be full, bright day 
 hereafter. Let me mention a few things which 
 properly characterize the present as our night 
 state. Here we see almost all things, especially 
 
 12 
 
250 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 sucli as relate to spiritual objects, through a 
 dark, imperfect medium. We think of God, for 
 example, the great first cause and upholder of 
 all things. Wherever we turn, we see evidence 
 that such a being exists, and we cannot but 
 feel that in Him we live and move and have 
 our being ; Himself, everywhere present, inde- 
 pendent of and ruling over all. But how 
 little do we know of this invisible, mysterious, 
 almighty Being? How deep the night that 
 hides Him from our view ; veils his character and 
 ways from our scrutiny and our comprehension ! 
 Canst thou by searching find out God? canst 
 thou find out the Almighty unto perfection ? It 
 is as high as heaven ; what canst thou do ? 
 deeper than hell ; what canst thou know ? The 
 measure thereof is longer than the earth, and 
 broader than the sea. There is no searching 
 of his understanding; no comprehending of 
 his mysterious, unfathomable attributes or the 
 eternal counsels of his infinite mind ? Enough 
 is known to lay a perfect ground of confidence 
 and hope ; but oh, how little, in this our uight 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 251 
 
 state, are we able to compreliend of that 
 infinite, eternal Being, who reigns in high 
 authority over all worlds, orders all the changes 
 of life, and holds our immortal destiny in his 
 hands ? 
 
 I have referred to the counsels of God, to the 
 plans and purposes of the infinite Mind. These 
 embrace the universe in all its parts, and 
 extend to all creatures and events. But how 
 little do we know of them ; how profoundly 
 are they concealed from our view ; hidden in 
 the bosom of the Eternal, so that we can know 
 nothing of them, only as they are developed 
 in providence or are faintly shadowed forth, in 
 some of their parts, in the book of revelation. 
 God gives no account of the designs and pur- 
 poses according to which He governs the 
 world ; and they are enveloped in deep night 
 till they are brought to light in the move- 
 ments of that mighty Providence which fore- 
 sees, pervades, and rules over all. 
 
 And then this Providence — what a deep 
 unknown; what a sea unfathomable is it to 
 
252 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 US ! Look back and read the history of the 
 past, and how much do we discover which 
 seems to us profoundly mysterious and utterly 
 inexplicable in this our night state of being ! 
 How different a world is this from what we 
 might expect to proceed from the hand of 
 such a being as God, and how differently has 
 it been and is governed ! Whence came 
 sin and all the misery and woe which have 
 overspread the world for six thousand years ? 
 If God is infinitely powerful, how easily might 
 He have prevented the evils under which our 
 race has so long groaned, and suffered, and 
 died ! If He is infinitely wise and good, why 
 did He not do it ? So we reason, and yet we 
 are confronted by stern facts, and our reason- 
 ing is naught. This whole subject is wrapped 
 in deep mystery. I see no way to explain the 
 difficulties involved in it. The facts are before 
 me. I feel their sad pressure on my spirit, and 
 I see their crushing weight as they fall upon 
 my fellow men. But no ray of light comes 
 to disclose to me the reason why sin came 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 258 
 
 into the world ; why the earth is strewed with 
 the dying and the dead, and why such mul- 
 titudes are left to live and die in their sins, 
 and be lost forever. It is night, dark night in 
 my view in relation to all that is connected 
 with the existence of natural and moral evil, 
 and the terrible consequences that are to result 
 from this state of things in a future world. 
 
 Then, if we look at the course of events, as 
 developed in God's providential government 
 of the world, how much there is in it that is 
 dark and mysterious ! how entirely unlike what 
 might have been anticipated from the known 
 character of God ! We know that He is a 
 Being of infinite wisdom and mercy, and loves 
 to communicate happiness to his creatures; yet 
 we see them everywhere sunk in ignorance 
 and sin, oppressed with calamity, surrounded 
 by miseries, and we find that man has, in all 
 ages and conditions, been born to trouble as 
 the sparks fly upward. 
 
 A way has been opened in the Gospel for 
 the enlightenment and salvation of man ; and 
 
254 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 from the known design of God in providing 
 a Saviour, and the all-sufficiency of his grace 
 to meet the deepest wants of our race, it might 
 have been expected that long, long ere this, 
 centuries ago, the tidings of salvation would 
 have been proclaimed through the earth, and 
 all have been recovered from the power and 
 misery of sin and restored to the image and 
 favor of God. 
 
 But how very limited, as yet, is the knowl- 
 edge of the Gospel, and how little has been 
 done by its light and power, compared with 
 what might have been anticipated from the 
 divine principles it contains, from the character 
 of its author and the interest it possesses in 
 the heart of God! How dark, how inexpli- 
 cable is this fact : God's great remedy for the 
 sins and woes of our race known only to a 
 small part of mankind, and that after a lapse 
 of more than eighteen hundred years. A 
 great part of the world is no better than if 
 Christ had never come to save lost men, and 
 the Gospel had never been proclaimed. Many 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 255 
 
 who hear it are even the worse for what they 
 hear ; for where it is not a savor of life unto 
 life, it is a savor of death unto death. 
 
 I might here refer to many of the doctrines 
 of Scripture, and show that while they are 
 sufficiently clear and full to guide and assist us 
 in duty and point out for us a safe way to 
 heaven, there is much, very much in them 
 which we do not comprehend, and which, while 
 in our present state, must always appear ob- 
 scure and mysterious. 
 
 But I have time only to notice further the 
 obscurity of providence, its dark and intricate 
 dealings with ourselves. If we look to our past, 
 how many things in our history are wrapped in 
 night: we can give no explanation of them. 
 They came upon us suddenly, unexpectedly, 
 and we knew not till an unseen hand was 
 upon us, leading us into unknown paths, and 
 in ways entirely hidden from our view. And if 
 we turn to the future ; what do we know of it ? 
 It is all veiled in obscurity. We cannot see a 
 step before us, nor know what a single day or 
 
256 
 
 ERSKINE J. HA WES. 
 
 hour may bring forth. This only we know 
 that changes and trials await us ; for they are 
 the common allotment of all; but in what 
 form and at what time they will come upon 
 us is known only to Him in whose hand is our 
 life and breath, and whose are all our ways. 
 Oh, as we cast an eye along the path that is to 
 conduct us to the grave, how little do we 
 know what is to befall us; how unseen the 
 descending stroke of affliction and bereave- 
 ment ; how hidden is the time and manner of 
 our death, and how deep the night that hides 
 the scenes of eternity from our view, except 
 only as by the light of faith and hope we may 
 anticipate that we shall find the favor of God 
 through Christ, and enter into a state of ever- 
 lasting blessedness. 
 
 I might expatiate much more on this part 
 of my subject. But let us pass to consider 
 that this night state of our being, as I call it, 
 is to be succeeded by one of bright, everlast- 
 ing day. There shall be no night there. The 
 reference here is to heaven — the world of per- 
 
DISCOURSE. 257 
 
 feet purity and everlasting blessedness, revealed 
 as the future home of all the redeemed of the 
 Lord. Of that world we can, in our present 
 state, have but a very imperfect conception. 
 The fact that there is a holy and a happy heaven 
 prepared as the future abode of the righteous, 
 is clearly made known to us in the Scriptures. 
 It is a place ; a place of infinite magnificence 
 and beauty ; forever illumined by the presence 
 of God, and adorned with all that ,is suited to 
 satisfy the purest and noblest desires of our 
 immortal minds, and to advance us forever in 
 knowledge, in holiness, and happiness. Still 
 our conceptions of heaven, in this dark and 
 shadowy state of being, must of course be ex- 
 ceedingly inadequate. It is of necessity repre- 
 sented to us under sensible images, or images 
 drawn from sensible objects with which we 
 are here familiar — grand and beautiful indeed, 
 and yet as used to set before us spiritual 
 things, must fall far short of the reality. Sev- 
 eral of these images are presented to us in 
 
 the context. Heaven is there spoken of as a 
 12* 
 
258 
 
 ERSKINE J. 
 
 HA WES. 
 
 vast city, with walls and gates and streets of 
 pure gold and pearl and transparent glass. 
 Jobn, who bad a vision of it, says : " I saw no 
 temple therein ; for the Lord God Almighty 
 and the Lamb are the temple of it. And the 
 city had no need of the sun, neither of the 
 moon to shine in it ; for the glory of the Lord 
 doth lighten it, and the Lamb is the light 
 thereof. And the nations of them which are 
 saved shall walk in the light of it, and 
 the kings of the earth do bring their 
 glory and honor into it. And the gates 
 of it shall not be shut at all by day, for 
 there shall be no night there. And they shall 
 bring the glory and honor of the nations into 
 it. And there shall in no wise enter into it 
 anything that defileth, neither whatsoever 
 worketh abomination, or maketh a lie ; but 
 they which are written in the Lamb's book of 
 Life." Now all these are obviously figurative 
 expressions, designed to give us the fullest and 
 most impressive conception of heaven and its 
 glories of which we are now capable, but 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 259 
 
 which, no doubt, comes far short of the reality, 
 and may, in many respects, as it lies in our 
 minds, be very unlike the reality. Thus in 
 regard to the expression in our text, " There 
 shall be no night there it is, as before inti- 
 mated, to be taken in a figurative sense ; and 
 thus viewed, it means, not merely that there 
 is to be no literal darkness in heaven, but 
 nothing of which nisfht is the emblem — no 
 obscurity, no perplexity, no calamity, or sorrow, 
 or bereavement, no dark, mysterious providences 
 of any kind to try our faith and cast their 
 shadows on the future. It will then be all 
 day, all bright, unclouded light. Here is our 
 night state. There night will have passed away 
 forever, and clear, full day will shine upon us 
 for eternal ages. There^ there will be no 
 night in regard to the character and perfec- 
 tions of God. For He is the sun of that 
 world, and his glory doth lighten it for ever 
 and ever. And they need no candle, neither 
 the light of the sun ; for the Lord God will 
 shine forth there in all the glory of his attri- 
 
260 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 butes; "will manifest himself as He is with 
 such clearness and fullness of light as will 
 scatter all the darkness that now hangs over 
 our minds in regard to his being and perfec- 
 tions ; for, as the Scriptures assure us, we shall 
 dwell in his presence, shall see Him as He is, 
 see Him, face to face, and know Him even as 
 we are known. Our minds, too, freed from 
 all the weakness and obscurity that attend us 
 in this our fallen state, and made equal unto 
 the angels, as we are assured they will be 
 if we are found with the redeemed in heaven, 
 we shall be qualified to know God as now we 
 cannot, and to apprehend the glory and ex- 
 cellence of his character and ways, far, far 
 beyoud what we can at present have any con- 
 ception of 
 
 Then, too, there will be no more uight in 
 regard to the purposes of God, his government, 
 and his plan of salvation for lost men. This 
 world's great drama will then be closed ; the 
 design of God in its creation and government 
 accomplished, and all that is now dark and 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 261 
 
 mysterious in relation to this subject will be 
 cleared up. We shall then see, certainly far 
 beyond what we now can, why sin was per- 
 mitted to enter this world, and with it the 
 sufferings and woes of so many thousand years. 
 We shall then see why ignorance and idolatry 
 and crime, and all the influences that combine 
 to make men miserable and fit them for des- 
 truction were suffered to hold so long and 
 fearful a sway on earth, and that too, notwith- 
 standing the full provision made in the good- 
 ness and mercy of God for the recovery of the 
 lost to his favor and kingdom. This whole 
 subject, wrapped in profound night now, will 
 then have shed upon it the light of perfect 
 day, amid the revelations of the heavenly 
 state. God will then be seen in the glory of 
 his holiness, his justice, his truth, and grace ; 
 his throne will stand vindicated before the 
 universe, his ways towards man fully justified ; 
 Himself loved, adored, and praised as worthy 
 of the supreme homage, obedience, and trust 
 of all intelligent beings. 
 
262 ERSKINE J. HA WES. 
 
 There will be no more niglit there in regard 
 to the providence of God, as administered over 
 the affairs of man, often now veiled in deep 
 mystery. All will then be cleared up, and it will 
 be seen that God had wise and good reasons 
 for all the events which we were called to ex- 
 perience in this state of probation and trial. 
 It will then be seen why so deep a veil hides 
 future scenes from our view, so that we cannot 
 know what a day may bring forth, nor be cer- 
 tain of life either for ourselves or others, a 
 single hour or moment. We shall then see 
 why the young, the vigorous, and the promis- 
 ing of long life and usefulness in the world 
 are often called away in the midst of their 
 days, while the feeble, the sickly, the wicked, 
 and the useless are spared to be a burden to 
 themselves and a sorrow and grief it may be 
 to others. We shall then see, too, why we 
 are so often tried, disappointed, and crossed 
 in our pathway in life ; why our favorite plans 
 are disconcerted, our brightest hopes dark- 
 ened, our most loved treasures taken from us. 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 263 
 
 and we left, as it were alone, to tread our soli- 
 tary way to the close of our earthly course. 
 All these things, now so inexplicable and 
 trying in this our night state, will all be ex- 
 plained in the light of that day, which is to 
 shine with no night forever, in the mansions 
 of heaven. There will then be found a need-he 
 in respect to the darkest and most trying events 
 that befall us in life ; and we shall then hnow 
 what it is now so hard for us sometimes to believe^ 
 that our severest trials are mercies in disguise, 
 and that our light afflictions, which are but for 
 a moment, work for us a far more and exceed- 
 ing weight of glory, while we look not at the 
 things that are seen, but at the things that 
 are not seen. Under the hand of God, all the 
 events of tinae, all the afflictions, changes and 
 to trials of life, are carried forward to give place 
 or to be united with that which is now unseen 
 and eternal. This is the development of the 
 whole plan, the explication of all the intricate 
 movements of Providence. Look at the things 
 which are unseen and eternal ; there is the 
 
264 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 state to which we are tending, and there we 
 shall know in perfection what we now know 
 onlj in part, and shall be satisfied that all has 
 been conducted in infinite Masdom and good- 
 ness, so as best to illustrate the gloiy of God, 
 and secure the highest happiness, present and 
 eternal, of them that love Him. In heaven 
 there will be no night in regard to the mode 
 of our entering that world, and our immediate 
 condition on arriving there. We shall then 
 have passed through the change of death and 
 the grave, and have entered the celestial city, 
 living, conscious, active beings ; and though, as 
 Isaac Taylor well suggests, in his Philosophy 
 of a Future State, it may take some time to 
 adjust ourselves to our new state of being, and 
 to the new laws of intercourse and action pre- 
 vailing around us ; we shall know that we are 
 at home in heaven, free from sin, from sorrow, 
 from death ; spiritual beings in the midst of a 
 spiritual world; surrounded by beings like 
 ourselves, in eternal harmony with them, 
 with God and all the holy subjects of his em- 
 
DISCOURSE. 265 
 
 pire. There will be no night there in regard 
 to the recognition of departed friends. We 
 have reason to believe that on leaving this 
 world, we shall enter at once into the society 
 of loved ones who have gone to heaven before 
 us, and that we shall know them, and be 
 known of them. How this will be in our 
 then changed mode of being and circumstan- 
 ces, it is not easy for us to conceive ; but it 
 will be plain hereafter, and friends will greet 
 friends, in mutual recognition and love, to part 
 no more forever. 
 
 There will be no night there in regard to 
 the manner of holding intercourse with the 
 redeemed of the Lord, and other beings of 
 higher order than ourselves ; or in regard to 
 what is to constitute our and their employ- 
 ments in the heavenly state. We know we 
 shall be active there, shall be able to pass from 
 place to place with the greatest ease, and shall 
 be occupied ever in ways perfectly suited to our 
 immortal natures, and adapted to carry us for- 
 ward forever in knowledge, -holiness, and hap- 
 
266 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 piness. At present, however, much obscurity 
 rests on these points. We view them as ob- 
 jects of Mth, revealed for our comfort and 
 hope in this state of our earthly pilgrimage ; 
 but the full vision and position of them are 
 reserved for that world where there is no more 
 night. There all these things will be known ; 
 known in our own happy experience and to our 
 everlasting joy and blessedness in the presence 
 of God and the Lamb. All darkness, all ob- 
 scurity, all perplexity trial and sorrow will 
 have fled away forever; and we shall have 
 before us the bright and glorious prospect of 
 eternal progi-ess in all that shall assimilate us 
 to God and fit us for the society and employ- 
 ments of angels and of glorified beings before 
 his throne. 
 
 The subject thus presented suggests many 
 deeply interesting reflections, but I have time 
 only to touch upon a few in the briefest manner, 
 leaving you to follow them out at your leisure 
 and to apply them to the practical concerns of 
 life. And,— 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 26Y 
 
 1. There is good reason for the saying of 
 the patriarch of old, — I would not live always. 
 Not that this world has no sources of consola- 
 tion and enjoyment. It has many ; and if we 
 were always in a state of mind to use them 
 right, no day of our life would pass, but we 
 should have fresh occasion for thanksgiving 
 and praise for the goodness and mercy shown 
 us by our Father in heaven. But this world 
 was never designed to be our home. It is not 
 the place of our rest ; we are soon to leave it ; 
 and while we remain in it, the trials and 
 changes that we meet with, or witness around 
 us, are fitted to remind us that this is our 
 night state, that we have here no continuing 
 city, but should seek one above where reigns 
 bright, eternal day. Better things than earth 
 contains are provided for us in heaven, and 
 with these in prospect, we may well take up the 
 language and say, as we pass along, I would 
 not live always. Who would wish to grope in 
 perpetual night, when by passing through a 
 door he might enjoy full, bright day ? or who 
 
268 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 would wish always to conflict with the .imper- 
 fections, the sins, the trials and sorrows of this 
 life, when he is invited to enter herein as his 
 eternal home, and there be blessed with perfect 
 freedom from all the ills of this probationary 
 state, and enjoy complete, everlasting happiness 
 in the presence of God his Saviour. This world, 
 too, even in its best form and highest enjoy- 
 ments will grow old, and after awhile lose all 
 its attractions. In Madame de Stael's memoirs 
 of her father we have this striking remark : " I 
 have a proof, says Mr. Nester, of the immor- 
 tality of the soul in this, that it is at least, 
 after awhile, desirable, and essential to our 
 happiness. By the time we have reached 
 three score years and ten, we have looked 
 around us and become familiar with the whole 
 scene ; and though not satisfied^ we are sated. 
 Then we feel our need of a new residence, a 
 new sphere of activity, and new sources of em- 
 ployment and enjoyment." This is a striking 
 remark, and duly impressed on the mind, we 
 
DISCOURSE. 
 
 269 
 
 can hardly refrain from exclaiming in the beau- 
 tiful language of the hymn : 
 
 " Who, who would live alway, away from his God, — . 
 Away from yon heaven, that blissM abode ? 
 Where the rivers of pleasure flow o'er the briglit plains, 
 And the noon-tide of glory eternally reigns ? 
 Where the saints of all ages in harmony meet ; 
 Their Saviour and brethren transported to greet ; 
 Whil;3 ihe anthems of rapture unceasingly roll , 
 And the smile of the Lord is the feast of the soul." 
 
 2. Christians have good reason, when they 
 come to die, to meet the change with cheerful- 
 ness and hope. They exchange night for day, 
 sin for holiness, sorrow for joy, earth for 
 heaven. They leave a world of darkness and 
 sin for a world of unclouded light and perfect 
 holiness. They leave a world of ignorance, 
 error, sorrow and death, for a world of perfect, 
 unerring knowledge, and of everlasting bless- 
 edness. That world is entered by the change 
 of death, — a change not indeed without its 
 pains and terrors, but transient and quickly 
 over, and when passed, the Christian enters at 
 once into a state, " where all things are as sub- 
 
210 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 stantial as here they are vain; where all things 
 are as momentous as here they are frivolous ; 
 where all things are as great as here they 
 are little; where all things are as enduring 
 as here they are ti-ansitory ; where all things 
 are as fixed as here they aj-e mutable; where, 
 in a word, God shines as the eternal sun, and 
 pours the light of his glory and blessedness 
 upon all the inhabitants of that holy and happy 
 world. Well might the Apostle, in the faith 
 and hope of such a world, say, I am in a strait 
 bewixt two ; I desire to go and be present with 
 Chi'ist, yet willing to remain, if it be God's 
 pleasure. But welcome the day of departure, 
 the hour of sweet release from this my night 
 state and of my introduction to a state of clear 
 sunshine and everlasting day. So every true 
 Christian has good ground to feel and to say, 
 when called to meet the change of death. 
 
 3. Our subject furnishes strong ground for 
 submission and consolation in the loss of fiiends 
 who have died in the Lord. They have gone 
 from us, we miss them in the family circle and 
 
DISCOURSE. 271 
 
 in the intercourse of life, and a thousand things 
 occur to bring them fresh to our memory, and 
 to remind us that we shall no more see or con- 
 verse with them in this world. And then the 
 heart will bleed, and the tears flow afresh. It 
 is not wrong to feel our loss and mourn when 
 loved ones are taken from us and we are to see 
 them no more as we pursue the lonely journey 
 of life. But there are sources of consolation 
 here which we may not overlook. Our dear 
 departed friends who have died in the Lord, — 
 where are they ? In that world where there 
 is no more darkness ; where all is light ; where 
 shines one unclouded, everlasting day. There 
 they are freed from all the imperfections, weak- 
 nesses, temptations, sins and sorrows of this 
 life, and transformed perfectly into the image 
 of Christ, they behold his glory, dwell in his 
 presence, and are entered into the mansions pre- 
 pared for them in their Father's house above. 
 They are now satisfied; all that was dark, 
 trying to them, in this world, is cleared up ; 
 the book of Providence is now unsealed to 
 
272 
 
 ERSKINE J. HA WES. 
 
 their view, and every page of it, however ob- 
 scure and mysterious here, is now read in the 
 light of he'aven, and every word and letter of 
 it is seen to have been inscribed by unerring, 
 everlasting wisdom and goodness. And them- 
 selves who once walked in darkness here and 
 saw no light, are constrained to exclaim, — He 
 hath done all things well. Marvellous are thy 
 woi'ks. Lord God Almighty: just and true are 
 all thy ways, O thou King of saints. 
 
 So it is with all our friends who have died 
 in the Lord and entered into heaven. And 
 should not this satisfy us, and more than satisfy 
 us ? Should it not even call forth our thanks- 
 giving and praise? They have left us for a 
 little while ; have reached the goal and gained 
 the crown for which they strove in life, and 
 now victors in the presence of their Saviour 
 and King, they wait to welcome us to their 
 society and to their rewards in heaven forever. 
 Wherefore, my brethren, comfort one another 
 with these precious truths. Some of us feel 
 the need of this comfort to day ; others may 
 
DISCOURSE. ' 2V3 
 
 soon feel the need of it, for the cup of sorrow 
 is passing round and to whose lips it will next 
 be pressed, we know not ; happy will it be for 
 us if Avhen called to part with friends, we can 
 think of them as passed into the world where 
 there is no more night, and where we may 
 hope to meet them when the time of our de- 
 parture shall come. 
 
 4. Prospects ineffably glorious are before us, 
 if we are indeed the disciples of Christ and 
 heirs of his kingdom. The present night state 
 in which we live will soon pass away, and with 
 it all obscui'ity, perplexity and trial forever, 
 and instead will dawn upon us, a day which has 
 no night, a day of eternal sunshine, of revela- 
 tion, and glory and blessedness in the kingdom 
 of our Fathei" and Saviour. This prospect is 
 before us, it hastens on apace, and soon, if found 
 faithful, we shall realize it in all its glory and 
 blessedness. As this world- passes away, an- 
 other opens to our view. This prospect en- 
 livens the solitudes which bereavement and 
 decays of nature produce. This prospect be- 
 13 
 
274 
 
 ERSKINE J. HAWES. 
 
 comes a substitute for the scenes and charms 
 which have faded and fled. This prospect en- 
 tertains and engages, when the days are come 
 in which we say, I have no pleasure in them. 
 The outward man perisheth, but the inward 
 man is renewed day l)y day. Our heart and 
 flesh fail, but God is the strength of our heai-t 
 and our portion forever. We depart, but we 
 leave what is not our rest, what is dark, unsatis- 
 fying and passeth away, — while we enter a 
 creation where everything that is new, and 
 grand and pui-e, and attractive and beautifying, 
 says, — Arise and come away. And the hour 
 that obscures and quenches forever all other 
 glories, raises us, if Christians, to immortal life 
 and blessedness in heaven. But, oh, if not 
 Christians, not disciples and followers of the 
 Saviour in a life of faith and love and de- 
 votion to his service, the reverse of all this 
 will come upon us, — and instead of the sen- 
 tence, — Come, ye blessed of my Father; inherit 
 the kingdom prepared for you from the foun- 
 dation of the world, we must hear the fearful 
 
DISCOURSE. 275 
 
 doom— Depart ye accursed into everlasting 
 fire prepared for the devil and his angels. An 
 awful alternative; it is set before each one of 
 us: in view of it we are called each one to 
 make our choice for eternity. 
 
1