READINGS FROM 
 
 COLONIAL PROSE 
 
 AND POETRY 
 
 PRENT- WELLS 
 
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 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH 
 
Colonial Prose and Poetry 
 
 EDITED BY 
 WILLIAM P. TRENT 
 
 AND 
 
 BENJAMIN W. WELLS 
 
 THE 
 TRANSPLANTING OF CULTURE 
 
 1607-1650 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 THOMAS Y. CROWELL CO. 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
4 
 
 Copyright, 1901, 1903, 
 By THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 
 

 PREFACE. 
 
 The present series of volumes illustrating the lit— 
 ature of the American colonies aims especially to 
 now the development of national culture and ideals. 
 Although not eschewing them, it does not deal pri- 
 marily with political life or with historical interests. 
 It attempts to present mainly in modernized spelling 
 such passages from the works of colonial authors 
 as reveal most of literary art, of individual genius, 
 and of the national mind in the process of its differ- 
 entiation. 
 
 That the survey might be full yet not prolix the 
 selections have often been shortened by the omission 
 of passages that would weary a modern reader, but 
 such omissions have always been indicated, and care 
 has been taken that they should not be of a character 
 to affect the sense of what remains. The literature 
 of any nation in its formative period requires win- 
 nowing if it is to attract that same nation in its 
 maturity ; for much is antiquated that is neither sig- 
 nificant nor curious. Yet our colonial writers bear 
 comparison with those of any other race under simi- 
 lar conditions. Many who have gone to them with 
 
 42777u 
 
IV N PREFACE. 
 
 a smile have remained to be edified. In the earlier 
 period men lived earnestly if not largely, they thought 
 highly if not broadly, they felt nobly if not always J 
 with magnanimity. Resourcefulness, self-reliance, 
 individuality, were the virtues fashioned by primitive $ 
 circumstances, and these asserted themselves in the 
 later period as more enduring elements in the national 
 character than the Cavalier traditions of Virginia or 
 the Puritanism of l^ew England. 
 
 It 'is, then, the gradual transformation of the 
 national literature with the national character that 
 is exhibited in these volumes. Brief accounts are 
 given of each author, and the essays at the beginning 
 of the several volumes endeavor to gather up the 
 characteristics of each period and to draw from them 
 their lessons with regard to national evolution. Where 
 special obligations to books and editors are due, they 
 have been acknowledged in the text ; here hearty 
 thanks are tendered to the courteous officials of the 
 library of Columbia University. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Introduction . 
 Captain John Smith 
 Colonel Norwood 
 William Bradford 
 Mourt's Relation 
 Thomas Morton 
 Francis Higginson 
 John Winthrop 
 The Bay Psalm Book 
 John Underhill 
 John Mason . 
 John Cotton . 
 Roger Williams 
 Thomas Hooker 
 Thomas Shepard 
 Nathaniel Ward 
 Anne Bradstreet 
 
 PAGE 
 
 vii 
 
 i 
 
 23 
 
 34 
 
 65 
 
 7° 
 
 80 
 
 90 
 
 120 
 
 127 
 
 140 
 
 156 
 
 182 
 
 214 
 
 230 
 
 250 
 
 271 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 tury and a half, cannot be regarded (even by the 
 charitable) as being of great intrinsic value. The 
 interest that it possesses is political, social, or reli- 
 gious, not literary or imaginative. And yet it gives 
 to the critic of literature an opportunity, such as the 
 beginnings of hardly any other literature afford, to 
 study the effects of environment upon the literary 
 powers and products of a transplanted race. 
 
 It is usually held that transplantation to the Ameri- 
 can wilderness repressed the literary pow r ers of the 
 colonists who were too busy planting corn and re- 
 pelling Indians to devote much attention to literature. 
 Yet it is to be remembered that the colonists repre- 
 sented stocks that on the whole showed no great 
 literary vitality at home. Except for Milton, Mar- 
 veil, and a few less important names, Puritanism did 
 extremely little for English poetry, not much for 
 English prose. Nor did the Cavaliers, as a body 
 outside of the court circle, rise in England greatly 
 above the level of Virginia culture. Transplantation, 
 it may be suspected', neither developed nor retarded 
 the production of imaginative literature, but the new 
 environment in New England did have a very con- 
 siderable effect in directing writers to pietistic and 
 controversial subjects, for religion was the only ideal 
 
Vlll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 element in Puritan life, and the main feature of their 
 relations with the outside world. 
 
 During the period covered by this volume there 
 were, as we have just assumed, two centres of influ- 
 ence, Virginia and Massachusetts, Cavalier and Puri- 
 tan, the former an extension of county England, 
 the latter of English borough life. Or, to use literary 
 symbols and to compare small things with great, the 
 two earliest colonies represented respectively the 
 England of Herrick, Carew, and Lovelace, and 
 the England of Milton, Bunyan, and Baxter. At 
 the very outset we meet with a typical Cavalier, a 
 burly survival of knight-errantry, Captain John Smith, 
 and he, though not strictly speaking an American, 
 is typical of the adventurers, English country gentle- 
 men, younger sons, plain town and country folk, who 
 settled the southern colony. They were uncourtly 
 but yet genuinely aristocratic, and, developing the 
 aristocratic virtues of bravery and lavish hospitality, 
 they formed a sort of feudal nobility whose qualities 
 were accentuated by plantation life and by the ab- 
 sence of metropolitan standards. They brought with 
 them no deep-seated artistic impulses, few inherited 
 literary traditions. They produced little literature 
 and developed 'little culture. The repression of 
 learning and the printing press was the least of their 
 grievances against Governor Berkeley, even as late as 
 1676. They lived quite aloof from the political 
 struggles of their time, and were quite untouched by 
 its scientific or artistic achievements. 
 
 And if we turn to Massachusetts the case is not 
 much better, though it is different. There was here 
 a nobler purpose. Such leaders as Bradford and 
 
INTRODUCTION. IX 
 
 Winthrop do not lack inspiring qualities, nor such 
 figures as those of Captain Standish, the apostolic John 
 Eliot, the tolerant Roger Williams, and the whole 
 intolerant, but pious, learned, and commanding Brah- 
 min caste of Puritan divines, qualities quaintly pic- 
 turesque and attractive. But, when all is said, the 
 annals of Colonial New England also are sadly 
 wanting in perspective. The sober aristocracy of 
 clergymen and magistrates, the plain democracy of 
 God-fearing farmers, thrifty merchants, hardy fisher- 
 men and sailors, have, it is true, an interest for latter- 
 day Americans. Hawthorne has shown how their 
 life lent itself to literary treatment. But they did 
 not discover it. Even though their numerous towns 
 gave them what Virginia lacked, the advantages of 
 social solidarity, they too had no deep-seated artistic 
 impulses and few inherited literary instincts and as- 
 pirations. Their thoughts were bent on religion. 
 In this they lived and of this they wrote. But their 
 religion was narrow, individualistic, voicing itself not 
 in a Divi?ie Comedy, which they would have rejected, 
 but in a Day of Doom, which they took literally to 
 heart. Yet the muses were not without witness in 
 either colony, and, though it is impossible here to 
 describe adequately this exiguous production, it is 
 worth while to remind the reader or its existence, 
 that he may have some conception of the range of 
 those writings whose quality the following pages are 
 to illustrate. And for our purposes it will be most 
 perspicuous to consider first the writers of verse, few 
 of whom yield materials for our use, then the annal- 
 ists, and finally the theologians. 
 
 Such verse writing as there was at first naturally 
 
X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 followed British models, which is one reason for giv- 
 ing it attention before the work that is more directly 
 a product of the new environment and experiences. 
 Most of the annalists lapsed into verse at times, 
 following the distinguished example of John Smith, 
 but none of them, or of the clergy, shows in the 
 first generations anything that springs from the heart 
 of the people, or even any transmutation of alien 
 culture. Individuals write as best they may accord- 
 ing to familiar British models, just as most of our 
 poets do to-day. Of this fact our first quasi-Ameri- 
 can poem, Rich's New es from Virginia, is an illus- 
 tration. The sojourn in America of this " soldier 
 blunt and plain" was brief, and literary Virginia 
 has no cause to dispute his possession with the mother 
 country ; though during the colonial period that colony 
 had little verse that is nameworthy, save the eulogy 
 of Nathaniel Bacon in the " Epitaph made by his 
 Man," probably the only single product of sustained 
 poetic art written in the first century and a half of 
 Colonial America, but by a poet who has left us not 
 even the shadow of his name. 
 
 In New England, as might have been expected, 
 the general average of versification was less crude 
 and the versifiers far more numerous, society being 
 more serious-minded and far more scholarly. Gov- 
 ernor Bradford and Governor Winthrop both wrote 
 occasional verses of ponderous meditation, William 
 Morrell and William Wood composed descriptive 
 verses, as did the anonymous author of New Eng- 
 land' s Annoyances, but these can pass for poetry only 
 by comparison with the superlative crudity of the 
 Bay Psalm Book, the first volume printed in British 
 
INTRODUCTION. XI 
 
 America. Very little better is the swarm of epi- 
 taphs, elegies, and memorial verses, though the divines 
 that made these feeble concessions to despised art 
 were not unable to hold their own with their British 
 brethren. The larger part of this verse is embedded 
 in the prose works, like flies in very cloudy amber, 
 else surely it had never seen even an opaque light. 
 Typical of this constant "dropping into verse " is 
 Nathaniel Ward's Simple Cobbler 3 of which pres- 
 ently. 
 
 There is but one person, during the period we are 
 considering, who might have been and is almost a 
 poet, Mrs. Anne Bradstreet, "the tenth Muse lately 
 sprung up in America," as her brother-in-law called 
 her, daughter and wife of Colonial Governors, and 
 not unworthy to have graced a chair in Madeleine 
 de Scudery's famous Salon of the Precieuses, or even 
 in the Chambre Bleue of Arthenice, though she was 
 ever a sturdy Puritan, and as one of her admirers said 
 " a right DuBartas girl." Examples of her poetry 
 and an encomium of it will be found elsewhere. We 
 are concerned now to note the instant response of the 
 colonists in their appreciation of the " fair authoress." 
 Their clumsy tributes show a naive admiration, which 
 suggests that they would have appreciated better 
 poetry, though it is a curious fact that we have no 
 trace of the existence of a copy of Shakespeare in 
 New England during the seventeenth century. Yet 
 she had little rhetorical art, and seems blind to the 
 natural beauty about her. In style, form, and subject 
 she, too, is an echo of Puritan England, though show- 
 ing in her maturity more of the influence of Spenser 
 than of Sylvester or of Quarles. It is a curious fact 
 
xn INTRODUCTION. 
 
 in literary heredity that among Mrs. Bradstreet's 
 descendants are the poets R. H. Dana and Oliver 
 Wendell Holmes, and the orator Wendell Phillips. 
 Her father and sister also wrote verses, and among 
 others who essayed poetry may be named Captain 
 Edward Johnson, John Josselyn, and even Roger 
 Williams. The last estate of poetry in the century 
 was perhaps its most desperate one. Peter Folger 
 in his Looking Glass for the Times is absolutely the 
 most garrulously naive and the most unpoetic of his 
 land and century. His poem is the Ormulum of 
 America and it betters the instruction. 
 
 The typical versifier of Puritan New England is 
 doubtless Michael Wigglesworth, and the typical 
 poem the Day of Doom, an awful, but to the Puritan 
 mind, congenial theme, in treating which he displayed 
 not a little curious ingenuity. He was the most 
 facile and prolific of what we may call the school of 
 Sternhold and Hopkins. Wigglesworth and Folger 
 are, however, reserved for treatment in our second 
 volume, when we enter upon a new poetic order 
 corresponding to a moral and social change. The 
 religious commonwealth is becoming secular, life is 
 no longer a series of vicissitudes, love of wealth 
 and comfort is beginning to supplant the fear of the 
 Lord. Let us therefore retrace our steps and watch 
 the progress of the same change in those prose annals 
 and tractates in which the sturdy colonists found 
 a more congenial and appropriate form of self- 
 expression. 
 
 The first prose efforts of the colonists, whether in 
 New England or Virginia, were naturally confined 
 to sending home news of their doings that might pro- 
 
INTRODUCTION. xiii 
 
 cure them companions in arms and labors. Here 
 priority in time, and perhaps primacy in interest, be- 
 longs to Captain John Smith's True Relation, to 
 which indeed American literature can lay but scant 
 claim, any more than to similar writings of Percy, 
 Strachey, Pory, and Whittaker. These told of the 
 first years of struggle. In the fairly prosperous 
 period that followed there was a decided lull in 
 literary activity until a certain Colonel Norwood nar- 
 rated to Sir William Berkeley his hairbreadth 'scapes 
 on a voyage to Virginia. His story is interesting to 
 us as a witness to the growing suppleness of English 
 prose. Norwood was no artist, but he had at least 
 got rid of much of the cumbrous phraseology of his 
 predecessors. Yet for the moment in Virginia his 
 example availed little. The government was dis- 
 tinctly illiberal, the Governor an obscurantist. " I 
 thank God," he said, " there are no free schools nor 
 printing, and hope we shall not have them this hun- 
 dred year. For learning has brought disobedience 
 and heresy and sects into the world, and printing has 
 divulged them, and libels against the best govern- 
 ment. God keep us from both." It is a nemesis of 
 such illiberality that what is best worth reading of 
 the annals of Colonial Virginia in this century should 
 be the narratives of Bacon's rebellion against it. 
 
 Meantime Virginia's northern neighbor Maryland 
 had produced the scholarly Latin Relatio of the Jesuit 
 White, Hammond's Leah and Rachel and George 
 Alsop's quaint Character of the Province of Mary- 
 land. The latter's prose is better than his "melan- 
 choly Muse," who by the way is apt to be a very 
 indecorous person. If we pass from Maryland to 
 
XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 the northern colonies, we find ourselves among a 
 people not literary perhaps, yet intellectual and imagi- 
 native, a people who stood for an idea, who felt 
 that they were the vanguard of freedom, religious 
 and civil. That such men would write much and 
 vigorously was a matter of course. It was part of 
 their duty to give an account of themselves before 
 man as well as God, and so their habits, their 
 thoughts, are better known to us than those of any 
 colonists anywhere. All the communities from Maine 
 to Connecticut had common characteristics. The 
 plain people were pious, hardy, thrifty. The Brah- 
 min caste, their spiritual masters, were very learned, 
 their magistrates God-fearing, an d all were bound 
 tog ether by religious sympathies, solidified _ aj__j 
 s trengthen ed by external pressure In self-justifica- 
 "tion, in seTF-defence, as witness to God and man, 
 the clergy, and the magistrates too, plied their pens, 
 and as early as 1639 had provided themselves with 
 a printing press. They cared l ittle for po etry__or 
 art^ The contxoversy_aL_God wj_th_Ne.w England, 
 or of New England with everybody ._el.se* was what 
 interested them, whether they were telling their story 
 or preaching their sermon, expounding their creed 
 or illustrating it by their example. 
 
 First of the annalists is the dignified, sober, and 
 benign William Bradford of Plymouth, with his 
 co-partner in the Relation , .Edward Winslow, both 
 capable of a more humane humor than Francis Higgin- 
 son of Salem, a beautifully pious soul, naively crcdu 
 lous. Rather credulous, too, is William Wood, though 
 he was an acute observer, with a faculty of appro- 
 priate epithet that marks the progress of prose writ 
 
INTRODUCTION. XV 
 
 ing. Wood is not included in these pages, but room 
 is found for John Underhill, who is worthy of note 
 for his singular faculty of discerning special provi- 
 dences. He yields in this, however, to John Mason, 
 who would perhaps have been surprised to be told 
 that his miracle of the intoxicating bottle had been 
 anticipated by six centuries in the legend of the 
 Irish saint Ludigus. More sober and statesmanlike 
 is the writing of John Winthrop, though he too does 
 not escape superstition ; while of wholly different 
 yet not unattractive type is the rough, uncouth par- 
 tisan Edward Johnson ; and in curious contrast to 
 them both is the Mephistophelian Thomas Morton. 
 These were laymen. After the middle of the cen- 
 tury the clergy, save for John Josselyn, the judicious 
 Daniel Gookin, and a few others, take the lead both 
 as annalists and as burdeners of the press with their ser- 
 mons and treatises. Meantime in the Middle Colonies 
 a few chroniclers had arisen, of whom Daniel Denton 
 is here representative. One cannot take leave of 
 these historical writers as a whole without paying 
 tribute, not alone to their piety and learnin g, where 
 they claimed it, but to their xourageous optimism, 
 their generaj_intel]ectual sanity, their essential manli- 
 ness. Annalists like these were no bad founders of a 
 national literature. 
 
 But when we think of the writing of this period, 
 what rises in the popular mind, and justly, is its 
 _theology\ Not indeed in the Middle Colonies or in the 
 South, though there were a few noteworthy divines 
 even there, but in New England where a practical 
 theocracy was to be seen in full flower. Easy-going 
 planters might put up with clergymen of no intel- 
 
XVI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 lectual attainments, even with those whose morals did 
 something smack, but to a theocracy an intelligent 
 priesthood is essential, and there were special reasons 
 in New England that fostered literature in fostering 
 autocracy. An Englishman does not readily submit 
 to superiors, and to assert their dominance the New 
 England clergy must needs be great counsellors, secu- 
 lar and religious, great scholars, preachers, and great 
 private characters. These sturdy Puritans were ultra 
 Protestants, prone to follow the workings of their 
 own minds. To dominate them the clergy had to 
 be acute logicians and powerful reasoners. Narrow 
 they might be ; but of power, of sheer indomitable 
 force, no body of citizens and no caste have ever 
 been such complete exemplars as the New England 
 Puritans, unless perhaps the Arabs under Mahomet, 
 or the Frenchmen of the early Revolution. Both their 
 isolation and their previous history contributed to the 
 intensity of their convictions. Among these exiles 
 for truth the pastors appear to us as heroes of spirit- 
 ual combat, praying and preaching for hours together, 
 rebuking the froward, counselling magistrates with 
 authority in their election sermons, moulding youth, as 
 appears in their New England Primer, wrestling with 
 heretics, witches, Satan, and God. These priests 
 appear to us as prophets, as uncrowned kings of the 
 faithful. In their isolation they felt themselves set 
 upon a hill, under obligation to give account for them- 
 selves to their English brethren, forced, too, to use 
 every means to maintain their power ; hence, as 
 we have seen, their speedy importation of the print- 
 ing press, which groaned as an instrument of God's 
 glory with learned sermons, theological and historical 
 
INTRODUCTION. xvil 
 
 treatises. In those days church, pastor, and sermon 
 took the place of our theatres, newspapers, lectures, 
 novels, and stump-speaking. The meeting-house was 
 the centre of town life, the minister the centre of the 
 church. He was usually a college-bred man, almost 
 always a voluminous writer, and, though no one of 
 them in our period survives outside the anthological 
 limbo, it is surprising to find how many, even of the 
 more obscure, showed imaginative force, ponderous 
 learning, and literary power of no mean order. 
 Measured by literary standards the greatest of them 
 was that stone rejected of the builders, Roger Will- 
 iams ; but our extracts will show that John Cotton, 
 Thomas Hooker, Thomas Shepard, and John Eliot 
 were also able writers of their kind, while surely the 
 most unique scold in our literature is the "Simple 
 Cobbler," Nathaniel Ward. Yet for all their zeal 
 and power they were fighting a losing fight against 
 nature. The spirit rebelled as well as the flesh. 
 The end of the century is filled with lamentations, 
 which already in our period begin to make themselves 
 audible, of a change in the old order. Their vault- 
 ing spiritual ambition had defeated itself. But the 
 crisis of that period belongs to a second period, whose 
 early writers, together with several of those here 
 named, to whom the division of our materials makes 
 it expedient to recur, finds place in the second 
 volume. 
 
CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 Captain John Smith was born at Willoughby in 
 Lincolnshire, in January, 1579. He died at London 
 on the 2 1 st of June, 1632. Yet that part of his life 
 to which he owes distinction was passed in America, 
 and it is his account of it that gives him his place 
 here. The son of a tenant farmer, apprenticed to 
 trade at fifteen, he ran away to serve under Lord 
 Willoughby in the Netherlands and afterward in 
 Hungary and Transylvania, against the Turks. He 
 was captured, enslaved, escaped to Russia, returned 
 to England in 1605, and the next year accom- 
 panied Newport's expedition to Virginia, apparently 
 not without conflict with the authorities. Their op- 
 position was overcome by his energy in exploration 
 and his success in obtaining supplies. While explor- 
 ing the James River in 1607, he was captured 
 by Indians, brought before their chief, Powhatan, 
 saved as he claimed from death by the intervention 
 of that " Numpareil of Virginia," Pocahontas, and 
 sent back to Jamestown after six weeks' captivity. 
 Later he explored the Chesapeake, was for a time 
 Colonial President, returned to England in 1609, 
 and in 1614 explored the coast of New England 
 from Penobscot to Cape Cod. A third expedi- 
 tion in 1 6 1 6 resulted in his capture by the French. 
 He escaped, but was unable to secure means to prose- 
 cute his adventurous explorations. Typical of his 
 
2 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 many writings is the first, A True Relation (1608), 
 — of little art but abounding life ; clumsy, formless, 
 inartistic, yet interesting. He wrote also A Map of 
 Virginia (161 2), A Description of New England 
 (161 6), New England's Trials (1620), The Gen- 
 eral History of Virginia, New England and the 
 Summer Isles (1624), and a few less significant 
 works. Modern scholars have been inclined to 
 distrust him as an authority, especially when he 
 describes his own exploits and adventures, but there 
 is reason to believe that this scepticism has been 
 pushed too far. The best edition of his works is 
 that of Edward Arber (1884). 
 
 POWHATAN'S TREATMENT OF SMITH. 
 
 [From "A True Relation of Such Occurrences 
 and Accidents of Note as hath happened in 
 Virginia etc." London, 1608.] 
 
 Arriving at Weramocomoco their Emperor 
 proudly lying upon a bedstead a foot high, upon ten 
 or twelve mats richly hung with many chains of 
 great pearls about his neck, and covered with a great 
 covering of Rahaughcums. At his head sat a 
 woman, at his feet another ; on each side sitting 
 upon a mat upon the ground, were ranged his chief 
 men on each side the fire, ten in a rank and behind 
 them as many young women, each a great chain 
 of white beads over their shoulders, their heads 
 painted in red ; and with such a grave and majes- 
 
POWHATAN'S TREATMENT. 3 
 
 deal countenance, as drave me into admiration to see 
 such state in a naked salvage. 
 
 He kindly welcomed me with good words, and 
 great platters of sundry victuals, assuring me his 
 friendship, and my liberty within four days. He 
 much delighted in Opechan Comough's relation of 
 what I had described to him, and oft examined me 
 upon the same. 
 
 He asked me the cause of our coming. 
 
 I told him being in fight with the Spaniards, our 
 enemy, being overpowered, near put to retreat, and 
 by extreme weather put to this shore, where landing 
 at Chesipiack, the people shot us, but at Kequough- 
 tan they kindly used us ; we by signs demanded 
 fresh water, they described us up the river was all 
 fresh water : at Paspahegh also they kindly used us : 
 our pinnace being leaky, we were enforced to stay to 
 mend her, till Captain Newport, my father, came 
 to conduct us away. 
 
 He demanded why we went further with our 
 boat. I told him, in that I would have occasion to 
 talk of the back sea, that on the other side the main 
 where was salt water. My father had a child slain 
 which we supposed Monocan, his enemy [had done] ; 
 whose death we intended to revenge. 
 
 After good deliberation, he began to describe me 
 the countries beyond the falls, with many of the rest ; 
 confirming what not only Opechancanoyes, and an 
 Indian which had been prisoner to Pewhatan had 
 before told me : but some one called it five days, 
 some six, some eight, where the said water dashed 
 amongst many stones and rocks, each storm ; which 
 caused oft times the head of the river to be brackish. 
 
4 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 Anchanachuck he described to be the people that 
 had slain my brother : whose death he would re- 
 venge. He described also upon the same sea, a 
 mighty nation called Pocoughtronack, a fierce nation 
 that did eat men, and warred with the people of 
 Moyaoncer and Pataromerke, nations upon the top 
 of the head of the Bay, under his territories : where 
 the year before they had slain an hundred. He 
 signified their crowns were shaven, long hair in the 
 neck, tied on a knot, swords like pollaxes. 
 
 Beyond them, he described people with short 
 coats, and sleeves to the elbows, that passed that 
 way in ships like ours. Many kingdoms he de- 
 scribed me, to the head of the bay, which seemed to 
 be a mighty river issuing from mighty mountains be- 
 twixt the two seas : The people clothed at Ocama- 
 howan, he also confirmed. And the southerly 
 countries also, as the rest that reported us to be within 
 a day and a half of Mangoge, two days of Chawwo- 
 nock, six from Roonock, to the south part of the 
 back sea. He described a country called Anone, 
 where they have abundance of brass, and houses 
 walled as ours. 
 
 I requited his discourse (seeing what pride he 
 had in his great and spacious dominions, seeing that 
 all he knew were under his territories) in describing 
 to him the territories of Europe, which was subject 
 to our great king whose subject I was, the innumer- 
 able multitude of his ships, I gave him to understand 
 the noise of trumpets, and terrible manner of fighting 
 [which] were under Captain Newport my father : 
 whom I intituled the Meworames, which they call 
 the king of all the waters. At his greatness he 
 
COLONIAL MANAGEMENT. 5 
 
 admired : and not a little feared. He desired me to 
 forsake Paspahegh, and to live with him upon his 
 river, a country called Capa Howasicke. He prom- 
 ised to give me corn, venison, or what I wanted to 
 feed us : Hatchets and copper we should make him, 
 and none should disturb us. 
 
 REQUISITES OF COLONIAL MANAGE- 
 MENT. 
 
 [From "A Description of New England," etc. 
 London, 161 6.] 
 
 But it is not a work for every one, to manage 
 such an affair as makes a discovery, and plants a col- 
 ony. It requires all the best parts of art, judgment, 
 courage, honesty, constancy, diligence, and industry, 
 to do but near well. Some are, more proper for 
 one thing than another ; and therein are to be em- 
 ployed : and nothing breeds more confusion than 
 misplacing and misemploying men in their undertak- 
 ings. Columbus, Cortez, Pitzara, Soto, Magellanes, 
 and the rest served more than aprenticeship to 
 learn how to begin their most memorable attempts in 
 the West Indies : which to the wonder of all ages 
 successfully they effected, when many hundreds of 
 others, far above them in the world's opinion, being 
 instructed but by relation, came to shame and con- 
 fusion in actions of small moment, who doubtless in 
 other matters, were both wise, discreet, generous, 
 and courageous. I say not this to detract anything 
 from their imcomparable merits, — but to answer those 
 
6 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 questionless questions that keep us back from imitat- 
 ing the worthiness of their brave spirits that advanced 
 themselves from poor soldiers, to great captains, 
 their posterity to great lords, their king to be one of 
 the greatest potentates on earth, and the fruits of 
 their labors, his greatest glory, power, and renown. 
 
 GLORIOUS PAINS vs. INGLORIOUS EASE. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 Who can desire more content, that hath small 
 means; or but only his merit to advance his fortune, 
 than to tread, and plant that ground he hath pur- 
 chased by the hazard of his life ? If he have but the 
 taste of virtue, and magnanimity, what to such a 
 mind can be more pleasant, than planting and build- 
 ing a foundation for his posterity, got from the 
 rude earth, by God's blessing and his own industry, 
 without prejudice to any ? If he have any grain of 
 faith or zeal in Religion, what can he do less hurt- 
 full to any ; or more agreeable to God, than to seek 
 to convert those poor savages to know Christ, and 
 humanity, whose labors with discretion will triple 
 requite thy charge and pains ? What so truly suits 
 with honor and honesty, as the discovering things 
 unknown ? erecting towns, peopling countries, 
 informing the ignorant, reforming things unjust, 
 teaching virtue ; and gain to our native mother- 
 country a kingdom to attend her ; find employ- 
 ment for those that are idle, because they know not 
 what to do : so far from wronging any, as to 
 
GLORIOUS PAINS. 7 
 
 cause posterity to remember thee ; and remembring 
 thee, ever honor that remembrance with praise ? 
 Consider : What were the beginnings and endings of 
 the Monarchies of the Chaldeans, the Syrians, the 
 Grecians, and Romans, but this one rule ; What 
 was it they would not do, for the good of the com- 
 monwealth, or their Mother-city ? For example : 
 Rome, What made her such a Monarchess, but 
 only the adventures of her youth, not in riots at 
 home ; but in dangers abroad ? and the justice and 
 judgment out of their experience, when they grew 
 aged. What was their ruin and hurt, but this ; 
 The excess of idleness, the fondness of parents, the 
 want of experience in magistrates, the admiration of 
 their undeserved honors, the contempt of true merit, 
 their unjust jealosies, their politic incredulities, their 
 hypocritical seeming goodness, and their deeds of 
 secret lewdness ? finally, in fine, growing only for- 
 mal temporists, all that their predecessors got in 
 many years, they lost in few days. Those by their 
 pains and virtues became lords of the world ; 
 they by their ease and vices became slaves to their 
 servants. This is the difference betwixt the use of 
 arms in the field, and on the monuments of stones ; 
 the golden age and the leaden age, prosperity and 
 misery, justice and corruption, substance and shad- 
 ows, words and deeds, experience and imagina- 
 tion, making commonwealths and marring common- 
 wealths, the fruits of virtue and the conclusions of 
 vice. 
 
 Then, who would live at home idly (or think 
 in himself any worth to live) only to eat, drink, 
 Hnd sleep, and so die ? Or by consuming that 
 
8 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 carelessly, his friends got worthily ? Or by using 
 that miserably, that maintained virtue honestly ? Or, 
 for being descended nobly, pine with the vain vaunt 
 of great kindred, in penury ? Or (to maintain a 
 silly show of bravery) toil out thy heart, soul, and 
 time, basely, by shifts, tricks, cards, and dice ? Or 
 by relating news of others actions, shark here or 
 there for a dinner, or supper; deceive thy friends, 
 by fair promises, and dissimulation, in borrowing 
 where thou never intendest to pay ; offend the 
 laws, surfeit with excess, burden thy country, abuse 
 thyself, despair in want, and then cozen thy kin- 
 dred, yea even thine own brother, and wish thy 
 parents' death (I will not say damnation) to have 
 their estates ? though thou seest what honors, and 
 rewards, the world yet hath for them will seek them 
 and worthily deserve them. 
 
 I would be sorry to offend, or that any should 
 mistake my honest meaning : for I wish good to all, 
 hurt to none. But rich men for the most part are 
 grown to that dotage, through their pride in their 
 wealth, as though there were no accident could end 
 it, or their life. 
 
 And what hellish care do such take to make it 
 their own misery, and their country's spoil, espe- 
 cially when there is most need of their employment? 
 drawing by all manner of inventions, from the Prince 
 and his honest subjects, even the vital spirits of their 
 powers and estates : as if their bags, or brags, were 
 so powerful a defence, the malicious could not assault 
 them : when they are the only bait, to cause us not 
 to be only assaulted ; but betrayed and murdered in 
 our own security, ere we well perceive it. 
 
COLONIAL OPPORTUNITIES. 9 
 
 COLONIAL OPPORTUNITIES. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 And lest any should think the toil might be insup- 
 portable, though these things may be had by labor 
 and diligence, I assure my self there are who 
 delight extremely in vain pleasure, that take much 
 more pains in England, to enjoy it, than I should 
 do here to gain wealth sufficient : and yet I think 
 they should not have half such sweet content : for, 
 our pleasure here is still gains ; in England charges 
 and loss. Here nature and liberty affords us that 
 freely, which in England we want, or it costeth us 
 dearly. What pleasure can be more, than (being 
 tired with any occasion a-shore in planting vines, 
 fruits, or herbs, in contriving their own grounds, to 
 the pleasure of their own minds, their fields, gar- 
 dens, orchards, buildings, ships, and other works, 
 &c. ) to recreate themselves before their own doors, 
 in their own boats upon the sea, where man, woman 
 and child, with a small hook and line, by angling, 
 may take diverse sorts of excellent fish, at their pleas- 
 ures ? And is it not pretty sport, to pull up two 
 pence, six pence, and twelve pence, as fast as you 
 can hale and vear a line ? He is a very bad fisher, 
 cannot kill in one day with his hook and line, one, 
 two, or three hundred cods : which dressed and 
 dried, if they be sold there for ten shillings the 
 hundred, though in England they will give more 
 than twenty ; may not both the servant, the master, 
 and merchant, be well content with this gain ? If 
 
10 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 a man work bat three days in seven, he may get 
 more then he can spend, unless he be excessive. 
 Now that carpenter, mason, gardiner, tailor, smith, 
 sailer, forgers, or what other, may they not; make 
 this a pretty recreation though they fish but an hour 
 in a day, to take more than they eat in a week : 
 or ? if they will not eat it, because there is so much 
 better choice ; yet sell it, or change it, with the fish- 
 ermen, or merchants, for any thing they want. And 
 what sport doth yield a more pleasing content, 
 and less hurt or charge than angling with a hook, 
 and crossing the sweet air from isle to isle, over the 
 silent streams of a calm sea ? Wherein the most 
 curious may find pleasure, profit, and content. 
 
 Thus, though all men be not fishers : yet all men 
 whatsoever, may in other matters do as well. For 
 necessity doth in these cases so rule a commonwealth, 
 and each in their several functions, as their labors in 
 their qualities may be as profitable, because there is 
 a necessary mutual use of all. 
 
 For gentlemen, what exercise should more delight 
 them, than ranging daily those unknown parts, using 
 fowling and fishing, for hunting and hawking ? and 
 yet you shall see the wild hawks give you some 
 pleasure, in seeing them stoop (six or seven after one 
 another) an hour or two together at the schools offish 
 in the fair harbors, as those ashore at a fowl : and 
 never trouble nor torment yourselves, with watching, 
 mewing, feeding, and attending them : nor kill horse 
 and man with running and crying. See you not a 
 hawk ? For hunting also : the woods, lakes, and 
 rivers afFord not only chase sufficient, for any that 
 delights in that kind of toil, or pleasure : but such 
 
COLONIAL OPPORTUNITIES. II 
 
 beasts to hunt, that besides the delicacy of their 
 bodies for food, their skins are so rich, as may well 
 recompense thy daily labor, with a captain's pay. 
 
 For laborers, if those that sow hemp, rape, turnips, 
 parsnips, carrots, cabbage, and such like : give 20, 
 30, 40, 50, .shillings yearly for an acre of ground, 
 and meat, drink, and wages to use it, and yet 
 grow rich : when better or at least as good ground, 
 may be had, and cost nothing but labor : it seems 
 strange to me, any such should there grow poor. 
 
 My purpose is not to persuade children from their 
 parents : men from their wives : nor servants from 
 their masters : only, such as with free consent may 
 be spared : but that each parish, or village, in city or 
 country, that will but apparel their fatherless children 
 of thirteen or fourteen years of age, or young mar- 
 ried people, that have small wealth to live on : here 
 by their labor may live exceeding well : provided 
 always that first there be a sufficient power to com- 
 mand them, houses to receive them, means to defend 
 them, and meet provisions for them : for any place 
 may be overlain : and it is most necessary to have a 
 fortress (ere this grow to practice) and sufficient 
 masters (as, carpenters, masons, fishers, fowlers, 
 gardeners, husbandmen, sawers, smiths, spinsters, 
 tailors, weavers, and such like) to take ten, twelve, 
 or twenty, or as there is occasion, for apprentice,. 
 The masters by this may quickly grow rich : these 
 may learn their -trades themselves, to do the like: 
 to a general and an incredible benefit for king, and 
 country, masters, and servant. 
 
12 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 THE POCAHONTAS INCIDENT — THE 
 LATER VERSION OF POWHATAN'S 
 TREATMENT OF SMITH. 
 
 [From the «' General History of Virginia," etc. 
 (1624), Lib. III.] 
 
 Opjtchapam the King's brother invited him to his 
 house, where, with as many platters of bread, fowl, 
 and wild beasts, as did environ him, he bid him 
 welcome ; but not any of them would eat a bit with 
 him, but put up all the remainder in baskets. 
 
 At his returne to Opechancanough's all the King's 
 women and their children, flocked about him for 
 their parts, as a due by custom, to be merry with 
 such fragments. 
 
 But his waking mind in hideous dreams did oft see wondrous 
 
 shapes 
 Of bodies strange and huge in growth, and of stupendous makes 
 
 At last they brought him to Werowocomoco, 
 where was Powhatan their Emperor. Here more 
 then two hundred of those grim courtiers stood won- 
 dering at him, as he had been a monster ; till Pow- 
 hatan and his train had put themselves in their greatest 
 braveries. Before a fire upon a seat like a bedstead, 
 he sat covered with a great robe, made of raccoon 
 skins, and all the tails hanging by. On either hand 
 did sit a young wench of 16 or 18 years, and 
 along on each side the house, two rows of men, 
 and behind them as many women, with all their heads 
 and shoulders painted red; many of their heads be 
 
POCAHONTAS. 1 3 
 
 decked with the white down of birds ; but every 
 one with something : and a great chain of white 
 beads about their necks. 
 
 At his entrance before the King, all the people 
 gave a great shout. The Queen of Appamatuck 
 was appointed to bring him water to wash his hands, 
 and another brought him a bunch of feathers, instead 
 of a towel to dry them. Having feasted him after 
 their best barbarous manner they could, a long con- 
 sultation was held, but' the conclusion was, two great 
 stones were brought before Powhatan : then as many 
 as could laid hands on him, dragged him to them, 
 and thereon laid his head, and being ready with their 
 clubs, to beat out his brains, Pocahontas the King's 
 dearest daughter, when no entreaty could prevail, 
 got his head in her arms, and laid her own upon 
 his to save his from death : whereat the Emperor 
 was contented he should live to make him hatchets, 
 and her bells, beads, and copper ; for they thought 
 him as well of all occupations as themselves. For 
 the King himself will make his own robes, shoes, 
 bows, arrows, pots ; plant, hunt, or do any thing so. 
 well as the rest. 
 
 They say he bore a pleasant show, 
 But sure his heart was sad. 
 For who can pleasant be, and rest, 
 That lives in fear and dread : 
 And having life suspected, doth 
 It still suspected lead. 
 
 Two days after, Powhatan having disguised him- 
 self in the most fearfulest manner he could, caused 
 Captain Smith to be brought forth to a great house 
 in the woods, and there upon a mat by the fire to be 
 
14 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 left alone. Not long after- from behind a mat that 
 divided the house, was made the most dolefulest noise 
 he ever heard : then Powhatan more like a devil than 
 a man, with some two hundred more as black as 
 himself, came unto him and told him now they were 
 friends, and presently he should go to Jamestown, to 
 send him two great guns, and a grindstone, for which 
 he would give him the County of Capahowosick, 
 and for ever esteem him as his son Nantaquoud. 
 
 So to Jamestown with 1 2 guides Powhatan sent 
 him. That night they quartered in the woods, he 
 still expecting (as he had done all this long time of 
 his imprisonment) every hour to be put to one death 
 or other for all their feasting. But almighty God 
 by his divin£ providence, had mollified the hearts of 
 those stern barbarians with compassion. The next 
 morning betimes they came to the fort, where Smith 
 having used the savages with what kindness he could, 
 he showed Rawhunt, Powhatan's trusty servant, two 
 demi-culverins and a millstone to carry Powhatan : 
 they found them somewhat too heavy ; but when 
 they did see him discharge them, being loaded with 
 stones, among the boughs of a great tree loaded with 
 icicles, the ice and branches came so tumbling down, 
 that the poor savages ran away half dead with fear. 
 But at last we regained some confidence with them, 
 and gave them such toys : and sent to Powhatan 
 his women, and children such presents, as gave them 
 in general full content. 
 
CAPTURE OF POCAHONTAS. 1 5 
 
 THE CAPTURE OF POCAHONTAS. 
 [From the Same, Lib. IV.] 
 
 But to conclude our peace, thus it happened. 
 Captain Argall having entered into a great acquaint- 
 ance with Japazaws, an old friend of Captain Smith's, 
 and so to all our nation, ever since he discovered 
 the Country : hard by him there was Pocahontas, 
 whom Captain Smith's Relations intituleth the 
 Numparell of Virginia, and though she had been 
 many times a preserver of him and the whole colony, 
 yet till this accident she was never seen at James- 
 town since his departure. 
 
 Being at Patawomeke, as it seems, thinking her 
 self unknown, was easily by her friend Japazaws 
 persuaded to go abroad with him and his wife to 
 see the ship, for Captaine Argall had promised him 
 a copper kettle to bring her but to him, promising 
 no way to hurt her, but keep her till they could 
 conclude a peace with her father. The savage for 
 this copper kettle would have done any thing, it 
 seemed by the Relation. 
 
 For though she had seen and been in many ships, 
 yet he caused his wife to fain how desirous she was 
 to see one, and that he offered to beat her for her 
 importunity, till she wept. But at last he told her, 
 if Pocahontas would go with her, he was content : 
 and thus they betrayed the poor innocent Pocahontas 
 aboard, where they were all kindly feasted in the 
 cabin. Japazaws treading oft on the Captain's foot, 
 *• remember he had done his part, the Captain 
 
1 6 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 when he saw his time, persuaded Pocahontas to the 
 gun-room, faining to have some conference with 
 Japazaws, which was only that she should not per- 
 ceive he was any way guilty of her captivity : so 
 sending for her again, he told her before her friends, 
 she must go with him, and compound peace betwixt 
 her country and us, before she ever should see Pow- 
 hatan, whereat the old Jew and his wife began to 
 howl and cry as fast as Pocahontas, that upon the 
 Captain's fair persuasions, by degrees pacifying her 
 self, and Japazaws and his wife, with the kettle 
 and other toys, went merrily on shore, and she to 
 Jamestown. 
 
 A messenger forthwith was sent to her father, that 
 his daughter Pocahontas he loved so dearly, he must 
 ransom with our men, swords, pieces, tools, &c, 
 he treacherously had stolen. 
 
 This unwelcome news much troubled Powhatan, 
 because he loved both his daughter and our com- 
 modities well, yet it was three months after ere he 
 returned us any answer : then by the persuasion of 
 the Council, he returned seven of our men, with 
 each of them an unserviceable musket, and sent us 
 word, that when we would deliver his daughter, 
 he would make us satisfaction for all injuries done 
 us, and give us five hundred bushels of corn, and 
 forever be friends with us. 
 
 That he sent, we received in part of payment, 
 and returned him this answer : — That his daughter 
 should be well used, but we could not believe the 
 rest of our arms were either lost or stolen from 
 him, and therefore till he sent them, we would keep 
 his daughter. 
 
CAPTURE OF POCAHONTAS. 1 7 
 
 This answer, it seemed, much displeased him, for 
 we heard no more from him a long time after, when 
 with Captain ArgalPs ship and some other vessels 
 belonging to the Colony, Sir Thomas Dale, with a 
 hundred and fifty men well appointed, went up into 
 his own River, to his chief habitation, with his 
 daughter. 
 
 With many scornful bravados they affronted us, 
 proudly demanding why we came thither ; our reply 
 was, we had brought his daughter, and to receive the 
 ransom for her that was promised, or to have it perforce. 
 
 They nothing dismayed thereat, told us, We were 
 welcome if we came to fight, for they were provided 
 for us, but advised us, if we loved our lives to 
 retire ; else they would use us as they had done Cap- 
 tain RatclifFe. We told them, we would pres- 
 ently have a better answer ; but we were no sooner 
 within shot of the shore than they let fly their 
 Arrows among us in the ship. 
 
 Being thus justly provoked, we presently manned 
 our boats, went on shore, burned all their houses, 
 and spoiled all they had we could find ; and so the 
 next day proceeded higher up the river, where they 
 demanded why we burnt their houses, and we, 
 why they shot at us : They replied it was some 
 straggling savage, with many other excuses ; they 
 intended no hurt, but were our friends. We told 
 them, we came not to hurt them, but visit them as 
 friends also. 
 
 Upon this we concluded a peace, and forthwith 
 they dispatched messengers to Powhatan, whose 
 answer, they told us, wee must expect four and 
 twenty hours ere the messengers could return : . . . 
 
1 8 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 Then they told us, our men were run away for 
 fear we would hang them, yet Powhatan's men were 
 run after them : as for our swords and pieces, they 
 should be brought us the next day, which was only 
 but to delay time : for the next day they came 
 not. 
 
 Then we went higher, to a house of Powhatan's, 
 called Machot, where we saw about four hundred 
 men well appointed : here they dared us to come on 
 shore which we did : no show of fear they made at 
 all, nor offered to resist our landing, but walking 
 boldly up and down amongst us, demanded to con- 
 fer with our captain, of his coming in that manner, 
 and to have truce till they could but once more send 
 to their king to know his pleasure, which if it were 
 not agreeable to their expectations, then they would 
 fight with us, and defend their own as they could. 
 Which was but only to defer the time, to carry 
 away their provisions : yet we promised them truce 
 till the next day at noon, and then if they would 
 fight with us, they should know when we would 
 begin by our drums and trumpets. 
 
 Upon this promise two of Powhatan's sons came 
 unto us to see their sister, at whose sight, seeing her 
 well, though they heard to the contrary, they much 
 rejoiced, promising they would persuade her father 
 to redeem her, and forever be friends with us. 
 And upon this the two brethren went aboard with 
 us, and we sent Master John Rolfe and Master 
 Sparkes to Powhatan, to acquaint him with the 
 business; kindly they were entertained, but not 
 admitted the presence of Powhatan, but they spoke 
 with Opechancanough, his brother and successor ; 
 
FATE OF POCAHONTAS. 19 
 
 he promised to do the best he could to Powhatan, 
 all might be well. 
 
 So it being April and time to prepare our ground 
 and set our corn, we returned to Jamestown, promis- 
 ing the forbearance of their performing their promise, 
 till the next harvest. 
 
 Long before this, Master John Rolfe, an honest 
 gentleman, and of good behaviour, had been in 
 love with Pocahontas, and she with him, which 
 thing at that instant I made known to Sir Thomas 
 Dale by a letter from him, wherein he entreated his 
 advice, and she acquainted her brother with it, 
 which resolution Sir Thomas Dale well approved. 
 The bruit of this manage came soon to the knowl- 
 edge of Powhatan, a thing acceptable to him, as 
 appeared by his sudden consent, for within ten days 
 he sent Opachisco, an old uncle of hers, and two 
 of his sons, to see the manner of the manage, and 
 to do in that behalf what they requested, for the 
 confirmation thereof, as his deputy : which was ac- 
 cordingly done about the first of April. And ever 
 since we have had friendly trade and commerce, as 
 well with Powhatan himself, as all his subjects. 
 
 THE FATE OF POCAHONTAS. 
 
 [From the Same, Lib. IV.] 
 
 During this time the Lady Rebecca, alias Poca- 
 hontas, daughter to Powhatan, by the diligent care 
 of Master John Rolfe her husband and his friends, was 
 
20 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 taught to speak such English as might well be un- 
 derstood, well instructed in Christianity, and was 
 become very formal and civil after our English man- 
 ner ; she had also by him a child which she loved 
 most dearly and the Treasurer and Company took 
 order both for the maintenance of her and it, besides 
 there were divers persons of great rank and quality 
 had been very kind to her ; and before she arrived 
 at London, Captain Smith to deserve her former 
 courtesies, made her qualities known to the Queen's 
 most excellent Majesty and her Court, and writ a 
 little book to this effect to the Queen. . . . 
 
 Being about this time preparing to set sail for New 
 England, I could not stay to do her that service I 
 desired, and she well deserved ; but hearing she was 
 at Bradford with divers of my friends, I went to see 
 her, after a modest salutation, without any word, 
 she turned about, obscured her face, as not seeming 
 well content ; and in that humor her husband, with 
 diverse others, we all left her two or three hours, re- 
 penting myself to have writ she could speak English, 
 but not long after she began to talk and remembered 
 me well what courtesies she had done: saying, 
 
 You did promise Powhatan what was yours should 
 be his, and he the like to you : you called him father 
 being in this land a stranger, and by the same reason 
 so must I do you ; which though I would have ex- 
 cused, I durst not allow of that title, because she was 
 a king's daughter with a well set countenance she 
 said, 
 
 Were you not afraid to come into my father' s coun- 
 try, and caused fear in him and all his people (but 
 me) and fear you here I should call you father : I 
 
FATE OF POCAHONTAS. 21 
 
 tell you then I will, and you shall call me child, and 
 so I will be for ever and ever your countryman. 
 They did tell us always you were dead, and I knew 
 no other till I came to Plymouth : yet Powhatan did 
 command Uttamatomakkin to seek you, and know the 
 truth, because your countrymen will lie much. 
 
 This savage, one of Powhatan's council, being 
 amongst them held an understanding fellow ; the king 
 purposely sent him, as they say, to number the peo- 
 ple here, and inform him well what we were and our 
 state. Arriving at Plymouth, according to his direc- 
 tions, he got a long stick, whereon by notches he did 
 think to have kept the number of all the men he 
 could see, but he was quickly weary of that task. 
 
 Coming to London, where by chance I met him, 
 having renewed our acquaintance, where many were 
 desirous to hear and see his behavior, he told me 
 
 Powhatan did bid him to find me out, to show him 
 our God, the King, Queen, and Prince, I so much 
 had told them of. 
 
 Concerning God, I told him the best I could, the 
 King I heard he had seen, and the rest he should see 
 when he would : he denied ever to have seen the 
 King, till by circumstances he was satisfied he had : 
 then he replied very sadly, 
 
 You gave Powhatan a white dog, which Powhatan 
 fed as himself: but your King gave me nothing, and 
 I am better than your white dog. 
 
 The small time I stayed in London, divers courtiers 
 and others, my acquaintances, hath gone with me to 
 see her, that generally concluded, they did think God 
 had a great hand in her conversion, and they have 
 seen many English ladies worse favored, proportioned, 
 
22 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 and behaviored ; and as since I have heard, it pleased 
 both the King and Queen's majesty honorably to 
 esteem her, accompanied with that honorable lady 
 the Lady De la Ware, and that honorable lord her 
 husband, and divers other persons of good qualities, 
 both publicly at the masks and otherwise, to her great 
 satisfaction and content, which doubtless she would 
 have deserved, had she lived to arrive in Virginia. 
 
COLONEL NORWOOD. 
 
 Of the author of " A Voyage to Virginia " very 
 little is known save that, as his narrative tells us, he 
 was a kinsman to that picturesque Governor of Colo- 
 nial Virginia, Sir William Berkeley. His voyage 
 was made in 1649, and the adventures that he de- 
 scribes were doubtless common to many of his fellow 
 gentlemen adventurers. The work is peculiarly inter- 
 esting to us for its style. The narratives of his pred- 
 ecessors had their intrinsic interest, but they told 
 their stories in cumbrous phraseology. Here the 
 narrative is relatively straightforward and clear, though 
 it is evident that Cowley and Dryden had still their 
 task before them to make English prose a worthy 
 means of artistic literary expression. The Colonel 
 has considerable power of conveying the thrill of 
 adventure. There is a pathos, too, in his story of 
 the kindness that he met with from the poor Indian 
 fisherman, and perhaps there is a touch of humor in 
 that story (not given here) of the Portuguese lady 
 who blushed with happiness at the rough ship's com- 
 pany's praise of her little son, whose features, full of 
 sweetness, reminded them, they said, of their exiled 
 king, Charles II. For a few other facts about Henry 
 Norwood see Neill's Virginia Carolorum. 
 
 23 
 
24 COLONEL NORWOOD. 
 
 INDIAN HOSPITALITY. 
 
 [From "A Voyage to Virginia." — Printed 
 in Force's Tracts. Vol. III.] 
 
 Our kind entertainment in the house of this poor 
 fisherman, had so many circumstances of hearty 
 compassion and tenderness in every part of it, that 
 as it ought to be a perpetual motive to engage 
 all of us who enjoyed the benefit of it, to a daily 
 acknowledgement of the Almighty's goodness for 
 conducting us in this manner by his immediate hand, 
 out of our afflictions, so may it ever be looked upon 
 as a just reproach to Christians, who, on all our 
 sea-coasts, are so far from affording succour to those 
 who, by shipwreck and misfortunes of the sea, do 
 fall into their power, that they treat with all inhuman 
 savage barbarity, those unhappy souls whom God 
 hath thus afflicted, seizing on their goods as their 
 proper perquisites, which the waves of the sea (by 
 divine providence) would cast upon the shore for the 
 true proprietors ; and many times dispatching them 
 out of the world to silence complaints, and to prevent 
 all after-reckonings. And the better to intitle them- 
 selves to what they get in this way of rapine, they 
 wickedly call such devilish acquests by the sacred 
 name of God's good, prophaning and blaspheming 
 at the same time that holy name, as they violate all 
 the laws of hospitality and human society. Whereas, 
 on the contrary, our charitable host, influenced only 
 by natural law, without the least shew of coveting 
 any thing we had, or prospect of requital in the 
 
INDIAN HOSPITALITY. 25 
 
 future, did not only treat in this manner our persons, 
 but did also, with as much honesty, secure for us 
 our small stores of guns, powder, &c, as if he had 
 read and understood the duty of the gospel, or had 
 given his only child as a hostage to secure his dealing 
 justly with us ; so that I can never sufficiently 
 applaud the humanity of this Indian, nor express the 
 high contentment that I enjoyed in this poor man's 
 cottage, which was made of nothing but mat and 
 reeds, and bark of trees fixed to poles. It had a 
 loveliness and symmetry in the air of it, so pleasing 
 to the eye, and refreshing to the mind, that neither 
 the splendor of the Escurial nor the glorious appear- 
 ance of Versailles were able to stand in competition 
 with it. We had a boiled swan for supper, which 
 gave plentiful repasts to all our upper mess. 
 
 Our bodies thus refreshed with meat and sleep, 
 comforted with fires, and secured from all the changes 
 and inclemencies of that sharp piercing cold season, 
 we thought the morning (tho' clad in sunshine) did 
 come too fast upon us. Breakfast was liberally pro- 
 vided and set before us, our arms faithfully delivered 
 up to my order for carriage ; and thus in readiness 
 to set forward, we put ourselves in a posture to pro- 
 ceed to the place where the king resided. The 
 woman left behind at the island, had been well 
 looked to, and was now brought off to the care of 
 her comrade that came with us ; neither of them in 
 a condition to take a journey, but they were care- 
 fully attended and nourished in this poor man's house, 
 till such time as boats came to fetch them to Virginia, 
 where they did soon arrive in perfect health, and 
 lived (one or both of them) to be well married, and 
 
1,6 COLONEL NORWOOD. 
 
 to bear children, and to subsist in as plentiful a con- 
 dition as they could wish. 
 
 In beginning our journey thro' the woods, we 
 had not advanced half a mile till we heard a great 
 noise of men's voices, directed to meet and stop our 
 further passage. These were several Indians sent 
 by the king to order us back to our quarters. Major 
 Stephens (not cured of his jealous humour by the 
 experience of what he felt the night before) took this 
 alarm in a very bad sense, and as much different 
 from the rest of the company as in his former fit. 
 He was again deluded with a strong fancy, that these 
 violent motions in the Indians who approached us, 
 were the effect of some sudden change in their coun- 
 sels to our detriment, and that nothing less than our 
 perdition could be the consequence thereof, which 
 he feared would immediately be put in practice by 
 the clamorous men that made such haste to meet us, 
 and (as he would apprehend) to kill and destroy us. 
 
 This passion of Major Stephens, cast in the same 
 mould with that other he discovered in the island, 
 had not (as we all thought and told him) whereon 
 to raise the least foundation of terror to affright a 
 child ; for besides the earnest we had received of 
 their good intentions the night before, these men who 
 came so fast upon us, were all unarmed ; nor was it 
 likely, that king would now possibly imbrew his 
 hands in our blood, and provoke he knew not how 
 powerful a nation to destroy him, after such kind 
 caresses, and voluntary expressions of a temper very 
 contrary to such cruelty. In fine, we saw no cause 
 in all the carriage of the Indians on which I could 
 ground any fear, and therefore I longed with all 
 
INDIAN HOSPITALITY. 2$ 
 
 impatience to see this king, and to enjoy the plenty 
 of his table, as we quickly did. 
 
 When these Indians came up to us, this doubt was 
 soon cleared. The good-natured king being in- 
 formed of our bodily weakness, and inability to walk 
 thro' the woods to his house on foot (which might 
 be about four miles distant from our setting out) had 
 a real tenderness for us, and sent canoes to carry us 
 to the place nearest his house, by the favour of another 
 branch of the same creek ; and to the end we might 
 take no vain steps (as we were going to do) and 
 exhaust our strength to no purpose, these Indians 
 made this noise to stop us. 
 
 We entered the canoes that were manned, and lay 
 ready to receive us. We had a pleasant passage in 
 the shallow water, eat oysters all the way : for altho' 
 the breakfast we had newly made, might well excuse 
 a longer abstinence than we were like to be put to, 
 our arrear to our stomachs was so great, that all we 
 swallowed was soon concocted, and our appetite still 
 fresh and craving more. 
 
 Having passed this new course for some three Eng- 
 lish miles in another branch of the creek, our landing 
 place was contrived to be near the house of the queen 
 then in waiting. She was a very plain lady to see 
 to, not young, nor yet ill-favoured. Her complexion 
 was of a sad white : but the measures of beauty in 
 those parts where they are exposed to the scorching 
 sun from their infancy, are not taken from red and 
 white, but from colours that will better lie upon their 
 tawny skins, as hereafter will be seen. 
 
 The beauty of this queen's mind (which is more 
 permanent than that of color) was conspicuous in 
 
28 COLONEL NORWOOD. 
 
 her charity and generosity to us poor starved weather- 
 beaten creatures, who were the object of it. A mat 
 was spread without the house, upon the ground, fur- 
 nished with pone, hominy, oysters, and other things. 
 The queen made us sit down and eat, with gestures 
 that shewed more of courtesy than majesty, but did 
 speak as hearty welcome as could in silence be ex- 
 pected : and these were the graces that, in our opin- 
 ion, transcended all other beauties in the world, and 
 did abundantly supply all defects of outward appear- 
 ance in the person and garb of the queen. The 
 southerly wind made the season tolerable ; but that 
 lasted but little, the north-west gale coming violently 
 on us again. 
 
 When this collation of the queen was at an end, 
 we took leave of her majesty with all the shews of 
 gratitude that silence knew how to utter. We were 
 now within half an hour's walk of the king's man- 
 sion, which we soon discovered by the smoke, and 
 saw it was made of the same stuff with the other 
 houses from which we had newly parted, namely, of 
 mat and reed. Locust posts sunk in the ground at 
 corners and partitions, was the strength of the whole 
 fabric. The roof was tied fast to the body with a 
 sort of strong rushes that grow there, which supplied 
 the place of nails and pins, mortises and tenants. 
 
 The breadth of this palace was about eighteen or 
 twenty foot, the length about twenty yards. The 
 only furniture was several platforms for lodging, 
 each about two yards long and more, placed on both 
 sides of the house, distant from each other about five 
 foot ; the space in the middle was the chimney, which 
 had a hole in the roof over it, to receive as much of 
 
INDIAN HOSPITALITY. 29 
 
 the smoke as would naturally repair to it ; the rest we 
 shared amongst us, which was the greatest part ; and 
 the sitters divided to each side, as our soldiers do in 
 their corps de guarde. 
 
 Fourteen great fires, thus situated, were burning all 
 at once. The king's apartment had a distinction 
 from the rest ; it was twice as long, and the bank he 
 sat on was adorned with deer skins finely dressed, 
 and the best furs of otter and beaver that the country 
 did produce. 
 
 The fire assigned to us was suitable to our number, 
 to which we were conducted, without intermixture 
 of any Indian but such as came to do us offices of 
 friendship. There we were permitted to take our 
 rest until the king pleased to enter into communica- 
 tion with us. Previous to which he sent his daugh- 
 ter, a well-favored young girl of about ten or twelve 
 years old, with a great wooden bowl full of hominy 
 (which is the corn of that country, beat and boiled 
 to mash). She did in a most obliging manner give 
 me the first taste of it, which I would have handed 
 to my next neighbor after I had eaten, but the young 
 princess interposed her hand, and taking the bowl out 
 of mine, delivered it to the same party I aimed to 
 give it, and so to all the rest in order. Instead of 
 a spoon there was a well-shaped muscle-shell that 
 accompanied the bowl. 
 
 The linen of that country grows ready made on 
 the branches of oak trees (or pine) ; the English call 
 it moss. It is like the threads of unwhited cotton- 
 yarn ravelled, and hangs in parcels on the lower 
 boughs, divine providence having so ordered it for 
 the conveniency and sustenance of the deer, which is 
 
30 COLONEL NORWOOD. 
 
 all the food they can get in times of snow. It is very 
 soft, sweet and cleanly, and fit for the purpose of 
 wiping clean the hands, and doing the duty of nap- 
 kins. 
 
 About three hours after this meal was ended, the 
 king sent to have me come to him. He called me 
 Ny a Mutt which is to say, My brother, and com- 
 pelled me to sit down on the same bank with him- 
 self, which I had reason to look upon as a mighty 
 favor. After I had sat there about half an hour, 
 and taken notice of many earnest discourses and 
 repartees betwixt the king and • his croteme?i 
 (so the Indians call the king's council) I could 
 plainly discover, that the debate they held was con- 
 cerning our adventure and coming there. To make 
 it more clear, the king addressed himself to me with 
 many gestures of his body, his arms displayed in 
 various postures, to explain what he had in his mind 
 to utter for my better understanding. By all which 
 motions I was not edified in the least, nor could 
 imagine what return to make by voice or sign, to 
 satisfy the king's demands in any thing that related 
 to the present straights of our condition. In fine, I 
 admired their patient sufferance of my dulness to com- 
 prehend what they meant, and shewed myself to be 
 troubled at it ; which being perceived by the king, he 
 turned all into mirth and jollity, and never left till 
 he made me laugh with him, tho' I knew nor whv. 
 
 I took that occasion to present the king with n 
 sword and long shoulder-belt, which he receive! 
 very kindly ; and to witness his gracious accept- 
 ance, he threw off his Mach coat (or upper cover- 
 ing of skin), stood upright on his bank, and, with 
 
INDIAN HOSPITALITY. 31 
 
 my aid, did accoutre his naked body with his new 
 harness, which had no other apparel to adorn it, 
 besides a few skins about his loins to cover his 
 nakedness. In this dress he seemed to be much 
 delighted ; but to me he appeared a figure of such 
 extraordinary shape, with sword and belt to set it 
 off, that he needed now no other art to stir me up 
 to laughter and mirth, than the sight of his own 
 proper person. 
 
 Having made this short acquaintance with the 
 king, I took leave, and returned to my comrades. 
 In passing the spaces betwixt fire and fire, one space 
 amongst the rest was blinded with a traverse of mat ; 
 and by the noise I heard from thence, like the beat- 
 ing of hemp, I took it to be some kind of elabora- 
 tory. To satisfy a curiosity I had to be more 
 particularly informed, I edged close to the mat ; and, 
 by standing on tiptoe for a full discovery, I saw a 
 sight that gave me no small trouble. The same 
 specifical queen (whose courtesy for our kind usage 
 the other day, can never be enough applauded) was 
 now employed in the hard servile labour of beating 
 corn for the king's dinner, which raised the noise 
 that made me thus inquisitive. I wished myself in 
 her place for her ease : but the queens of that 
 country do esteem it a privilege to serve their hus- 
 bands in all kinds of cookery, which they would be 
 as loth to lose, as any Christian queen would be to 
 take it from them. 
 
 Several Indians of the first rank followed me to 
 our quarters, and used their best endeavors to sift 
 something from us that might give them light into 
 knowing what we were. They sought many ways 
 
32 COLONEL NORWOOD. 
 
 to make their thoughts intelligible to us, but still we 
 parted without knowing what to fix upon, or how to 
 steer our course in advance of our way to Virginia. 
 
 AN INDIAN PRINCESS. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 To the young princess, that had so signally 
 obliged me, I presented a piece of two-penny scarlet 
 ribbon, and a French tweezer, that I had in my 
 pocket, which made her skip for joy, and to shew 
 how little she fancied our way of carrying them 
 concealed, she retired apart for some time, and tak- 
 ing out every individual piece of which it was fur- 
 nished, she tied a snip of ribbon to each, and so 
 came back with scissors, knives and bodkins hanging 
 at her ears, neck and hair. The case itself was not 
 excused, but bore a part in this new dress : and to 
 the end we might not part without leaving deep 
 impressions of her beauty in our minds, she had pre- 
 pared on her forefingers, a lick of paint on each, the 
 colors (to my best remembrance) green and yellow, 
 which at one motion she discharged on her face, 
 beginning upon her temples, and continuing it in an 
 oval line downwards as far as it would hold out. 
 I could have wished this young princess would have 
 contented herself with what nature had done for her, 
 without this addition of paint (which, I thought, 
 made her more fulsome than handsome) ; but I had 
 reason to imagine the royal family were only to use 
 
AN INDIAN PRINCESS. 33 
 
 this ornament exclusive of all others, for that I saw 
 none other of her sex so set off ; and this conceit 
 made it turn again, and appear lovely, as all things 
 should do that are honored with the royal stamp. 
 
WILLIAM BRADFORD. 
 
 William Bradford was born at Austcrfield in 
 Yorkshire in March of 1588, and died at Plymouth, 
 Massachusetts, on the 9th of May, 1657. Born a 
 yeoman freeholder of Yorkshire, of native seriousness 
 and inclined to religion, he joined the Puritans at 
 eighteen, and at twenty emigrated to Holland, where 
 he was prominent in urging the emigration of his 
 co-religionists to sons English colony. With a 
 hundred like-minded men, the future Pilgrim Fathers, 
 he embarked at Southampton for Virginia, in Septem- 
 ber of 1620, and on the death of Governor Carver, 
 a few months after the landing at Plymouth, was 
 chDsen governor of the Colony, a post which he 
 held, with brief intermissions, till his death. In his 
 writings he tells the story of the planting of Plymouth, 
 to which his diplomacy, energy, and firmness contrib- 
 uted essentially. The account of the events of the 
 first year, known through a mistake as " Mourt's 
 Relation," to which his fellow-Pilgrim, Edward Wins- 
 low, also contributed, was alone published during his 
 lifetime (1622). Much more important is his His- 
 tory of Plymouth Plantation from 1620 to 1647, 
 a manuscript of 270 pages that, for many years before 
 the Revolutionary War, was preserved in the. Old 
 South Church, Boston. During that troubled time 
 it disappeared and was lost to scholars until the use 
 
 34 
 
WILLIAM BRADFORD. 35 
 
 of it, made in Samuel Wilberforce's History of the 
 Protestant Episcopal Church in America revealed 
 its presence at Fulham Palace, London, to the 
 American antiquarian Samuel Drake. The clew thus 
 obtained was followed up, the manuscript proved 
 indeed to be Bradford's own, the Bishop of London 
 gave permission to copy and print, and in 1856 the 
 long-standing gap in our early literature was filled 
 under the auspices of the Massachusetts Historical 
 Society. Forty-two years later the manuscript itself 
 was transferred to America by the courtesy of the 
 Bishop of London and is now in the State House 
 at Boston. A new edition and a 7incograph fac- 
 simile was issued by the State to corrrr.cmorate this 
 event. Bradford's other writings are contained, for 
 the greater part, in Alexander Young's Chronicles of 
 the Pilgrim Fathers (1 841-1846). like the man, 
 his chief work is characterized by dignity, sobriety, 
 benignity, and piety. Bradford was a statesman and 
 a scholar, a man of some literary ability and of 
 historical acumen, but above all he was a man of 
 balanced mind, of that type of which Washington 
 and Alfred the Great are the noblest exemplars. He 
 was well qualified to guide the infant Colony in lay- 
 ing its sure foundations, well qualified too to write 
 of the task at which he labored. He was a conscien- 
 tious historian, using in the main a straightforward, 
 simple style ; yet not infrequently the spiritual emo- 
 tion, never long absent from a true Puritan, over- 
 masters him and informs his pages with pathos and 
 dignity. 
 
36 WILLIAM BRADFORD. 
 
 DEPARTURE OF THE PILGRIMS (1620). 
 
 [From the History "Of Plymouth Planta- 
 tion," Book I.] 
 
 THE SEVENTH CHAPTER. 
 
 Of their departure from Leyden, and other things 
 there about, with their arrival at Southampton, where 
 they all met together, and took in their provisions. 
 
 At length, after much travail and these debates, all 
 things were got ready and provided. A small ship 1 
 was bought and fitted in Holland which was intended 
 as to serve to help to transport them, so to stay in 
 the country, and attend upon fishing and such other 
 affairs as might be for the good and benefit of the 
 colony when they came there. Another was hired 
 at London, of burden about 9. score ; and all other 
 things got in readiness. So being ready to depart, 
 they had a day of solemn humiliation, their pastor 
 taking his text from Ezra 8. 21. And there at the 
 river, by Ahava, 1 proclaimed a fast that we might 
 humble ourselves before our God, and seek of him a 
 right way for us, and for our children, and for all our 
 substance. Upon which he spent a good part of 
 the day very profitably, and suitable to their present 
 occasion. The rest of the time was spent in pouring 
 out prayers to the Lord with great fervency mixed 
 with abundance of tears. And the time being come 
 that they must depart, they were accompanied with 
 most of their brethren out of the city, unto a town 
 
 1 Of some sixty tons. 
 
DEPARTURE OF PILGRIMS. 37 
 
 sundry miles off called Delfes Haven, where the 
 ships lay ready to receive them. So they left that 
 goodly and pleasant city, which had been their resting 
 place, near 1 2 years ; but they knew thev were 
 pilgrims 1 and looked not much on those things, but lift 
 up their eyes to the heavens, their dearest coun- 
 try, and quieted their spirits. When they came 
 to the place they found the ship and all things 
 ready. And such of their friends as could not come 
 with them followed after them, and sundry also came 
 from Amsterdam to see them shipped and to take 
 their leave of them. That night was spent with 
 little sleep by the most, but with friendly entertain- 
 ment and Christian discourse, and other real expres- 
 sions of true Christian love. The next day the 
 wind being fair they went aboard, and their friends 
 with them, where truly doleful was the sight of 
 that sad and mournful parting ; To see what sighs and 
 sobs and prayers did sound amongst them, what tears 
 did rush from every eye, and pithy speeches pierced 
 each heart ; that sundry of the Dutch strangers that 
 stood on the quay as spectators, could not refrain 
 from tears. Yet comfortable and sweet it was to 
 see such lively and true expressions of dear and un- 
 fained love. But the tide (which stays for no man) 
 calling them away that were thus loath to depart, their 
 reverend pastor falling down on his knees (and they 
 all with him,) with watery cheeks commended them 
 with most fervent prayers to the Lord and his bless- 
 ing And then with mutual embraces and many 
 tears, they took their leaves one of another ; which 
 proved to be the last leave to many of them. 
 
 1 Heb. fc 
 
38 WILLIAM BRADFORD. 
 
 Thus hoisting sail, 1 with a prosperous wind they 
 came in short time to Southampton, where they 
 found the bigger ship come from London, lying 
 ready with all the rest of their company. After a 
 joyful welcome, and mutual congratulations, with 
 other friendly entertainments, they fell to parley 
 about their business, how to dispatch with the best 
 expedition ; as also with their agents, about the 
 alteration of the conditions. Mr. Carver pleaded 
 he was employed here at Hampton and knew not well 
 what the other had done at London. Mr. Cush- 
 man answered, he had done nothing but what he 
 was urged to partly by the grounds of equity and 
 more especially by necessity, otherwise all had been 
 dashed and many undone. And in the beginning he 
 acquainted his fellow agents herewith, who con- 
 sented unto him, and left it to him to execute, and to 
 receive the money at London, and send it down to 
 them at Hampton, where they made the provisions ; 
 the which he accordingly did, though it was against 
 his mind, and some of the merchants, that they were 
 there made. And for giving them notice at Leyden 
 of this change, he could not well in regard of the 
 shortness of the time; again, he knew it would trouble 
 them and hinder the business, which was already 
 delayed overlong in regard of the season of the year, 
 which he feared they would find to their cost. But 
 these things gave not content at present. Mr. 
 Weston, likewise, came up from London to see 
 them dispatched and to have the conditions con- 
 firmed ; but they refused, and answered him, that he 
 Knew right well that these were not according to the 
 
 1 This vJae about 22 of July. 
 
THE COMPACT. 39 
 
 first agreement, neither could they yield to them 
 without the consent of the rest that were behind and 
 indeed they had special charge when they came 
 away, from the chief of those that were behind, not 
 to do it. At which he was much offended, and 
 told them, they must then look to stand on their 
 own legs. So he returned in displeasure, and this was 
 the first ground of discontent between them. And 
 whereas there wanted well near ^100 to clear things 
 at their going away, he would not take order to 
 disburse a penny, but let them shift as they could. 
 So they were forced to sell off some of their provi- 
 sions to stop this gap which was some 3. or 4. score 
 firkins of butter, which commodity they might best 
 spare, having provided too large a quantity of that 
 kind. 
 
 THE COMPACT. 
 [From the Same, Book II.] 
 
 THE 2 BOOKE. 
 
 The rest of this History (if God gives me life, and 
 opportunity) I shall, for brevity's sake, handle by way 
 of Annals, noting only the heads of principal things, 
 and passages as they fell in order of time, and may 
 seem to be profitable to know, or to make use of. 
 And this may be as the second Book. 
 
 The Remainder of Anno : 1620. 
 
 I shall a little return back and begin with a com- 
 bination made by them before they came ashore, being 
 the first foundation of their government in this place ; 
 
40 WILLIAM BRADFORD. 
 
 occasioned partly by the discontented mutinous and 
 speeches that some of the strangers amongst them had 
 let fall from them in the ship — That when they came 
 ashore they would use their own liberty ; for none 
 had power to command them, the patent they had 
 being for Virginia, and not for New England, which 
 belonged to another Government, with which the 
 Virginia Company had nothing to do. And partly 
 that such an act by them done (this their condition 
 considered) might be as firm as any patent, and in 
 some respects more sure. 
 
 The form was as followeth. 1 
 
 In y e name of God, Amen. We whose names are 
 vnderwriten, the loyall subje&s of our dread soueraigne 
 Lord, l&iug 3ameS, by y e grace of God, of great Brit- 
 aine, Franc, & Ireland king, defender of y e faith, &c. 
 
 Haueing vndertaken, for y e glorie of God, and ad- 
 vancemente of y e christian faith and honour of our 
 king & countrie, a voyage to plant y e first colonie in 
 y e Northene parts of Virginia. Doe by these pres- 
 ents solemnly & mutualy in y e presence of God, and' 
 one of another, couenant, & combine our selues to- 
 geather into a Ciuill body politick, for our better 
 ordering, & preseruation & furtherance of y e ends 
 aforesaid ; and by Vertue hearof to enacte, constitute, 
 and frame, such just & equall lawes, ordinances, Acts, 
 constitutions, & offices, from time to time, as shall be 
 thought most meete & conuenient for y e generall good 
 of y e Colonie, vnto which we promise all due sub- 
 mission and obedience. In witnes whereof we haue 
 herevnder subscribed our names at Cap-Codd y e . 1 1 . 
 
 1 In the original orthography. 
 
THE COMPACT. 41 
 
 of Nouember, in y e year of y e raigne of our souer- 
 aigne Lord, King lames, of England, France, & Ireland 
 y e eighteenth, and of Scotland y e fiftie fourth. An c 
 Dom. 1620J 
 
42 WILLIAM BRADFORD. 
 
 EARLY DIFFICULTIES OF THE PILGRIM 
 FATHERS (1620). 
 
 [From the Same, Book II.] 
 
 In these hard and difficult beginnings they found 
 some discontents and murmurings arise amongst some, 
 and mutinous speeches and carriages in other ; but 
 they were soon quelled, and overcome, by the wis- 
 dom, patience, and just and equal carriage of things, 
 by the Governor and better part which clave faith- 
 fully together in the main. But that which was most 
 sad, and lamentable, was, that in two or three months' 
 time half of their company died, especially in January 
 and February, being the depth of winter, and wanting 
 houses and other comforts ; being infected with scurvy 
 and other diseases, which this long voyage and their 
 inaccommodate condition had brought upon them ; 
 so as there died sometimes two or three of a day, in 
 the foresaid time ; that of one hundred and odd 
 persons scarce fifty remained : and of these in the 
 time of most distress there was but six or seven 
 sound persons ; who to their great commendations, be 
 it spoken, spared no pains, night nor day, but with 
 abandance of toil and hazard of their own health, 
 fetched them wood, made them fires, drest them meat, 
 made their beds, washed their loathsome clothes, 
 clothed and unclothed them ; in a word did all the 
 homely, and necessary offices for them, which dainty 
 and queasy stomachs cannot endure to hear named 
 and all this willingly and cheerfully, without any 
 grudging in the least, showing herein their true love 
 
EARLY DIFFICULTIES. 43 
 
 unto their friends and brethren ; a rare example and 
 worthy to be remembered. Two of these seven 
 were Mr. William Brewster their reverend Elder, 
 and Myles Standish their Captain and military com- 
 mander (unto whom myself, and many others were 
 much beholden in our low, and sick condition) and 
 yet the Lord so upheld these persons, as in this gen- 
 eral calamity they were not at all infected either with 
 sickness, or lameness. And what I have said of these, 
 I may say of many others who died in this general 
 visitation and others yet living ; that whilst they had 
 health, yea or any strength continuing they were not 
 wanting to any that had need of them ; and I doubt 
 not but their recompense is with the Lord. 
 
 But I may not here pass by another remarkable 
 passage not to be forgotten. As this calamity fell 
 among the passengers that were to be ■feft here to 
 plant, and were hasted ashore and made to drink 
 water, that the seamen might have the more beer, 
 and one l in his sickness desiring but a small can of 
 beer, it was answered, that if he were their own 
 father he should have none ; the disease began to fall 
 amongst them also, so as almost half of their company 
 died before they went away, and many of their offi- 
 cers and lustiest men, as the boatswain, gunner, three 
 quartermasters, the cook, and others. At which the 
 master was something struck and sent to the sick 
 ashore and told the Governor he should send for 
 beer for them that had need of it, though he drunk 
 water homeward bound. But now amongst his com- 
 pany there was far another kind of carriage in this 
 misery than amongst the passengers ; for they that 
 
 1 Which was this author himself. 
 
44 WILLIAM BRADFORD. 
 
 before had been boon companions in drinking and 
 jollity in the time of their health and welfare, began 
 now to desert one another in this calamity, saying 
 they would not hazard their lives for them, they 
 should be infected by coming to help them in their 
 cabins, and so, after they came to die by it, would 
 do little or nothing for them, but if they died let them 
 die. But such of the passengers as were yet aboard 
 showed them what mercy they could, which made 
 some of their hearts relent, as the boatswain (and 
 some others), who was a proud young man, and 
 would often curse and scoff at the passengers : but when 
 he grew weak, they had compassion on him and 
 helped him ; then he confessed he did not deserve it 
 at their hands, he had abused them in word and deed. 
 O ! saith he, you, I now see, show your love like 
 Christians indeed one to another, but we let one an- 
 other lie and die like dogs. Another lay cursing his 
 wife, saying if it had not been for her he had never 
 come this unlucky voyage, and anon cursing his fellows, 
 saying he had done this and that, for some of them, 
 he had spent so much, and so much, amongst them, 
 and they were now weary of him, and did not help 
 him, having need. Another gave his companion all 
 he had, if he died, to help him in his weakness : he 
 went and got a little spice and made him a mess of 
 meat once or twice, and because he died not so soon 
 as he expected, he went amongst his fellows, and 
 swore the rogue would cozen him, he would see him 
 choked before he made him any more meat : and yet 
 the poor fellow died before morning. 
 
 All this while the Indians came skulking about them, 
 and would sometimes show themselves aloof of, but 
 
EARLY DIFFICULTIES. 45 
 
 when any approached near them, they would run 
 away ; and once they stole away their tools where 
 they had been at work and were gone to dinner. 
 But about the 16 of March a certain Indian came 
 boldly amongst them, and spoke to them in broken 
 English, which they could well understand, but mar- 
 velled at it. At length they understood by discourse 
 with him, that he was not of these parts, but 
 belonged to the eastern parts where some English 
 ships came to fish, with whom he was acquainted, 
 and could name sundry of them by their names, 
 amongst whom he had got his language. He became 
 profitable to them in acquainting them with many 
 things concerning the state of the country in the East- 
 parts where he lived, which was afterwards profitable 
 unto them ; as also of the people here, of their 
 names, number and strength, of their situation and 
 distance from this place, and who was chief amongst 
 them. His name was Samasett ; he told them also 
 of another Indian whose name was Squanto, a native 
 of this place, who had been in England and could 
 speak better English than himself. Being after some 
 time of entertainment, and gifts dismissed, a while 
 after he came again, and five more with him, and 
 they brought again all the tools that were stolen 
 away before, and made way for the coming of their 
 great Sachem, called Massasoyt. Who about four or 
 five days came with the chief of his friends, and 
 other attendance with the aforesaid Squanto. With 
 whom after friendly entertainment, and some gifts 
 given him, they made a peace with him (which hath 
 now continued this twenty-four years). 
 
46 WILLIAM BRADFORD. 
 
 CHRISTMAS SPORTS (1622). 
 
 [From the Same, Book II.] 
 
 On the day called Christmas- day, the Governor 
 called them out to work, (as was used) but the most 
 of this new company excused themselves, and said it 
 went against their consciences to work on that day. 
 So the Governor told them that if they made it mat- 
 ter of conscience, he would spare them, till they 
 were better informed ; so he led away the rest and 
 left them ; but when they came home at noon, from 
 their work, he found them in the street at play 
 openly ; some pitching the bar, and some at stool- 
 ball, and such like sports. So he went to them, and 
 took away their implements, and told them, that was 
 against his conscience, that they should play, and 
 others work ; if they made the keeping of it matter 
 of devotion, let them keep their houses, but there 
 should be no gaming, or revelling in the streets. 
 Since which time nothing hath been attempted that 
 way, at least openly. . . . 
 
 THE COMMUNAL SYSTEM ABANDONED 
 
 (1623). 
 
 [From the Same, Book IL] 
 
 So they began to think how they might raise as 
 much corn as they could, and obtain a better crop 
 than they had done ; that they might not still thus 
 'anguish in misery. At length, af.er much debate 
 
THE COMMUNAL SYSTEM. 47 
 
 of things, the Governor (with the advice of the 
 chiefest amongst them) gave way that they should set 
 corn every man for his own particular, and in that 
 regard trust to themselves ; in all other things to go 
 on in the general way as before. And so assigned to 
 every family a parcel of land, according to the pro- 
 portion of their number, for that end, only for present 
 use (but made no division for inheritance), and 
 ranged all boys, and youth under some family. This 
 had very good success ; for it made all hands very 
 industrious, so as much more corn was planted, than 
 otherwise would have been ; by any means the Gov- 
 ernor or any other could use, and saved him a great 
 deal of trouble, and gave far better content. The 
 women now went willingly into the field, and took 
 their little ones with them to set corn ; which before 
 would allege weakness and inability ; whom to have 
 compelled would have been thought great tyranny, 
 and oppression. 
 
 The experience that was had in this common course, 
 and condition, tried sundry years, and that amongst 
 godly, and sober men ; may well evince, the vanity 
 of that conceit of Plato's, and other ancients, applauded 
 by some of later times. That the taking away of 
 property, and bringing in community into a com- 
 monwealth ; would make them happy and flour- 
 ishing ; as if they were wiser than God ; for this 
 community, (so far as it was) was found to breed 
 much confusion, and discontent, and retard much 
 employment, that would have been to their benefit, 
 and comfort. For the young men that were most 
 able and fit for labor, and service, did repine that 
 they should spend their time and strength to work 
 
48 WILLIAM BRADFORD. 
 
 for other men's wives, and children, without any 
 recompense. The strong, or man of parts, had no 
 more in division of victuals, and clothes, than he that 
 was weak, and not able to do a quarter the other 
 could, this was thought injustice. The aged and 
 graver men to be ranked, and equalised, in labors, and 
 victuals, clothes, &c, with the meaner, and younger 
 sort, thought it some indignity, and disrespect unto 
 them. And for men's wives to be commanded, to 
 do service for other men, as dressing their meat, wash- 
 ing their clothes, &c, they deemed it a kind of slav- 
 ery, neither could many husbands well brook it. 
 Upon the point all being to have alike, and all to do 
 alike, they thought themselves in the like condition, 
 and one as good as another ; and so if it did not cut 
 off those relations, that God hath set amongst men ; 
 yet it did at least much diminish, and take off the 
 mutual respects, that should be preserved amongst 
 them. And would have been worse if they had been 
 men of another condition. Let none object this is 
 men's corruption ; and nothing to the course itself; 
 I answer, seeing all men have this corruption in them, 
 God in his wisdom saw another course fitter for 
 them. 
 
 But to return. After this course settled, and by 
 that their corn was planted, all their victuals were 
 spent, and they were only to rest on God's provi- 
 dence ; at night not many times knowing where to 
 have a bit of any thing the next day. And so, as one 
 well observed, had need to pray that God would give 
 them their daily bread, above all people in the world. 
 Yet they bore these wants with great patience and 
 alacrity of spirit, and that for so long a time as for the 
 
THE COMMUNAL SYSTEM. 49 
 
 most part of two years ; which makes me remember 
 what Peter Martyr writes, (in magnifying the Span- 
 iards) in his Fifth Decade, page 208. They (saith 
 he) led a miserable life for five days together ■, with 
 the parched grain of maize only, and that not to 
 saturity ; and then concludes, that such pains, such 
 labors, and such hunger, he thought none living which 
 is not a Spaniard could have endured. But alas ! 
 these, when they had maize (that is, Indian corn) 
 they thought it as good as a feast, and wanted not 
 only for five days together, but some times two or 
 three months together, and neither had bread nor any 
 kind of corn. Indeed, in another place, in his Sec- 
 ond Decade page 94. he mentions how others of them 
 were worse put to it, where they were fain to eat 
 dogs, toads, and dead men, and so died almost all. 
 From these extremities the Lord in his goodness kept 
 these his people, and in their wants preserved both 
 their lives and their healths ; let his name have the 
 praise. Yet let me here make use of his conclusion, 
 which in some sort may be applied to this people : 
 That with their miseries they opened a way to these 
 new lands ; and after these storms, with what ease 
 other men came to inhabit in them, in respect of the 
 calamities these men suffered ; so as they seem to go to 
 a bride feast where all things are provided for them. 
 
50 WILLIAM BRADFORD. 
 
 MORTON AND MERRY MOUNT (1628). 
 
 [From the Same, Book 11.] 
 
 About some three or four years before this time, 
 there came over one Captain Wollaston, (a man of 
 pretty parts,) and with him three or four more of 
 some eminency, who brought with them a great many 
 servants, with provisions and other implements for to 
 begin a plantation ; and pitched themselves in a place 
 within the Massachusetts, which they called, after 
 their captain's name, Mount Wollaston. Amongst 
 whom was one Mr. Morton, who, it should seem, 
 had some small adventure (of his own or other men's) 
 amongst them ; but had little respect amongst them, 
 and was slighted by the meanest servants. Having 
 continued there some time, and not finding things to 
 answer their expectations, nor profit to arise as they 
 looked for, Captain Wollaston takes a great part of 
 the servants, and transports tnem to Virginia, where 
 he puts them off at good rates, selling their time to 
 other men ; and writes back to one Mr. Rassdall, one 
 of his chief partners, and accounted their merchant, 
 to bring another part of them to Virginia likewise, 
 intending to put them off there as he had done the 
 rest. And he, with the consent of the said Rassdall, 
 appointed one Fkcher to be his Lieutenant, and gov- 
 ern the remains of the plantation, till he or Rassdall 
 returned to take further order thereabout. But this 
 Morton above-said, having more craft than honesty, 
 (who had been a kind of pettifogger, of Furnefell's 
 Inn,) in the other's absence, watches an opportunity, 
 
MORTON AND MERRY MOUNT. 5 1 
 
 (commons being but hard amongst them,) and got 
 some strong drink and other junkets, and made them 
 a feast ; and after they were merry, he began to tell 
 them, he would give them good counsel. "You 
 see," saith he, "that many of your fellows are 
 carried to Virginia ; and if you stay till this Rassdall 
 return, you will also be carried away and sold for 
 slaves with the rest. Therefore I would advise you 
 to thrust out this Lieutenant Fitcher ; and I, having 
 a part in the plantation, will receive you as my part- 
 ners and consociates ; so may you be free from ser- 
 vice, and we will converse, trade, plant, and live 
 together as equals, and support and protect one an- 
 other," or to like effect. This counsel Was easily 
 received ; so they took opportunity, and thrust Lieu- 
 tenant Fitcher out of doors, and would suffer him 
 to come no more amongst them, but forced him to 
 seek bread to eat, and other relief from his neighbors, 
 till he could get passages for England. After this 
 they fell to great licentiousness, and led a dissolute 
 life, pouring out themselves into all profaneness. 
 And Morton became lord of misrule, and maintained 
 (as it were) a school of Atheism. And after they 
 had got some goods into their hands, and got much 
 by trading with the Indians, they spent it as vainly, in 
 quaffing and drinking both wine and strong waters in 
 great excess, and, as some reported, ten shillings 
 worth in a morning. They also set up a May-pole, 
 drinking and dancing about it many days together, 
 inviting the Indian women, for their consorts, danc- 
 ing and frisking together, (like so many fairies, or 
 furies rather,) and worse practices. As if they had 
 anew revived and celebrated the feast of the Roman 
 
52 WILLIAM BRADFORD. 
 
 goddess Flora, or the beastly practices of the mad 
 Bacchanalians. Morton likewise (to show his poetry) 
 composed sundry rhymes and verses, some tending to 
 lasciviousness, and others to the detraction and scandal 
 of some persons, which he affixed to this idle or idol 
 May-pole. They changed also the name of their 
 place, and instead of calling it Mount Wollaston, 
 they call it Merry Mount, as if this jollity would 
 have lasted ever. But this continued not long, for 
 after Morton was sent for England, (as follows to be 
 declared,) shortly after came over that worthy gentle- 
 man, Mr. John Endicott, who brought over a patent 
 under the broad seal, for the government of the 
 Massachusetts, who visiting those parts caused that 
 May-pole to be cut down, and rebuked them for their 
 profaneness, and admonished them to look there should 
 be better walking ; so they now, or others, changed 
 the name of their place again, and called it Mount 
 Dagon. 
 
 Now, to maintain this riotous prodigality and pro- 
 fuse excess, Morton, thinking himself lawless, and 
 hearing what gain the French and fishermen made by 
 trading of pieces, powder, and shot to the Indians, 
 he, as the head of this consortship, began the practice 
 of the same in these parts ; and first he taught them 
 how to use them, to charge and discharge, and what 
 proportion of powder to give the piece, according to 
 the size or bigness of the same ; and what shot to 
 use for fowl, and what for deer. And having thus 
 instructed them, he employed some of them to hunt 
 and fowl for him, so as they became far more active 
 in that employment than any of the English, by reason 
 of their swiftness of foot, and nimbleness of body, 
 
MORTON AND MERRY MOUNT. 53 
 
 being also quick-sighted, and by continual exercise 
 well knowing the haunts of all sorts of game. So as 
 when they saw the execution that a piece would do, 
 and the benefit that might come by the same, they 
 became mad, as it were, after them, afid would not 
 stick to give any price they could attain to for them ; 
 accounting their bows and arrows but baubles in com- 
 parison of them. 
 
 And here I may take occasion to bewail the mis- 
 chief that this wicked man began in these parts, and 
 which since base covetousness prevailing in men that 
 should know better, has now at length got the upper 
 hand, and made this thing common, notwithstanding 
 any laws to the contrary ; so as the Indians are full 
 of pieces all over, both fowling pieces, muskets, pis- 
 tols, etc. They have also their moulds to make shot, 
 of all sorts, as musket bullets, pistol bullets, swan and 
 goose shot, and of smaller sorts ; yea, some have seen 
 them have their screw-plates to make screw-pins them- 
 selves, when they want them, with sundry other im- 
 plements, wherewith they are ordinarily better fitted 
 and furnished than the English themselves. Yea, it 
 is well known that they will have powder and shot, 
 when the English want it, nor can not get it ; and 
 that in a time of war or danger, as experience hath 
 manifested, that when lead hath been scarce, and 
 men for their own defence would gladly have given 
 a groat a pound, which is dear enough, yet hath it 
 been bought up and sent to other places, and sold to 
 such as trade it with the Indians, at twelve pence the 
 pound ; and it is like they give three or four shillings 
 the pound, for they will have it at any rate. And 
 these things have been done in the same times, when 
 
54 WILLIAM BRADFORD. 
 
 some of their neighbors and friends are daily killed by 
 the Indians, or are in danger thereof, and live but at 
 the Indians' mercy. Yea, some (as they have ac- 
 quainted them with all other things) have told them 
 how gunpowder is made, and all the materials in it, 
 and that they are to be had in their own land ; and 
 I am confident, could they attain to make saltpetre, 
 they would teach them to make powder. Oh, the 
 horribleness of this villany ! how many both Dutch and 
 English have been lately slain by those Indians, thus 
 furnished ; and no remedy provided, nay, the evil more 
 increased, and the blood of their brethren sold for 
 gain, as is to be feared ; and in what danger all these 
 colonies are in is too well known. Oh ! that princes 
 and parliaments would take some timely order to 
 prevent this mischief, and at length to suppress it, by 
 some exemplary punishment upon some of these gain- 
 thirsty murderers, (for they deserve no better title,) 
 before their colonies in these parts be overthrown by 
 these barbarous savages, thus armed with their own 
 weapons, by these evil instruments, and traitors to 
 their neighbors and country. But I have forgot my- 
 self, and have been too long in this digression ; but 
 now to return : This Morton having thus taught 
 them the use of pieces, he sold them all he could 
 spare ; and he and his consorts determined to send 
 for many out of England, and had by some of the 
 ships sent for above a score ; the which being 
 known, and his neighbors meeting the Indians in the 
 woods armed with guns in this sort, it was a terror 
 unto them, who lived stragglingly, and were of no 
 strength in any place. And other places (though 
 more remote) saw this mischief would quickly spread 
 
MORTON AND MERRY MOUNT. 55 
 
 over all, if not prevented. Besides, they saw they 
 should keep no servants, for Morton would entertain 
 any, how vile soever, and all the scum of the coun- 
 try, or any discontents, would flock to him from all 
 places, if this nest was not broken ; and they should 
 stand in more fear of their lives and goods (in short 
 time) from this wicked and debauched crew, than 
 from the savages themselves. 
 
 So sundry of the chief of the straggling plantations, 
 meeting together, agreed by mutual consent to solicit 
 those of Plymouth (who were then of more strength 
 than them all) to join with them to prevent the fur- 
 ther growth of this mischief, and suppress Morton 
 and his consorts before they grew to further head and 
 strength. Those that joined in this action (and after 
 contributed to the charge of sending him for England) 
 were from Pascataway, Namkeake, Winisimett, Wee- 
 sagascusett, Natasco, and other places where any Eng- 
 lish were seated. Those of Plymouth being thus 
 sought too by their messengers and letters, and weigh- 
 ing both their reasons, and the common danger, were 
 willing to afford them their help ; though themselves 
 had least cause of fear or hurt. So, to be short, they 
 first resolved jointly to write to him, and in a friendly 
 and neighborly way to admonish him to forbear 
 these courses, and sent a messenger with their letters 
 to bring his answer. But he was so high as he scorned 
 all advice, and asked who had to do with him ; he 
 had and would trade pieces with the Indians in de- 
 spite of all, with many other scurrilous terms full of 
 disdain. They sent to him a second time, and bade 
 him be better advised, and more temperate in his terms, 
 for the country could not bear the injury he did ; it 
 
56 WILLIAM BRADFORD. 
 
 was against their common safety, and against the 
 king's proclamation. He answered in high terms as 
 before, and that the king's proclamation was no law ; 
 demanding what penalty was upon it. It was an- 
 swered, more than he could bear, his majesty's dis- 
 pleasure. But insolently he persisted, and said the 
 king was dead and his displeasure with him, and 
 many the like things ; and threatened withal that if any 
 came to molest him, let them look to themselves, for 
 he would prepare for them. Upon which they saw 
 there was no way but to take him by force ; and 
 having so far proceeded, now to give over would 
 make him far more haughty and insolent. So they 
 mutually resolved to proceed, and obtained of the 
 Governor of Plymouth to send Captain Standish, and 
 some other aid with him, to take Morton by force. 
 The which accordingly was done ; but they found 
 him to stand stiffly in his defence, having made fast 
 his doors, armed his consorts, set divers dishes of 
 powder and bullets ready on the table ; and if they 
 had not been overarmed with drink, more hurt might 
 have been done. They summoned him to yield, but 
 he kept his house, and they could get nothing but 
 scoffs and scorns from him ; but at length, fearing 
 they would do some violence to the house, he and 
 some of his crew came out, but not to yield, but to 
 shoot ; but they were so steeled with drink as their 
 pieces were too heavy for them ; himself with a car- 
 bine (overcharged and almost half filled with powder 
 and shot, as was after found) had thought to have 
 shot Captain Standish ; but he stepped to him, and 
 put by his piece, and took him. Neither was there 
 any hurt done to any of either side, save that one 
 
SOME REMARKABLE PASSAGES. S7 
 
 was so drunk that he ran his own nose upon the 
 point of a sword that one held before him as he en- 
 tered the house ; but he lost but a little of his hot 
 blood. Morton they brought away to Plymouth, 
 where he was kept, till a ship went from the Isle of 
 Shoals for England, with which he was sent to the 
 Council of New-England ; and letters written to give 
 them information of his course and carriage ; and also 
 one was sent at their common charge to inform their 
 Honors more particularly, and to prosecute against 
 him. But he fooled of the messenger, after he was 
 gone from hence, and though he went for England, 
 yet nothing was done to him, not so much as re- 
 buked, for aught was heard ; but returned the next 
 year. Some of the worst of the company were dis- 
 persed, and some of the more modest kept the house 
 till he should be heard from. But I have been too 
 long about so unworthy a person, and bad a cause. 
 
 SOME STRANGE AND REMARKABLE 
 PASSAGES (1634). 
 
 [From the Same, Book II.] 
 
 I am now to relate some strange and remarkable 
 passages. There was a company of people lived in 
 the country, up above in the river of Conigtecut, a 
 great way from their trading house there, and were 
 enemies to those Indians which lived about them, and 
 of whom they stood in some fear (being a stout peo- 
 ple). About a thousand of them had enclosed them- 
 
58 WILLIAM BRADFORD. 
 
 selves in a fort, which they had strongly pallisadoed 
 about. Three or four Dutchmen went up in the 
 beginning of winter to live with them, to get their 
 trade, and prevent them for bringing it to the Eng- 
 lish, or to fall into amity with them, but at spring to 
 bring all down to their place. But their enterprise 
 failed, for it pleased God to visit these Indians with a 
 great sickness, and such a mortality that of a thousand 
 above nine hundred and a half of them died, and 
 many of them did rot above ground for want of burial, 
 and the Dutchmen almost starved before they could 
 get away, for ice and snow. But about February 
 they got with much difficulty to their trading house ; 
 whom they kindly relieved, being almost spent with 
 hunger and cold. Being thus refreshed by them 
 divers days, they got to their own place, and the 
 Dutch were very thankful for this kindness. 
 
 This spring, also, those Indians that lived about 
 their trading house there fell sick of the smallpox, and 
 died most miserably ; for a sorer desease cannot be- 
 fall them ; they fear it more than the plague, for 
 usually they that have this disease have them in 
 abundance, and for want of bedding and linen and 
 other helps, they fall into a lamentable condition, as 
 they lie on their hard mats, the pox breaking and 
 mattering, and runing one into another, their skin 
 cleaving (by reason thereof) to the mats they lie 
 on ; when they turn them a whole side will flay off 
 at once, (as it were) and they will be all of a gore 
 blood, most fearful to behold ; and then being very 
 sore, what with cold and other distempers, they die 
 like rotten sheep. The condition of this people was 
 so lamentable, and they fell down so generally of 
 
SOME REMARKABLE PASSAGES. 59 
 
 this disease, as they were (in the end) not able to 
 help one another ; no, not to make a fire, nor to fetch 
 a little water to drink, nor any to bury the dead ; but 
 would strive as long as they could, and when they 
 could procure no other means to make fire, they 
 would burn the wooden trays and dishes they ate their 
 meat in, and their very bows and arrows, and some 
 would crawl out on all fours to get a little water, and 
 sometimes die by the way, and not be able to get in 
 again. But those of the English house (though at 
 first they were afraid of the infection) yet seeing 
 their woeful and sad condition, and hearing their 
 pitiful cries and lamentations, they had compassion of 
 them, and daily fetched them wood and water, and 
 made them fires, got them victuals whilst they lived, 
 and buried them when they died. For very few of 
 them escaped, notwithstanding they did what they 
 could for them, to the hazzard of themselves. The 
 chief Sachem himself now died, and almost all his 
 friends and kindred. But by the marvelous goodness 
 and providence of God not one of the English was 
 so much as sick, or in the least measure tainted 
 with this disease though they daily did these offices 
 for them for many weeks together. And this mercy 
 which they showed them was kindly taken, and thank- 
 fully acknowledged of all the Indians that knew or 
 heard of the same ; and their ministers here did 
 much commend and reward them for the same. 
 
60 WILLIAM BRADFORD. 
 
 CRIME AMONG THE SAINTS (1638). 
 
 [From the Same, Book II.] 
 
 This year Mr. Thomas Prence was chosen Gov- 
 ernor. Amongst other enormities that fell out amongst 
 them, this year three men were (after due trial) exe- 
 cuted for robbery and murder which they had com- 
 mitted ; their names were these, Arthur Peach, 
 Thomas Jackson, and Richard Stinnings ; there was 
 a fourth, Daniel Crose who was also guilty, but he 
 escaped away, and could not be found. This 
 Arthur Peach was the chief of them, and the ring 
 leader of all the rest. He was a lusty and a desper- 
 ate young man, and had been one of the soldiers in 
 the Pequente war, and had done as good service as 
 the most there, and one of the forwardest in any 
 attempt. And being now out of means, and loath to 
 work, and falling to idle courses and company, he 
 intended to go to the Dutch plantation ; and had 
 allured these three, being other men's servants and ap- 
 prentices, to go with him. But another cause there was 
 also of his secret going away in this manner ; he was 
 not only run into debt, but he had got a maid with 
 child, (which was not known till after his death) a 
 man's servant in the town, and fear of punishment 
 made him get away. The other three complotting 
 with him, ran away from their masters in the night, 
 and could not be heard of, for they went not the 
 ordinary way, but shaped such a course as they 
 thought to avoid the pursuit of any. But falling into 
 the way that lieth between the Bay of Massachusetts 
 
CRIME AMONG THE SAINTS. 6l 
 
 and the Naragansett, ana being disposed to rest them- 
 selves, struck fire, and took tobacco, a little out of 
 the way by the way side. At length there came a 
 Naragansett Indian by, who had been in the Bay 
 a trading, and had both cloth and beads about him. 
 (They had met him the day before and he was now 
 returning. ) Peach called him to drink tobacco with 
 them, and he came and sat down with them. Peach 
 told the other [s] he would kill him and take what he 
 had from him. But they were something afraid ; 
 but he said, Hang him, rogue, he had killed many 
 of them. So they let him alone to do as he would; 
 and when he saw his time he took a rapier and ran 
 him through the body once or twice, and took from 
 him five fathoms of wampum and three coats of cloth, 
 and went their way, leaving him for dead. But he 
 scrabled away, when they were gone, and made shift 
 to get home, (but died within a few days after) by 
 which means they were discovered ; and by subtlety 
 the Indians took them. For they desiring a canoe to 
 set them over a water, (not thinking their fact had 
 been known) by. the sachem's command they were 
 carried to Aquidnett Island and there accused of the 
 murder, and were examined and committed upon it 
 by the English there. The Indians sent for Mr. 
 Williams, and made a grievous complaint; his friends 
 and kindred were ready to rise in arms, and provoke the 
 rest thereunto, some conceiving they should now find 
 the Pequents' words true : that the English would fall 
 upon them. But Mr. Williams pacified them and 
 told them they should see justice done upon the 
 offenders: and went to the man and took Mr. James, 
 a physician, with him. The man told him who did it, 
 
62 WILLIAM BRADFORD. 
 
 and in what manner it was done; but the physician 
 found his wounds mortal, and that he could not live, 
 (as he after testified upon oath, before the jury in 
 open court) and so he died shortly after, as both Mr. 
 Williams, Mr. James, and some Indians testified in 
 court. The Government in the Bay were acquainted 
 with it, but referred it hither, because it was done in 
 this jurisdiction; l but pressed by all means that justice 
 might be done in it, or else the country must rise and 
 see justice done, otherwise it would raise a war. Yet 
 some of the rude and ignorant sort murmured that any 
 English should be pat to death for the Indians. So 
 at last they of the Island brought them hither, and 
 being often examined and the evidence produced, they 
 all in the end freely confessed in effect all that the 
 Indian accused them of, and that they had done it 
 in the manner aforesaid; and so upon the foremen- 
 tioned evidence, were cast by the jury, and con- 
 demned, and executed for the same. And some of 
 the Naragansett Indians and of the parties' friends, 
 were present when it was done, which gave them 
 and all the country good satisfaction. But it was a 
 matter of much sadness to them here, and was the 
 second execution which they had since they came ; 
 being both for wilful murder, as hath been before 
 related. Thus much of this matter. 
 
 1 And yet afterwards they laid claim to those parts in the con- 
 troversy about Seacunck. 
 
RELATION OR 
 
 Journall of the beginning and proceedings 
 
 of the English Plantation settled at Plimoth in New 
 
 England, by certaine English Aduenturers both 
 
 Merchants and others. 
 
 With their difficult passage, their safe arrival, their 
 
 ioyfull building of, and comfortable planting them- 
 
 selues in the now well defended Towne 
 
 of New Plimoth. 
 
 AS ALSO A RELATION OF FOVRE 
 
 seuerall discoueries since made by some of the 
 same English Planters there resident. 
 
 I. In a journey to Pvckanokick the habitation of the Ind- 
 ians greatest King Massasoyt : as also their message, the 
 answer and entertainment they had of him. 
 
 II. In a voyage made by ten of them to the Kingdome of 
 Nawset to seeke a boy that had lost himselfe in the woods : 
 with such accidents as befell them in that voyage. 
 
 III. In their journey to the Kingdome of Namaschet, in 
 defence of their greatest King Massasoyt, against the Narro- 
 higgonsets, and to reuenge the supposed death of their Inter- 
 preter Tisquantum. 
 
 II II. Their voyage to the Massachusets, and their enter- 
 tainment there. 
 
 With an answer to all such objections as are in any way 
 
 made against the lawfulnesse of English 
 
 plantations in those parts. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 Printed for Iohn Bellamie, and are to be sold at his shop at the 
 
 two Greyhounds in Cornhill neere the Royall Exchange. 1622. 
 
 63 
 
MOURT'S RELATION. 1 
 
 EBULLIENT YOUTH ON THE 
 -MAYFLOWER." 
 
 The fifth day [Dec. 5, 1620] we through God's 
 mercy escaped a great danger by the foolishness of a 
 boy, one of Francis Billington's sons, who in his fa- 
 ther's absence had got gunpowder and had shot off a 
 piece or two and made squibs, and there being a fowl- 
 ing piece charged in his father's cabin shot her off in 
 the cabin, there being a little barrel of powder half- 
 full scattered in and about the cabin, the fire being 
 within four foot of the bed between the decks, and 
 many flints and iron things about the cabin, and many 
 people about the fire, and yet, by God's mercy, no 
 harm done. 
 
 EXPLORING CAPE COD NEAR TRURO 
 • AND WELLFLEET. 
 
 Wednesday, the 6th of December, we set out, being 
 very cold and hard weather. We were a long while 
 after we launched from the ship before we could get 
 clear of a sandy point which lay within less than a 
 
 1 The title-page given on page 63 is not a complete facsimile, 
 but gives a good idea of the original. 
 
 65 
 
66 MOURT'S RELATION. 
 
 furlong of the same. In which time two were very 
 sick, and Edward Tilley had like to have sounded 
 [swooned] with cold ; the gunner was also sick unto 
 death, (but hope of tru[c]king made him to go) and 
 so remained all that day and the next night ; at length 
 we got clear of the sandy point and got up our sails, 
 and within an hour or two we got under the weather 
 shore, and then had smoother water and better sail- 
 ing, but it was very cold, for the water froze on our 
 clothes, and made them many times like coats of 
 iron. . . . 
 
 . . . We then directed our course along the sea 
 sands, to the place where we first saw the Indians ; 
 when we were there, we saw it was also a grampus 
 which they were cutting up ; they cut it into long 
 rands or pieces, about an ell long and two handful 
 broad ; we found here and there a piece scattered by 
 the way, as it seemed, for haste. This place the 
 most were minded we should call the Grampus Bay 
 because we found so many of them there. We fol- 
 lowed the tract of the Indians' bare feet a good way 
 on the sands. At length we saw where they struck 
 into the woods by the side of a pond. As we went 
 to view the place, one said he thought he saw an 
 Indian house among the trees, so went up to see. 
 ... So we lit on a path but saw no house and fol- 
 lowed a great way into the woods. At length we 
 found where corn had been set but not that year. 
 Anon we found a great burying place one part whereof 
 was encompassed with a great palisado like a church- 
 yard. . . . Those graves were more sumptuous 
 than those at Cornhill, yet we digged none of them 
 up, but only viewed them and went our way. 
 
THE LANDING AT PLYMOUTH. 67 
 
 THE LANDING AT PLYMOUTH. 
 
 That night we returned again ashipboard with 
 resolution the next morning to settle on some of those 
 places. So, in the morning, after we had called on 
 God for direction, we came to this resolution, to go 
 presently ashore again, and to take a better view of 
 two places which we thought most fitting for us ; for 
 we could not now take time for further search or con- 
 sideration, our victuals being much spent, especially our 
 beer, and it being now the 19th [new style 29th] 
 of December. After our landing and viewing of the 
 places so well as we could, we came to a conclusion 
 by most voices to set on the mainland, on the first 
 place, on an high ground where there is a great deal of 
 land cleared and hath been planted with corn three or 
 four years ago, and there is a very sweet brook runs 
 under the hillside and many delicate springs of as good 
 water as can be drunk, and where we may harbor our 
 shallops and boats exceeding well, and in this brook 
 much good fish in their season. On the further side 
 of the river also much cornground cleared. In one 
 field is a great hill [i.e. Burial Hill] on which we 
 point to make a platform and plant our ordnance 
 which will command all round about ; from thence we 
 may see into the bay and far into the sea, and we may 
 see thence Cape Cod. Our greatest labor will be 
 fetching of our wood, which is half a quarter of an 
 English mile, but there is enough so far off. What 
 people inhabit here we yet know not, for as yet we 
 have seen none. . . . 
 
 Monday, the 25th, being Christmas Day [new 
 style, Jan. 4th] we began to drink water aboard, but 
 
68 MOURT'S RELATION. 
 
 at night the master caused us to have some beer, and 
 so on board we had divers times now and then some 
 beer, but on shore none at all. . . . 
 
 Thursday the 28th of December [new style, Jan. 
 7th] ... in the afternoon we went to measure out 
 the ground, and first we took notice how many families 
 they were, willing all single men that had no wives 
 to join with some family as they thought fit, that so 
 we might build fewer houses ; which was done and 
 we reduced them to nineteen families. To greater 
 families we allotted larger plots ; to every person half a 
 pole in breadth and three in length, and so lots were 
 cast where every man should lie ; which was done and 
 staked out. We thought this proportion was large 
 enough at the first, for houses and gardens to impale 
 them round, considering the weakness of our people, 
 many of them growing ill with colds, for our former 
 discoveries in frost and storms and the wading at Cape 
 Cod had brought much weakness amongst us. . . . 
 
 ABORIGINAL AMENITIES. 
 
 Thursday the 22nd of March [new style April 
 1st]. . . . Samoset came again and Squanto, the 
 only native of Patuxat where we now inhabit, who 
 was one of the twenty captives that by Hunt were 
 carried away and had been in England and dwelt in 
 Cornhill with Master John Slanie, a merchant, and 
 could speak a little English, with three others ; and they 
 brought with them some few skins to truck and some 
 red herrings newly taken and dried but not salted, and 
 signified unto us that their great Sagamore, Massasoit, 
 was hard by with Quadequina, his brother, and all their 
 
ABORIGINAL AMENITIES. 69 
 
 men. They could not well express in English what 
 they would, but after an hour the King came to the 
 top of an hill over against us, and had in his train sixty 
 men, that we could well behold them and they us. 
 We were not willing to send our Governor to them 
 and they unwilling to come to us ; so Squanto went 
 again unto him, who brought word that we should 
 send one to parley with him, which we did, which 
 was Edward Winslow, to know his mind and to sig- 
 nify the mind and the will of our Governor, which 
 was to have trading and peace with them. We sent 
 to the King a pair of knives and a copper chain with 
 a jewel at it. To Quadequina we sent likewise a 
 knife and a jewel to hang in his ear, and withal a pot 
 of strong water, a good quantity of biscuit and some 
 butter, which were all willingly accepted. 
 
THOMAS MORTON. 
 
 Thomas Morton, one of the most interesting, 
 though hardly edifying, personages in New England 
 history, was born in England about 1575 and died 
 at Agamenticus, Maine, 1646. He was a lawyer of 
 Clifford's Inn, London, and thirty-seven years old, 
 when in 1622 he sought his fortune in New England, 
 with a party of emigrants, who, according to his own 
 account, " were very popular while their liquor lasted, 
 but were afterwards turned adrift." Many of them 
 found their way home, among them Morton ; but he 
 returned in 1625, as head of a body of emigrants 
 who settled at Merry Mount, now Braintree. These 
 settlers, like the former band with whom Morton was 
 associated, caused scandal to the Plymouth colonists. 
 They even set up a may-pole, and sang and danced 
 around it. They fraternized with the Indians more 
 than the other settlers did, and gave them guns that 
 they might hunt more effectively for them. Morton 
 was therefore arrested and sent to England, and the 
 name Merry Mount changed to Dagon. He re- 
 turned, was again arrested and transported, and then 
 published hr> satiric account of the Puritan Colonists, 
 The New English Canaan, by no means so lively 
 as the career of its author might lead the reader to 
 hope. This " scandalous book " caused his imprison- 
 ment for a year at Boston, on his fourth visit through 
 Massachusetts. On his release, he went to Maine, 
 70 
 
THE MAY-POLE REVELS. J I 
 
 where he soon after died. Hawthorne's story, 
 The May-pole of Merry Mount, has given a liter- 
 ary setting to the incident described in one of our 
 extracts, which should be read in connection with 
 Bradford's account of the same event. The best 
 edition of the New English Canaan was made by 
 Charles Francis Adams for the Prince Society in 1883. 
 
 THE MAY-POLE REVELS AT MERRY 
 MOUNT. 
 
 TFrom " New English Canaan" (Amsterdam, 
 1637), Book III. Chap. XIV.] 
 
 The inhabitants of Pasonagessit (having translated 
 the name o( their inhabitation from that ancient sav- 
 age name to Ma-re Mount; and being resolved to 
 have the new name confirmed for a memorial to after 
 ages) did devise amongst themselves to have it per- 
 formed in a solemn manner with revels and merriment 
 after the old English custom, prepared to set up a 
 May-pole upon the festival day of Philip and Jacob; 
 and therefore brewed a barrel of excellent beer, and 
 provided a case of bottles to be spent, with other good 
 cheer, for all comers of that day. And because they 
 would have it in a complete form, they had prepared 
 a song fitting to the time and present occasion. And 
 upon May-day they brought the May-pole to the 
 place appointed, with drums, guns, pistols, and other 
 fitting instruments, for that purpose; and there erected 
 it with the help of savages, that came thither of pur- 
 pose to see the manner of our revels. A goodly pine 
 
72 THOMAS MORTON. 
 
 tree of eighty foot long, was reared up, with a pair 
 of buck's horns nailed on, somewhat near unto the 
 top of it: where it stood as a fair sea-mark for direc- 
 tions how to find out the way to mine Host of Ma-re 
 Mount. . . . 
 
 The setting up of this May-pole was a lamentable 
 spectacle to the precise Separatists that lived at New 
 Plymouth. They termed it an idol; yea, they called 
 it the Calf of Horeb: and stood at defiance with the 
 place, naming it Mount Dagon; threatening to make 
 it a woful mount, and not a merry mount. . . . 
 
 There was likewise a merry song made, which (to 
 make their revels more fashionable) was sung with a 
 chorus, every man bearing his part; which they per- 
 formed in a dance, hand in hand about the May-pole, 
 whilst one of the company sung, and filled out the 
 good liquor like Gammedes and Jupiter. 
 
 THE SONG. 
 
 Drink and be merry, merry, merry, boys ; 
 Let all your delight be in Hymen's joys ; 
 Io to Hymen now the day is come, 
 About the merry May-pole take a room. 
 
 Make green garlons, bring bottles out; 
 
 And fill sweet Nectar, freely about. 
 
 Uncover thy head, and fear no harm, 
 
 For here's good liquor to keep it warm. 
 Then drink and be merry, etc. 
 Io to Hymen, etc. 
 
 Nectar is a thing assign' d, 
 
 By the Deity's own mind, 
 
 To cure the heart opprest with grief, 
 
 And of good liquors is the chief. 
 
 Then drink, etc. 
 
 Io to Hymen, etc. 
 
SHRIMP CAPTURES MINE HOST. 73 
 
 Give to the melancholy man 
 A cup or two of 't now and then ; 
 This physic will soon revive his blood, 
 And make him be of a merrier mood. 
 
 Then drink, etc. 
 
 Io to Hymen, etc. 
 
 Give to the nymph that's free from scorn, 
 No Irish stuff nor Scotch overworn. 
 Lasses in beaver coats, come away ; 
 Ye shall be welcome to us night and day 
 
 To drink and be merry, etc. 
 
 Io to Hymen, etc. 
 
 This harmless mirth made by young men (that lived 
 in hope to have wives brought over to them, that 
 would save them a labor to make a voyage to fetch 
 any over) was much distasted of the precise Separa- 
 tists that kept much ado, about the tithe of mint and 
 cumin, troubling their brains more than reason would 
 require about things that are indifferent : and from 
 that time sought occasion against my honest Host of 
 Ma-re Mount to overthrow his undertakings, and to 
 destroy his plantation quite and clean. 
 
 CAPTAIN SHRIMP (MYLES STANDISH) 
 CAPTURES MINE HOST (MORTON). 
 
 [From the Same, Book III. Chap. XV.] 
 
 Of a Great Monster supposed to be at Ma-re 
 Mount ; and the Preparation made to destroy 
 It. 
 
 The Separatists envying the prosperity and hope of 
 the plantation at Ma-re Mount (which they per- 
 ceived began to come forward, and to be in a good 
 
74 THOMAS MORTON. 
 
 way for gain in the beaver trade), conspired together 
 against mine Host especially, (who was the owner of 
 that plantation) and made up a party against him ; 
 and mustered up what aid they could ; accounting of 
 him as of a great monster. 
 
 Many threatening speeches were given out both 
 against his person, and his habitation, which they di- 
 vulged should be consumed with fire. And taking 
 advantage of the time when his company (which 
 seemed little to regard their threats) were gone up 
 into the inlands, to trade with the savages for beaver, 
 they set upon my honest Host at a place, called Wess- 
 aguscus, where (by accident) they found him. 
 The inhabitants there were in good hope of the sub- 
 version of the plantation at Ma-re Mount (which they 
 principally aimed at), and the rather, because mine 
 Host was a man that endeavored to advance the dig- 
 nity of the Church of England ; which they, on the 
 contrary part, would labor to vilify with uncivil terms, 
 inveighing against the sacred book of common prayer, 
 and mine Host that used it in a laudable manner 
 amongst his family, as a practice of piety. 
 
 There he would be a means to bring sacks to their 
 mill (such is the thirst after beaver), and helped the 
 conspirators to surprise mine Host (who was there all 
 alone) and they charged him (because they would seem 
 to have some reasonable cause against him to set a 
 gloss upon their malice) with criminal things, which 
 indeed had been done by such a person, but was of 
 their conspiracy. Mine Host demanded of the con- 
 spirators who it was, that was author of that informa- 
 tion, that seemed to be their ground for what they 
 now intended. And because they answered they 
 
SHRIMP CAPTURES MINE HOST. 75 
 
 would not tell him, he as peremptorily replied that 
 he would not say whether he had or he had not 
 done as they had been informed. 
 
 The answer made no matter (as it seemed) whether 
 it had been negatively, or affirmatively made., for they 
 had resolved what he should suffer, because (as they 
 boasted, ) they were now become the greater number : 
 they had shaken off their shackles of servitude, and 
 were become masters, and masterless people. 
 
 It appears, they were like bears' whelps in former 
 time, when mine Host's plantation was of as much 
 strength as theirs, but now (theirs being stronger,) 
 they (like overgrown bears) seemed monstrous. In 
 brief, mine Host must endure to be their prisoner until 
 they could contrive it so that they might send him 
 for England, (as they said,) there to suffer according 
 to the merit of the fact, which they intended to father 
 upon him ; supposing (belike) it would prove a heinous 
 crime. 
 
 Much rejoicing was made that they had gotten 
 their capital enemy (as they concluded him) whom 
 they purposed to hamper in such sort that he should 
 not be able to uphold his plantation at Ma-re Mount. 
 
 The conspirators sported themselves at my honest 
 Host, that meant them no hurt ; and were so jocund 
 that they feasted their bodies, and fell to tippling, as 
 if they had obtained a great prize ; like the Trojans 
 when they had the custody of Hippeus' pine-tree 
 horse. 
 
 Mine Host feigned grief, and could not be per- 
 suaded either to eat or drink, because he knew empti- 
 ness would be a means to make him as watchful as 
 the geese kept in the Roman capitol : whereon, the 
 
j6 THOMAS MORTON. 
 
 contrary part, the conspirators would be so drowsy, 
 that he might have an opportunity to give them a 
 slip, instead of a tester. Six persons of the con- 
 spiracy were set to watch him at Wessaguscus. But 
 he kept waking ; and in the dead of night (one 
 lying on the bed, for further surety,) up gets mine 
 Host and got to the second door that he was to pass, 
 which, notwithstanding the lock, he got open : and 
 shut it after him with such violence, that it affrighted 
 some of the conspirators. 
 
 The word, which was given with an alarm, was, 
 " Oh, he's gone, he's gone ! What shall we do? 
 He's gone !" The rest (half asleep) start up in a 
 maze, and like rams, ran their heads one at another 
 full butt in the dark. 
 
 Their grand leader, Captain Shrimp, took on most 
 furiously, and tore his clothes for anger, to see the 
 empty nest, and their bird gone. 
 
 The rest were eager to have torn their hair from 
 their heads, but it was so short that it would give 
 them no hold. Now Captain Shrimp thought in the 
 loss of this prize (which he accounted his master- 
 piece,) all his honor would be lost forever. 
 
 In the meantime mine Host was got home to Ma-re 
 Mount through the woods, eight miles, round about the 
 head of the river Monatoquit, that parted the two 
 plantations, rinding his way by the help of the light- 
 ning (for it thundered, as he went, terribly). And 
 there he prepared powder, three pounds dried, for his 
 present employment, and four good guns for him, and 
 the two assistants left at his house, with bullets of 
 several sizes, three hundred or thereabouts, to be 
 used if the conspirators should pursue him thither; 
 
SHRIMP CAPTURES MINE HOST. 77 
 
 and these two persons promised their aids in the 
 quarrel, and confirmed that promise with a health in 
 good rosa solis. 
 
 Now Captain Shrimp, the first captain in the land, 
 (as he supposed,) must do some new act to repair 
 this loss, and to vindicate his reputation, who had 
 sustained blemish, by this oversight. Begins now to 
 study how to repair or survive his honor in this man- 
 ner; calling of council: they conclude. 
 
 He takes eight persons more to him, and (like the 
 nine worthies of New Canaan) they embark with 
 preparation against Ma-re Mount, where this mon- 
 ster of a man, as their phrase was, had his den; the 
 whole number, had the rest not been from home, 
 being but seven, would have given Captain. Shrimp, 
 (a quondam drummer,) such a welcome, as would 
 have made him wish for a drum as big as Diogenes' 
 tub, that he might have crept into it out of sight. 
 
 Now the nine worthies are approached; and mine 
 Host prepared, having intelligence by a savage, that 
 hastened in love from Wessaguscus, to. give him 
 notice of their intent. 
 
 One of mine Host's men proved a craven; the 
 other had proved his wits to purchase a little valor, 
 before mine Host had observed his posture.. 
 
 The nine worthies coming before the den of this 
 supposed monster, (this seven-headed hydra, as they 
 termed him) and began, like Don Quixote against 
 the windmill, to beat a parley, and to offer quarter 
 if mine Host would yield ; for they resolved to send 
 him for England, and bade him lay by his arms. 
 
 But he (who was the son of a soldier), having 
 taken up arms in his just defence, replied that he 
 
78 THOMAS MORTON. 
 
 would not lay by those arms, because they were so 
 needful at sea, if he should be sent over. Yet to save 
 the effusion of so much worthy blood, as would have 
 issued out of the veins of these nine worthies of New 
 Canaan, if mine Host should have played upon them 
 out at his port-holes (for they came within danger 
 like a flock of wild geese, as if they had been tailed 
 one to another, as colts to be sold at a fair) mine 
 Host was content to yield upon a quarter; and did 
 capitulate with them in what manner it should be 
 for more certainty, because he knew what Captain 
 Shrimp was. 
 
 He expressed that no violence should be offered 
 to his person, none to his goods, nor any of his house- 
 hold: but that he should have his arms, and what else 
 was requisite for the voyage : which their herald re- 
 turns, it was agreed upon, and should be performed. 
 
 But mine Host no sooner had set open the door 
 and issued out, but instantly Captain Shrimp and the 
 rest of the worthies stepped to him, laid hold of his 
 arms and had him down; and so eagerly was every 
 man bent against him (not regarding any agreement 
 made with such a carnal man,) that they fell upon 
 him as if they would have eaten him. Some of them 
 were so violent that they would have a slice with 
 scabbard, and all for haste, until an old soldier (of the 
 Queen's, as the proverb is) that was there by acci- 
 dent, clapped his gun under the weapons, and sharply 
 rebuked these worthies for their unworthy practices. 
 So the matter was taken into more deliberate consid- 
 eration. 
 
 Captain Shrimp and the rest of the nine worthies 
 made themselves by this outrageous riot masters of 
 
MORTON'S FATE. 79 
 
 mine Host of Ma-re Mount, and disposed of what he 
 had at his plantation. 
 
 This they knew (in the eye of the savages) would 
 add to their glory; and diminish the reputation of 
 mine honest Host, whom they practised to be rid of, 
 upon any terms, as willingly as if it had been the 
 very hydra of time : l 
 
 MORTON'S FATE. 
 [From the Same, Book III., Chap. XVI.] 
 
 A conclusion was made and sentence given that 
 mine Host should be sent to England a prisoner. 
 But when he was brought to the ships for that pur- 
 pose, no man durst be so foolhardy as to undertake 
 carry him [an error of statement] . So these worthies 
 set mine Host upon an island, without gun, powder, 
 or shot or dog or so much as a knife to get any thing 
 to feed upon, or any other clothes to shelter him with 
 at winter than a thin suit which he had on at that 
 time. Hence he could not get to Ma-re Mount. 
 Upon this island he stayed a month at least, and was 
 relieved by savages that took notice that mine Host 
 was a Sachem of Passonagessit, and would bring bot- 
 tles of strong liquor to him, and unite themselves into 
 a league of brotherhood with mine Host ; so full of 
 humanity are these infidels before those Christians. 
 
 From this place for England sailed mine Host 
 in a Plymouth ship. . . . 
 
 1 The entire chapter is given in this selection. 
 
FRANCIS HIGGINSON. 
 
 Francis Higginson, the founder of that distinguished 
 New England family, was born in England in 1588, 
 and died in Salem, Massachusetts, in 1630. Like 
 most of the New England divines of his generation he 
 was a graduate of Cambridge University, and had been 
 an Anglican clergyman before his emigration. Becom- 
 ing a Puritan, he gave up his benefice, and sup- 
 ported himself by preparing men for college, till in 1628 
 he accepted an invitation from the Massachusetts Bay 
 Company, to join their colony. He reached Salem 
 in the next year, and was almost immediately chosen 
 teacher of the congregation there. The next year 
 he sickened and died, an ironical commentary on the 
 somewhat extravagant praise of the New England 
 climate, that appears in his New England's Planta- 
 tion, or a short and true description of the Commodities 
 of that Country, published in 1630, and reprinted 
 in the first volume of the Massachusetts Historical 
 Society's Collection. Our extracts are from this 
 work. Higginson wrote also an account of his voy- 
 age, afterwards printed in Hutchinson's Original 
 Papers (1769). A Life of Francis Higginson has 
 been written by his eminent descendant, Thomas 
 Went worth Higginson (1891). 
 80 
 
FIRST THEREFORE OF THE EARTH." 8 
 
 « FIRST THEREFORE OF THE EARTH 
 OF NEW ENGLAND, AND ALL THE 
 APPURTENANCES THEREOF." 
 
 [From " New England's Plantation," 1630.] 
 
 ... I will endeavor to show you what New 
 England is . . . and truly endeavor, by God's 
 help, to report nothing but the naked truth, and that 
 both to tell you of the discommodities as well as of 
 the commodities. Though, as the idle proverb is, 
 "Travelers may lie by authority," and so may take 
 too much sinful liberty that way, yet I may say of 
 myself, as once Nehemiah did in another case, " Shall 
 such a man as I lie ? " No. verily. It becometh 
 not a preacher of truth to be a writer of falsehood 
 in any degree ; and therefore I have been careful to 
 report nothing of New-England but what I have 
 partly seen with mine own eyes, and partly heard 
 and inquired from the mouths of very honest and 
 religious persons, who by living in the country a good 
 space of time have had experience and knowledge 
 of the state thereof, and whose testimonies I do 
 believe as myself. 
 
 The fertility of the soil is to be admired at, as 
 appeareth in the abundance of grass that groweth 
 every where, both very thick, very long, and very 
 high in divers places. But it groweth very wildly, 
 with a great stalk, and a broad and ranker blade, be- 
 cause it never had been eaten with cattle, nor mowed 
 with a scythe, and seldom trampled on by foot. It 
 is scarce to be believed how our kine and goats, horses 
 
82 FRANCIS HIGGINSON. 
 
 and hogs do thrive and prosper here, and like well of 
 this country. 
 
 In our Plantation we have already a quart of milk 
 for a penny. But the abundant increase of corn 
 proves this country to be a wonderment. Thirty, 
 forty, fifty, sixty, are ordinary here. Yea, Joseph's 
 increase in Egypt is outstripped here with us. Our 
 planters hope to have more than a hundred-fold this 
 year. And all this while I am within compass ; what 
 will you say of two hundred-fold, and upwards ? It 
 is almost incredible what great gain some of our Eng- 
 lish planters have had by our Indian corn. Credible 
 persons have assured me, and the party himself 
 avouched the truth of it to me, that of the setting of 
 thirteen gallons of corn he hath had increase of it fifty- 
 two hogsheads, every hogshead holding seven bushels of 
 London measure, and every bushel was by him sold and 
 trusted to the Indians for so much beaver as was worth 
 eighteen shillings ; and so of this thirteen gallons of corn, 
 which was worth six shillings eight pence, he made 
 about ^327 of it the year following, as by reckon- 
 ing will appear ; where you may see how God 
 blesseth husbandry in this land. There is not such 
 great and plentiful ears of corn I suppose anywhere 
 else to be found but in this country, being also of 
 variety of colors, as red, blue, and yellow, &c. ; and 
 of one corn there springeth four or five hundred. I 
 have sent you many ears of divers colors, that you 
 might see the truth of it. 
 
 Little children here, by setting of corn, may earn 
 much more than their own maintenance. 
 
 They have tried our English corn at New Plymouth 
 Plantation, so that all our several grains will grow 
 
"FIRST THEREFORE OF THE EARTH." 83 
 
 here very well, and have a fitting soil for their 
 nature. 
 
 Our Governor hath store of green pease growing 
 in his garden as good as ever I eat in England. 
 
 This country aboundeth naturally with store of 
 roots of great variety and good to eat. Our turnips, 
 parsnips and carrots are here both bigger and sweeter 
 than is ordinarily to be found in England. Here are 
 also store of pumpions, cowcumbers, and other things 
 of that nature which I know not. Also, divers 
 excellent pot-herbs grow abundantly among the grass, 
 as strawberry leaves in all places of the country, and 
 plenty of strawberries in their time, and penny-royal, 
 winter-savory, sorrel, brooklime, liverwort, carvel, 
 and watercresses ; also leeks and onions are ordinary, 
 and divers physical herbs. Here are also abundance 
 of other sweet herbs, delightful to the smell, whose 
 names we know not, and plenty of single damask 
 roses, very sweet ; and two kinds of herbs that bear 
 two kinds of flowers very sweet, which they say are 
 as good to make cordage or cloth as any hemp or flax 
 we have. 
 
 Excellent vines are here up and down in the woods. 
 Our Governor hath already planted a vineyard, with 
 great hope of increase. 
 
 Also, mulberries, plums, raspberries, currants, chest- 
 nuts, filberts, walnuts, small-nuts, hurtleberries, and 
 haws of white-thorn, near as good as our cherries in 
 England, they grow in plenty here. 
 
 For wood, there is no better in the world, I think, 
 here being four sorts of oak, differing both in the leaf, 
 timber, and color, all excellent good. There is also 
 good ash, elm, willow, birch, beech, sassafras, juniper, 
 
84 FRANCIS HIGGINSON. 
 
 cypress, cedar, spruce, pines and fir, that will yield 
 abundance of turpentine, pitch, tar, masts, and other 
 material for building both of ships and houses. Also 
 here are store of sumach trees, that are good for dye- 
 ing and tanning of leather ; likewise such trees yield a 
 precious gum, called white benjamin, that they say- 
 is excellent for perfumes. Also here be divers roots 
 and berries, wherewith the Indians dye excellent hold- 
 ing colors, that no rain nor washing can alter. Also 
 we have materials to make soap ashes and saltpetre 
 in abundance. 
 
 For beasts there are some bears, and they say some 
 lions also; for they have been seen at Cape Anne.' 
 Also here are several sorts of deer, some whereof bring 
 three or four young ones at once, which is not ordi- 
 nary in England ; also wolves, foxes, beavers, otters, 
 martens, great wild cats, and a great beast called a 
 molke, as big as an ox. I have seen the skins of all 
 these beasts since I came to this Plantation, excepting 
 lions. Also here are great store of squirrels, some 
 greater, and some smaller and lesser ; there are some 
 of the lesser sort, they tell me, that by a certain skin 
 will fly from tree to tree, though they stand far dis- 
 tant. 
 
 " Of the Waters of New England, with 
 the Things belonging to the Same." 
 
 sj^ ilc iti ik ik ik jic "J^ 
 
 The abundance of sea-fish are almost beyond 
 believing ; and sure I should scarce have believed it 
 except I had seen it with mine own eyes. I saw 
 great store of whales, and grampuses, and such abun- 
 
"OF THE AIR OF NEW ENGLAND.'' 85 
 
 dance of mackerels that it would astonish one to 
 behold ; likewise codfish, abundance on the coast, and 
 in their season are plentifully taken. There is a fish 
 called a bass, a most sweet and wholesome fish as 
 ever I did eat ; it is altogether as good as our fresh 
 salmon ; and the season of their coming was begun 
 when we came first to New-England in June, and so 
 continued about three months' space. Of this fish 
 our fishers take many hundreds together, which I have 
 seen lying on the shore, to my admiration. Yea, 
 their nets ordinarily take more than they are able to 
 haul to land, and for want of boats and men they are 
 constrained to let a many go after they have taken 
 them ; and yet sometimes they fill two boats at a time 
 with them. And besides bass, we take plenty of 
 scate and thornback, and abundance of lobsters, and 
 the least boy in the Plantation may both catch and 
 eat what he will of them. For my own part, I was 
 soon cloyed with them, they were so great, and fat, 
 and luscious. I have seen some myself that have 
 weighed sixteen pound ; but others have had divers 
 times so great lobsters as have weighed twenty-five 
 pound, as they assured me. . . . 
 
 11 Of the Air of New England, with the 
 Temper and Creatures in It." 
 
 The temper of the air of New-England is one 
 special thing that commends this place. Experience 
 doth manifest that there is hardly a more healthful 
 place to be found in the world that agreeth better with 
 our English bodies. Many that have been weak and 
 
86 FRANCIS HIGGINSON. 
 
 sickly in Old England, by coming hither have been 
 thoroughly healed, and grown healthful and strong. 
 For here is an extraordinary clear and dry air, that is 
 of a most healing nature to all such as are of a cold, 
 melancholy, phlegmatic, rheumatic temper of body. 
 None can more truly speak hereof by their own 
 experience than myself. My friends that knew me 
 can well tell how very sickly I have been, and con- 
 tinually in physic, being much troubled with a tor- 
 menting pain through an extraordinary weakness of my 
 stomach, and abundance of melancholic humors. 
 But since I came hither on this voyage, I thank God 
 I have had perfect health, and freed from pain and 
 vomiting, having a stomach to digest the hardest and 
 coarsest fare, who before could not eat finest meat ; 
 and whereas my stomach could only digest and did 
 require such drink as was both strong and stale, now 
 I can and do oftentimes drink New-England water 
 very well. And I that have not gone without a cap 
 for many years together, neither durst leave off the 
 same, have now cast away my cap, and do wear none 
 at all in the day time ; and whereas beforetime I 
 clothed myself with double clothes and thick waist- 
 coats to keep me warm, even in the summer time, I do 
 now go as thin clad as any, only wearing a light stuff 
 cassock upon my shirt, and stuff breeches of one thick- 
 ness without linings. Besides, I have one of my chil- 
 dren, that was formerly most lamentably handled with 
 sore breaking out of both his hands and feet of the 
 king's evil ; but since he came hither he is very well 
 ever he was, and there is hope of perfect recovery 
 shortly, even by the very wholesomeness of the air, 
 altering, digesting, and drying up the cold and crude 
 
DISCOMMODITIES. 87 
 
 humors of the body ; and therefore I think it is a 
 wise course for all cold complexions to come to take 
 physic in New-England ; for a sup of New-England's 
 air is better than a whole draught of Old England's 
 ale. 
 
 DISCOMMODITIES. 
 
 Thus of New England's Commodities. 
 
 Now I will tell you of some discommodities, that are 
 here to be found. 
 
 First, in the summer season, for these three months, 
 June, July, and August, we are troubled much with 
 little flies called mosquitoes, being the same they are 
 troubled with in Lincolnshire and the fens ; and they 
 are nothing but gnats, which, except they be smoked 
 out of their houses, are troublesome in the night sea- 
 son. 
 
 Secondly, in the winter season, for two months' 
 space, the earth is commonly covered with snow, 
 which is accompanied with sharp biting frosts, some- 
 thing more sharp than is in Old England, and there- 
 fore are forced to make great fires. 
 
 Thirdly, this country being very full of woods and 
 wildernesses, doth also much abound with snakes and 
 serpents, of strange colors and huge greatness. Yea, 
 there are some serpents, called rattlesnakes, that have 
 rattles in their tails, that will not fly from a man as 
 others will, but will fly upon him and sting him so 
 mortally that he will die within a quarter of an hour 
 after, except the party stinged have about him some of 
 the root of an herb called snake-weed to bite on, and 
 then he shall receive no harm. But yet seldom falls 
 
88 FRANCIS HIGGINSON. 
 
 it out that any hurt is done by these. About three 
 years since an Indian was stung to death by one of 
 them ; but we heard of none since that time. 
 
 Fourthly and lastly, here wants as yet the good com- 
 pany of honest Christians, to bring with them horses, 
 kine and sheep, to make use of this fruitful land. Great 
 pity it is to see so much good ground for corn and 
 for grass as any is under the heavens, to lie altogether 
 unoccupied, when so many honest men and their 
 families in Old England, through the populousness 
 thereof, do make very hard shift to live one by the 
 other. 
 
 " Of the Present Condition of the Planta- 
 tion AND WHAT IT IS." 
 
 There are in all of us, both old and new planters, 
 about three hundred, whereof two hundred of them 
 are settled at Nehumkek, now called Salem, and the 
 rest have planted themselves at Masathulet's Bay, be- 
 ginning to build a town there, which we do call 
 Cherton, or Charles town. 
 
 We that are settled at Salem make what haste we 
 can to build houses, so that within a short time we 
 shall have a fair town. 
 
 We have great ordnance wherewith we doubt not 
 but we shall fortify ourselves in a short time to keep 
 out a potent adversary. But that which is our greatest 
 comfort and means of defense above all others, is that 
 we have here the true religion and holy ordinances of 
 Almighty God taught amongst us. Thanks be to 
 God, we have here plenty of preaching, and diligent 
 
CONDITION OF THE PLANTATION. 89 
 
 catechising, with strict and careful exercise, and 
 good and commendable orders to bring our people 
 into a Christian conversation with whom we have to 
 do withal. And thus we doubt not but God will be 
 with us ; and if God be with us, who can be against 
 us ? 
 
 [The end of the tract.] 
 
JOHN WINTHROP. 
 
 John Winthrop, the most cultured and philosophic 
 of the early New England settlers, was born of wealthy 
 and scholarly ancestry, at Edwardston, England, in 
 1588, and died at Boston in 1649. He was edu- 
 cated at Cambridge, and proving himself exemplary 
 for grave and Christian deportment, was made a Jus- 
 tice of the Peace in the year that he reached his ma- 
 jority. Repeated domestic bereavements deepened his 
 naturally serious temperament, but he resisted an in- 
 clination to the ministry and gained some distinction 
 in law. In 161 8 he married his third wife, Mar- 
 garet, daughter of Sir John Tyndall, a knight, of Great 
 Maplestead in Essex, who shared for thirty years his 
 arduous and eventful life. Their letters sufficiently 
 attest the beautiful sympathy that characterized their 
 domestic life. Eleven years later he took part in the 
 formation of the Massachusetts Bay Company, and 
 the next year, 1630, sailed for America as Governor 
 of the Puritan colonists at Salem, Charlestown, and 
 Boston. He was the completest representative of the 
 Puritan spirit. With the exception of seven years, he 
 governed the colony till his death, and in the inter- 
 vals of administration he was always actively engaged 
 in public affairs. The colony owed much to his 
 wisdom and courage. Historians feel hardly less in- 
 debted to his History of New England from l6jO to 
 1649. It is unpretentious, simple, personal, not with- 
 90 
 
JOHN WINTHROP. 9 I 
 
 out credulity often, not without a touch of humor 
 sometimes, but its very homeliness adds to its effective- 
 ness. He seems to bring us nearer the heart of colo- 
 nial life, nearer the reality of the Puritan religion and 
 conscience, than does any contemporary writer. To 
 him it is a great providence when Mr. Glover's house 
 blew up, that the children had gone out to play 
 f* though it was a very cold day." It will be a 
 " providence," too, if ungodly men left upon an oyster 
 bank are drowned by a rising tide, though they might 
 have waded out had they known the way. This is 
 characteristic of an attitude of mind much bent on 
 justifying the ways of God to men, but when Win- 
 throp turns to larger horizons he is dignified, impartial, 
 and shows a philosophic grasp of affairs that could 
 come only from a noble and trained mind that was 
 capable of a high idealism. Politically he was a con- 
 servative. Universal suffrage and unlimited democ- 
 racy did not appeal to him. The best part of a 
 community, he wrote, was always the least, and of 
 that best part the wiser part was always the lesser. 
 
 The book from which most of our extracts are 
 taken had a curious history, which suggests the even 
 more remarkable fate of Bradford's History. It too 
 was in the library of Old South Church at the Revo- 
 lution. Two of its volumes were found after the peace 
 in the hands of the Connecticut Winthrops. Noah 
 Webster edited these in 1790. The third volume 
 lay undiscovered in the church until 1 8 1 6, and while 
 a new edition was being prepared, the second volume 
 was burned. Of this, therefore, we have only Web- 
 ster's carelessly executed edition. 
 
92 JOHN WINTHROP. 
 
 A PURITAN ELECTION. 
 
 [From Winthrop's " History of New England." J 
 
 [1637. May 17.] Our court of elections was 
 at Newtown. So soon as the court was set, being 
 about one of the clock, a petition was preferred by 
 those of Boston. The governor would have read it, 
 but the deputy said it was out of order ; it was a court 
 for elections, and those must first be despatched, and 
 then their petitions should be heard. Divers others 
 also opposed that course, as an ill precedent, etc. ; 
 and the petition, being about pretence of liberty, etc., 
 (though intended chiefly for revoking the sentence 
 given against Mr. Wheelwright,) would have spent all 
 the day in debate, etc. ; but yet the governor and 
 those of that party would not proceed to election, ex- 
 cept the petition was read. Much time was already 
 spent about this debate, and the people crying out 
 for election, it was moved by the deputy, that the 
 people should divide themselves, and the greater num- 
 ber must carry it. And so it was done, and the 
 greater number by many were for election. But the 
 governor and that side kept their place still, and would 
 not proceed. Whereupon the deputy told him, that, 
 if he would not go to election, he and the rest of 
 that side would proceed. Upon that, he came from 
 his company, and they went to election ; and Mr. 
 Winthrop was chosen governor, Mr. Dudley deputy, 
 and Mr. Endecott of the standing council ; and Mr. 
 Israel Stoughton and Mr. Richard Saltonstall were 
 called in to be assistants ; and Mr. Vane, Mr. Cod- 
 
A CRUEL SCHOOL-MASTER OF 1639. 93 
 
 dington, and Mr. Dummer, (being all of that faction,) 
 were left quite out. 
 
 There was great danger of a tumult that day .; for 
 those of that side grew into fierce speeches, and some 
 laid hands on others ; but seeing themselves too weak, 
 they grew quiet. They expected a great advantage 
 that day, because the remote towns were allowed to 
 come in by proxy ; but it fell out, that there were 
 enough beside. But if it had been otherwise, they 
 must have put in their deputies, as other towns had 
 done, for all matters beside elections. Boston, hav- 
 ing deferred to choose deputies till the election was 
 passed, went home that night, and the next morning 
 they sent Mr. Vane, the late governor, and Mr. 
 Coddington, and Mr. Hoffe, for their deputies ; but 
 the court, being grieved at it, found a means to send 
 them home again, for that two of the freemen of Bos- 
 ton had no notice of the election. So they went all 
 home, and the next morning they returned the same 
 gentlemen again upon a new choice ; and the court 
 not finding how they might reject them, they were 
 admitted. . . . 
 
 A CRUEL SCHOOL-MASTER OF 1639. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 At the general court at Boston, one Mr. Nathaniel 
 Eaton, brother to the merchant at Quilipiack, was 
 convented and censured. The occasion was this: 
 He was a school-master, and had many scholars, the 
 sons of gentlemen and others of best note in the coun- 
 
94 JOHN WINTHROP. 
 
 try, and had entertained one Nathaniel Briscoe, a 
 gentleman born, to be his usher, and to do some 
 other things for him, which might not be unfit for a 
 scholar. He had not been with him above three 
 days but he fell out with him for a very small occasion, 
 and, with reproachful terms, discharged him, and 
 turned him out of his doors; but, it being then about 
 eight of the clock after the Sabbath, he told him he 
 should stay till next morning, and, some words grow- 
 ing between them, he struck him and pulled him into 
 his house. Briscoe defended himself, and closed with 
 him, and, being parted, he came in and went up to 
 his chamber to lodge there. Mr. Eaton sent for the 
 constable, who advised him first to admonish him, 
 etc., and if he could not, by the power of a master, 
 reform him, then he should complain to the magis- 
 trate. But he caused his man to fetch him a cudgel, 
 which was a walnut tree plant, big enough to have 
 killed a horse, and a yard in length, and, taking his 
 two men with him, he went up to Briscoe, and 
 caused his men to hold him till he had given him two 
 hundred stripes about the head and shoulders, etc., 
 and so kept him under blows (with some two or 
 three short intermissions) about the space of two 
 hours, about which time Mr. Shepherd and some 
 others of the town came in at the outcry, and so he 
 gave over. In this distress Briscoe gate out his 
 knife, and struck at the man that held him, but hurt 
 him not. He also fell to prayer (supposing he should 
 have been murdered), and then Mr. Eaton, beat him 
 for taking the name of God in vain. 
 
 After this Mr. Eaton and Mr. Shepherd (who 
 knew not then of these passages) came to the gov- 
 
A CRUEL SCHOOL-MASTER OF 1639. 95 
 
 ernor and some other of the magistrates, complaining 
 of Briscoe for his insolent speeches, and for crying 
 out murder and drawing his knife, and desired that 
 he might be enjoined to a public acknowledgment, 
 etc. The magistrates answered, that they must first 
 hear him speak, and then they would do as they 
 should see cause. 
 
 Mr. Eaton was displeased at this, and went away 
 discontented, etc., and, being after called into the 
 court to make answer to the information, which had 
 been given by some who knew the truth of the case, 
 and also to answer for his neglect and cruelty, and 
 other ill usage towards his scholars, one of the elders 
 (not suspecting such miscarriages by him) came to 
 the governor, and showed himself much grieved, that 
 he should be publicly produced, alleging, that it 
 would derogate from his authority and reverence 
 among his scholars, etc. But the cause went on not- 
 withstanding, and he was called, and these things 
 laid to his charge in the open court. His answers 
 were full of pride and disdain, telling the magistrates, 
 that they should not need to do any thing herein, for 
 he was intended to leave his employment. And 
 being asked, why he used such cruelty to Briscoe his 
 usher, and to other his scholars (for it was testified 
 by another of his ushers and divers of his scholars, 
 that he would give them between twenty and thirty 
 stripes at a time, and would not leave till they had 
 confessed what he required), his answer was, that he 
 had this rule, that he would not give over correcting till 
 he had subdued the party to his will. 
 
 Being also questioned about the ill and scant diet 
 of his boarders (for, though their friends gave large 
 
96 JOHN WINTHROP. 
 
 allowance, yet their diet was ordinarily nothing but 
 porridge and pudding, and that very homely), he put 
 it off to his wife. So the court dismissed him at 
 present, and commanded him to attend again the next 
 day, when, being called, he was commanded to the 
 lower end of the table (where all offenders do usually 
 stand), and, being openly convict of all the former 
 offences, by the oaths of four or five witnesses, he yet 
 continued to justify himself; so, it being near night, 
 he was committed to the marshal till the next day. 
 When the court was set in the morning, many of the 
 elders came into the court (it being then private for 
 matter of consultation,) and declared how, the evening 
 before, they had taken pains with him, to convince 
 him of his faults; yet, for divers hours, he had still 
 stood to his justification; but, in the end, he was con- 
 vinced, and had freely and fully acknowledged his sin, 
 and that with tears; so as they did hope he had truly 
 repented, and therefore desired of the court that he 
 might be pardoned, and continued in his employment, 
 alleging such further reasons as they thought fit. 
 
 After the elders were departed, the court consulted 
 about it, and sent for him, and there, in the open 
 court, before a great assembly, he made a very solid, 
 wise, eloquent, and serious (seeming) confession, con- 
 demning himself in all the particulars, etc. Where- 
 upon, being put aside, the court consulted privately 
 about his sentence, and, though many were taken 
 with his confession, and none but had a charitable 
 opinion of it; yet, because of the scandal of religion, 
 and offence which would be given to such as might 
 intend to send their children hither, they all agreed to 
 censure him, and put him from that employment. 
 
A CRUEL SCHOOL-MASTER OF 1639. 97 
 
 So, being called in, the governor, after a short pref- 
 ace, etc., declared the sentence of the court to this 
 effect, viz., that he should give Briscoe ^30, be 
 fined 100 marks, and debarred teaching of children 
 within our jurisdiction. A pause being made, and 
 expectation that (according to his former confession) 
 he would have given glory to God, and acknowl- 
 eged the justice and clemency of the court, the gov- 
 ernor giving him occasion, by asking him if he had 
 aught to say, he turned away with a discontented 
 look, saying, " If sentence be passed, then it is to no 
 end to speak." Yet the court remitted his fine to 
 ^20, and willed Briscoe to take but ^20. 
 
 The church at Cambridge, taking notice of these 
 proceedings, intended to deal with him. The pastor 
 moved the governor, if they might, without offence 
 to the court, examine other witnesses. His answer 
 was, that the court would leave them to their own 
 liberty; but he saw not to what end they should do 
 it, seeing there had been five already upon oath, and 
 those whom they should examine should speak with- 
 out oath, and it was an ordinance of God, that by 
 the mouths of two or three witnesses every matter 
 should be established. But he soon discovered him- 
 self; for, ere the church could come to deal with 
 him, he fled to Pascataquack, and, being pursued and 
 apprehended by the governor there, he again acknowl- 
 edged his great sin in flying, etc., and promised (as 
 he was a Christian man) he would return with the 
 messengers. But, because his things he carried with 
 him were aboard a bark there, bound to Virginia, he 
 desired leave to go fetch them, which they assented 
 unto, and went with him (three of them) aboard 
 
98 JOHN WINTHROP. 
 
 with him. So he took his truss and came away with 
 them in the boat; but, being come to the shore, and 
 two of them going out of the boat, he caused the 
 boatmen to put off the boat, and because the third 
 man would not go out, he turned him into the water, 
 where he had been drowned, if he had not saved him- 
 self by swimming. So he returned to the bark, and 
 presently they set sail and went out of the harbor. 
 
 Being thus gone, his creditors began to complain ; 
 and thereupon it was found, that he was run in debt 
 about ^iooo, and had taken up most of this money 
 upon bills he had charged into England upon his 
 brother's agents, and others whom he had no such 
 relation to. So his estate was seized, and put into 
 commissioners' hands, to be divided among his cred- 
 itors, allowing somewhat for the present maintenance 
 of his wife and children. And, being thus gone, the 
 church proceeded and cast him out. He had been 
 sometimes initiated among the Jesuits, and, coming 
 into England, his friends drew him from them, but, 
 it was very probable, he now intended to return to 
 them again, being at this time about thirty years of 
 age, and upwards. 
 
 1640.] Mr. Nathaniel Eaton, of whom mention 
 is made before, being come to Virginia, took upon 
 him to be a minister, but was given up of God to 
 extreme pride and sensuality, being usually drunken, 
 as the custom is there. He sent for his wife and 
 children. Her friends here persuaded her to stay 
 awhile, but she went notwithstanding, and the vessel 
 was never heard of after. 
 
ITEMS FROM WINTHROP'S HISTORY. 99 
 
 ITEMS FROM WINTHROP'S HISTORY. 
 
 1 63 1. June 14.] At this court one Philip Ratcliff, 
 a servant of Mr. Cradock, being convict, ore tenus, of 
 most foul, scandalous invectives against our churches 
 and government, was censured to be whipped, lose 
 his ears, and be banished from the plantation, which 
 was presently executed. 
 
 1632.] At Watertown there was (in the view of 
 divers witnesses) a great combat between a mouse 
 and a snake ; and after a long fight, the mouse pre- 
 vailed and killed the snake. The pastor of Boston, 
 Mr. Wilson, a very sincere, holy man, hearing of 
 it, gave this interpretation : That the snake was the 
 devil ; the mouse was a poor contemptible people, 
 which God had brought hither, which should over- 
 come Satan here, and dispossess him of his Kingdom. 
 
 1633.] Two little girls of the governor's family 
 were sitting under a great heap of logs, plucking of 
 birds, and the wind driving the feathers into the 
 house, the governor's wife caused them to remove 
 away. They were no sooner gone, but the whole 
 heap of logs fell down in the place, and had crushed 
 them to death, if the Lord, in his special providence, 
 had not delivered them. 
 
 Aug. 6.] Two men servants to one Moody e, of 
 Roxbury, returning in a boat from the windmill, 
 struck upon the oyster bank. They went out to 
 gather oysters, and not making fast their boat, when 
 the flood came, it floated away, and they were both 
 drowned, although they might have waded out on 
 either side ; but it was an evident judgment of God 
 upon them, for they were wicked persons. . . . 
 
100 JOHN WINTHROP. 
 
 1634.] One Abigail Gifford, widow, being kept 
 at the charge of the parish of Wilsden in Middlesex, 
 near London, was sent by Mr. Bull's ship into this 
 country, and being found to be sometimes distracted, 
 and a very burdensome woman, the governor and 
 assistants returned her back by warrant, 18, to the 
 same parish, in the ship Rebecca. 
 
 1639.] There happened a memorable thing at 
 Plymouth about this time. One Keysar, of Lynn, 
 being at Plymouth in his boat, and one Dickerson 
 with him, a professor, but a notorious thief, was com- 
 ing out of the harbor with the ebb, and the wind 
 southerly, a fresh gale ; yet, with all their skill and 
 labor, they could not in three hours, get the boat 
 above one league, so as they were forced to come 
 to an anchor, and, at the flood, to go back to the 
 town, and, as soon as they were come in, the said 
 Dickerson was arrested upon suspicion of a gold ring 
 and some other pieces of gold, which, upon search, 
 were found about him, and he was then whipped for 
 it, . . . These and many other examples of discov- 
 ering hypocrites and other lewd persons, and bring- 
 ing them under their deserved punishments, do (among 
 other things) show the presence of power of God in 
 his ordinances, and his blessing upon his people while 
 they endeavor to walk before him with uprightness. 
 
 1640.] At the court of assistants, one Hugh 
 Bewett was banished for holding publicly and main- 
 taining that he was free from original sin and from 
 actual also for half a year before, and that all true 
 christians after . . . are enabled to live without com- 
 mitting actual sin. 
 
 1640.] About this time there fell out a thing 
 
ITEMS FROM WINTHROP'S HISTORY. 1 01 
 
 worthy of observation. Mr. Winthrop the younger, 
 one of the magistrates, having many books in a cham- 
 ber where there was corn of divers sorts, had among 
 them one wherein the Greek Testament, the Psalms, 
 and the Common Prayer were bound together. He 
 found the Common Prayer eaten with mice, every 
 leaf of it, and not any of the two other touched, nor 
 any other of his books, though there were above a 
 thousand. 
 
 1 64 1.] A young man, a tanner in Boston, going 
 to wash himself in a creek, said, jestingly, I will go 
 and drown myself now, which fell out accordingly ; 
 for by the slipperiness of the earth, he was carried 
 beyond his depth, and having no skill to swim, was 
 drowned, though company were at hand, and one 
 in the water with him. 
 
 1 642.] Nine bachelors commenced at Cambridge ; 
 they were young men of good hope, and performed 
 their acts, so as gave good proof of their proficiency 
 in the tongues and arts. The General Court had 
 settled a government or superintendency over the 
 college, viz. all the magistrates and elders over the 
 six nearest churches and the president, or the greatest 
 part of these. Most of them were now present at 
 this first commencement, and dined at the college 
 with the scholars' ordinary commons, which was 
 done of purpose for the students' encouragement, 
 etc., and it gave good content to all. 
 
 1645.] Mr. Hopkins, the governor of Hartford 
 upon Connecticut, came to Boston, and brought his 
 wife with him (a godly young woman, and of special 
 parts), who was fallen into a sad infirmity, the loss 
 of her understanding and reason, which had been 
 
102 JOHN WINTHROP. 
 
 growing upon her divers years, by occasion of her 
 giving herself wholly to reading and writing, and had 
 written many books. Her husband, being very lov- 
 ing and tender of her, was loath to grieve her ; but 
 he saw his error, when it was too late. For if she 
 had attended her household affairs, and such things as 
 belong to women, and not gone out of her way and 
 calling to meddle in such things as are proper for men, 
 whose minds are stronger, etc., she had kept her 
 wits, and might have improved them usefully and hon- 
 orably in the place God had set her. He brought 
 her to Boston, and left her with her brother, one Mr. 
 Yale, a merchant, to try what means might be had here 
 for her. But no help could be had. 
 
 1645.] At Ipswich there was a calf brought forth 
 with one head and three mouths, three noses, and 
 six eyes. What these prodigies portended the Lord 
 only knows, which in his due time he will manifest. 
 
 1646.] Mention was made before of some 
 beginning to instruct the Indians, etc. Mr. John 
 Eliot, teacher of the church of Roxbury, found such 
 encouragement, as he took great pains to get their lan- 
 guage, and in a few months could speak of the things 
 of God to their understanding ; and God prospered 
 his endeavors, so as he kept a constant lecture to them 
 in two places, one week at the wigwam of one Wabon, 
 a new sachem near Watertown mill, and the other 
 the next week in the wigwam of Cutshamekin near 
 Dorchester mill. And for the furtherance of the 
 work of God, divers of the English resorted to his 
 lecture, and the governor and other of the magistrates 
 and elders sometimes ; and the Indians began to repair 
 thither from other parts. 
 
ITEMS FROM WINTHROP'S HISTORY. 103 
 
 His manner of proceeding was thus : he would 
 persuade one of the other elders or some magistrate 
 to begin the exercise with prayer in English ; then he 
 took a text, and read it first in the Indian language, 
 and after in English ; then he preached to them in 
 Indian about an hour (but first I should have spoke 
 of the catechising their children, who were soon 
 brought to answer him some short questions, where- 
 upon he gave each of them an apple or a cake) ; then 
 he demanded of some of the chiefs, if they under- 
 stood him ; if they answered, yea, then he asked of 
 them if they had any questions to propound. And 
 they had usually two or three or more questions, 
 which he did resolve. 
 
 At one time (when the governor was there and 
 about two hundred people, Indian and English, in one 
 wigwam of Cutshamekin's) an old man asked him, if 
 God would receive such an old man as he was ; to 
 whom he answered by opening the parable of the 
 workmen that were hired into the vineyard ; and 
 when he had opened it, he asked the old man, if he 
 did believe it, who answered he did, and was ready 
 to weep. . . . 
 
 The Indians were usually very attentive, and kept 
 their children so quiet as caused no disturbance. Some 
 of them began to be seriously affected, and to under- 
 stand the things of God, and they were generally 
 ready to reform whatsoever they were told to be against 
 the word of God, as their sorcery (which they call 
 powwowing), their whoredoms, etc., idleness, etc. 
 The Indians grew very inquisitive after knowledge 
 both in things divine and also human, so as one of 
 them, meeting with an honest plain Englishman, 
 
104 JOHN WINTHROP. 
 
 would needs know of him, what were the first begin- 
 nings (which we call principles) of a commonwealth. 
 The Englishman, being far short in the knowledge of 
 such matters, yet ashamed that an Indian should find 
 an Englishman ignorant of any thing, bethought him- 
 self what answer to give him, at last resolved upon 
 this, viz., that the first principle of a commonwealth 
 was salt, for (saith he) by means of salt we can keep 
 our flesh and fish, to have it ready when we need it, 
 whereas you lose much for want of it, and are some- 
 times ready to starve. A second principle is iron, 
 for thereby we fell trees, build houses, till our land, 
 etc. A third is, ships, by which we carry forth such 
 commodities as we have to spare, and fetch in such 
 as we need, as cloth, wine, etc. Alas ! (saith the 
 Indian) then I fear, we shall never be a common- 
 wealth, for we can neither make salt, nor iron, nor 
 ships. 
 
 1648.] . . . God will be sanctified in them that 
 come near him. Two others were the children of one 
 of the church of Boston. While their parents were 
 at the lecture, the boy (being about seven years of age), 
 having a small staff in his hand, ran down upon the ice 
 towards a boat he saw, and the ice breaking, he fell 
 in, but his staff kept him up, till his sister, about fourteen 
 years old, ran down to save her brother (though there 
 were four men at hand, and called to her not to go, 
 being themselves hasting to save him) and so drowned 
 herself and him also, being past recovery ere the men 
 could come at them, and could easily reach ground 
 with their feet. The parents had no more sons, and 
 confessed they had been too indulgent towards him, 
 and had set their hearts overmuch upon him. 
 
ITEMS FROM WINTHROP'S HISTORY. 105 
 
 This puts me in mind of another child very strangely 
 drowned a little before winter. The parents were 
 also members of the church of Boston. The father 
 had undertaken to maintain the mill-dam, and being 
 at work upon it (with some help he had hired), in the 
 afternoon of the last day of the week, night came 
 upon them before they had finished what they intended, 
 and his conscience began to put him in mind of the 
 Lord's day, and he was troubled, yet went on and 
 wrought an hour within night. The next day, after 
 evening exercise, and after they had supped, the 
 mother put two children to bed in the room where 
 themselves did lie, and they went out to visit a neigh- 
 bor. When they returned, they continued about an 
 hour in the room, and missed not the child, but then 
 the mother going to the bed, and not finding her 
 youngest child (a daughter about five years of age), 
 after much search she found it drowned in a well in 
 her cellar ; which was very observable, as by a special 
 hand of God, that the child should go out of that 
 room into another in the dark, and then fall down at 
 a trap-door, or go down the stairs, and so into the 
 well in the farther end of the cellar, the top of the 
 well and the water being even with the ground. But 
 the father, freely in the open congregation, did 
 acknowledge it the righteous hand of God for his pro- 
 faning his holy day against the checks of his own 
 conscience. 
 
106 JOHN WINTHROP. 
 
 WINTHROP ON LIBERTY. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 1645.] The court of elections was held at Bos- 
 ton. Mr. Thomas Dudley was chosen governor, Mr. 
 Winthrop, deputy governor again, and Mr. Endecott, 
 Serjeant major general. Mr. Israel Stoughton, hav- 
 ing been in England the year before, and now gone 
 again about his private occasions, was by vote left out, 
 and Herbert Pelham, Esquire, chosen an assistant. 
 
 This court fell out a troublesome business, which 
 took up much time. The town of Hingham, having 
 one Ernes their lieutenant seven or eight years, had 
 lately chosen him to be their captain, and had pre- 
 sented him to the standing council for allowance ; but, 
 before it was accomplished, the greater part of the 
 town took some light occasion of offence against him, 
 and chose one Allen to be their captain, and presented 
 him to the magistrates (in the time of the last general 
 court) to be allowed. But the magistrates, consider- 
 ing the injury that would hereby accrue to Ernes (who 
 had been their chief commander so many years, and 
 had deserved well in his place, and that Allen had no 
 other skill but what he learned from Ernes), refused 
 to allow of Allen, but willed both sides to return 
 home, and every officer to keep his place until the 
 court should take further order. Upon their return 
 home, the messengers, who came for Allen, called a 
 private meeting of those of their own party, and told 
 them truly what answer they received from the magis- 
 trates, and soon after they appointed a training day 
 
WINTHROP ON LIBERTY. 
 
 IO7 
 
 (without their lieutenant's knowledge), and, being 
 assembled, the lieutenant hearing of it came to them, 
 and would have exercised them, as he was wont to 
 do, but those of the other party refused to follow him, 
 except he would show them some order for it. He 
 told them of the magistrates' order about it ; the oth- 
 ers replied that authority had advised him to go home 
 and lay down his place honorably. Another asked 
 what the magistrates had to do with them. Another, 
 that it was but three or four of the magistrates, and, 
 if they had been all there, it had been nothing, for 
 Mr. Allen had brought more for them from the depu- 
 ties than the lieutenant had from the magistrates. 
 Another of them professeth he will die at the sword's 
 point if he might not have the choice of his own offi- 
 cers. Another (viz., the clerk of the band) stands 
 up above the people, and requires them to vote whether 
 they would bear them out in what was past and what 
 was to come. This being assented unto, and the tu- 
 mult continuing, one of the officers (he who had told 
 them that authority had advised the lieutenant to go 
 home and lay down his place) required Allen to take 
 the captain's place ; but, he not then accepting it, 
 they put it to the vote whether he should be their 
 captain. The vote passing for it, he then told the 
 company it was now past question ; and thereupon 
 Allen accepted it, and exercised the company two or 
 three days, only about a third part of them followed 
 the lieutenant. He, having denied in the open field 
 that authority had advised him to lay down his place, 
 and putting (in some sort) the lie upon those who 
 had so reported, was the next Lord's day called to 
 answer it before the church ; and, he standing to main- 
 
I08 JOHN WINTHROR 
 
 tain what he had said, five witnesses were produced 
 to convince him. Some of them affirmed the words, 
 the others explained their meaning to be that one mag- 
 istrate had so advised him. He denied both. Where- 
 upon the pastor, one Mr. Hubbert (brother to three of 
 the principal in this sedition), was very forward to have 
 excommunicated the lieutenant presently ; but, upon 
 some opposition, it was put off to the next day. 
 Thereupon the lieutenant and some three or four 
 more of the chief men of the town inform four of the 
 next magistrates of these proceedings, who forthwith 
 met at Boston about it (viz., the deputy governor, the 
 serjeant major general, the secretary, and Mr. Hib- 
 bins). These, considering the case, sent warrant to 
 the constable to attach some of the principal offender;, 
 (viz. , three of the Hubbards and two more) to appear 
 before them at Boston, to find sureties for their appear • 
 ance at the next court, etc. Upon the day they came 
 to Boston ; but their said brother the minister came 
 before them, and fell to expostulate with the said mag- 
 istrates about the said cause, complaining against the 
 complainants, as talebearers, etc., taking it very dis- 
 dainfully that his brethren should be sent for by a 
 constable, with other high speeches, which were so 
 provoking, as some of the magistrates told him, that, 
 were it not for respect to his ministry, they would 
 commit him. When his brethren and the rest were 
 come in, the matters of the information were laid to 
 their charge, which they denied for the most part. 
 So they were bound over (each for other) to the next 
 court of assistants. After this five others were sent for 
 by summons (these were only for speaking untruths of 
 the magistrates in the church). They came before 
 
WINTHROP ON LIBERTY. 
 
 109 
 
 the deputy governor, when he was alone, and de- 
 manded the cause of their sending for, and to know 
 their accusers. The deputy told them so much of the 
 cause as he could remember, and referred them to the 
 secretary for a copy, and for their accusers he told 
 them they knew both the men and the matter, neither 
 was a judge bound to let a criminal offender know his 
 accusers before the day of trial, but only in his own 
 discretion, least the accuser might be taken off or per- 
 verted, etc. Being required to give bond for their 
 appearance, etc., they refused. The deputy labored 
 to let them see their error, and gave them time to 
 consider of it. About fourteen days after, seeing two 
 of them in the court (which was kept by those four 
 magistrates for smaller causes), the deputy required 
 them again to enter bond for their appearance, etc., 
 and upon their second refusal committed them in that 
 open court. 
 
 The general court falling out before the court of 
 assistants, the Hubberts and the two which were 
 committed, and others of Hingham, about ninety 
 (whereof Mr. Hubbert their minister was the first), 
 presented a petition to the general court. . . . 
 
 The day appointed being come, the court assem- 
 bled in the meeting house at Boston. Divers of the 
 elders were present, and a great assembly of people. 
 The deputy governor, coming in with the rest of the 
 magistrates, placed himself beneath within the bar, and 
 so sat uncovered. Some question was in the court 
 about his being in that place (for many both of the 
 court and the assembly were grieved at it). But the 
 deputy telling them that, being criminally accused, he 
 might not sit as a judge in that cause, and, if he were 
 
110 JOHN WINTHROP. 
 
 upon the bench, it would be a great disadvantage to 
 him, for he could not take that liberty to plead the 
 cause, which he ought to be allowed at the bar, upon 
 this the court was satisfied. 
 
 The petitioners having declared their grievances, 
 etc., the deputy craved leave to make answer. . . . 
 
 Hereupon the court proceeded to examine the 
 whole cause. The deputy justified all the particulars 
 laid to his charge, as that upon credible information 
 of such a mutinous practice, and open disturbance of 
 the peace, and slighting of authority, the offenders 
 were sent for, the principal by warrant to the con- 
 stable to bring them, and others by summons, and 
 that some were bound over to the next court of 
 assistants, and others that refused to be bound were 
 committed; and all this according to the equity of 
 laws here established, and the custom and laws of 
 England, and our constant practice here these fifteen 
 years. And for some speeches he was charged with 
 as spoken to the delinquents, when they came before 
 him at his house, when none were present with him 
 but themselves, first he appealed to the judgment of 
 the court, whether delinquents may be received as 
 competent witnesses against a magistrate in such a 
 case; then, for the words themselves, some he justi- 
 fied, some he explained so as no advantage could be 
 taken of them, as that he should say that the magis- 
 trates could try some criminal causes without a jury, 
 that he knew no law of God or man which required 
 a judge to make known to the party his accusers (or 
 rather witnesses) before the cause came to hearing. 
 But two of them charged him to have said that it was 
 against the law of God and man so n d"), which had 
 
WINTHROP ON LIBERTY. I I I 
 
 been absurd ; for the deputy professed he knew no 
 law against it, only a judge may sometimes, in dis- 
 cretion, conceal their names, etc., least they should 
 be tampered with or conveyed out of the way, etc. 
 
 Two of the magistrates and many of the deputies 
 were of opinion that the magistrates exercised too 
 much power, and that the people's liberty was thereby 
 in danger; and other of the deputies (being about 
 half) and all the rest of the magistrates were of a 
 different judgment, and that authority was overmuch 
 slighted, which, if not timely remedied, would en- 
 danger the commonwealth, and bring us to a mere 
 democracy. By occasion of this difference, there 
 was not so orderly carriage at the hearing as was meet, 
 each side striving unseasonaEly to enforce the evi- 
 dence, and declaring their judgments thereupon, which 
 should have been reserved to a more private debate 
 (as after it was), so as the best part of two days was 
 spent in this public agitation and examination of wit- 
 nesses, etc. This being ended, a committee was 
 chosen of magistrates and deputies who stated the 
 case, as it appeared upon the whole pleading and evi- 
 dence, though it cost much time, and with great dif- 
 ficulty did the committee come to accord upon it. . . . 
 
 The deputies finding themselves now at the wall, 
 and not daring to trust the elders with the cause, they 
 sent to desire that six of themselves might come and 
 confer with the magistrates, which being granted, they 
 came, and at last came to this agreement; viz., the 
 chief petitioners and the rest of the offenders were 
 severally fined (all their fines not amounting to 50 
 pounds), the rest of the petitioners to bear equal share 
 to 50 pounds more towards the charges of the court 
 
112 JOHN WINTHROP. 
 
 (two of the principal offenders were the deputies of the 
 town, Joshua Hubbert and Bozone Allen, the first 
 was fined 20 pounds, and the other 5 pounds), lieu- 
 tenant Ernes to be under admonition, the deputy gov- 
 ernor to be legally and publicly acquit of all that was 
 laid to his charge. 
 
 According to this agreement, presently after the 
 lecture the magistrates and deputies took their places 
 in the meeting house, and the people being come 
 together, and the deputy governor placing himself 
 within the bar, as at the time of the hearing, etc., 
 the governor read the sentence of the court, with- 
 out speaking any more, for the deputies had (by 
 importunity) obtained a promise of silence from the 
 magistrates. Then w'as the deputy governor desired 
 by the court to go up and take his place again upon 
 the bench, which he did accordingly, and, the court 
 being about to arise, he desired leave for a little speech, 
 which was to this effect: — 
 
 I suppose something may be expected from me 
 upon this charge that is befallen me, which moves me 
 to speak now to you ; yet I intend not to intermeddle 
 in the proceedings of the court, or with any of the 
 persons concerned therein. Only I bless God that 
 I see an issue of this troublesome business. I also 
 acknowledge the justice of the court, and, for mine 
 own part, I am well satisfied, I was publicly charged, 
 and I am publicly and legally acquitted, which is all 
 I did expect or desire. And though this be sufficient 
 for my justification before men, yet not so before the 
 God who hath seen so much amiss in my dispensa- 
 tions (and even in this affair) as calls me to be hum- 
 
WINTHROP ON LIBERTY. I 13 
 
 ble. For to be publicly and criminally charged in 
 this court is matter of humiliation (and I desire to 
 make a right use of it), notwithstanding I be thus 
 acquitted. If her father had spit in her face (saith 
 the Lord concerning Miriam), should she not have 
 been ashamed seven days ? Shame had lien upon her, 
 whatever the occasion had been. I am unwilling to 
 stay you from your urgent affairs, yet give me leave 
 (upon this special occasion) to speak a little more to 
 this assembly. It may be of some good use to inform 
 and rectify the judgments of some of the people, and 
 may prevent such distempers as have arisen amongst 
 us. The great questions that have troubled the coun- 
 try are about the authority of the magistrates and the 
 liberty of the people. It is yourselves who have 
 called us to this office, and, being called by you, we 
 have our authority from God, in way of an ordinance, 
 such as hath the image of God eminently stamped 
 upon it, the contempt and violation whereof hath been 
 vindicated with examples of divine vengeance. I 
 entreat you to consider that, when you choose magis- 
 trates, you take them from among yourselves, men 
 subject to like passions as you are. Therefore, when 
 you see infirmities in us, you should reflect upon your 
 own, and that would make you bear the more with 
 us, and not be severe censurers of the failings of your 
 magistrates, when you have continual experience of 
 the like infirmities in yourselves and others. We 
 account him a good servant who breaks not his cov- 
 enant. The covenant between you and us is the 
 oath you have taken of us, which is to this purpose, 
 that we shall govern you and judge your causes by the 
 rules of God's laws and our own, according to our 
 
114 JOHN WINTHROR 
 
 best skill. When you agree with a workman to build 
 you a ship or house, etc., he undertakes as well for 
 his skill as for his faithfulness ; for it is his profession, 
 and you pay him for both. But, when you call one 
 to be a magistrate, he doth not profess nor undertake 
 to have sufficient skill for that office, nor can you fur- 
 nish him with gifts, etc., therefore you must run the 
 hazard of his skill and ability. But if he fail in faith- 
 fulness, which by his oath he is bound unto, that he 
 must answer for. If it fall out that the case be clear 
 to common apprehension, and the rule clear also, if 
 he transgress here, the error is not in the skill, but in 
 the evil of the will : it must be required of him. But 
 if the case be doubtful, or the rule doubtful, to men 
 of such understanding and parts as your magistrates 
 are, if your magistrates should err here, yourselves 
 must bear it. 
 
 For the other point concerning liberty, I observe 
 a great mistake in the country about that. There is 
 a twofold liberty, natural (I mean as our nature is now 
 corrupt) and civil or federal. The first is common 
 to man with beasts and other creatures. By this, man 
 as he stands in relation to man simply, hath liberty to 
 do what he lists : it is a liberty to evil as well as to 
 good. This liberty is incompatible and inconsistent 
 with authority, and cannot endure the least restraint 
 of the most just authority. The exercise and main- 
 taining of this liberty makes men grow more evil, and 
 in time to be worse than brute beasts: omnes sumus 
 licentia deteriores. This is that great enemy of truth 
 and peace, that wild beast, which all the ordinances 
 of God are bent against, to restrain and subdue it. 
 The other kind of liberty I call civil or federal ; it may 
 
WINTHROP ON LIBERTY. 
 
 115 
 
 also be termed moral, in reference to the covenant be- 
 tween God and man, in the moral law, and the poli- 
 tic covenants and constitutions, amongst men them- 
 selves. This liberty is the proper end and object of" 
 authority, and cannot subsist without it; and it is a 
 liberty to that only which is good, just, and honest. 
 This liberty you are to stand for, with the hazard (not 
 only of your goods, but) of your lives, if need be. 
 Whatsoever crosseth this is not authority, but a distem- 
 per thereof. This liberty is maintained and exercised 
 in a way of subjection to authority ; it is of the same 
 kind of liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free. 
 The woman's own choice makes such a man her hus- 
 band ; yet, being so chosen, he is her lord, and she is 
 to be subject to him, yet in a way of liberty, not of 
 bondage ; and a true wife accounts her subjection her 
 honor and freedom, and would not think her condi- 
 tion safe and free but in her subjection to her husband's 
 authority. Such is the liberty of the church under 
 the authority of Christ, her king and husband ; his yoke 
 is so easy and sweet to her as a bride's ornaments ; and 
 if through frowardness or wantonness, etc., she shake it 
 off, at any time, she is at no rest in her spirit until she 
 take it up again ; and whether her lord smiles upon 
 her, and embraceth her in his arms, or whether he 
 frowns, or rebukes, or smites her, she apprehends the 
 sweetness of his love in all, and is refreshed, supported, 
 and instructed by every such dispensation of his au- 
 thority over her. On the other side, ye know who 
 they are that complain of this yoke and say, let us 
 break their bands, etc., we will not have this man to 
 rule over us. Even so, brethren, it will be between 
 you and your magistrates. If you stand for your 
 
I I 6 JOHN WINTHROP. 
 
 natural corrupt liberties, and will do what is good in 
 your own eyes, you will not endure the least weight 
 of authority, but will murmur, and oppose, and be 
 always striving to shake off that yoke ; but if you will 
 be satisfied to enjoy such civil and lawful liberties, such 
 as Christ allows you, then will you quietly and cheer- 
 fully submit unto that authority which is set over you, 
 in all the administrations of it, for your good. Wherein, 
 if we fail at any time, we hope we shall be willing 
 (by God's assistance) to hearken to good advice from 
 any of you, or in any other way of God ; so shall 
 your liberties be preserved, in upholding the honor 
 and power of authority amongst you. 
 
 The deputy governor having ended his speech, the 
 court arose, and the magistrates and deputies retired 
 to attend their other affairs. 
 
 LETTERS TO AND FROM WINTHROP 
 AND HIS WIFE. 
 
 A Letter written by John Winthrop to his 
 Third Wife, Margaret, April 3, 1630. 
 
 My love, my joy, my faithful one, I suppose thou 
 didst not expect to have any more letters from me 
 till the return of our ships ; but so is the good pleas- 
 ure of God, that the wind should not serve yet to 
 carry us hence. He will do all things in his own 
 time, and that shall be for the best in the end. We 
 acknowledge it a great mercy to us, that we went not 
 out to sea on Monday, when the wind was fair for 
 
LETTERS. 1 1 7 
 
 one day ; for we had been exposed, ever since, to 
 sore tempests and contrary winds. I praise God, 
 we are all in good health, and want nothing. For 
 myself, I was never at more liberty of body and mind 
 these many years. The Lord make me thankful and 
 wise to improve his blessings for the furtherance of 
 his own work. I desire to resign myself wholly to 
 his gracious disposing. Oh that I had an heart so to 
 do, and to trust perfectly in him for his assistance 
 in all our ways. We find him still going along with 
 us. He hath brought in the heart of the master of 
 our ship to afford us all good respect, and to join with 
 us in every good action. Yesterday he caused his 
 seamen to keep a fast with us, wherein the Lord 
 assisted us and our minister very comfortably ; and 
 when five of the clock came, I had respite to re- 
 member thee (it being Friday), and to parley with 
 thee, and to meet thee in spirit before the Lord. . . . 
 I am uncertain whether I shall have opportunity to 
 send these to thee ; for, if the wind turn, we shall 
 soon be gone. Therefore I will not write much. I 
 know it will be sufficient for thy present comfort, to 
 hear of our welfare ; and this is the third letter I have 
 written to thee, since I came to Hampton, in requital 
 of those two I received from thee, which I do often 
 read with much delight, apprehending so much love 
 and sweet affection in them, as I am never satisfied 
 with reading, nor can read them without tears ; but 
 whether they proceed from joy, sorrow, or desire, or 
 f-om that consent of affection which I always hold 
 with thee, I cannot conceive. Ah, my dear heart, 
 I ever held thee in high esteem, as thy love and good- 
 ness hath well deserved ; but (if it be possible) I shall 
 
I I 8 JOHN WINTHROP. 
 
 yet prize thy virtue at a greater rate, and long more 
 to enjoy thy sweet society than ever before. I am 
 sure thou art not short of me in this desire. Let us 
 pray hard, and pray in faith, and our God, in his 
 good time, will accomplish our desire. Oh, how 
 loath am I to bid thee farewell ! but, since it must be, 
 farewell, my sweet love, farewell. Farewell, my 
 dear children and family. The Lord bless you all, 
 and grant me to see your faces once again. Come 
 (my dear), take him and let him rest in thine arms, 
 who will ever remain, 
 
 Thy faithful husband 
 
 Jo. WlNTHROP. 
 
 Commend my love to all our friends at Castleins, 
 Mr. Leigh and his wife, my neighbor Cole and his 
 wife, and all the rest of our good friends and neigh- 
 bors, and our good friends at Maplested, when you 
 see them, and those our worthy and kind friends at 
 Assington, etc. My brother Arthur hath carried 
 himself very soberly since he came on shipboard, and 
 so hath Mr. Brand's son, and my cousin Ro. Samp- 
 son. I hope their friends shall hear well of them. 
 
 From aboard the Arbella, riding before Yarmouth, 
 in the Isle of Wight, April 3, 1630. 
 
 To my very loving Wife, Mrs. Winthrop, ") 
 the elder, at Groton, in Suffolk, d'd. j 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 Mrs. Winthrop to her Husband. 
 
 II 9 
 
 Dear in my thoughts, I blush to think how much 
 I have neglected the opportunity of presenting my 
 love to you. Sad thoughts possess my spirits, and 
 I cannot repulse them ; which makes me unfit for any 
 thing, wondering what the Lord means by all these 
 troubles among us. Sure I am, that all shall work 
 to the best to them that love God, or rather are loved 
 of him. I know he will bring light out of obscurity, 
 and make his righteousness shine forth as clear as the 
 noonday. Yet I find in myself an adverse spirit, and 
 a trembling heart, not co-willing to submit to the will 
 of God as I desire. There is a time to plant, and a 
 time to pull up that which is planted, which I could 
 desire might not be yet. But the Lord knoweth what 
 is best, and his will be done. But I will write no 
 more. Hoping to see thee to-morrow, my best 
 affections being commended to yourself, the rest of 
 our friends at Newton, I commend thee to God. 
 Your loving wife, 
 
 Margaret Winthrop. 
 
 Sad Boston, 1637. 
 
 To her honored Husband, 
 these be delivered. 
 
THE BAY PSALM BOOK. 
 
 The Bay Psalm Book has the distinction of being 
 the first book published in British America. It was 
 the joint product of Richard Mather, founder of that 
 distinguished family of New England divines, Thomas 
 Welde and John Eliot, the missionary to the Indians. 
 It was printed by Stephen Dave at Cambridge in 
 1640, was amended in 1650, and remained in gen- 
 eral use for many years among the New England 
 clergy. The question as to whether it was right to 
 sing to the Lord with a cheerful voice or any other 
 continued to be a subject of bitter controversy, in 
 which John Cotton took the more liberal side. Although 
 modern hymnbooks contain verses hardly less painful 
 to the cultivated ear, it is hard to realize how such 
 a crude performance could have ministered to edifica- 
 tion, for it outdid Sternhold and Hopkins in harsh 
 crudity of style, metre and rhythm. Yet it was the 
 product of university men. Mather had been a stu- 
 dent at Oxford ; John Eliot was a graduate of Cam- 
 bridge. They must have served their apprenticeship 
 at Latin verse-making, and it is incredible that they 
 should not have been able to write better English 
 verse had they so desired. But they were determined 
 that the Lord's praises should be sung according to 
 his own will, and with their ideas of literal Biblical 
 inspiration, they were willing to sacrifice every element 
 of poetry to what they imagined was faithfulness to 
 
THE BAY PSALM BOOK. 121 
 
 Hebrew originals. They tell us in their preface that 
 they "attempted conscience rather than elegance, 
 fidelity rather than poetry." That they thought these 
 qualities contradictory illustrates the fatal flaw in 
 Puritan aesthetics. How numbing this moral disci- 
 pline had been to the harmonies and amenities of life 
 may be judged from the fact that few congregations 
 knew more than five tunes, and but ten are known to 
 have been used for the first half-century of the Bay 
 Psalm Book 1 s existence. 
 
 [From the Preface.] 
 
 If therefore the verses are not always so smooth 
 and elegant as some may desire or expect ; let them 
 consider that God's Altar needs not our polishings : 
 Ex. 20. for we have respected rather a plain trans- 
 lation, than to smooth our verses with the sweetness 
 of any paraphrase, and so have attended conscience 
 rather than elegance, fidelity rather than poetry, in 
 translating the Hebrew words into English language, 
 and David's poetry into English metre ; that so we 
 may sing in Sion the Lord's songs of praise ac- 
 cording to his own will ; until he take us 
 from hence, and wipe away all our 
 tears, and bid us enter into our 
 master's joy to sing eternal 
 Halleluiahs. 
 
122 THE BAY PSALM BOOK. 
 
 PSALM XXIII. 
 
 A PSALM OF DAVID. 
 
 The earth Iehovah's is, 
 
 and the fulness of it : 
 the habitable world, and they 
 
 that there upon do sit. 
 
 2 Because upon the seas, 
 
 he hath it firmly laid : 
 and it upon the water-floods 
 most solidly hath staid. 
 
 3 The mountain of the Lord, 
 
 who shall thereto ascend ? 
 and in his place of holiness 
 
 who is it that shall stand ? 
 
 4 The clean in hands, and pure 
 
 in heart ; to vanity 
 who hath not lifted up his soul, 
 nor sworn deceitfully. 
 
 5 From God he shall receive 
 
 a benediction, 
 and righteousness from the strong-God 
 of his salvation. 
 
 6 This is the progeny 
 
 of them that seek thy face : 
 of them that do inquire for him : 
 
 of Iacob 'tis the race. Selah. 
 
 7 Ye gates lift-up your heads, 
 
 and doors everlasting, 
 be ye lift up : and there into 
 
 shall come the glorious-King. 
 
THE BAY PSALM BOOK. 1 23 
 
 8 Who is this glorious-King ? 
 
 Iehovah, puissant, 
 and valiant, Iehovah is 
 in battle valiant. 
 
 9 Ye gates lift-up your heads, 
 
 and doors everlasting, 
 do ye lift-up : and there into 
 
 shall come the glorious-King, 
 o Who is this glorious-King ? 
 
 lo, it is Iehovah 
 of warlike armies, he the King 
 
 of glory is ; Selah. 
 
 PSALM XXIX. 
 
 A PSALM OF DAVID. 
 
 Unto the Lord do ye ascribe 
 
 (o Sonnes of the mighty) 
 unto the Lord do ye ascribe 
 
 glory and potency. 
 
 2 Unto the Lord do ye ascribe 
 
 his name's glorious renown, 
 in beauty of his holiness 
 
 unto the Lord bow down. 
 
 3 The mighty voice of Iehovah 
 
 upon the waters is : 
 the God of glory thundereth, 
 God on great waters is. 
 
 4 Iehovah' s voice is powerful, 
 
 God's voice is glorious, 
 
 5 God's voice breaks cedars : yea God breaks 
 
 cedars of Lebanus. 
 
124 THE BAY PSALM BOOK. 
 
 6 He makes them like a calf to skip : 
 
 the mountain Lebanon, 
 and like to a young Unicorn 
 the hill of Syrion. 
 
 7 God's voice divides the flames of fire. 
 
 8 Iehovah's voice doth make 
 
 the desert shake : the Lord doth cause 
 the Cadesh-desert shake. 
 
 9 The Lord's voice makes the hinds to calve, 
 
 and makes the forest bare : 
 and in his temple every one 
 
 his glory doth declare. 
 io The Lord sate on the floods : the Lord 
 
 for ever sits as King. 
 1 1 God to his folk gives strength : the Lord 
 
 his folk with peace blessing. 
 
 PSALM LXIII. 
 
 A Psalm of David, when he was in the wilderness of Judah. 
 
 O God, thou art my God, early 
 
 I will for thee inquire : 
 my soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh 
 
 for thee hath strong desire, 
 In land whereas no water is 
 
 that thirsty is and dry. 
 
 2 To see, as I saw in thine house 
 
 thy strength and thy glory. 
 
 3 Because thy loving kindness doth 
 
 abundantly excel 
 ev'n life itself: wherefore my lips 
 forth shall thy praises tell 
 
THE BAY PSALM BOOK. 125 
 
 4 Thus will I blessing give to thee 
 
 whilst that alive am I : 
 and in thy name I will lift up 
 
 these hands of mine on high. 
 
 5 My soul as with marrow and fat 
 
 shall satisfied be : 
 my mouth also with joyful lips 
 shall praise give unto thee. 
 
 6 When as that I remembrance have 
 
 of thee my bed upon, 
 and on thee in the night watches 
 have meditation. 
 
 7 Because that thou hast been to me 
 
 he that to me help brings ; 
 therefore will I sing joyfully 
 in shadow of thy wings. 
 
 8 My soul out of an ardent love 
 
 doth follow after thee : 
 also thy right hand it is that 
 
 which hath upholden me. ' 
 
 9 But as for those that seek my soul 
 
 to bring it to an end, 
 they shall into the lower parts 
 of the earth down descend. 
 
 10 By the hand of the sword also 
 
 they shall be made to fall : 
 and they be for a portion 
 unto the foxes shall. 
 
 1 1 But the King shall rejoice in God, 
 
 all that by him do swear 
 shall glory, but stopped shall be 
 their mouths that liars are. 
 
126 THE BAY PSALM BOOK. 
 
 PSALM CXXXVII. 
 
 1 The rivers on of Babilon, 
 
 there where we did sit down 2 
 Yea even then we mourned when 
 we remembered Sion. 
 
 2 Our harp we did hang it amid, 
 
 Upon the willow tree, 
 
 3 Because there they that us away 
 
 led in captivity 
 Requir'd of us a song, and thus 
 
 ask't mirth us waste who laid, 
 Sing us among a Sion's song, 
 
 unto us then they said. 
 
 4 The Lord's song sing can we ? being 
 
 in stranger's land, then let 
 
 5 lose her skill my right hand if I 
 
 Jerusalem forget. 
 
 6 Let cleave my tongue my palate on 
 
 • if mind thee do not I, 
 if chief joys o'er I prize not more 
 Jerusalem my joy. 
 
 7 Remember Lord, Edom's sons' word, 
 
 unto the ground said they, 
 it raze, it raze, when as it was 
 Jerusalem her day. 
 
 8 Blest shall he be that payeth thee 
 
 daughter of Babilon, 
 who must be waste, that which thou hast 
 rewarded us upon. 
 
 9 O happy he shall surely be 
 
 that taketh up, that eke 
 thy little ones against the stones 
 doth into pieces break. 
 
JOHN UNDERHILL. 
 
 John Underhill, one of the annalists of the Pequot 
 War, was born in Warwickshire, England, it is not 
 known when, and died at Oyster Bay, Long Island, 
 about 1672. He had served in the Netherlands and 
 at Cadiz before his advent in New England with John 
 Winthrbp. He soon took a prominent place in the 
 Puritan colony and was representative in the Assembly. 
 Appointed by Sir Henry Vane to be Commander of 
 the Colony's troops, he conducted their operations so 
 efficiently as utterly to break the power of the Pequot 
 Indians in the campaign described with much verve 
 in his brief News from America (1638). His 
 companion in this undertaking was Captain John 
 Mason, who will speak for himself presently. His 
 religious opinions and private morals were less accept- 
 able to the colony than his soldierly qualities. He 
 was banished from Boston, and went to England, 
 where we find him in 1641 governor of Exeter and 
 Dover. He returned, however, to America, settling 
 first in Stamford, Conn., then in Flushing, L.I., 
 having in the meantime held an important command 
 in the hostilities carried on by the Colonies against the 
 Indians and Dutch. He was prominent in public af- 
 fairs until his death. His destruction of the Pequots 
 was so warmly appreciated by the rival Mantinenoc 
 [ndians, that they presented him with 1 50 acres of 
 127 
 
128 JOHN UNDERHILL. 
 
 land, still held by his descendants. Underhill is 
 most remarkable for his skill in discerning special 
 providences, and in laying to his soul the flattering 
 unction of godliness, while abetting cruel barbarities. 
 
 HOW UNDERHILL ESCAPED DEATH AT 
 BLOCK ISLAND. 
 
 [From " News from America or a Late Experi- 
 mental Discovery of New-England," 1638.] 
 
 Drawing near to the place of landing, the number 
 that rose from behind the barricado were between fifty 
 or sixty able fighting men — men as straight as arrows, 
 very tall, and of active bodies — having their arrows 
 notched. They drew near to the water-side, and let 
 fly at the soldiers, as though they had meant to have 
 made an end of us all in a moment. They shot a 
 young gentleman in the neck through a collar for stiff- 
 ness as' if it had been an oaken board, and entered his 
 flesh a good depth. Myself received an arrow through 
 my coat-sleeve, a second against my helmet on the 
 forehead ; so as if God in his providence had not 
 moved the heart of my wife to persuade me to carry 
 it along with me, (which I was unwilling to do,) I 
 had been slain. Give me leave to observe two things 
 from hence : first, when the hour of death is not yet 
 come, you see God useth weak means to keep his pur- 
 pose unviolated ; secondly, let no man despise advice 
 and counsel of his wife, though she be a woman. It 
 were strange to nature to think a man should be bound 
 to fulfil the humor of a woman, what arms he should 
 
ESCAPE FROM DEATH. I 29 
 
 carry ; but you see God will have it so, that a woman 
 should overcome a man. What with Delilah's flattery, 
 and with her mournful tears, they must and will have 
 their desire, when the hand of God goes along in the 
 matter ; and this is to accomplish his own will. There- 
 fore let the clamor be quenched I daily hear in my 
 ears, that New-England men usurp over their wives, 
 and keep them in servile subjection. The country is 
 wronged in this matter, as in many things else. Let 
 this precedent satisfy the doubtful, for that comes from 
 the example of a rude soldier. If they be so courte- 
 ous to their wives, as to take their advice in warlike 
 matters, how much more kind is the tender, affection- 
 ate husband to honor his wife as the weaker vessel ! 
 Yet mistake not. I say not that they are bound to 
 call their wives in council, though they are bound to 
 take their private advice (so far as they see it make for 
 their advantage and their good). Instance Abraham. 
 But to the matter : The arrows flying thick about us, 
 we made haste to the shore ; but the surf of the sea 
 being great, hindered us, so as we could scarce dis- 
 charge a musket, but were forced to make haste to 
 land. Drawing near the shore through the strength 
 of wind, and the hollowness of the sea, we durst not 
 adventure to run ashore, but were forced to wade up 
 to the middle ; but once having got up off our legs, 
 we gave fire upon them. They finding our bullets to 
 outreach their arrows, they fled before us. In the 
 meanwhile Colonel Hindecot made to the shore, and 
 some of this number also repulsed him at his landing, 
 but hurt no one. We thought they would stand it 
 out with us, but they perceiving we were in earnest, 
 fled, and left their wigwams, or houses, and provision 
 
130 JOHN UNDERHILL. 
 
 to the use of our soldiers. Having set forth our sen- 
 tinels, and laid out our pardues, we betook ourselves 
 to the guard, expecting hourly they would fall upon 
 us ; but they observed the old rule, ** 'Tis good 
 sleeping in a whole skin," and left us free from an 
 alarm. 
 
 THE RESULTS OF AN EMBASSY. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 The Pequeats having slain one Captain Norton, 
 and Captain Stone, with seven more of their company, 
 order was given us to visit them, sailing along the 
 Nahanticot shore with five vessels. The Indians, 
 spying of us, came running in multitudes along the 
 water-side, crying, " What cheer, Englishmen, what 
 cheer? What do you come for?" They, not 
 thinking we intended war, went on cheerfully until 
 they came to Pequeat river. We, thinking it the 
 best way, did forbear to answer them ; first, that we 
 might the better be able to run through the work ; 
 secondly, that by delaying of them, we might drive them 
 in security, to the end we might have the more ad- 
 vantage of them. But they, seeing we would make 
 no answer, kept on their course, and cried, "What, 
 Englishmen, what cheer, what cheer, are you hog- 
 gery, will you cram us ? " That is, f* Are you angry, 
 will you kill us, and do you come to fight ? " That 
 night the Nanhanticot Indians and the Pequeats made 
 fires on both sides of the river, fearing we would land 
 in the night. They made most doleful and woful 
 cries all the night, (so that we could scarce rest,) 
 
RESULTS OF AN EMBASSY. 131 
 
 hallowing one to another, and giving the word from 
 place to place, to gather their forces together, fearing 
 the English were come to war against them. 
 
 The next morning they sent early aboard an 
 ambassador, a grave senior, a man of good under- 
 standing, portly carriage, grave and majestical in his 
 expressions. He demanded of us what the end of 
 our coming was. To which we answered, that the 
 governors of the Bay sent us to demand the heads of 
 those persons that had slain Captain Norton and Cap- 
 tain Stone, and the rest of their company, and that it 
 was not the custom of the English to suffer murderers 
 to live ; and therefore, if they desired their own peace 
 and welfare, they will peaceably answer our expecta- 
 tion, and give us the heads of the murderers. 
 
 They being a witty and ingenious nation, their 
 ambassador labored to excuse the matter, and an- 
 swered : " We know not that any of ours have 
 slain any English. True it is," saith he, " we have 
 slain such a number of men ; but consider the ground 
 of it. Not long before the coming of these English 
 into the river, there was a certain vessel that came to 
 us in way of trade. We used them well, and traded 
 with them, and took them to be such as would not 
 wrong us in the least matter. But our sachem or 
 prince coming aboard, they laid a plot how they 
 might destroy him ; which plot discovereth itself by 
 the event, as followeth : They keeping their boat 
 aboard, and not desirous of our company, gave us 
 leave to stand hallooing ashore, that they might work 
 their mischievous plot. But as we stood they called 
 to us, and demanded of us a bushel of wampam-peke, 
 which is their money. This they demanded for his 
 
132 JOHN UNDERHILL. 
 
 ransom. This peal did ring terrible in our ears, to 
 demand so much for the life of our prince, whom we 
 thought was in the hands of honest men, and we had 
 never wronged them. But we saw there was no 
 remedy ; their expectation must be granted, or else 
 they would not send him ashore, which they promised 
 they would do if we would answer their desires. 
 We sent them so much aboard, according to demand, 
 and they, according to their promise, sent him ashore, 
 but first slew him. This much exasperated our spirits, 
 and made us vow a revenge. Suddenly after came these 
 captains with a vessel into the river, and pretended to 
 trade with us, as the former did. We did not discoun- 
 tenance them for the present, but took our opportunity 
 and came aboard." The sachem's son succeeding his 
 father, was the man that came into the cabin of Captain 
 Stone, and Captain Stone having drunk more than did 
 him good, fell backwards on the bed asleep. The saga- 
 more took his opportunity, and having a little hatchet 
 under his garment, therewith knocked him in the head. 
 Some being upon the deck and others under, suspected 
 some such thing ; for the rest of the Indians that 
 were aboard had orders to proceed against the rest at 
 one time ; but the English, spying treachery, run 
 immediately into the cook-room, and, with a fire- 
 brand, had thought to have blown up the Indians by 
 setting fire to the powder. These devil's instruments 
 spying this plot of the English, leaped overboard as 
 the powder was a-firing, and saved themselves ; but 
 all the English were blown up. This was the man- 
 ner of their bloody action. Saith the ambassador to 
 us, M Could ye blame us for revenging so cruel a 
 murder ? for we distinguished not between the Dutch 
 
RESULTS OF AN EMBASSY. I33 
 
 and English, but took them to be one nation, and 
 therefore we do not conceive that we wronged you, 
 for they slew our king ; and thinking these captains 
 to be of the same nation and people as those that slew 
 him, made us set upon this course of revenge." 
 
 Our answer was : f* They were able to distinguish 
 between Dutch and English, having had sufficient 
 experience of both nations ; and therefore, seeing you 
 have slain the king of England's subjects, we come to 
 demand an account of their blood, for we ourselves 
 are liable to account for them." 
 
 The answer of the ambassador was : f * We know 
 no difference between the Dutch and the English ; 
 they are both strangers to us ; we took them to be all 
 one ; therefore we crave pardon ; we have not wil- 
 fully wronged the English." 
 
 "This excuse will not serve our turns, for we 
 have sufficient testimony that you know the English 
 from the Dutch. We must have the heads of those 
 persons that have slain ours, or else we will fight with 
 you." 
 
 He answered : " Understanding the ground of 
 your coming, I will entreat you to give me liberty to 
 go ashore, and I shall inform the body of the people 
 what your intent and resolution is ; and if you will 
 stay aboard, I will bring you a sudden answer." 
 
 We did grant him liberty to get ashore, and our- 
 selves followed suddenly after before the war was pro- 
 claimed. He seeing us land our forces, came with a 
 message to entreat us to come no nearer, but stand in 
 a valley, which had between us and them an ascent, 
 that took our sight from them ; but they might see 
 us to hurt us, to our prejudice. Thus, from the first 
 
134 JOHN UNDERHILL. 
 
 beginning to the end of the action, they carried them- 
 selves very subtlely ; but we, not willing to be ai 
 their direction, marched up to the ascent, having set 
 our men in battalia. He came and told us he had 
 inquired for the sachem, that we might come to a 
 parley ; but neither of both of the princes were at 
 home ; they were gone to Long Island. 
 
 Our reply was : " We must not be put off thus ; 
 we know the sachem is in the plantation, and there- 
 fore bring him to us, that we may speak with him, or 
 else we will beat up the drum, and march through 
 the country and spoil your corn." 
 
 His answer : "If you will but stay a little while, 
 I will step to the plantation and seek for them." 
 
 We gave them leave to take their own course, and 
 used as much patience as ever men might, considering 
 the gross abuse they offered us, holding us above an 
 hour in vain hopes. They sent an Indian to tell us 
 that Mommenoteck was found, and would appear 
 before us suddenly. This brought us to a new stand 
 the space of an hour more. There came a third 
 Indian persuading us to have a little further patience, 
 and he would not tarry, for he had assembled the 
 body of the Pequeats together, to know who the par- 
 ties were that had slain these Englishmen. But see- 
 ing that they did in this interim convey away their 
 wives and children, and bury their chiefest goods, we 
 perceived at length they would fly from us ; but we 
 were patient and bore with them, in expectation to 
 have the greater blow upon them. The last messen- 
 ger brought us this intelligence from the sachem, that 
 if we would but lay down our arms, and approach 
 about thirty paces from them, and meet the heathen 
 
ATTACK ON THE INDIAN FORT. 1 35 
 
 prince, he would cause his men to do the like, and 
 then we shall come to a parley. 
 
 But we seeing their drift was to get our arms, we 
 rather chose to beat up the drum and bid them battle. 
 Marching into a champaign field, we displayed our 
 colors ; but none would come near us, but, standing 
 remotely off, did laugh at us for our patience. We 
 suddenly set upon our march, and gave fire to as 
 many as we could come near, firing their wigwams, 
 spoiling their corn, and many other necessaries that 
 they had buried in the ground we raked up, which 
 the soldiers had for booty. Thus we spent the day 
 burning and spoiling the country. Towards night 
 embarked ourselves. The next morning, landing on 
 the Nahanticot shore, where we were served in like 
 nature, no Indians would come near us, but run from 
 us, as the deer from the dogs. But having burnt 
 and spoiled what we could light on, we embarked 
 our men and set sail for the Bay. Having ended this 
 exploit, came off", having one man wounded in the 
 leg ; but certain numbers of theirs slain, and many 
 wounded. 
 
 This was the substance of the first year's service. 
 
 THE ATTACK ON THE INDIAN FORT. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 Let the ends and aims of a man be good, and he 
 may proceed with courage. The bush may be in the 
 fire, but so long as God appears to Moses out of the 
 bush, there is no great danger. More good than hurt 
 will come out of it. Christ knows how to honor 
 
136 JOHN UNDERHILL. 
 
 himself, and to do his people good, though it be by 
 contrary means, which reason will not fathom. Look 
 but to faith, and that will make us see plainly, that 
 though afflictions for the present are grievous, as 
 doubtless it was with these two captive maids, 1 yet 
 sweet and comfortable is the issue with all Gods's 
 saints, as it was with them. But to go on. 
 
 Having embarqued our soldiers, we weighed anchor 
 at Seabrooke Fort, and set sail for the Narraganset 
 Bay, deluding the Pequeats thereby, for they expected 
 us to fall into Pequeat River; but crossing their expec- 
 tation, bred in them a security: we landed our men 
 in the Narraganset Bay, and marched over land above 
 two days journey before we came to Pequeat; quar- 
 tering the last night's march within two miles of the 
 place, we set forth about one of the clock in the 
 morning, having sufficient intelligence that they knew 
 nothing of our coming. Drawing near to the Fort 
 yielded up ourselves to God, and entreated his assist- 
 ance in so weighty an enterprise. We set on our 
 march to surround the Fort, Captain John Mason, 
 approaching to the west end, where it had an en- 
 trance to pass into it, myself marching to the south- 
 side, surrounding the fort ; placing the Indians, for we 
 had about three hundred of them, without side of our 
 soldiers in a ring battalia, giving a volley of shot upon 
 the fort. So remarkable it appeared to us, as we could 
 not but admire at the providence of God in it, that 
 soldiers so unexpert in the use of their arms, should 
 give so complete a volley, as though the finger of God 
 had touched both match and flint: which volley being 
 
 1 English girls taken by the Pequots and subsequently freed by 
 exchange. 
 
ATTACK ON THE INDIAN FORT. 1 37 
 
 given at break of day, and themselves fast asleep for 
 the most part, bred in them such a terror, that they 
 brake forth into a most doleful cry, so as if God had 
 net fitted the hearts of men for the service, it would 
 have bred in them a commiseration towards them. 
 But every man being bereaved of pity fell upon the 
 work without compassion, considering the blood they 
 had shed of our native country-men, and how bar- 
 barously they had dealt with them, and slain first and 
 last about thirty persons. Having given fire, we 
 approached near to the entrance which they had 
 stopped full, with arms of trees, or brakes. Myself 
 approaching to the entrance found the work too heavy 
 for me, to draw out all those which were strongly 
 forced in. We gave order to one Master Hedge, and 
 some other soldiers to pull out those brakes, having 
 this done, and laid them between me and the entrance, 
 and without order themselves, proceeded first on the 
 south end of the fort. But remarkable it was to many 
 of us ; men that run before they are sent, most com- 
 monly have an ill reward. Worthy reader, let me 
 entreat you to have a more charitable opinion of me 
 (though unworthy to be better thought of) than is 
 reported in the other book. You may remember there 
 is a passage unjustly laid upon me, that when we 
 should come to the entrance, I should put forth this 
 question: Shall we enter? Others should answer again; 
 What came we hither for else ? It is well known to 
 many, it was never my practice in time of my com- 
 mand, when we are in garrison, much to consult 
 with a private soldier, or to ask his advice in point 
 of war, much less in a matter of so great a moment 
 as that was, which experience had often taught me, 
 
138 JOHN UNDERHILL. 
 
 was not a time to put forth such a question, and 
 therefore pardon him that hath given the wrong infor- 
 mation. Having our swords in our right hand, our 
 carbines or muskets in our left hand, we approached 
 the fort, Master Hedge being shot through both 
 arms, and more wounded. Though it be not com- 
 mendable for a man to make mention of any thing 
 that might tend to his own honor ; yet because I 
 would have the providence of God observed, and his 
 name magnified, as well for myself as others, I dare 
 not omit, but let the world know, that deliverance 
 was given to us that command, as well as to private 
 soldiers. Captain Mason and myself entering into 
 the wigwams, he was shot and received many arrows 
 against his head-piece, God preserved him from any 
 wounds ; myself received a shot in the left hip, 
 through a sufficient buff coat, that if I had not been 
 supplied with such a garment, the arrow would have 
 pierced through me ; another I received between 
 neck and shoulders, hanging in the linen of my head- 
 piece. Others of our soldiers were shot, some through 
 the shoulders, some in the face, some in the head, 
 some in the legs : Captain Mason and myself losing 
 each of us a man, and had near twenty wounded. 
 Most courageously these Pequeats behaved themselves: 
 but seeing the fort was too hot for us, we devised a 
 way how we might save ourselves and prejudice them. 
 Captain Mason, entering into a wigwam, brought out 
 a fire-brand, after he had wounded many in the house. 
 Then he set fire on the west-side where he entered, 
 myself set fire on the south end with a train of pow- 
 der, the fires of both meeting in the centre of the fort 
 blazed most terribly, and burnt all in the space of half 
 
ATTACK ON THE INDIAN FORT. 1 39 
 
 an hour. Many courageous fellows were unwilling to 
 come out, and fought most desperately through the 
 palisadoes, so as they were scorched and burnt with 
 the very flame, and were deprived of their arms, in 
 regard the fire burnt their very bowstrings, and so per- 
 ished valiantly. Mercy they did deserve for their 
 valor, could we have had opportunity to have be- 
 stowed it. Many were burnt in the fort, both men, 
 women, and children. Others forced out, and came 
 in troops to the Indians, twenty and thirty at a time, 
 which our soldiers received and entertained with the 
 point of the sword. Down fell men, women, and 
 children : those that scaped us, fell into the hands of 
 the Indians, that were in the rear of us ; it is reported 
 by themselves, that there were about four hundred 
 souls in this fort, and not above five of them escaped 
 out of our hands. Great and doleful was the bloody 
 sight to the view of young soldiers that never had been 
 in war, to see so many souls lie gasping on the 
 ground so thick in some places, that you could hardly 
 pass along. It may be demanded, Why should you 
 be so furious (as some have said) should not Chris- 
 tians have more mercy and compassion ? But I would 
 refer you to David's war, when a people is grown to 
 such a height of blood, and sin against God and man, 
 and all confederates in the action, there he hath no 
 respect to persons, but harrows them, and saws them, 
 and puts them to the sword, and the most terriblest 
 death that may be : sometimes the Scripture declar- 
 eth women and children must perish with their par- 
 ents ; some time the case alters : but we will not 
 dispute it now. We had sufficient light from the 
 word of God for our proceedings. ... 
 
JOHN MASON. 
 
 John Mason, a captain in the Pequot War, was 
 born, in England in 1600, and died at Norwich, Con- 
 necticut, in 1672. Like Underhill, his companion in 
 arms, he had seen service in the Netherlands before he 
 came to America in 1630. After five years at Dor- 
 chester, he moved to Connecticut and was one of the 
 founders of Windsor. Two years later, the attacks 
 of the Pequot Indians on the colonists called for re- 
 taliatory measures ; and Mason, having been put at the 
 head of ninety men, was instructed to attack the Ind- 
 ians at the mouth of the Pequot, now the Thames 
 River. Securing the cooperation of the Mohegan 
 and Narragansett Indians, timid and worthless allies, he 
 attacked and destroyed the Pequot forts on the Mystic. 
 This and subsequent engagements practically annihi- 
 lated the tribe in Connecticut, and there was peace for 
 forty years, for more than thirty of which Mason was 
 major of the colonial troops, and from 1660 to 1670 
 Deputy Governor of Connecticut. He lived first at 
 Saybrook, then at Norwich, exercising also the func- 
 tions of a magistrate. His account of the war, pre- 
 pared at the request of the Colonial General Court, 
 was first published by Increase Mather (1677). It 
 is impersonal, dignified, yet direct, and especially 
 noteworthy for the Joshua-like confidence which it 
 displays in Jehovah's personal, minute, and never 
 140 
 
THE TAKING OF THE FORT. 141 
 
 flagging interest in the Pequot campaign. A life of 
 the sturdy soldier may be found in Sparks' American 
 Biography. 
 
 THE TAKING OF THE FORT AT 
 MYSTIC. 
 
 [From " A Brief History of the Pequot War." 
 Circa 1670.] 
 
 . . . There was a great commander in Belgia who 
 did the States great service in taking a city ; but by 
 going beyond his commission lost his life. His name 
 was Grubbendunk. But if a war be managed duly by 
 judgment and discretion as is requisite, the shows are 
 many times contrary to what they seem to pursue. 
 Whereof the more an enterprise is dissembled and 'kept 
 secret, the more facile to put in execution ; as the 
 proverb, " The farthest way about is sometimes the 
 nearest way home." I shall make bold to present 
 this as my present thoughts in this case : In matters 
 of war, those who are both able and faithful should be 
 improved ; and then bind them not up into too nar- 
 row a compass. For it is not possible for the wisest 
 and ablest senator to foresee all accidents and occur- 
 rents that fall out in the management and pursuit of a 
 war ; nay, although possibly he might be trained up 
 in military affairs ; and truly much less can he have 
 any great knowledge who hath had but little experience 
 therein. What shall I say ? God led his people 
 through many difficulties and turnings ; yet by more 
 than an ordinary hand of providence he brought them 
 to Canaan at last. 
 
142 JOHN MASON. 
 
 On Friday morning we set sail for Narragansett 
 Bay, and on Saturday toward evening we arrived at 
 our desired port, there we kept the Sabbath. 
 
 On the Monday the wind blew so hard at north- 
 west that we could not -go on shore ; as also on the 
 Tuesday until sunset ; at which time Captain Mason 
 landed and marched up to the place of the chief sa- 
 chem's residence ; who told the sachem, " That we had 
 not an opportunity to acquaint him with our coming 
 armed in his country sooner ; yet not doubting but it 
 would be well accepted by him, there being love be- 
 twixt himself and us ; well knowing also that the 
 Pequots and themselves were enemies, and that he 
 could not be unacquainted with those intolerable 
 wrongs and injuries these Pequots had lately done 
 unto the English ; and that we were now come, God 
 assisting, to avenge ourselves upon them ; and that 
 we did only desire free passage through his country." 
 Who returned us this answer, %3 That he did accept of 
 our coming, and did also approve of our design ; only 
 he thought our numbers were too weak to deal with the 
 enemy, who were (as he said) very great captains and 
 men skilful in war." Thus he spake somewhat 
 slighting of us. 
 
 On the Wednesday morning, we marched from 
 thence to a place called Nayanticke, it being about 
 eighteen or twenty miles distant, where another of 
 those Narragansett sachems lived in a fort ; it being 
 a frontier to the Pequots. They carried very proudly 
 towards us ; not permitting any of us to come into 
 their fort. 
 
 We beholding their carriage and the falsehood of 
 Indians, and fearing least they might discover us to 
 
THE TAKING OF THE FORT. I43 
 
 the enemy, especially they having many times some 
 of their near relations among their greatest foes ; we 
 therefore caused a strong guard to be set about their 
 fort, giving charge that no Indian should be suffered 
 to pass in or out. We also informed the Indians, 
 that none of them should stir out of the fort upon peril 
 of their lives : so as they would not suffer any of us 
 to come into their fort, so we would not suffer any 
 of them to go out of the fort. 
 
 There we quartered that night, the Indians not 
 offering to stir out all the while. 
 
 In the morning there came to us several of Mian- 
 tomo his men, who told us, they were come to 
 assist us in our expedition, which encouraged divers 
 Indians of that place to engage also ; who suddenly 
 gathering into a ring, one by one, making solemn 
 protestations how gallantly they would demean them- 
 selves, and how many men they would kill. 
 
 On the Thursday about eight of the clock in the 
 morning, we marched thence towards Pequot, with 
 about five hundred Indians ; but through the heat of 
 the weather and want of provisions some of our men 
 fainted. And having marched about twelve miles, 
 we came to Pawcatuck River, at a ford where our Ind- 
 ians told us the Pequots did usually fish ; there mak- 
 ing a halt, we stayed some small time, the Narragansett 
 Indians manifesting great fear, insomuch that many of 
 them returned, although they had frequently despised 
 us, saying that we durst not look upon a Pequot, but 
 themselves would perform great things ; though we 
 had often told them that we came on purpose and 
 were resolved, God assisting, to see the Pequots, and 
 to fight with them, before we returned, though we 
 
144 JOHN MASON. 
 
 perished. I then enquired of Onkos, what he thought 
 the Indians would do ? Who said, The Narragan- 
 setts would all leave us, but as for himself he would 
 never leave us : and so it proved. For which ex- 
 pressions and some other speeches of his, I shall never 
 forget him. Indeed he was a great friend and did 
 great service. 
 
 And after we had refreshed ourselves with our 
 mean commons, we marched about three miles, and 
 came to a field which had lately been planted with 
 Indian corn. There we made another halt, and 
 called our council, supposing we drew near to the 
 enemy : and being informed by the Indians that the 
 enemy had two forts almost impregnable ; but we 
 were not at all discouraged, but rather animated, in- 
 somuch that we were resolved to assault both their 
 forts at once. But understanding that one of them 
 was so remote that we could not come up with it 
 before midnight, though we marched hard ; whereat 
 we were much grieved, chiefly because the greatest 
 and bloodiest sachem there resided, whose name was 
 Sassacous ; we were then constrained, being exceed- 
 ingly spent in our march with extreme heat and want 
 of necessaries, to accept of the nearest. 
 
 We then marching on in a silent manner, the 
 Indians that remained fell all into the rear, who for- 
 merly kept the van (being possessed with great fear); 
 we continued our march till about one hour in the 
 night : and coming to a little swamp between two 
 hills, there we pitched our little camp ; much wearied 
 with hard travel, keeping great silence, supposing we 
 were very near the fort ; as our Indians informed us ; 
 which proved otherwise. The rocks were our pil- 
 
THE TAKING OF THE FORT. 1 45 
 
 lows ; yet rest was pleasant. The night proved 
 comfortable, being clear and moonlight. We ap- 
 pointed our guards, and placed our sentinels at some 
 distance ; who heard the enemy singing at the fort, 
 who continued that strain until midnight, with great 
 insulting and rejoicing, as we were afterwards in- 
 formed. They seeing our pinnaces sail by them 
 some days before, concluded we were afraid of them 
 and durst not come near them ; the burden of their 
 song tending to that purpose. 
 
 In the morning, we awaking and seeing it very 
 light, supposing it had been day, and so we might 
 have lost our opportunity, having purposed to make 
 our assault before day, roused the men with all expe- 
 dition, and briefly commended ourselves and design 
 to God, thinking immediately to go to the assault ; 
 the Indians showing us a path, told us that it led 
 directly to the fort. We held on our march about two 
 miles, wondering that we came not to the fort, and 
 fearing we might be deluded. But seeing corn 
 newly planted at the foot of a great hill, supposing 
 the fort was not far off, a champaign country being 
 round about us, then making a stand, gave the word 
 for some of the Indians to come up. At length 
 Onkos and one Wequash appeared. We demanded of 
 them, Where was the fort ? They answered, On 
 the top of that hill. Then we demanded, Where 
 were the rest of the Indians ? They answered, Be- 
 hind, exceedingly afraid. We wished them to tell 
 the rest of their fellows, that they should by no 
 means fly, but stand at what distance they pleased, 
 and see whether Englishmen would now fight or not. 
 When Captain Underhill came up, who marched in 
 
I46 JOHN MASON. 
 
 the rear ; and commending ourselves to God, divided 
 our men, there being two entrances into the fort, 
 intending to enter both at once ; Captain Mason 
 leading up to that on the north-east side, who ap- 
 proaching within one rod, heard a dog bark and an 
 Indian crying " Owanux ! Owanux !" which is 
 «' Englishmen ! Englishmen ! " We called up our 
 forces with all expedition, gave fire upon them 
 through the palisado ; the Indians being in a dead, 
 indeed their last sleep. Then we wheeling off fell 
 upon the main entrance, which was blocked up with 
 bushes about breast high, over which the captain passed, 
 intending to make good the entrance, encouraging the 
 rest to follow. Lieutenant Seeley endeavored to 
 enter ; but being somewhat cumbered, stepped back 
 and pulled out the bushes and so entered, and with 
 him about sixteen men. We had formerly con- 
 cluded to destroy them by the sword and save 
 the plunder. 
 
 Whereupon Captain Mason seeing no Indians, 
 entered a wigwam ; where he was beset with many 
 Indians, waiting all opportunities to lay hands on 
 him, but could not prevail. At length William 
 Heydon espying the breach in the wigwam, sup- 
 posing some English might be there, entered; but in 
 his entrance fell over a dead Indian ; but speedily 
 recovering himself, the Indians, some fled, others 
 crept under their beds. The captain going out of 
 the wigwam saw many Indians in the lane or street ; 
 he making towards them, they fled, were pursued to 
 the end of the lane, where they were met by Edward 
 Pattison, Thomas Barber, with some others ; where 
 seven of them were slain, as they said. The cap- 
 
THE TAKING OF THE FORT. I47 
 
 tain facing about, marched a slow pace up the lane 
 he came down, perceiving himself very much out of 
 breath ; and coming to the other end near the place 
 where he first entered, saw two soldiers standing 
 close to the palisado with their swords pointed to 
 the ground. The captain told them that we should 
 never kill them after that manner. The captain also 
 said, We must burn them ; and immediately stepping 
 into the wigwam where he had been before, brought 
 out a fire-brand, and putting it into the mats with 
 which they were covered, set the wigwams on fire. 
 Lieutenant Thomas Bull and Nicholas Omsted be- 
 holding, came up ; and when it was thoroughly 
 kindled, the Indians ran as men most dreadfully 
 amazed. 
 
 And indeed such a dreadful terror did the Al- 
 mighty let fall upon their spirits, that they would 
 fly from us and run into the very flames, where 
 many of them perished. And when the fort was 
 thoroughly fired, command was given, that all 
 should fall off and surround the fort ; which was 
 readily attended by all ; only one Arthur Smith 
 being so wounded that he could not move out of 
 the place, who was happily espied by Lieutenant 
 Bull, and by him rescued. 
 
 The fire was kindled on the north-east side to 
 windward ; which did swiftly overrun the fort, to 
 the extreme amazement of the enemy, and great 
 rejoicing of ourselves. Some of them climbing to 
 the top of the palisado ; others of them running into 
 the very flames ; many of them gathering to wind- 
 ward, lay pelting at us with their arrows ; and we 
 repaid them with our small shot. Others of the 
 
148 JOHN MASON. 
 
 stoutest issued forth, as we did guess, to the numbei 
 of forty, who perished by the sword. . . . 
 
 Thus were they now at their wits' end, who not 
 many hours before exalted themselves in their great 
 pride, threatening and resolving the utter ruin and 
 destruction of all the English, exulting and rejoicing 
 with songs and dances. But God was above them, 
 who laughed his enemies and the enemies of his 
 people to scorn, making them as a fiery oven. Thus 
 were the stout-hearted spoiled, having slept their last 
 sleep, and none of their men could find their hands. 
 Thus did the Lord judge among the heathen, filling 
 the place with dead bodies ! 
 
 And here we may see the just judgment of God, 
 in sending even the very night before this assault, one 
 hundred and fifty men from their other fort, to join 
 with them of that place, who were designed, as some 
 of themselves reported, to go forth against the Eng- 
 lish, at that very instant when this heavy stroke came 
 upon them, where they perished with their fellows. 
 So that the mischief they intended to us, came upon 
 their own pate. They were taken in their own 
 snare, and we through mercy escaped. And thus 
 in little more than one hour's space was their im- 
 pregnable fort with themselves utterly destroyed, to 
 the number of six or seven hundred, as some of 
 themselves confessed. There were only seven 
 taken captive, and about seven escaped. 
 
 Of the English, there were two slain outright, and 
 about twenty wounded. Some fainted by reason 
 of the sharpness of the weather, it being a cool 
 morning, and the want of such comforts and neces- 
 saries as were needful in such a case ; especially our 
 
THE MASSACRE OF PAWCATUCK. 149 
 
 surgeon was much wanting, whom we left with our 
 barks in Narragansett Bay, who had order there to 
 remain until the night before our intended assault. 
 
 THE MASSACRE OF PAWCATUCK. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 Thus did the Lord scatter his enemies with his 
 strong arm. The Pequots now became a prey to all 
 Indians. Happy were they that could bring in their 
 heads to the English ; of which there came almost 
 daily to Windsor, or Hartford. But the Pequots 
 growing weary thereof, sent some of the chief that 
 survived to mediate with the English ; offering that 
 if they might but enjoy their lives, they would be- 
 come the English vassals, to dispose of them as they 
 pleased. Which was granted them. Whereupon 
 Onkos and Myantonimo were sent for, who with 
 the Pequots met at Hartford. The Pequots being 
 demanded, How many of them were then living, 
 answered, About one hundred and eighty, or two 
 hundred. There were then given to Onkos, Sachem 
 of Moheag, eighty ; to Myantonimo, Sachem of 
 Narragansett, eighty ; and to Nynigrett, twenty, 
 when he should satisfy for a mare of Edward Pom- 
 roye's killed by his men. The Pequots were then 
 bound by covenant : That none should inhabit their 
 native country, nor should any of them be called 
 Pequots any more, but Moheags and Narragansetts 
 forever. Shortly after, about forty of them went to 
 Moheag ; others went to Long Island ; the rest 
 
15° JOHN MASON. 
 
 settled at Paweatuck, a place in Pequot country, 
 contrary to their late covenant and agreement with 
 the English. 
 
 Which Connecticut taking into consideration, and 
 well weighing the several inconveniences that might 
 ensue ; for the prevention whereof, they sent out 
 forty men under the command of Captain John 
 Mason, to supplant them, by burning their wig- 
 wams, and bringing away their corn, except they 
 would desert the place [Paweatuck] ; Onkos with 
 about one hundred of his men in twenty canoes, 
 going also to assist in the service. . . . 
 
 We were so suddenly upon them that they had 
 not time to convey away their goods. We viewed 
 their corn, whereof there was plenty, it being their 
 time of harvest ; and coming down to the water-side 
 to our pinnace with half of Onkos' s his men, the 
 rest being plundering the wigwams, we looking 
 towards a hill not far remote, we espied about sixty 
 Indians running towards us ; we supposing they 
 were our absent men, the Moheags that were with 
 us not speaking one word, nor moving towards them 
 until the other came within thirty or forty paces of 
 them. Then they ran and met them and fell on 
 pell-mell striking and cutting with bows, hatchets, 
 knives, etc., after their feeble manner. Indeed it 
 did hardly deserve the name of fighting. We then 
 endeavored to get between them and the woods, 
 that so we might prevent their flying ; which they 
 perceiving, endeavored speedily to get off under the 
 beach : we made no shot at them, nor any hostile 
 attempt upon them. Only seven of them who were 
 Nynigrett's men, were taken. Some of them grow- 
 
THE MASSACRE AT PAWCATUCK. I51 
 
 ing very outrageous, whom we intended to have 
 made shorter by the head, and being about to put it 
 in execution, one Otash, a sachem of Narragansett, 
 brother to Myantonimo, stepping forth, told the cap- 
 tain, They were his brother's men, and that he was 
 a friend to the English, and if he would spare their 
 lives we should have as many murderers' heads in 
 lieu of them which should be delivered to the English. 
 We considering that there was no blood shed as yet, 
 and that it tended to peace and mercy, granted his 
 desire ; and so delivered them to Onkos to secure 
 them until his engagement was performed, because 
 our prison had been very much pestered with such 
 creatures. 
 
 We then drew our bark into a creek, the better to 
 defend her ; for there were many hundreds, within 
 five miles, waiting upon us. There we quartered 
 that night. In the morning, as soon as it was light, 
 there appeared in arms at least three hundred Ind- 
 ians on the other side the creek. Upon which we 
 stood to our arms ; which they perceiving, some of 
 them fled, others crept behind the rocks and trees, 
 not one of them to be seen. We then called to 
 them, saying, We desired to speak with them, and 
 that we would down our arms for that end. Where- 
 upon they stood up. We then informed them, 
 That the Pequots had violated their promise with the 
 English, in that they were not there to inhabit, and 
 that we were sent to supplant them. They answered, 
 saying, The Pequots were good men, their friends, 
 and they would fight for them and protect them. At 
 which we were somewhat moved, and told them, It 
 was not far to the head of the creek where we would 
 
152 JOHN MASON. 
 
 meet them, and then they might try what they could 
 do in that respect. 
 
 They then replied, That they would not fight with 
 Englishmen, for they were Spirits, but would fight 
 with Onkos. We replied, That we thought it was 
 too early for them to fight, but they might take their 
 opportunity ; we should be burning wigwams, and 
 carrying corn aboard all that day. And presently 
 beating up our drum, we fired the wigwams in their 
 view. And as we marched, there were two Indians 
 standing upon a hill jeering and reviling of us. Mr. 
 Thomas Stanton, our interpreter, marching at liberty, 
 desired to make a shot at them ; the captain demand- 
 ing of the Indians, What they were ? who said, They 
 were murderers ; then the said Stanton having leave, 
 let fly, shot one of them through both his thighs ; 
 which was to our wonderment, it being at such a vast 
 distance. 
 
 We then loaded our bark with corn ; and our 
 Indians their canoes, and thirty more which we had 
 taken, with kettles, trays, mats, and other Indian 
 luggage. That night we went all aboard, and set 
 sail homeward. It pleased God in a short time to 
 bring us all in safety to the place of our abode; al- 
 though we stroke and stuck upon a rock. The way 
 and manner how God dealt with us in our delivery 
 was very remarkable ; the story would be somewhat 
 long to trouble you with at this time, and therefore I 
 shall forbear. 
 
 Thus we may see how the face of God is set 
 against them that do evil, to cut off the remembrance 
 of them from the earth. Our tongue shall talk of 
 thy righteousness all the day long ; for they are con- 
 
ADDITION. 
 
 *53 
 
 founded, they are brought to shame that sought our 
 hurt ! Blessed be the Lord God of Israel, who only 
 doth wondrous things ; and blessed be his holy name 
 forever ! Let the whole earth be rilled with his glory ! 
 Thus the Lord was pleased to smite our enemies in 
 the hinder parts, and to give us their land for an 
 inheritance. Who remembered us in our low estate, 
 and redeemed us out of our enemies' hands. Let 
 us therefore praise the Lord for his goodness and his 
 wonderful works to the children of men ! 
 
 ADDITION. 
 
 / shall add a word or two by way of Comment. 
 
 Our commons were very short, there being a gen- 
 eral scarcity throughout the colony of ail sorts of pro- 
 vision, it being upon our first arrival at the place. 
 We had but one pint of strong liquors among us in 
 our whole march, but what the wilderness afforded 
 (the bottle of liquor being in my hand) ; and when 
 it was empty, the very smelling to the bottle would 
 presently recover such as fainted away, which hap- 
 pened by the extremity of the heat. And thus we 
 marched on in an uncouth and unknown path to the 
 English, though much frequented by Indians. And 
 was not the finger of God in all this, by his special 
 providence to lead us along in the way we should go ? 
 Nay, though we knew not where their forts were, 
 how far it was to them, nor the way that led to them, 
 but by what we had from our Indian guides ; whom 
 we could not confide in, but looked at them as uncer- 
 
154 JOHN MASON. 
 
 tain. And yet notwithstanding all our doubts, we 
 should be brought on the very fittest season ; nay, 
 and which is yet more, that we should be carried in 
 our march among a treacherous and perfidious people, 
 yea, in our allodgment so near the enemy, all night 
 in so populous a country, and not the least notice of 
 us, seemeth somewhat strange, and more than ordi- 
 nary. Nay, that we should come to their very doors: 
 What shall J say ? God was pleased to hide us in 
 the hollow of his hand. I still remember a speech 
 of Mr. Hooker at our going aboard : That they 
 should be bread for us. And thus when the Lord 
 turned the captivity of his people, and turned the 
 wheel upon their enemies, we were like men in a 
 dream ; then was our mouth filled with laughter, and 
 our tongues with singing ; thus we may say the Lord 
 hath done great things for us among the heathen, 
 whereof we are glad. Praise ye the Lord ! 
 
 I shall mention two or three special providences 
 that God was pleased to vouchsafe to particular men ; 
 viz. two men being one man's servants, namely, 
 John Dier and Thomas Stiles, were both of them 
 shot in the knots of their handkerchiefs, being about 
 their necks, and received no hurt. Lieutenant Seeley 
 was shot in the eyebrow with a flat-headed arrow, 
 the point turning downwards : I pulled it out my- 
 self. Lieutenant Bull had an arrow shot into a hard 
 piece of cheese, having no other defence. Which 
 may verify the old saying, "A little armor would 
 serve if a man knew where to place it." Many 
 such providences happened ; some respecting myself; 
 but since there is none that witness to them, I shall 
 forbear to mention them. 
 
ADDITION. 155 
 
 The year ensuing, the colony being in extreme 
 want of provision, many giving twelve shillings for 
 one bushel of Indian corn ; the court of Connecticut 
 employing Captain Mason, Mr. William Wadsworth 
 and Deacon Stebbin, to try what providence would 
 afford, for their relief in this great strait. Who, not- 
 withstanding some discouragement they met with 
 from some English, went to a place called Pocom- 
 tuck, where they procured so much corn at reason- 
 able rates, that the Indians brought down to Hartford 
 and Windsor fifty canoes laden with corn at one time. 
 Never was the like known to this day ! So although 
 the Lord was pleased to show his people hard things ; 
 yet did he execute judgment for the oppressed, and 
 gave food to the hungry. Oh, let us meditate on 
 the great works of God ! ascribing all blessing and 
 praise to his great name, for all his great goodness 
 and salvation ! Amen, Amen. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
JOHN COTTON. 
 
 John Cotton, one of the most distinguished of the 
 early New England clergy, was born in Derby, Eng- 
 land in 1585, and died in Boston, Massachusetts, in 
 1652. Like most of the Puritan divines he enjoyed 
 a university education at Cambridge, where he at- 
 tained promotion and distinction, being especially 
 noted for his oratorical and rhetorical abilities. He 
 was ordained priest, and became vicar at Boston in 
 Lincolnshire about 161 2, a position which he kept 
 for more than twenty years, though not without epis- 
 copal intervention. His troubles under Laud's regime 
 culminated in his flight to London and in his escape 
 to the New England Boston in 1633. Within a 
 fortnight he was appointed teacher in the First Church, 
 and was connected with that congregation till his 
 death. Though he was the ripest scholar in New 
 England, well versed in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew 
 and grounded in the Calvinistic theology, despite his 
 coquetting with Mrs. Hutchinson's anti-nomianism, 
 his style is so lacking in attractive qualities as to 
 make the compliments showered on him by con- 
 temporaries almost incomprehensible. To them he 
 was an Attic Muse, a silver trumpet, Solon, St. 
 Paul and Polycarp all in one. Certainly with his 
 nearly fifty books he was an indefatigable writer, 
 a stimulus to provincial scholars, but he was also 
 156 
 
ADVICE TO COLONISTS. 1 57 
 
 a stimulus to controversial intolerance. In his great- 
 est controversy, that with Roger Williams, which 
 produced perhaps his most important book «« The 
 Bloody Tenent Washed and Made White in the 
 Blood of the Lamb," the world has pronounced its 
 verdict: He was a great man, the foil to a greater. 
 
 ADVICE TO COLONISTS. 
 
 [From *'* God's Promise to H|is Plantation, " Lon- 
 don, 1630. A Sermon preached as a Farewell 
 to Winthrop's Company.] 
 
 Use 1 . To exhort all that are planted at home, 
 or intend to plant abroad, to look well to your plan- 
 tation, as you desire that the sons of wickedness 
 may not afflict you at home, nor enemies abroad, 
 look that you be right planted, and then you need not 
 to fear, you are safe enough : God hath spoken it, 
 I will plant them, and they shall not be moved, neither 
 shall the sons of wickedness afflict them any more. 
 
 Quest. What course would you have us take ? 
 
 Answ. Have special care that you ever have the 
 Ordinances planted amongst you, or else never look 
 for security. As soon as God's Ordinances cease, 
 your security ceaseth likewise ; but if God plant his 
 Ordinances among you, fear not, he will maintain 
 them. Isay 4. 5, 6. Upon all tbeir glory there 
 shall be a defence ; that is, upon all God's Ordinances: 
 for so was the Ark called the Glory of IsraeL 1 Sam. 
 4. 22. 
 
 Secondly, have a care to be implanted into the 
 
158 JOHN COTTON. 
 
 Ordinances, that the word may be ingrafted into you, 
 and you into it : If you take rooting in the Ordinances, 
 grow up thereby, bring forth much fruit, continue 
 and abide therein, then you are vineyard of red wine, 
 and the Lord will keep you, Lay 27. 2. 3. that no 
 sons of violence shall destroy you. Look into all 
 the stories whether divine or human, and you shall 
 never find that God ever rooted out a people that had 
 the Ordinances planted amongst them, and themselves 
 planted into the Ordinances : never did God suffer 
 such plants to be plucked up ; on all their glory shall 
 be a defence. 
 
 Thirdly, be not unmindful of our Jerusalem at 
 home, whether you leave us, or stay at home with 
 us. Oh pray for the peace of Jerusalem, they shall 
 prosper that love her. Psal. 122. 6. They shall 
 all be confounded and turned back that hate Sion, 
 Psal. 129. 5. As God continueth his presence 
 with us, (blessed be his name) so be ye present in 
 spirit with us, though absent in body : Forget not 
 the womb that bare you and the breast that gave you 
 suck. Even ducklings hatched under an hen, though 
 they take the water, yet will still have recourse to 
 the wing that hatched them : how much more should 
 chickens of the same feather, and yolk ? In the 
 amity and unity of brethren, the Lord hath not only 
 promised, but commanded a blessing, even life for- 
 evermore : Psal. 133. 1, 2. 
 
 Fourthly, go forth, every man that goeth, with a 
 public spirit, looking not on your own things only, 
 but also on the things of others : Phil. 2. 4. This 
 care of universal helpfulness was the prosperity of the 
 first plantation of the Primitive Church, Jets 4. 32. 
 
ADVICE TO COLONISTS. 1 59 
 
 Fifthly, have a tender care that you look well to 
 the plants that spring from you, that is, to your chil- 
 dren, that they do not degenerate as the Israelites did ; 
 after which they were vexed with afflictions on every 
 hand. How came this to pass? Jer. 2. 21. / 
 planted them a noble vine, holy, a right seed how 
 then art thou degenerate into a strange vine before 
 me ? Your ancestors were of a noble divine spirit, 
 but if they suffer their children to degenerate, to take 
 loose courses, then God will surely pluck you up : 
 Otherwise if men have a care to propagate the Ordi- 
 nances and Religion to their children after them, God 
 will plant them and not root them up. For want 
 of this, the seed of the repenting Ninhites was 
 rooted out. 
 
 Sixthly, and lastly, offend not the poor natives, 
 but as you partake in their land, so make them par- 
 takers of your precious faith : as you reap their tem- 
 porals, so feed them with your spirituals : win them 
 to the love of Christ, for whom Christ died. They 
 never yet refused the Gospel, and therefore more hope 
 they will now receive it. Who knoweth whether 
 God have reared this whole Plantation for such an 
 end : 
 
 Use 2. Secondly, for consolation to them that are 
 planted by God in any place, that find rooting and 
 establishing from God, this is a cause of much en- 
 couragement unto you, that what he hath planted he 
 will maintain, every plantation his right hand hath not 
 planted shall be rooted up, but his own plantation 
 shall prosper, and flourish. When he promiseth 
 peace and safety, what enemies shall be able to make 
 the promise of God of none effect ? Neglect not walls, 
 
l6o JOHN COTTON. 
 
 and bulwalks, and fortifications for your own defence ; 
 but ever let the name of the Lord be your strong 
 tower ; and the word of his promise the rock of your 
 refuge. His word 'that made heaven and earth will 
 not fail, till heaven and earth be no more. Amen. 
 
 [From a Letter written from Boston, Mass., 
 Dec. 3, 1634, TO Some English Clergyman 
 giving Reasons for the Emigration of Puritan 
 Clergymen.] 
 
 Our Saviour's warrant is clear and strong (as we 
 conceive) in our case, that when we are distressed 
 in our course in one country (ne quid dicam gravius,) 
 we should flee to another. To chose rather to 
 bear witness to the truth by imprisonment than by 
 banishment, is indeed sometimes God's way ; but 
 not in case men have ability of body and opportunity 
 to remove, and no necessary engagement for to stay. 
 Whilst Peter was young, he might gird himself and go 
 whither he would ; but when he was old and unfit 
 for travel, then indeed God called him rather to suffer 
 himself to be girt of others, and led along to prison 
 and to death. Nevertheless, in this point I conferred 
 with the chief of our people, and offered them to 
 bear witness to the truth I had preached and practised 
 amongst them, even unto bonds, if they conceived it 
 might be any confirmation to their faith and patience. 
 But they dissuaded me that course, as thinking it 
 better for themselves, and for me, and for the church 
 of God, to withdraw myself from the present storm, 
 and to minister in this country to such of their town as 
 
ADVICE TO COLONISTS. l6l 
 
 they had sent before hither, and such others as were 
 willing to go along with me, or to follow after me ; 
 the most of the {obliterated) choosing rather to dwell 
 in the (a line and a half obliterated) there. What 
 service myself or brother Hooker might do to our 
 people or other brethren in prison, (especially in close 
 prison, which was feared,) I suppose we both of us, 
 by God's help, do the same, and much more, and 
 with more freedom from hence, as occasion is offered ; 
 besides all our other service to the people here, which 
 yet is enough, and more than enough, to fill both 
 our hands, yea and the hands of many brethren more, 
 such as yourself, should God be pleased to make way 
 for your comfortable passage to us. To have tarried 
 in England for the end you mention, to appear in 
 defence you mention, to appear in defence of that 
 cause for which we were questioned, had been, as 
 we conceive it in our case, to limit witness-bearing 
 to the cause (which may be done more ways than 
 one,) to one only way, and that such a way as we 
 did not see God calling us unto. Did not Paul bear 
 witness against the Levitical ceremonies, and yet 
 choose rather to depart quickly out of Hierusalem, 
 because the most of the Jews would not receive his 
 testimony concerning Christ in that question, than to 
 stay at Hierusalem to bear witness to that cause unto 
 prison and death ? Not that we came hither to strive 
 against ceremonies, or to fight against shadows ; there 
 is no need of further labor in that course. Our people 
 here desire to worship God in spirit and in truth ; 
 and our people left in England know as well the 
 grounds and reasons of our suffering against these 
 things, as our sufferings themselves ; which we be- 
 
I 62 JOHN COTTON. 
 
 seech the Lord to accept and bless in our blessed 
 Saviour. How far our testimony there hath pre- 
 vailed with any others to search more seriously into 
 the cause, we do rather observe in thankfulness and 
 silence, than speak of to the prejudice of our brethren. 
 
 A DEFENCE OF PERSECUTION. 
 
 [From "An Answer of Mr. John Cotton of 
 Boston in New England, to the Aforesaid 
 Arguments against Persecution for Cause of 
 Conscience," printed in Williams' "Bloody 
 Tenent."] 
 
 Your second head of reasons is taken from the 
 profession and practice of famous princes, King 
 James, Stephen of Poland, King of Bohemia. 
 
 Whereunto a treble answer may briefly be 
 returned. 
 
 First, we willingly acknowledge, that none is to 
 be persecuted at all, no more than they may be 
 oppressed for righteousness sake. 
 
 Again, we acknowledge that none is to be pun- 
 ished for his conscience, though misinformed, as 
 hath been said, unless his error be fundamental, or 
 seditiously and turbulently promoted, and that after 
 due conviction of his conscience, that it may appear 
 he is not punished for his conscience, but for sinning 
 against his conscience. 
 
 Furthermore, we acknowledge none is to be con- 
 strained to believe or profess the true religion till he 
 be convinced in judgment of the truth of it : but yet 
 
A DEFENCE OF PERSECUTION. 1 63 
 
 restrained he may (be) from blaspheming the truth, 
 and from seducing any unto pernicious errors. 
 
 2. We answer, what princes profess or practice, 
 is not a rule of conscience : they many times tolerate 
 that in point of State policy, which cannot justly be 
 tolerated in point of true Christianity. 
 
 Again, princes many times tolerate offenders out 
 of very necessity, when the offenders are either too 
 many, or too mighty for them to punish, in which 
 respect David tolerated Joab and his murthers, but 
 against his will. 
 
 3. We answer further, that for those three princes 
 named by you, who tolerated religion, we can name 
 you more and greater who have not tolerated Here- 
 tics and Schismatics, notwithstanding their pretence 
 of conscience, and arrogating the crown of martyrdom 
 to their sufferings. 
 
 Constantine the Great at the request of the general 
 Council of Nice, banished Arius with some of his 
 fellows. Sozom. lib. i. Eccles. Hist. cap. 19. 20. 
 The same Constantine made a severe law against the 
 Donatists. And the like proceedings against them 
 were used by Valentinian, Gratian, and Theodosius, 
 as Augustine reporteth in Epist. 166. Only Julian 
 the Apostate granted liberty to Heretics as well as to 
 Pagans, that he might by tolerating all weeds to grow, 
 choke the vitals of Christianity, which was also the 
 practice and sin of Valens the Arian. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth, as famous for her government as 
 any of the former, it is well known what laws she 
 made and executed against Papists. Yea and King 
 James (one of your own witnesses) though he was 
 slow in proceeding against Papists (as you say) for 
 
164 JOHN COTTON. 
 
 conscience sake, yet you are not ignorant how sharply 
 and severely he punished those whom the malignant 
 world calleth Puritans, men of more conscience and 
 better faith than he tolerated. 
 
 I come now to your third and last argument, taken 
 from the judgment of ancient and later writers, yea 
 even of Papists themselves, who have condemned per- 
 secution for conscience sake. 
 
 You begin with Hilary, whose testimony we might 
 admit without any prejudice to the truth : for it is 
 true, the Christian Church did not persecute, but is 
 persecuted. But to excommunicate an Heretic, is not 
 to persecute ; that is, it is not to punish an innocent, 
 but a culpable and damnable person, and that not for 
 conscience, but for persisting in error against light of 
 conscience, whereof it hath been convinced. 
 
 It is true also what he saith, that neither the Apostles 
 did, nor may we propagate (the) Christian Religion 
 by the sword : but if Pagans cannot be won by the 
 word, they are not to be compelled by the sword. 
 Nevertheless, this hindreth not, but if they or any 
 others should blaspheme the true God, and his true 
 religion, they ought to be severely punished : and no 
 less do they deserve, if they seduce from the truth to 
 damnable heresies or idolatry. 
 
SCRIPTURAL EXPOSITION. 165 
 
 SPECIMENS OF SCRIPTURAL EXPOSI- 
 TION. 
 
 [From "A Brief Exposition of the Whole Book 
 of Canticles, or Song of Solomon." London, 
 1642.] 
 
 [From Chapter II. J 
 
 Stay me with flagons and comfort me Verse j. 
 with apples , for I am sick of love. ~\ I, the 
 Church is here faint and sick, and ready 
 to swoon, for desire of further fellowship 
 with Christ, and for her own help desir- 
 eth, 
 
 First, Flagons of wine to stay her. 
 
 Secondly, Apples to comfort her ; as 
 indeed apples do comfort the heart and 
 stomach, prevents swooning, and restrains 
 poison: * Thus Daniel, through abundance * Femelius, 
 of Revelations was faint and sick, and a physician, 
 desirous of more clear knowledge of his 
 visions, and of the Church's deliverance, 
 and round the j~ Angel ready to refresh and f Dan. 8. 
 strengthen him : and the other members 2 7- and IO_ 
 of the Church feeling such sweet taste of I( -l iq 
 Christ's presence amongst them in the 
 captivity, were (doubtless) earnestly desi- 
 rous of more full enjoying him perfectly, 
 
 First, by the Ministry of the Prophets, 
 as by flagons of wine. 
 
 Secondly, by the Magistracy of Daniel Dan. 2. 
 and his fellows, whom the King set up 4 8 > 49- 
 
1 66 JOHN COTTON. 
 
 for inferior magistrates, as by apples, the 
 fruit of the apple trees. 
 
 [From Chapter IV.] 
 
 Tby hair as a flock of Goats that 
 appear from mount Gilead.~\ 
 
 Hair, though it hang long upon the 
 head, yet it may in time either, 
 
 First, fall of itself. 
 
 Secondly, be cut off: so were the com- 
 mon Christians of that time (as it were) 
 hair, 
 
 i. For multitude. 
 
 2. Hanging on Christ the head. 
 
 3. Falling many of them from him : 
 *Joh. 6. First,* either of themselves, Or 
 
 66 - Secondly, cut off by the practices of 
 
 * Mat. 27. the Priests :* hence it was that Jesus durst 
 2 °- not commit himself to them. 
 
 Joh. 12.42. As a p ck f Goats ,~] which are wont, 
 Toh. 2. 23 First, to assemble themselves in com- 
 
 -25. panies : so did the people gather after 
 
 Christ. 
 
 Secondly, to be without a shepherd, as 
 *Mat. 9. this people were.* 
 
 3 6 - Thirdly, to feed afar off, and that some- 
 
 what dangerously, upon Rocks. 
 *Mar. 8. g tne p e0 p] e cam e from far to hear 
 
 * Toh 9 Christ,* and were in danger for feeding 
 X2. on him.* 
 
SCRIPTURAL EXPOSITION. 167 
 
 [From Chapter V.] 
 
 Verse 1 1 . His bead is as the most fine gold, his 
 locks are bushy, and black as a raven. 
 
 His head is as the most fine gold."] Christ comes 
 now to be described in his members more particu- 
 larly : This head of gold Christ shewed on the 
 earth in the person of Frederick, the second Emperor 
 of Rome, a Prince of much purity and worth, as an 
 head of the Church of fine gold : He contended with 
 many Popes about the headship of the Church, ad- 
 vanced the headship of Christ and of himself, his 
 Vice-gerents, above the counterfeit head of the Pope's 
 Supremacy. He wrastled for Christ against them 
 with much difficulty, yet prevailed ; so that even in 
 the popish schools his election of God was agreed and 
 condescended unto by sundry. 
 
 His locks are bushy, or curled, and black as a 
 raven,] Curled black hair is a sign of heat and 
 courage, and wit in him that it groweth upon : such 
 was the Emperor himself, and such were the common 
 Christians of that age that did depend upon their 
 Emperor ; they stuck close to him ; learned men 
 with wit, more than former ages had yielded, and 
 soldiers with courage maintained his person and 
 
1 68 JOHN COTTON. 
 
 WHO SHOULD BEAR THE KEYS. 
 
 [From -THE | KEYES | Of the Kingdom of | 
 HEAVEN, | and | Power thereof, according to 
 the | Word of God. | By | That learned and 
 Judicious Divine, | Mr. Iohn Cotton, Teacher of 
 the Church | at Boston, in New England, | Tend- 
 ing to reconcile some present differences about | 
 DISCIPLINE," etc. London, 1644.] 
 
 [Chap. VII.] 
 
 Obj. 2. The body of the Church is the Spouse 
 of Christ, the Lamb's wife, and ought not the wife 
 to rule the servants and stewards in the house, 
 rather than they her ? Is it not meet the Keys 
 of Authority should hang at her girdle rather than 
 at theirs ? 
 
 Answ. There is a difference to be put between 
 Queens, Princesses, Ladies of great Honor (such as 
 the Church is to Christ, Psal. 45. 9), and country 
 huswives, poor men's wives. Queens and great per- 
 sons have several offices and officers for every busi- 
 ness and service about the house, as Chamberlains, 
 Stewards, Treasurers, Comptrollers, Ushers, Bailiffs, 
 Grooms, and Porters, who have all the authority of 
 ordering the affairs of their lord's house on their 
 hands. There is not a key left in the Queen's 
 hand of any office, but only of power and liberty to 
 call for what she wanteth according to the King's 
 royal allowance ; which if she exceed, the officers 
 have power to restrain her by order from the King. 
 
WHO SHOULD BEAR THE KEYS. 1 69 
 
 But country huswives, and poor men's wives, whose 
 husbands have no Officers, Bailiffs, or Stewards, to 
 oversee and order their estates, they may carry the 
 keys of any office at their own girdles, which the 
 husband keepeth not in his own hand, not because 
 poor huswives have greater authority in the house 
 than queens ; but because of their poverty and mean 
 estate, they are fain to be instead of many servants 
 to their husbands. 
 
 OF BROWNISTS, ETC. 
 
 [From the way of Congregational Churches 
 Clared, by Mr. John Cotton, London, 1648.] 
 
 [Part I. Chap. II.] 
 
 ... As there is a vast difference between the 
 Episcopacy of England, and the Superintendency of 
 Germany (the one ruling by Monarchical Power, 
 the other by the consent of the Aristocratical Pres- 
 bytery:) so neither is there such correspondency be- 
 tween the German Anabaptism, and the English 
 Brownism, as to make Brownism a native branch of 
 Anabaptism. 
 
 . . . Answ. The dissolution of ice and snow 
 into water, doth indeed argue strongly their original 
 from water, because they are easily resolved into it 
 without putrefaction or corruption. But so is not 
 the Separatist resolved into a German Anabaptist, 
 without a further degree of corruption and putrefac- 
 tion. It is no argument a man is bred of worms, 
 because he is next resolved into worms ; for he is 
 
170 JOHN COTTON. 
 
 not so resolved without putrefaction. Say not, a 
 man is resolved at last into dust from whence he was 
 first taken ; and yet the resolution is not made with- 
 out putrefaction. For man is not made of dust natu- 
 rally, but by a transcendent creating power above 
 Nature. But the Dissuader maketh the Separation a 
 native branch of Anabaptism. 
 
 Besides, I suppose, it is not an obvious thing to 
 hear of an Anabaptist turned Separatist, though some 
 Separatists have turned Anabaptists ; which argueth 
 there is not such a mutual frequent transition from 
 the one to the other, as is yearly found of ice and 
 snow into water, and of water into ice or snow 
 again. . . . 
 
 [Part I. Chap. III. Sec. III.] 
 
 Touching the Line of the Pedigree of the Independents in New 
 England. 
 
 . . . That the Separatists were our fathers we have 
 justly denied it above ; seeing they neither begat us to 
 God nor to the Church nor to their Schism. That 
 we are (through Grace) begotten to God and to his 
 Church, we receive (many of us) from the blessing 
 of Christ upon the Ministry of England. That we 
 grew weary of the burden of Episcopacy and Con- 
 formity we received from the Word of God by the 
 help of the Nonconformists there. That we laid 
 aside the Book of Common Prayer we received from 
 the serious meditation of the Second Commandment 
 and not from the writings of the Separatists, though 
 they also had taken up the same conclusion upon 
 
WHO SHOULD BEAR THE KEYS. 171 
 
 other premises. The particular visible Church of a 
 congregation to be the first subject of the power of 
 Keys we received by the light of the Word from Mr. 
 Parker, Mr. Baynes and Dr. Ames, from whom also 
 (from two of them at least) we received light out of 
 the Word for the matter of the visible Church to be 
 visible saints ; and for the form of it to be a mutual 
 covenant, whether an explicit or implicit profession 
 of faith, and subjection to the Gospel of Christ in the 
 society of the Church or Presbytery thereof. And 
 these be the chief doctrines and practices of our way 
 so far as it difFereth from other Reformed Churches, 
 and having received these not from the Separatists 
 but from the Lord Jesus by gracious saints and faith- 
 ful witnesses of Jesus the consanguinity of our tenets 
 with any the like found among the Separatists will 
 not demonstrate the Separatists to be our fathers. 
 
 [Part I. Chap. V. Sec. II.] 
 
 Of the Fruits of Congregational Discipline in our Churches in 
 New England. 
 
 For the fruits of congregational discipline as it hath 
 been exercised amongst us (though in much weakness) 
 the Lord hath not left us without testimony from 
 heaven : 
 
 First, in making these churches a little sanctuary 
 (through his grace) to many thousands of his ser- 
 vants who fled over hither to avoid the unsupport- 
 able pressures of their consciences by the Episcopal 
 tyranny. 
 
 Secondly, in blessing the ministery of our preach- 
 
172 JOHN COTTON. 
 
 ers here with like fruits of conversion (as in our native 
 country) of sundry elder and younger persons, who 
 came over hither no out of respect to conscience, 
 or spiritual ends, but out of respect to friends or 
 outward enlargements : but have here found that 
 grace, which they sought not for. 
 
 Thirdly, in discovering and suppressing those 
 errors of Antinomians, and Familists, which brake 
 forth here amongst us, and might have proceeded to 
 the subversion of many souls, had not the blessing of 
 Christ upon the vigilancy of Congregational disci- 
 pline, either prevented or removed, or healed the 
 same. 
 
 Fourthly, it hath been also a testimony from 
 Heaven of God's blessing upon our way, that many 
 thousands in England in all the Quarters of the King- 
 dom, have been awakened to consider the cause of 
 Church discipline, for which we have suffered this 
 hazardous and voluntary banishment into this remote 
 wilderness : and have therefore by letters conferred 
 with us about it, and been (through mercy) so far 
 enlightened, as to desire an utter subversion of Epis- 
 copacy, and conformity, yea and the Honorable 
 Houses of Parliament, the Lord hath been pleased 
 to help them so far to consider of our sufferings, and 
 of the causes thereof, as to conclude a necessity of 
 reformation of the ecclesiastical state (among other 
 causes) by reason of the necessity put upon so many 
 English subjects to depart from all our employments 
 and enjoyments in our native country for conscience 
 sake. 
 
MR. THOMAS HOOKER. 173 
 
 On my Reverend and dear Brother, M T Thomas 
 
 Hooker, late Pastor of the Church at Hartford on 
 
 Connectiquot. 
 
 To see three things was holy Austin's wish, 
 Rome in her Flower, Christ Jesus in the Flesh, 
 And Paul i'th Pulpit ; Lately men might see, 
 Two first, and more, in Hooker's Ministry. 
 
 Zion in Beauty, is a fairer sight, 
 
 Than Rome in Flower, with all her Glory dight: 
 
 Yet Zion's Beauty did most clearly shine, 
 
 In Hooker's Rule, and Doctrine; both Divine. 
 
 Christ in the Spirit, is more than Christ in Flesh, 
 Our Souls to quicken, and our States to bless : 
 Yet Christ in Spirit brake forth mightily, 
 In Faithful Hooker's searching Ministry. 
 
 Paul in the Pulpit, Hooker could not reach, 
 Yet did He Christ in Spirit so lively Preach : 
 That living Hearers thought He did inherit 
 A double Portion of Paul's lively spirit. 
 
 Prudent in Rule, in Argument quick, full : 
 Fervent in Prayer, in Preaching powerful : 
 That well did learned Ames record bear, 
 The like to Him He never wont to hear. 
 
 'Twas of Geneva's Worthies said, with wonder, 
 (Those Worthies Three: ) Farell was wont to thunder; 
 Viret, like Rain, on tender grass to shower, 
 But Calvin, lively Oracles to pour. y 
 
174 JOHN COTTON. 
 
 All these in Hooker's spirit did remain : 
 A Son of Thunder, and a shower of Rain, 
 A pourer forth of lively Oracles, 
 In saving souls, the sum of miracles. 
 
 Now blessed Hooker, thou art set on high, 
 
 Above the thankless world, and cloudy sky : 
 
 Do thou of all thy labor reap the Crown, 
 
 Whilst we here reap the seed, which thou hast sowen. 
 
TRIBUTES TO COTTON. 
 
 The early New England divines, as is well known, 
 formed what Dr. Holmes was fond of terming a 
 Brahmin caste. They were thoroughly banded to- 
 gether and upheld their theocracy in every way pos- 
 sible, among others by paying sincere, if extravagant 
 tributes to those of their number who had been gathered 
 to their reward in heaven. Several of these tributes will 
 be given in our pages. John Cotton, who has just 
 appeared as an elegist of his friend Hooker, was espe- 
 cially honored by his surviving brethren, and we 
 present three representative specimens of their hyper- 
 bolical praise. The first is from the short sketch by 
 the Rev. Samuel Whiting (1597-1679) of Lynn; 
 the second from the longer life by the Rev. John 
 Norton (1606-1663), progenitor of a distinguished 
 New England family and famous as a theologian ; 
 the third, in verse, is the production of the Rev. 
 Benjamin Woodbridge (1622-1684), the first gradu- 
 ate of Harvard, who is not strictly an American 
 writer since he resided in the country only a few 
 years. 
 
 [From Whiting's Sketch.] 
 
 I could speak much more ; but at this present want 
 strength. But this I say ; he may be a pattern to us 
 
 '75 
 
176 JOHN COTTON. 
 
 all, and happy they that come nearest him in those 
 things wherein he most followed Christ. I am not 
 like to live to see such another in New England, 
 though I know God is able to double the spirit of 
 that Elias upon him that succeeds him, and upon 
 many others in our native country and here. It is 
 well for both the Bostons that they have had such a 
 light, if they walk in the light, and continue in that 
 word of Christ and light of grace and truth, that he 
 held out to them. I end all with that of our Saviour 
 concerning John Baptist, " he was a burning and 
 a shining light ' ' ; and God grant the after words be 
 not verified of both Englands and both Bostons. I 
 speak my fears, but would be glad to entertain better 
 hopes. 
 
 [From Norton's 5f Abel being Dead yet Speaketh ; 
 or the Life and Death of Mr. John Cot- 
 ton," London, 1658.] 
 
 . . . He was a general Scholar, studious to know 
 all things, the want whereof might in one of his pro- 
 fession be denominated ignorance ; and piously igno- 
 rant of those things, the nescience whereof made him 
 more learned. One man is not born to all things. 
 No calling (besides divine requisites) calleth for more 
 abilities, or a larger measure of humane knowledge, 
 than the ministry ; deservedly therefore is his praise 
 great in all the churches, that he not only gave him- 
 self thereunto, but exceeded many that had done 
 virtuously therein. The greater part of the Encyclo- 
 paideia he excelled in. Those arts which the uni- 
 
TRIBUTES TO COTTON. I 77 
 
 versity requireth such a proficiency from her graduates 
 in, he both digested and refined by his more accurate 
 knowledge of them. He was a good Hebrician, in 
 Greek a critick, and could with great facility both 
 speak and write Latin in a pure and elegant Cicero- 
 nian style ; a good historian, no stranger to the 
 Fathers, Councils, or School-men ; abundantly exer- 
 cised in commentators of all sorts. His library was 
 great, his reading and learning unanswerable, himself 
 a living and better library. Though he was a con- 
 stant student, yet he had all his learning out of his 
 books. He was a man of much communion with 
 God, and acquaintance with his own heart, observing 
 the daily passages of his life. He had a deep sight 
 into the mystery of Gods grace, and man's corrup- 
 tion, and large apprehensions of these things. . . . 
 With Solon, as he grew old, so was he con- 
 tinually a learner; and with Quintilian he terminated 
 his life and his reading both together. The constant 
 work of his ministry was great, if not too great for 
 one man. A candle may spend too fast, and the 
 improvement of the light whilst it is yet burning 
 admits of degrees ; besides his preaching in season 
 and out of season, he was daily pressed, if not op- 
 pressed, with the care and service of the churches, 
 attendance to personal cases, and manifold other em- 
 ployments inevitably put upon him, both from abroad 
 and at home; whence the time remaining (which is 
 not a little to be lamented) was insufficient to attend 
 doctrinal and especial polemical scripts, such as the 
 cause of the truth, occurrents of Providence and his 
 peculiar engagements called for. He was free to give 
 his judgment when desired, but declined arbitration 
 
178 JOHN COTTON. 
 
 and umpirage in civil differences between man and 
 man as heterogeneous both to his office and spirit. 
 His course, like that of celestial bodies, was always 
 in motion, but still careful to keep within his proper 
 sphere. Calvin was not more solicitous not to be 
 found idle ; no man more vigilant to contain himself 
 within his measure. It was religion to him both to 
 run and to run lawfully within the white lines and 
 boundaries of his agonistical race. He was doing, 
 and so doing. . . . 
 
 He began the Sabbath at evening, therefore then 
 performed family-duty after supper, being larger than 
 ordinary in exposition. After which he catechised 
 his children and servants, and then returned into his 
 study. The morning following, family-worship being 
 ended, he retired into his study until the bell called 
 him away. Upon his return from meeting he re- 
 turned again into his study (the place of his labor 
 and prayer), unto his private devotion ; where, hav- 
 ing a small repast carried him up for his dinner, he 
 continued till the tolling of the bell. The public 
 service being over, he withdrew for a space to his 
 prementioned oratory for his sacred addresses unto 
 God, as in the forenoon, then came down, repeated 
 the sermon in the family, prayed, after supper sung a 
 Psalm, and towards bed-time betaking himself again to 
 his study, he closed the day with prayer. Thus he 
 spent the Sabbath continually. 
 
BENJAMIN WOODBRIDGE'S ELEGY. 1 79 
 
 BENJAMIN WOODBRIDGE'S ELEGY. 
 
 Upon the Tomb of the Most Reverend Mr. 
 John Cotton. [From Cotton Mather's 
 U Magnalia."] 
 
 Here lies magnanimous humility ; 
 
 Majesty, meekness ; Christian apathy 
 
 On soft affections ; liberty in thrall ; 
 
 A noble spirit, servant unto all ; 
 
 Learning's great masterpiece, who yet would sit 
 
 As a disciple, at his scholars' feet : 
 
 A simple serpent or serpentine dove, 
 
 Made up of wisdom, innocence and love : 
 
 Neatness embroider' d with itself alone, 
 
 And civils canonized in a gown ; 
 
 Embracing old and young, and low and high, 
 
 Ethics embodied in divinity ; 
 
 Ambitious to be lowest, and to raise 
 
 His brethren's honor on his own decays ; 
 
 (Thus doth the sun retire into his bed, 
 
 That being gone the stars may show their head ;) 
 
 Could wound at argument without division, 
 
 Cut to the quick, and yet make no incision : 
 
 Ready to sacrifice domestic notions 
 
 To churches' peace and ministers' devotions : 
 
 Himself, indeed (and singular in that) 
 
 Whom all admired he admired not : 
 
 Liv'd like an angel of a mortal birth, 
 
 Convers'd in heaven while he was on earth : 
 
 Though not, as Moses, radiant with night 
 
 Whose glory dazzl'd the beholder's sight, 
 
180 JOHN COTTON. 
 
 Yet so divinely beautified, you 'Id count 
 
 He had been born and bred upon the Mount ! 
 
 A living, breathing Bible ; tables where 
 
 Both covenants at large engraven were ; 
 
 Gospel and law in ? s heart had each its column ; 
 
 His head an index to the sacred volume ; 
 
 His very name a title-page ; and next 
 
 His life a commentary on the text. 
 
 O, what a monument of glorious worth, 
 
 When, in a new edition, he comes forth, 
 
 Without erratas, may we think he'll be 
 
 In leaves and covers of eternity ! 
 
 A man of might, at heavenly eloquence, 
 
 To fix the ear, and charm the conscience ; 
 
 As if Appollos were reviv'd in him, 
 
 Or he had learned of a seraphim ; 
 
 Spake many tongues in one ; one voice and sense 
 
 Wrought joy and sorrow, fear and confidence : 
 
 Rocks rent before him, blind receiv'd their sight ; 
 
 Souls levell'd to the dunghill, stood upright : 
 
 Infernal furies burst with rage to see 
 
 Their prisoners captiv'd into liberty : 
 
 A star that in our eastern England rose, 
 
 Thence hurri' d by the blast of stupid foes, 
 
 Whose foggy darkness and benumbed senses 
 
 Brookt not his dazzling fervent influences : 
 
 Thus did he move on earth, from east to west ; 
 
 There he went down, and up to heaven for rest. 
 
 Nor from himself, whilst living, doth he vary, 
 
 His death hath made him an ubiquitary : 
 
 Where is his sepulchre is hard to say, 
 
 Who, in a thousand sepulchres, doth lay 
 
 (Their hearts, I mean, whom he hath left behind) 
 
BENJAMIN WOODBRIDGE'S ELEGY. l8l 
 
 In them his sacred reliques, now, enshrin'd. 
 
 But let his mourning flock be comforted, 
 
 Though Moses be, yet Joshua is not dead : 
 
 I mean renowned Norton ; worthy he, 
 
 Successor to our Moses, is to be. 
 
 O happy Israel in America, 
 
 In such a Moses, such a Joshua ! 
 
ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 Roger Williams, the founder of Rhode Island, was 
 born in Wales in 1599, and died in the colony he 
 had founded in 1683, one of the longest lived of the 
 New England pioneers. Of his family and early 
 life we know little ; but he had an influential patron 
 in the great lawyer Coke, who got him admission to 
 the famous Charterhouse School in 1621, and also to 
 Pembroke College, Cambridge, where he was gradu- 
 ated. He took orders in the English Church, but 
 being intimately associated with Cotton and Hooker 
 joined the advanced Puritans, and leaving England in 
 1630 reached Boston early the next year. Though 
 esteemed both as a preacher and a scholar he soon fell 
 under suspicion of heresy. A few months after his 
 installation as assistant at Salem he was constrained to 
 seek shelter in the relatively tolerant Plymouth, where 
 also he was made assistant pastor and formed friendly 
 connections with Indian chiefs, whose language he 
 quickly acquired. But Plymouth, too, proved narrow 
 for independent thought, and after two years he re- 
 turned to Salem with some devoted adherents. Soon 
 after began his memorable struggle for liberty of con- 
 science, complicated by an unpopular assertion of the 
 rights of the Indians to their land. He was charged 
 with heresy, and ordered to quit the colony. It was 
 even proposed to arrest him and send him to England, 
 182 
 
ROGER WILLIAMS. 183 
 
 but he escaped this by a flight through the wilderness. 
 He obtained a grant of land from the Narragansett 
 chiefs, Canonicus and Miantonomoh, on the present 
 site of Providence, where, with friends from Salem, 
 he settled in June, 1636. His influence over the 
 Indians was of immense value to all the New England 
 colonies in the Pequot War. He went to England 
 in 1643, and obtained a charter for Rhode Island the 
 following year, publishing while abroad a Key itito the 
 Language of America, a linguistic work of much 
 value and his famous Bloody Tenetit of Persecution for 
 Cause of Conscience. This was speedily answered by 
 John Cotton in The Bloody Tenent Washed and 
 Made White in the Blood of the Lamb (1647), to 
 which Williams replied effectively in The Bloody Ten- 
 ent Made yet More Bloody by Mr. Cotton's Endeavor 
 to Wash it White (1652). The controversy was, 
 however, conducted with rare urbanity on both sides. 
 Williams also wrote, while on his first visit to England, 
 an admirable reply to the reasons given for his ban- 
 ishment, in Mr. Cotton' s Letter Examined and An- 
 swered. On his return to the colonies he secured a 
 treaty with the Narragansetts, and took an active part 
 in the government of his colony in whose interest he 
 again visited England (1 651-1654). The charter 
 that he secured was so liberal that the Revolution could 
 leave it unaltered. His last years were occupied 
 largely by a zealous controversy with Quakers, whom, 
 however, he steadfastly refused to persecute. For 
 three days the old man of seventy-three wrestled 
 with them in the Quaker meeting-house at Newport, 
 whither he had rowed himself from Providence for 
 the occasion. His record of this is an unreadable 
 
184 ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 quarto with the genial title George Fox Digged out of 
 bis Burrowes (1676). Williams combined, in singu- 
 lar degree, gentleness and strength, mobility and per- 
 manence, a controversial and a tolerant spirit. As a 
 writer he is unequal, as most of his contemporaries 
 were, but many passages of great beauty and elo- 
 quence may be culled from his works. Some of his 
 letters are especially noteworthy for the dignity and 
 nobility of the thought expressed. His writings are 
 republished by the Narragansett Club. 
 
THE 
 
 BLOUDY TENENT, 
 
 Of Persecution, for cause of 
 
 Conscience, discussed, in 
 
 A Conference betweene 
 
 TRUTH and PEACE 
 
 WHO, 
 
 In all tender Affection, present to the High 
 Court of Parliamenty (as the Result of their 
 Discourse) these, (amongst other Passages 
 of highest consideration. 
 
 Printed in the Year 1644. 
 
TO EVERY COURTEOUS READER. 1 87 
 
 TO EVERY COURTEOUS READER. 
 [From the Above.] 
 
 While I plead the cause of truth and innocence 
 against the bloody doctrine of persecution for cause of 
 conscience, I judge it not unfit to give alarm to my- 
 self, and all men to prepare to be persecuted or hunted 
 for cause of conscience. 
 
 Whether thou standest charged with ten or but two 
 talents, if thou huntest any for cause of conscience, 
 how canst thou say thou followest the Lamb of God 
 who so abhorred that practice ? 
 
 If Paul, if Jesus Christ were present here at Lon- 
 don, and the question were proposed what religion 
 would they approve of: the Papists, Prelatists, Pres- 
 byterians, Independents, &c. w r ould each say, Of 
 mine, of mine. 
 
 But put the second question, if one of the several 
 sorts should by major vote attain the sword of steel : 
 what weapons doth Christ Jesus authorize them to 
 fight with in his cause ? Do not all men hate the 
 persecutor, and every conscience true or false com- 
 plain of cruelty, tyranny ? &c. 
 
 Two mountains of crying guilt lie heavy upon the 
 backs of all that name the name of Christ in the eyes 
 of Jews, Turks, and Pagans. 
 
 First, the blasphemies of their idolatrous inventions, 
 superstitions, and most unchristian conversations. 
 
 Secondly, the bloody irreligious and inhuman op- 
 pressions, and destructions under the mask or veil of 
 the name of Christ, &c. 
 
!88 ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 how like is the jealous Jehovah, the consuming 
 fire, to end these present slaughters in a greater slaugh- 
 ter of the holy witnesses ? Rev. 1 1 . 
 
 Six years preaching of so much truth of Christ (as 
 that time afforded in King Edward's days) kindles 
 the flames of Queen Mary's bloody persecutions. 
 
 Who can now but expect that after so many scores 
 of years preaching and professing of more truth, and 
 amongst so many great contentions amongst the very 
 best of Protestants, a fiery furnace should be heat, 
 and who sees not now the fires kindling ? 
 
 1 confess I have little hopes till those flames are over, 
 that this discourse against the doctrine of persecution 
 for cause of conscience should pass current (I say not 
 amongst the wolves and lions, but even amongst the 
 sheep of Christ themselves) yet liber avi animam meam t 
 I have not hid within my breast my soul's belief: and 
 although sleeping on the bed either of the pleasures or 
 profits of sin thou thinkest thy conscience bound to 
 smite at him that dares to waken thee ? Yet in the 
 midst of all these civil and spiritual wars (I hope we 
 shall agree in these particulars. ) 
 
 First, however the proud (upon the advantage of an 
 higher earth or ground) o'erlook the poor and cry 
 out schismatics, heretics, &c. shall blasphemers and 
 seducers 'scape unpunished? &c. Yet there is a 
 sorer punishment in the Gospel for despising of Christ 
 than Moses, even when the despiser of Moses was put 
 to death without mercy, Heb. 10. 28, 29. He that 
 believeth not shall be damned, Mark 16. 16. 
 
 Secondly, whatever worship, ministry, ministration, 
 the best and purest are practiced without faith and 
 true persuasion that they are the true institutions of 
 
TO EVERY COURTEOUS READER. 1 89 
 
 God, they are sin, sinful worships, ministries, &c. 
 And however in civil things we may be servants unto 
 men, yet in divine and spiritual things the poorest 
 peasant must disdain the service of the highest prince. 
 Be ye not the servants of men, 1 Cor. 14. (vii : 23.) 
 
 Thirdly, without search and trial no man attains this 
 faith and right persuasion, 1 Thes. 5 : Try all things. 
 
 In vain have English Parliaments permitted English 
 Bibles in the poorest English houses, and the simplest 
 man or woman to search the Scriptures, if yet against 
 their souls' persuasion from the Scripture, they should 
 be forced (as if they lived in Spain or Rome itself 
 without the sight of a Bible) to believe as the Church 
 believes. 
 
 Fourthly, having tried, we must hold fast, 1 . Thes- 
 sal. 5. upon the loss of a crown, Revel. 13 (iii : 11.) 
 we must not let go for all the flea bitings of the present 
 afflictions, &c. having bought truth dear, we must 
 not sell it cheap, not the least grain of it for the whole 
 world, no not for the saving of souls, though our own 
 most precious ; least of all for the bitter sweetening 
 of a little vanishing pleasure. 
 
 For a little puff of credit and reputation from the 
 changeable breath of uncertain sons of men. 
 
 For the broken bags of riches on eagles' wings : for 
 a dream of these, any or all of these which on our death- 
 bed vanish and leave tormenting stings behind them : 
 Oh, how much better is it from the love of truth, from 
 the love of the Father of lights, from whence it comes, 
 from the love of the Son of God, who is the way and 
 truth, to say as he, John 18. 37 : For this end was 
 I born, and for this end came I into the world that 
 I might bear witness to the truth. 
 
190 ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 [From the Same. Chapter I.] 
 
 Truth. — In what dark corner of the world 
 (sweet Peace) are we two met ? How hath this 
 present evil world banished me from all the coasts 
 and quarters of it ? And how hath the righteous 
 God in judgment taken thee from the earth ? 
 Rev. 6. 4. 
 
 Peace. — 'Tis lamentably true (blessed Truth) 
 the foundations of the world have long been out of 
 course : the gates of earth and hell have conspired 
 together to intercept our joyful meeting and our holy 
 kisses. With what a wearied, tired wing have I 
 flown over nations, kingdoms, cities, towns to find 
 out precious Truth ? 
 
 Truth. — The like inquiries in my flights and 
 travels have I made for Peace, and still am told, she 
 hath left the earth, and fled to heaven. 
 
 Peace. — Dear Truth, what is the earth but a 
 dungeon of darkness, where Truth is not ? 
 
 Truth. — And what's the Peace thereof but a 
 fleeting dream, thine ape and counterfeit ? 
 
 [From the Same. Chapter II.] 
 
 Truth. — Sweet Peace, what hast thou there ? 
 
 Peace. — Arguments against persecution for cause 
 of conscience. 
 
 Truth. — And what there ? 
 
 Peace. — An answer to such arguments, contrarily 
 maintaining such persecution for cause of conscience. 
 
TO EVERY COURTEOUS READER. 191 
 
 Truth. — These arguments against such persecu- 
 tion, and the answer pleading for it, written (as love 
 hopes) from godly intentions, hearts, and hands, yet 
 in a marvellous different style and manner. The 
 arguments against persecution in milk, the answer 
 for it (as I may say) in blood. 
 
 The author of these arguments (against persecu- 
 tion) (as I have been informed) being committed 
 by some then in power, close prisoner to Newgate, 
 for the witness of some truths of Jesus, and having 
 not the use of pen and ink, wrote these arguments in 
 milk, in sheets of paper, brought to him by the 
 woman his keeper, from a friend in London, as the 
 stopples of his milk bottle. 
 
 In such paper written with milk nothing will 
 appear, but the way of reading it by fire being 
 known to this friend who received the papers, he 
 transcribed and kept together the papers, although 
 the author himself could not correct, nor view what 
 himself had written. 
 
 It was in milk, tending to soul nourishment, even 
 for babes and sucklings in Christ. 
 
 It was in milk, spiritually white, pure and inno- 
 cent, like those white horses of the word of truth and 
 meekness, and the white linen or armor of righteous- 
 ness, in the army of Jesus. Rev. 6. & 19. 
 
 It was in milk, soft, meek, peaceable and gentle, 
 tending both to the peace of souls, and the peace of 
 States and Kingdoms. 
 
 Peace. — The answer (though I hope out of 
 milky pure intentions) is returned in blood : bloody 
 and slaughterous conclusions ; bloody to the souls of 
 all men, forced to the religion and worship which 
 
192 ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 every civil state or common- weal agrees on, and com- 
 pels all subjects to in a dissembled uniformity. 
 
 Bloody to the bodies, first of the holy witnesses 
 of Christ Jesus, who testify against such invented 
 worships. 
 
 Secondly, of the nation and peoples slaughtering 
 each -other for their several respective religions and 
 consciences. 
 
 TO GOVERNOR WINTHROP OF MASSA- 
 CHUSETTS. 
 
 Providence, the 24th of the 8th [1636 ?] 
 
 Sir, worthy and well beloved, — I was abroad 
 about the Pequot business when your letter arrived, 
 and since messengers have not fitted, &c. 
 
 I therefore now thankfully acknowledge your wis- 
 dom and gentleness in receiving so lovingly my late 
 rude and foolish lines : you bear with fools gladly 
 because you are wise. 
 
 I still wait upon your love and faithfulness for those 
 poor papers, and cannot but believe that your heart, 
 tongue, and pen should be one, if I were Turk or 
 Jew, &c. 
 
 Your six queries I welcome, my love forbidding 
 me to surmise that a Pharisee, a Sadducee, an Hero- 
 dian, &c, wrote them ; but rather that your love 
 and pity framed them as a physician to the sick, &c. 
 
 He that made us these souls and searcheth them, 
 that made the ear and eye, and therefore sees and 
 hears I lie not, but in his presence have sadly seques- 
 tered myself to his holy tribunal, and your interroga- 
 
TO GOVERNOR WINTHROP. 1 93 
 
 tories, begging from his throne those seven fiery lamps 
 and eyes, his holy Spirit, to help the scrutiny, desirous 
 to suspect myself above the old serpent himself, and 
 remembering that he that trusteth in his own heart is 
 a fool. Prov. 28. 
 
 While I answer let me importune from your loving 
 breast that good opinion that you deal with one (how- 
 ever so and so, in your judgment yet) serious, and 
 desirous in the matters of God's Sanctuary to use (as 
 the double weights of the Sanctuary teach us) double 
 diligence. 
 
 Your first query then is this. 
 
 What have you gained by your new-found prac- 
 tices ? &c. 
 
 I confess my gains cast up in man's exchange are 
 loss of friends, esteem, maintenance, &c, but what 
 was gain in that respect I desire to count loss for the 
 excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord : 
 &c. To His all glorious Name I know I have gained 
 the honor of one of his poor witnesses, though in 
 sackcloth. 
 
 To your beloved selves and others of God's people 
 yet asleep, this witness in the Lord's season at your 
 waking shall be prosperous, and the seed sown shall 
 arise to the greater purity of the kingdom and ordi- 
 nances of the Prince of the kings of the earth. 
 
 To myself (through his rich grace) my tribulation 
 hath brought some consolation and more evidence of 
 his love, singing Moses his song and the Lamb's, in 
 that weak victory which (through His help) I have 
 gotten over the beast, his picture, his mark, and 
 number of his name, Revel. 15. 2. 3. 
 
 If you ask for numbers, the witnesses are but two : 
 
194 ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 Revel, ii., and how many millions of Christians in 
 name, and thousands of Christians in heart, do call 
 the truths (wherein yourself and I agree in witness- 
 ing) new found practices ? 
 
 Gideon's army was thirty -two thousand ; but cow- 
 ardice returned twenty-two thousand back, and nine 
 thousand seven hundred worldlings sent but three 
 hundred to the battle. 
 
 I will not by prophecy exasperate, but wish (in 
 the black and stormy day) your company be not less 
 than Gideon's to fight (I mean with the Blood of 
 the Lamb and Word of Witness) for what you profess 
 to see. 
 
 To your second, viz. : Is your spirit as even as it 
 was seven years since ? 
 
 I will not follow the fashion either in commending 
 or condemning of myself. You and I stand at one 
 dreadful, dreadful tribunal : yet what is past I desire 
 to forget, and to press forward towards the mark for 
 the prize of the high calling of God in Christ. 
 
 And for the evenness of my spirit. 
 
 Toward the Lord, I hope I more long to know 
 and do His holy pleasure only, and to be ready not 
 only to be banished, but to die in New England for 
 the name of the Lord Jesus. 
 
 Towards yourselves, I have hitherto begged of the 
 Lord an even spirit, and I hope ever shall, as 
 
 First, reverently to esteem of, and tenderly to 
 respect the persons of many hundreds of you, &c. 
 
 Secondly, To rejoice to spend and be spent in 
 any service, (according to my conscience) for your 
 welfares. 
 
 Thirdly, To rejoice to find out the least swerving 
 
TO GOVERNOR WINTHROP. 195 
 
 in judgment or practice from the help of any, even 
 the least of you. 
 
 Lastly, to mourn daily, heavily, uncessantly, till 
 the Lord look down from Heaven, and bring all his 
 precious living stones into one New Jerusalem. 
 
 To your third, viz. : Are you not grieved that 
 you have grieved so many ? 
 
 I say with Paul, I vehemently sorrow for the 
 sorrow of any of Zion's daughters, who should ever 
 rejoice in her King, &c, yet I must (and O that 1 
 had not cause) grieve because so many of Zion's 
 daughters see not and grieve not for their souls' defile- 
 ments, and that so few bear John company in weep- 
 ing after the unfolding of the seals, which only weepers 
 are acquainted with. 
 
 You thereupon propound a fourth, Do you think 
 the Lord hath utterly forsaken us ? 
 
 I answer Jehovah will not forsake His people for 
 His great name's sake I. Sam. 12. That is, the 
 fire of His love towards those whom once He loves 
 is eternal, like Himself: and thus far be it from me 
 to question His eternal love towards you, &c. Yet 
 if you grant that ever you were as Abraham among 
 the Chaldees, Lot among the Sodomites, the Kenites 
 among the Amalekites, as Israel in Egypt or Babel, 
 and that under pain of their plagues and judgments 
 you were bound to leave them, depart, fly out, (not 
 from the places as in the type,) but from the filthi- 
 ness, of their sins, &c, and if it prove, as I know 
 assuredly it shall, that though you have come far, yet 
 you never came out of the wilderness to this day : 
 then, I beseech you, remember that yourselves, and 
 so also many thousands of God's people, must yet 
 
196 ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 mournfully read the 74, 79, 80, and 89 Psalms, the 
 Lamentations, Daniel 11th, and Revel. 11th, 12th, 
 13th, and this, Sir, I beseech you do more seriously 
 then ever, and abstract yourself with a holy violence 
 from the dung heap of this earth, the credit and com- 
 fort of it, and cry to Heaven to remove the stumbling 
 blocks, such idols, after which sometimes the Lord 
 will give His own Israel an answer. 
 
 Sir, You request me to be free with you, and 
 therefore blame me not if I answer your request, 
 desiring the like payment from your own dear hand, 
 at any time, in any thing. 
 
 And let me add, that amongst all the people of 
 God, wheresoever scattered about Babel's banks, 
 either in Rome or England, &c, your case is the 
 worst by far, because while others of God's Israel 
 tenderly respect such as desire to fear the Lord, your 
 very judgment and conscience leads you to smite and 
 beat your fellow servants, expel them your coasts, 
 &c, and therefore, though I know the elect shall 
 never finally be forsaken, yet Sodom's, Egypt's, 
 Arnalek's, Babel's judgments ought to drive us out, 
 to make our calling out of this world to Christ, and 
 our election sure in him. 
 
 Sir, Your fifth is, From what spirit, and to what 
 end do you drive ? 
 
 Concerning my spirit, as I said before, I could 
 declaim against it, but whether the spirit of Christ 
 Jesus, for whose visible kingdom and ordinances I 
 witness, &c, or the spirit of Antichrist ( 1 John 4) 
 against whom only I contest, do drive me, let the 
 Father of Spirits be pleased to search, and (worthy 
 Sir) be you also pleased by the word to search : and 
 
TO GOVERNOR WINTHROP. 197 
 
 I hope you will find that as you say you do, I also 
 seek Jesus who was nailed to the gallows, I ask the 
 way to lost Zion, I witness what I believe I see 
 patiently (the Lord assisting) in sackcloth, I long for 
 the bright appearance of the Lord Jesus to consume 
 the man of sin : I long for the appearance of the 
 Lamb's wife also, New Jerusalem : I wish heartily 
 prosperity to you all, Governor and people, in your 
 civil way, and mourn that you see not your poverty, 
 nakedness, &c, in spirituals, and yet I rejoice in the 
 hopes that as the way of the Lord to Apollo, so 
 within a few years (through, I fear though, many 
 tribulations) the way of the Lord Jesus, the first and 
 most ancient path, shall be more plainly discovered 
 to you and me. 
 
 Lastly, You ask whether my former condition 
 would not have stood with a gracious heart, &c. ? 
 
 At this query, Sir, I wonder much, because you 
 know what sins, yea all manner of sins, (the sin unto 
 death excepted,) a child of God may lie in, instance 
 1 need not. 
 
 Secondly, When it comes to matter of conscience 
 that the stroke lies upon the very judgment, that the 
 thing practiced is lawful, &c, as the polygamy of the 
 Saints, the building of the Temple, (if David had 
 gone on,) the many false ministries and ministrations 
 (like the ark upon the new cart) which from Luther's 
 times to this day, God's children have conscientiously 
 practiced. Who then can wonder (and yet indeed 
 who can not but wonder) how a gracious heart, 
 before the Lord's awakening, and calling, and draw- 
 ing out, may lie in many abominations ? 
 
 Two instances I shall be bold to present you with. 
 
198 ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 First, do you not hope Bishop Usher hath a gracious 
 heart ; and secondly, Do you not judge that your 
 own heart was gracious even when (with the poisoned 
 shirt on your back) you, &c. ? 
 
 But while another judgeth the condition fair, the 
 soul that fears, doubts, and feels a guilt hath broken 
 bones, &c. Now, worthy Sir, I must call up your 
 wisdom, your love, your patience, your promise and 
 faithfulness, candid ingenuity, &c. My heart's de- 
 sire is abundant, and exceeds my pen. My head 
 and actions willing to live (as the Apostle Paul) 
 XuAtos iv 7rao-i. Where I err, Christ be pleased to 
 restore me, where I stand, to establish. If you 
 please I have also a few queries to yourself, without 
 your leave I will not : but will ever mourn, (the 
 Lord assisting,) that I am no more (though I hope 
 ever) yours, R : Will : 
 
 Sir, Concerning natives : the Pequots and Nayan- 
 taquits resolve to live and die together, and not to yield 
 up one. Last night tidings came that the Mohawks, 
 (the cannibals,) have slain some of our countrymen 
 at Connecticut. I hope it is not true. 
 
 To John Winthrop, Governor, £sV. 
 
 [For his Much Honored Mr. Governor, John 
 Winthrop.] 
 
 Providence, [June, 1638.] 
 Sir, — I sometimes fear that my lines are as thick 
 and over busy as the musketoes, &c, but your wis- 
 dom will connive, and your love will cover, &c. 
 Two things at present for information. 
 
TO GOVERNOR WINTHROP. 1 99 
 
 First in the affairs of the Most High ; his late 
 dreadful voice and hand : that audible and sensible 
 voice, the Earthquake. 
 
 All these parts felt it, (whether beyond the Nar- 
 ragansett I yet learn not), for myself I scarce per- 
 ceived ought but a kind of thunder and a gentle 
 moving, &c, and yet it was no more this way to 
 many of our own and the natives' apprehensions, and 
 but one sudden short motion. 
 
 The younger natives are ignorant of the like : but 
 the elder inform me that this is the fifth within these 
 four score years in the land : the first about three 
 score and ten years since : the second some three 
 score and four years since, the third some fifty-four 
 years since, the fourth some forty-six since : and they 
 always observed either plague or pox or some other 
 epidemical disease followed ; three, four or five years 
 after the Earthquake, (or Naunaumemoauke, as they 
 speak ) . 
 
 He be mercifully pleased himself to interpret and 
 open his own riddles, and grant if it be pleasing in 
 his eyes) it may not be for destruction, and but (as 
 the Earthquake before the Jailor's conversion) a means 
 of shaking and turning of all hearts, (which are his,) 
 English or Indian, to him. To further this (if the 
 Lord please) the Earthquake sensibly took about a 
 thousand of the natives in a most solemn meeting for 
 play, &c. 
 
 Secondly, a word in mine own particular, only 
 for information. I owe between 50 and 60// to Mr. 
 Cradock for commodities received from Mr. Mayhew. 
 Mr. Mayhew will testify that (being Mr. Cradock' s 
 agent) he was content to take payment, what (and 
 
200 ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 when) my house at Salem yielded : accordingly I 
 long since put it into, his hand, and he into Mr. 
 Jollies', who beside my voluntary act and his attach- 
 ment since, sues as I hear for damages, which I 
 question : since I have not failed against contract and 
 content of the first agent, but the holy pleasure of the 
 Lord be done : unto whose merciful arms (with all 
 due respects) I leave you, wishing heartily that mercy 
 and goodness may ever follow you and yours. 
 
 Roger Williams. 
 
 Sir, to your dear companion, Mr. Deputy, Mr. 
 Bellingham, and theirs, all respective salutes, &c. 
 
 TO THE TOWN OF PROVIDENCE. 
 
 August 31, 1648. 
 Worthy Friends, that ourselves and all men 
 are apt and prone to differ, it is no new thing. In 
 all former ages, in all parts of the world, in these 
 parts, and in our dear native country and mournful 
 state of England, that either part or party is most 
 right in his own eyes, his cause right, his carriage 
 right, his arguments right, his answers right, is as 
 woefully and constantly true as the former. And 
 experience tells us, that when the God of peace have 
 taken peace from the earth, one spark of action, word 
 or carriage is too powerful to kindle such a fire as 
 burns up towns, cities, armies, navies, nations, and 
 kingdoms. And since, dear friends, it is an honor 
 for men to cease from strife ; since the life of love- is 
 sweet, and union is as strong as sweet ; and since you 
 
TO THE TOWN OF PROVIDENCE. 201 
 
 have been lately pleased to call me to some public 
 service and my soul hath been long musing how I 
 might bring water to quench, and not oil or fluid to 
 the flame, I am now humbly bold to beseech you, by 
 all those comforts of earth and heaven which a placa- 
 ble and peaceable spirit will bring to you, and by all 
 those dreadful alarms and warnings, either amongst 
 ourselves, in deaths and sicknesses, or abroad in the 
 raging calamities of the sword, death and pestilence ; 
 I say, I humbly and earnestly beseech you to be will- 
 ing to be pacifiable, willing to be reconcilable, willing 
 to be sociable, and to listen to the (I hope not unrea- 
 sonable) motion following: — 
 
 To try out matters by disputes and writings is 
 sometimes endless ; to try out arguments by arms and 
 swords is cruel and merciless ; to trouble the state and 
 Lords of England is most unreasonable, most charge- 
 able ; to trouble our neighbors of other colonies seems 
 neither safe nor honorable. Methinks, dear friends, 
 the colony now looks with the torn face of two parties, 
 and that the greater number of Portsmouth, with 
 other loving friends adhering to them, appear as one 
 grieved party ; the other three towns, or greater part 
 of them, appear to be another : Let each party 
 choose and nominate three : Portsmouth and friends 
 adhering three, the other party three, one out of each 
 town ; let authority be given to them to examine 
 every public difference, grievance, and obstruction 
 of justice, peace, and common safety ; let them, by 
 one final sentence of all, or the greater part of them, 
 end all, and set the whole into an unanimous posture 
 and order, and let them set a censure upon any that shall 
 oppose their sentence. One log, without your gentle 
 
202 ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 help, I cannot stir ; it is this : How shall the minds 
 of the towns be known ? How shall the persons 
 chosen be called? Time and place appointed in any 
 expedition ? For myself, I can thankfully embrace 
 the help of Mr. Coddington or Mr. Clarke, joined 
 or apart, but how many are there who will attend, 
 (as our distempers are) to neither? It is, gentle- 
 men, in the power of the body to require the help 
 of any of her members, and both King and Parlia- 
 ment plead, that in extraordinary cases they have been 
 forced to extraordinary ways for common safety. 
 Let me be friendly construed, if (for expedition) I 
 am bold to be too forward in this service, and to say 
 that if within twenty days of the date thereof, you 
 please to send to my house, at Providence, the name 
 of him whcm you please to nominate, at your desire 
 I will acquaint all the persons chosen with place and 
 time, unto which in your name I shall desire their 
 meeting within ten days, or thereabouts, after the 
 receipt of your letter. I am your mournful and un- 
 worthy Roger Williams. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM THE FAMOUS LET- 
 TER TO GOVERNOR ENDICOTT. 
 
 [Published in "The Bloody Tenent yet More 
 Bloody." 165 1 .] 
 
 August, 1651. 
 The Maker and Searcher or our hearts knows with 
 what bitterness I write, as with bitterness of soul 
 I have heard such language as to proceed from 
 
TO GOVERNOR ENDICOTT. 203 
 
 yourself and others, who formerly have fled from 
 (with crying out against) persecutors ! [You wili 
 say this is your conscience : You will say you are 
 persecuted, and you are persecuted for your con- 
 science. No ; you are Conventiclers, heretics, blas- 
 phemers, seducers. You deserve to be hanged ; 
 rather than one shall be wanting to hang him I will 
 hang him myself. I am resolved not to leave an 
 heretic in the country ; I had rather so many whores 
 and whoremongers and thieves came amongst us]. 
 Oh, sir, you cannot forget what language and dia- 
 lect this is, whether not the same unsavory and un- 
 godly, blasphemous and bloody, which the Gardiners 
 and Bonners, both former and latter used to all that 
 bowed not to the state golden image of what con- 
 science soever they were. And indeed, sir, if the 
 Most High be pleased to awaken you to render unto 
 his holy Majesty his due praises, in your truly broken- 
 hearted confessions and supplications, you will then 
 proclaim to all the world, that what professions so- 
 ever you made of the Lamb, yet these expressions 
 could not proceed from the dragon's mouth. 
 
 Oh remember, and the most holy Lord bring it 
 to your remembrance, that you have now a great 
 price in your hand, to bring great glory to his holy 
 name, great rejoicing to so gracious a Redeemer (in 
 whom you profess is all your healing and salvation), 
 great rejoicing to the holy Spirit of all true consola- 
 tion, whom yet so long you who have grieved and 
 sadded, great rejoicing to those blessed spirits (at- 
 tending upon the Lamb, and all his, and terrible to 
 his persecutors), great rejoicing and instruction to all 
 that love the true Lord Jesus (notwithstanding their 
 
204 ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 wanderings among so many false Christs), mourning 
 and lamenting after him in all parts of the world 
 where his name is sounded. Your talents are great, 
 your fall hath been so ; your eminency is great, the 
 glory of the Most High in mercy or justice toward 
 you will be great also. 
 
 Oh remember it is a dangerous combat for the 
 potsherds of the earth to fight with their dreadful 
 Potter. It is a dismal battle for poor naked feet to 
 kick against the pricks ; it is a dreadful voice from the 
 King of kings, and Lord of lords, " Endicott, Endi- 
 cott> why huntest thou me? why imprisonest thou 
 me ? why finest, why so bloodily whippest, why 
 wouldest thou (did not I hold thy bloody hands) 
 hang and burn me?" Yea, sir, I beseech you re- 
 member that it is a dangerous thing to put this to the 
 may be, to the venture or hazard, to the possibility. 
 Is it possible (may you well say) that since I hunt, 
 I hunt not the life of my Saviour, and the blood of 
 the Lamb of God ? I have fought against many sev- 
 eral sorts of consciences, is it beyond all possibility 
 and hazard, that I have not fought against God, that 
 I have not persecuted Jesus in some of them ? 
 
 Sir, I must be humbly bold to say, that 'tis impos- 
 sible for any man or men to maintain their Christ by 
 their sword, and to worship a true Christ ! to fight 
 against all consciences opposite to theirs, and not to 
 fight against God in some of them, and to hunt after 
 the precious life of the true Lord Jesus Christ. Oh 
 remember whither your principles and consciences 
 must in time and opportunity force you. 'Tis but 
 worldly policy and compliance with men and times 
 (God's mercy overruling) that holds your hands 
 
TO GOVERNOR WINTHROP. 205 
 
 from murdering of thousands and ten thousands were 
 your power and command as great as once the bloody 
 Roman Emperors' was. . . . 
 
 Oh remember once again (as I began), and I 
 humbly desire to remember with you, that every gray 
 hair now on both our heads is a Boanerges, a son of 
 thunder, and a warning piece to prepare us for the 
 weighing of our last anchors, and to be gone from 
 hence, as if we had never been. 
 
 'Twas mercy infinite, that stopped provoked justice 
 from blowing out our candle's in our youths, but now 
 the feeding substance of the candle's gone, and 'tis 
 impossible without repentance to recall our actions ! 
 nay, with repentance to recall our minutes past us. 
 
 TO MY HONOR'D, KIND FRIEND, MR. 
 JOHN WINTHROP, GOVERNOR, AT 
 HARTFORD, ON CONNECTICUT. 
 
 Providence, 6, 12, 59-60. 
 Sir, — Loving respects to yourself and Mrs. Win- 
 throp, &c. Your loving lines in this cold dead season 
 were as a cup of your Connecticut cider, which we 
 are glad to hear abounds with you, or of that western 
 metheglin, which you and I have drunk at Bristol 
 together, &c. Indeed, it is the wonderful power and 
 goodness of God, that we are preserved in our dis- 
 persions among these wild, barbarous wretches. I hear 
 not of their excursions this winter, and should rejoice 
 if, as you hint, Uncas and his brother were removed 
 to Long Island, or any where, or else, as I have 
 somtimes motioned, a truce for some good term of 
 
206 ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 years might be obtained amongst them. But now 
 should we expect that the streams of blood should 
 stop among the dregs of mankind when the bloody 
 issues flow so fresh and fearfully among the finest 
 and most refined sons of men and sons of God. We 
 have not only heard of the four northern nations, 
 Dania, Swedia, Anglia, and Belgium, all Protestants, 
 (heretics and dogs, with the Pope &c.) last year 
 tearing and devouring one another, in the narrow 
 straits and eminent high passages and turns of the sea 
 and world : but we also have a sound of the Presby- 
 terians' rage new burst out into flames of war from 
 Scotland, and the independent and sectarian army 
 provoked again to new appeals to God, and engage- 
 ments against them. 
 
 Thus, while this last Pope hath plied with sails 
 and oars, and brought all his popish sons to peace, 
 except Portugal, and brought in his grand engineers, 
 the Jesuits, again to Venice, after their long just banish- 
 ment, we Protestants are woefully disposed to row 
 backward, and bring our sails aback-stays, and pro- 
 voke the holy, jealous Lord, who is a consuming fire, 
 to kindle again those fires from Rome and hell, which 
 formerly consumed (in Protestant countries) so many 
 precious servants of God. The late renowned Oliver, 
 confessed to me, in close discourse about the Protes- 
 tants' affairs, &c. that he yet feared great persecutions to 
 the Protestants from the Romanists, before the down- 
 fall of the Papacy. The histories of our fathers 
 before us tell us what huge bowls of the blood of 
 the saints that great whore hath been drunk with, in 
 (now) Protestant dominions. Sure her judgment 
 will ring through the world, and it is hoped it is not 
 
TO GOVERNOR WINTHROP. 207 
 
 far from the door. Sir, you were, not long since, 
 the son of two noble fathers, Mr. John Winthrop 
 and Mr. H. Peters. It is said they are both extin- 
 guished. Surely, I did ever, from my soul, honor 
 and love them even when their judgments led them 
 to afflict me. Yet the Father of Spirits spares us 
 breath, and I rejoice, Sir, that your name (amongst 
 the New England magistrates printed, to the Parlia- 
 ment and army by H. Nort. Rous, &c. , ) is not blurred, 
 but rather honored, for your prudent and moderate 
 hand in the late Quakers' trials amongst us. And it 
 is said that in the late Parliament yourself were one 
 of the three in nomination for General Governor over 
 New England, which however that design ripened 
 not, yet your name keeps up a high esteem, &c. I 
 have seen your hand to a letter to this colony, as to 
 your late purchase of some land at Narragansett. 
 The fight of your hand hath quieted some jealousies 
 amongst us, that the Bay, by this purchase, designed 
 some prejudice to the liberty of conscience amongst 
 us. We are in consultation how to answer that 
 letter, and my endeavor shall be, with God's help, 
 to welcome, with both our hands and arms, your 
 interest in these parts, though we have no hope to 
 enjoy your personal residence amongst us. I rejoice 
 to hear that you gain, by new plantations, upon this • 
 wilderness. I fear that many precious souls will be 
 glad to hide their heads, shortly, in these parts. 
 Your candle and mine draws towards its end. The 
 LorS graciously help us to shine in light and love 
 universally, to all that fear his name, without that 
 monopoly of affection to such of our own persua- 
 sion only ; for the common enemy, the Romish wolf, 
 
208 ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 is very high in resolution, and hope, and advantage 
 to make a prey on all, of all sorts that desire to fear 
 God. Divers of our neighbors thankfully re-salute 
 you. We have buried, this winter, Mr Olney's 
 son, whom, formerly, you heard to be afflicted with 
 a lethargy. He lay two or three days wholly sense- 
 less, until his last groans. My youngest son, Joseph, 
 was troubled with a spice of epilepsy. We used some 
 remedies, but it hath pleased God, by his taking of 
 tobacco, perfectly, as we hope, to cure him. Good 
 Mr. Parker, of Boston, passing from Prudence Island, 
 at his coming on shore, on Seekonk land, trod awry 
 upon a stone or stick, and fell down, and broke the 
 small bone of his leg. He hath lain by of it all this 
 winter, and the last week was carried to Boston in a 
 horse litter. Some fears there was of a gangrene. 
 But, Sir, I use too much boldness and prolixity. 
 I shall now only subscribe myself 
 
 Your unworthy friend, 
 
 Roger Williams. 
 
 Sir, my loving respects to Mr. Stone, Mr. Lord, 
 Mr. Allen, Mr. Webster, and other loving friends. 
 
 •EXTRACTS FROM A LETTER CONCERN- 
 ING AN INTERCOLONIAL DISPUTE. 
 
 Providence, 22 June, 1670, (Ut. Vulgo.) 
 Major Mason, — My honored dear and ancient 
 
 friend. My due respects and earnest desires to God 
 
 for your eternal peace, etc. 
 
 I crave your leave and patience to present you with 
 
AN INTERCOLONIAL DISPUTE. 209 
 
 some few considerations occasioned by the late trans- 
 actions between your colony and ours. 1 The last 
 year you were pleased, in one of your lines to me, to 
 tell me that you longed to see my face once more be- 
 fore you died : I embrace your love, though I feared 
 my old lame bones, and yours, had arrested travelling 
 in this world, and therefore I was and am ready 
 to lay hold on all occasions of writing as I do at 
 present. . . . 
 
 Sir, I am not out of hopes but that while your aged 
 eyes and mine are yet in their orbs, and not yet sunk 
 down into their holes of rottenness, we shall leave our 
 friends and countrymen, our children and relations 
 and this land in peace behind us. To this end, Sir, 
 please you with a calm and steady and a christian 
 hand, to hold the balance and to weigh these few 
 considerations, in much love and due respect presented. 
 
 First, when I. was unkindly and unchristianly, as I 
 believe, driven from my house and land and wife and 
 children (in the midst of a New-England winter, now 
 about thirty-five years past) at Salem, that ever hon- 
 ored Governor Mr. Winthrop privately wrote to me 
 to steer my course to Narragansett-Bav and Indians 
 for many high and heavenly and public ends, encour- 
 aging me from the freeness of the place from any 
 English claims or patents. I took his prudent mo- 
 tion as an hint and voice from God and waiving all 
 other thoughts and motions, I steered my course from 
 Salem (though in winter snow which I feel yet) unto 
 these parts, wherein I may say Peniel, that is, I have 
 seen the face of God. 
 
 *Over a question of jurisdiction — Rhode Island protested 
 against invasions by Connecticut. . 
 
210 ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 Second, I first pitch' t, and began to build and 
 plant at Seekonk, now Rehoboth, but I received a letter 
 from my ancient friend, Mr. Winslow, then Governor 
 of Plymouth, professing his own and others' love and 
 respect to me, yet lovingly advising me, since I was 
 fallen into the edge of their bounds and they were 
 loth to displease the Bay, to remove but to the other 
 side of the water and then he said I had the country 
 free before me and might be as free as themselves and 
 we should be loving neighbors together. These were 
 the joint understandings of these two eminently wise 
 and christian Governors and others, in their day, to- 
 gether with their counsel and advice as to the freedom 
 and vacancy of this place, which in this respect and 
 many other providences of the most holy and only 
 wise, I called Providence. * * * 
 
 5. Considering (upon frequent exceptions against 
 Providence men) that we had no authority for civil 
 government, I went purposely to England and upon 
 my report and petition, the Parliament granted us a 
 charter of government for these parts, so judged va- 
 cant on all hands. And upon this the country about 
 us was more friendly, and wrote to us and treated us 
 as an authorised colony ; only the differences of our 
 consciences much obstructed. The bounds of this our 
 first charter I (having ocular knowledge of persons, 
 places and transactions) did honestly and conscien- 
 tiously, as in the holy presence of God, draw up from 
 Pawcatuck river, which I then believed and still do, 
 is free from all English claims and conquests ; * * * 
 
 10. Alas, Sir, in calm midnight thoughts, what 
 are these leaves and flowers, and smoke and shadows, 
 ajid dreams of earthly nothings, about which we poor 
 
VERSES. 211 
 
 fools and children, as David saith, disquiet ourselves 
 in vain ? Alas, what is all the scuffling of this world 
 for but, come will you smoke it ? What are all the 
 contentions and wars of this world about, generally, 
 but for greater dishes and bowls of porridge, of which, 
 if we believe God's spirit in Scripture, Esau and Jacob 
 were types ? . . . 
 
 ... I know you are both of you hot, I fear my- 
 self also. If both desire, in a loving and calm spirit, to 
 enjoy your rights I promise you, with God's help, to 
 help you to them in a fair and sweet and easy way. 
 — My receipt will not please you all. If it should 
 so please God to frown upon us that you should not 
 like it, I can but humbly mourn and say with the 
 Prophet that which must perish, must perish. And 
 as to myself in endeavouring after your temporal and 
 spiritual peace, I humbly desire to say, if I perish, I 
 perish — It is but a shadow vanished, a bubble broke, 
 a dream finish' t — eternity will pay for all. 
 
 Sir, I am your old and true friend and servant, 
 Roger Williams. 
 
 VERSES. 
 [From "A Key into the Language of America." 
 
 ,6 43 .] 
 
 If birds that neither sow nor reap 
 
 Nor store up any food, 
 Constantly find to them and theirs 
 
 A maker kind and good ! 
 
212 ROGER WILLIAMS. 
 
 If man provide eke for his birds, 
 
 In yard, in coops, in cage, 
 And each bird spends in songs and tunes 
 
 His little time and age ! 
 
 What care will man, what care will God, 
 For's wife and children take? 
 
 Millions of birds and worlds will God 
 Sooner than his forsake. 
 
 Years thousands since God gave command, 
 
 As we in Scripture find, 
 That earth and trees and shrubs should bring 
 
 Forth fruits each in his kind. 
 
 The wilderness remembers this; 
 
 The wild and howling land 
 Answers the toiling labor of 
 
 The wildest Indian's hand. 
 
 But man forgets his maker, who 
 
 Framed him in righteousness, 
 A Paradise in Paradise now worse 
 
 Than Indian wilderness. 
 
 When sun doth rise the stars do set, 
 Yet there 's no need of light, 
 
 God shines a sun most glorious, 
 When creatures all are night. 
 
VERSES. 213 
 
 The very Indian boys can give 
 
 To many stars their name, 
 And know their course, and therein do 
 
 Excel the English tame. 
 
 English and Indians none inquire, 
 Whose hand these candles hold, 
 
 Who gives these stars their names, himself 
 More bright ten thousand-fold. 
 
THOMAS HOOKER. 
 
 Thomas Hooker, one of the most eloquent and 
 influential of the early Puritan clergy, was born in 
 Markfield, -Leicestershire, in 1586, and died in 
 Hartford, Connecticut, in 1647. Like many of 
 his fellow ministers, he was a Cambridge graduate 
 and fellow, and was advancing to distinction when, 
 in 1630, he was silenced by Archbishop Laud. He 
 was Anglican in doctrine, but objected to the cere- 
 monial of the English Church. He taught school 
 for a time with John Eliot, the future apostle to the 
 Indians, as his assistant, but he was still subjected to 
 persecution, and fled to Holland, whence he emi- 
 grated in 1633 to New England in the same ship 
 with John Cotton and the almost equally distinguished 
 Samuel Stone. Five weeks after his landing, Hooker 
 obtained a pastorate, and three years later migrated 
 with his entire congregation to the Connecticut River, 
 where they founded Hartford. Hooker was identi- 
 fied with all the great political and religious move- 
 ments in the young colony, especially with the framing 
 of the famous constitution. He was a man of command- 
 ing character, in politics liberal and almost democratic, 
 but in his church ruling with a rod of iron as prophet, 
 priest, and king, as confessor, too, and exhorter of 
 the minatory type. His power to foretell events 
 seems to have been believed in both by himself and by 
 his parishioners. His style is often less involved, and 
 214 
 
THOMAS HOOKER. 21 5 
 
 therefore more forcible and readable than that of many 
 of his contemporaries, for he constantly remembered 
 the limitations of the human ear, and framed his dis- 
 courses accordingly. His sermons and numerous 
 treatises must have been read with a fearful joy of 
 terror, so long as the theology that they represented 
 was a matter of belief or even of profession. 
 
 A SURVEY of the Summe of Church-Discipline, 
 WHEREIN the Way of the CHURCHES of NEW 
 ENGLAND is Warranted out of the Word, and all 
 Exceptions of Weight, which are made against it, 
 answered: Whereby also it will appear to the Judi- 
 cious Reader, that something more must be said, then 
 yet hath been, before their Principles can be shaken, 
 or they should be unsetled in their practice, By 
 Thos. Hooker, late Pastor of the Church at Hart- 
 ford upon Connecticott in N.E. [London, 1648.] 
 
 [From the Preface. 1 ] 
 
 Truth is the Daughter of time, was the saying of 
 old, and our daily experience gives in evidence and 
 proof hereof, to every man's ordinary observation. 
 Only as in other births, so here, the barrenness and 
 fruitfulness of several ages, depend merely upon 
 God's good pleasure ; who opens and shuts the 
 womb of truth from bearing, as he sees fit, according 
 to the counsel of his own will. 
 
 Not that there is any change in the truth, but the 
 alteration grows, according to men's apprehensions, 
 
 1 The marginal references are omitted. The long title is not 
 typographically exact. 
 
2l6 THOMAS HOOKER. 
 
 to whom it is more or less discovered, according to 
 God's most just judgment, and their own deservings. 
 
 Sometimes God makes an eclipse of the truth at 
 midday, that so he might express his wrath from 
 Heaven, against the unthankfulness, prophaneness, 
 and atheism of a malignant world. 
 
 Hence it was he let loose those hellish delusions, 
 immediately after the Ascension of our Saviour ; That 
 though his life and conversation gave in evidence be- 
 yond gainsaying, that he was true man : Though 
 the miracles and wonders he wrought in his life and 
 death, resurrection and ascension, were witnesses un- 
 deniable, that he was true God : yet there arose a 
 wretched generation of heretics, in the first, second, 
 and third hundred years, who adventured not only 
 against the express verdict of the Scripture, but 
 against sense and experience, fresh in the observa- 
 tion and tradition of living men, with more than 
 Satanical impudency to deny both the natures of 
 our blessed Saviour. 
 
 Some denied the deity of our Saviour, and would 
 have him mere man. As Ebrion, Cerinthus, Mon- 
 tanus, &c. Others deny him to be true man, as the 
 Gnostici, Valentiniani, Marrionitae. 
 
 Sometimes when men entertain the truth in profes- 
 sion, but not in the love of it, and that endeared 
 affection, that is due thereunto, the Lord gives men 
 up to the activity of error, as the Apostle speaks, 
 because they did not love, that the truth should be 
 truth, they embraced falsehood instead of truth, that 
 so they might be deluded and damned. This made 
 way for Antichrist, and did midwife that man of sin 
 into the world, and by little and little advanced him 
 
THOMAS HOOKER. 21 7 
 
 into his throne. For while men did verbally acknowl- 
 edge the nature and offices of our Saviour, they did 
 begin, though subtilly, yet really, to usurp the honor 
 and exercise of all to themselves. 
 
 First, They began to encroach upon the Priestly 
 Office of our Saviour, and not only to pray for the 
 dead, but to pray to them, and to attribute too 
 much to the martyrs and their worth ; and to dero- 
 gate from the merits, and that plentiful and perfect 
 redemption wrought alone by the Lord Jesus. The 
 Spouse of Christ thus, like the unwise virgins, was 
 taken aside with the slumber of idolatry, till at last 
 she fell fast asleep as the following times give in 
 abundant testimony. . . . 
 
 And thus at once they usurped upon the Propheti- 
 cal and justled our Saviour also out of his Regal 
 office t for so they are linked together by the Prophet. 
 He is our King, he is our Law-giver ; it is in his 
 power and pleasure to provide his own laws, and ap- 
 point the ways of his own worship. 
 
 Thus were the Offices of our Saviour secretly and cun- 
 ningly undermined till at last that man of sin, seeing his 
 time, and taking his advantage, adventured openly and 
 impudently to challenge the chair of supremacy. 
 
 Boniface the Third obtained by policy and treach- 
 ery, at the hand of Phocas for himself and his suc- 
 cessors, that the Bishop of Rome, should be the head 
 and chief Bishop of all Christian Churches. 
 
 But the one sword was not sufficient for Hilde- 
 brand, He rested not, until by his hellish contrive- 
 ments he had got two swords, to fill both his hands 
 withal, and a triple-crown upon his head, and carried 
 it with mighty violence against the imperial majesty : 
 
21 8 THOMAS HOOKER. 
 
 that whereas no Pope in former times might be chosen 
 without the confirmation of the Emperor : so now no 
 Emperor might be chosen without the confirmation 
 of the Pope : as appears in the story of Henry the 
 Emperor. 
 
 Thus while the Pope pretended to be the Vicar 
 and Vicegerent of Christ, to supply his absence here 
 on earth, by being caput minis teriale : in issue he 
 justled him out of the room and right of his Head- 
 ship. 
 
 He makes canons to bind conscience, and so as- 
 sumes the place of the chief Prophet ; Gives dispen- 
 sations, sends out indulgences, sells pardons, retains, 
 and remits sins, improves the treasury of the Church 
 to that end, and so challengeth the place of being chief 
 Priest. Lastly, arrogates the plenitude and supremacy 
 of power in causes ecclesiastic and civil, no less than 
 two swords will satisfy, to fill both his hands, and a 
 triple-crown to load his head withal, and thereby 
 arrogates to be head of the Church. 
 
 When God had revenged the contempt of the au- 
 thority of his son, by delivering up such contemners 
 to the tyranny and slavery of Antichrist, by the space 
 of many hundred years : That by their own experi- 
 ence they came to know the difference betwixt the 
 service of God, and the slavery of men : the golden 
 scepter of Christ, and the iron rod of Antichrist ; who 
 tortured their consciences upon a continual rack, held 
 their souls smoking over the mouth of the bottomless 
 pit, put them into hell, and plucked them out at his 
 pleasure, whence men desired to die, rather than to 
 live. 
 
 They then began to sigh for some deliverance from 
 
THOMAS HOOKER. 219 
 
 this spiritual, more than Egyptian bondage ; and being 
 thus prepared to lend a listening ear unto the truth, 
 God sent them some little reviving in their extremi- 
 ties, a day-star arising in this their darkness. 
 
 He stirred up the spirit of the Waldenses, Arma- 
 chanus, Wickliff, Huss, and Jerome of Prague, who 
 openly proclaimed the usurpations of that man of sin, 
 stoutly asserted the fulness and sufficiency of the Scrip- 
 tures, cleared and maintained the deciding authority 
 thereof in all the ways and worship of God, and so 
 set up the Lord Jesus, as the only Prophet of his 
 Church. 
 
 After them succeeded Luther, who made a spoil 
 of the Pope's treasury, marred wholly his market, and 
 the sale of his indulgencies, and so wonderfully cooled 
 and quenched the fire of Purgatory, and the Pope's 
 kitchen : that his holiness, and the wretched rabble 
 of all his black-guard, were forced to improve all their 
 power and policy to crush the credit of that champion, 
 and the authority of that doctrine which he taught, but 
 all in vain. . . . 
 
 Only the Supremacy of that Kingly Power, upon 
 which the Pope had encroached, and maintained the 
 possession thereof so long, was yet retained and forti- 
 fied (as reason would) with greatest resolution, nor 
 could he suffer the appearance of any approach or bat- 
 tery to be erected, that might seem to hazard the safety 
 of that, but he sets him fully and fiercely against Ref- 
 ormation, which sticks like the cunny-skin at the head 
 principally. 
 
 Hence for the surprisal of so strong a piece, the 
 Lord in his providence provided many means to make 
 approaches thereunto by little and little. The Coun- 
 
220 THOMAS HOOKER. 
 
 cils of Constance and Basel justled the Pope to the 
 wall, and took the wall of him, made him lower than 
 the council, but let him enjoy his headship over all 
 his officers and particular churches. 
 
 King Henry the Eighth, he further clipped his wings 
 in temporals, shook off and renounced that supremacy 
 that he had arrogated and erected over kings and king- 
 doms in former ages : Only that is storied of him as 
 his mistake, he cut off the head of Popery, but left the 
 body of it (in Arch-Bishops, Primates, Metropolitans, 
 Archdeacons, ) yet within his realm, and the Churches 
 there established. 
 
 He that will estrange his affection because of the 
 difference of apprehension in things difficult he must 
 be a stranger to himself one time or other. If men 
 would be tender and careful to keep off offensive ex- 
 pressions they might keep some distance in opinion 
 in some things without hazard to truth or love, but 
 when men set up their sheaves (though it be but in 
 a dream as Joseph's was) and fall out with every one 
 that will not fall down and adore them, they will bring 
 much trouble into the world, but little advantage to the 
 truth or peace. . . . 
 
 The sum is, we doubt not what we practice, but it's 
 beyond all doubt that all men are liars and we are in 
 the number of those poor feeble men, either we do or 
 may err, though we do not know it. What we have 
 learned we do profess, and yet profess still to live that 
 we may learn. . . . 
 
 That the discourse comes forth in such a homely 
 dress and coarse habit, the reader must be desired to 
 consider it comes out of the wilderness where curiosity 
 is not studied. Planters if they can provide cloth to 
 
THOMAS HOOKER. 221 
 
 go warm, they leave the cuts and lace to those that 
 study to go fine. 
 
 As it is beyond my skill, so I profess it is beyond 
 my care to please the niceness of men's palates with 
 any quaintness of language. They who covet more 
 sauce than meat they must provide cooks to their 
 mind. It was a cavil cast upon Hierom, that in his 
 writings he was Ciceronianus non Christianus. My 
 rudeness frees me wholly from this exception ... if 
 I would I could not lavish out in looseness of language 
 and, as the case stands, if I could answer any man's 
 desire in that daintiness of speech I would not do the 
 matter that injury which is now under my hand : 
 Ornari res ipsa negat. . . . The substance and 
 solidity of the frame is that which pleaseth the 
 builder ; it's the painter's work to provide varnish. 
 
 PART III, CHAPTER III. OF CENSURES. 
 
 The Lord Christ being a tender-hearted father to 
 his Church as his family and household, he hath not 
 only provided wholesome and choice diet, his holy and 
 spiritual ordinances for the food and refreshing of the 
 souls of his faithful . . . but he hath laid in purgatives 
 as well as restoratives, and out of his infinite wisdom, 
 who knows, to how many corrupt distempers, as so 
 many hurtful and noisome diseases the saints are subject 
 unto, he hath appointed Church-censures as good 
 physic to purge out what is evil. . . . And his yearn- 
 ing compassion hath made him here so careful that he 
 hath appointed each particular brother as a skilful 
 apothecary to help forward the spiritual health of all 
 
222 THOMAS HOOKER. 
 
 in confederacy with him. Hence all the members 
 are made (as we have heard) watchmen over the wel- 
 fare of their brethren, and by virture of their conso- 
 ciation and combination have power over each other 
 and a judicial way of process against each other in case 
 of any sinful aberration. . . . Private oiFenses appear 
 only to few, one or more ; and therefore they only are 
 to proceed against them, in covering and hiding them 
 from the apprehensions of others, as much as may be ; 
 provided they can thereby attain an healing of them 
 . . . but if the offense be famous and notorious at 
 the first practice of it, as open drunkenness, swearing, 
 stealing, lying, or that a brother, according to the rule 
 of Christ, by reason of another's obstinacy be con- 
 strained to tell it to the Church and make it public 
 ... the offense must first be brought to the Elders 
 and by them debated and delivered to the Church. 
 . . . To them it appertains to judge whether the 
 things be of weight and worth, and so need and require 
 the presence and assistance of the body to express their 
 judgment against them, and the party guilty of them 
 or no, for if they be petty businesses and altogether 
 unfit and unworthy to trouble the congregation withal, 
 it is in their power to prevent such causeless and need- 
 less disturbance, and therefore to suppress any further 
 proceeding therein. . . . But when all things are 
 cleared, the native and naked state of the controversy 
 laid forth and presented in the severals of it, even the 
 meanest in the congregation will generally be able to 
 see cause to join their judgments with the truth. . . . 
 In the examination of controversies (because the eager- 
 ness of some spirits is inordinate in the pursuit of an 
 offense too rigidly, and the pride of all men's hearts 
 
THOMAS HOOKER. 223 
 
 generally is such, that though they can do shamefully, 
 yet they are loath to bear the shame of it ; and there- 
 fore out of their waywardness and wilyness of heart are 
 ready to wimble and wind out devices, that they 
 may put by the dint of a discovering and convincing 
 argument) he that complains must know two rules. 
 
 First that he must not dare to complain to the Elder 
 of a Church unless he can plainly and peremptorily 
 lay in his accusation of another, touching such speeches 
 and carriages of which upon thorough search he is well 
 assured . . . because I would prevent such weak and 
 windy kind of expressions as too often we meet withal 
 out of men's too-sudden pangs and heedless mistakes. 
 *' I take it so " ; "I conceive it so M ; '* It was so 
 reported " ; "I met with it on that manner " etc., 
 when upon the search all these vanish as mistakes. 
 The Word is, we must rebuke convictingly Matt. 
 i8:ij. 
 
 Secondly, as his accusation must be plain so his 
 proofs must be direct and pregnant . . . there must 
 be two witnesses to establish every word, except the 
 things be otherways evidenced sufficiently as by con- 
 fession of the party, etc. 
 
 On the Elders' parts two rules, if attended, make 
 great riddance of occasions and prevent distempers. 
 First, let the accusation be presently and exactly re- 
 corded together with the answer thereunto in like 
 manner : for experience teacheth that in multiplicity of 
 debates parties are apt to forget or else not willing to 
 remember, and sometimes ready to mistake, add, 
 alter, vary in expression, as they see there may any 
 advantage come to their own or disadvantage to the 
 contrary cause . . . secondly, let the Elders confine all 
 
224 THOMAS HOOKER. 
 
 parties to the point in hand and not suffer them by 
 extravagancies to darken the truth, disturb the pro- 
 ceedings and bring confusion to the whole debate. 
 They are also, by their authority put into their hands, 
 to forbid and restrain all personal and passionate ex- 
 pressions, and to constrain both sides to speak to the 
 cause, and only to the cause in hand. . . . 
 
 The execution of the sentence issues in four things. 
 First the cause exactly recorded is as fully and nakedly 
 to be presented to the consideration of the Congrega- 
 tion. Secondly the Elders are . . . to express their 
 judgment and determination thereof, so far as apper- 
 tains to themselves. Thirdly, unless the people be able 
 to convince them of error and mistakes in their sen- 
 tence they are bound to join their judgment with 
 theirs to the completing of the sentence. Fourthly, 
 the sentence thus completely issued, is to be solemnly 
 passed and pronounced upon the delinquent by the 
 ruling Elder whether it be the sentence of admonition 
 or excommunication. 
 
"HELL TORMENTS." 225 
 
 "HELL TORMENTS, HOW IN SOME 
 SORT TO JUDGE OF THEM." 
 
 [From "The Soul's Preparation for Christ; or 
 a Treatise of Contrition." London, 1632.] 
 
 First, judge the lion by his paw, judge the torments 
 of hell by some little beginning of it ; and the dregs of 
 God's vengeance, by some little sips of it ; and judge 
 how unable thou art to bear the whole by thy inability 
 to bear a little of it in this life, in the terror of con- 
 science (as the wise man saith) A wounded spirit who 
 can bear ? When God lays the flashes of hell fire 
 upon thy soul, thou canst not endure it : Whatsoever 
 a man can inflict upon a poor wretch, may be borne ; 
 but when the Almighty comes in battle array against 
 a poor soul, how can he undergo it ? witness the Saints 
 that have felt it, as also witness the wicked themselves, 
 that have had some beginnings of hell in their con- 
 sciences. When the Lord hath let in a little horror 
 of heart into the soul of a poor sinful creature, how 
 is he transported with an insupportable burthen ? 
 When it is day, he wisheth it were night, and when 
 it is night, he wisheth it were day. All the friends 
 in the world cannot comfort him : nay, many have 
 sought to hang themselves, to do any thing rather 
 than to suffer a little vengeance of the Almighty : and 
 one man is roaring and yelling, as if he were now in 
 hell already, and admits of no comfort : if the drops 
 be so heavy, what will the whole sea of God's ven- 
 geance be ? If he cannot bear the one, how can he 
 bear the other ? 
 
226 THOMAS HOOKER. 
 
 Secondly, consider thine own strength, and com- 
 pare it with all the strength of the creatures, and so 
 if all the creatures be not able to bear the wrath of 
 the Almighty, (as Job saith) // my strength the 
 strength of stones ? or is my flesh as brass that must 
 bear thy wrath ! As if he had said, It must be a 
 stone, or brass that must bear thy wrath. Though 
 thou wert as strong as brass or stones, thou couldst 
 not bear it : when the mountains tremble at the wrath 
 of the Lord, shall a poor worm or bubble, and a 
 shadow endure it ? 
 
 Conceive thus much, if all the diseases in the world 
 did seize on one man, and if all torments that all the 
 tyrants in the world could devise, were cast upon 
 him ; and if all the creatures in heaven and earth did 
 conspire the destruction of this man ; and if all the 
 devils in hell did labor to inflict punishments upon 
 him, you would think this man to be in a miserable 
 condition. And yet all this is but a beam of God's 
 indignation. If the beams of God's wrath be so hot, 
 what is the full sun of his wrath, when it shall seize 
 upon the soul of a sinful creature in full measure ? 
 
 GOD'S MERCY AND HIS JUSTICE. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 Secondly, if this will not work upon you, if you 
 have no good nature in you, consider that God is just 
 too ; if mercy cannot prevail with you, you shall have 
 justice enough, and that without mercy ; you must 
 not think to slight God's mercy, and carry it away 
 
"THE TEXT SAITH SO." 227 
 
 in that fashion. But God is a just God, as he is a 
 gracious God, he will be revenged of you. If any- 
 stubborn heart shall say, God is merciful, and there- 
 fore we may live as we list, and be as careless as we 
 please : take heed, that just law that hath been con- 
 temned, and those righteous statutes that have been 
 broken, and God that hath been provoked by you 
 will be revenged of you. Did ever any provoke the 
 Lord and prosper ? and shall you begin ? Where is 
 Nimrod, and Nebuchadnezzar, and Pharaoh, and 
 Herod, and those proud persons that set their mouths 
 against God, and their hearts against heaven ; what 
 is now become of them ? they are now in the lower- 
 most pit of hell. 
 
 «THE TEXT SAITH SO." 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 How many notorious vile wretches may say, 
 Good Lord, what will become of our families, and 
 villages ? we are all opposers of God and his grace, 
 shall all be damned? I dare not say what God will 
 do to thee, the text saith so. This methinks might 
 lie as poison and rats-bane upon the heart of a sinful 
 creature : the Lord in mercy look upon you, and 
 make sin as lothsome and bitter unto you, as ever it 
 hath been sweet and pleasant. You see how the 
 matter will go with you : you that thus jibe and jest 
 at the Saints, and sport yourselves in sin ; the time 
 may come that it will be a dry feast, as it was with 
 Dives that was drunk, and fared delicious ly every day ; 
 
228 THOMAS HOOKER. 
 
 he had a dry feast in hell, and could not have a drop 
 of water to cool his tongue. So it will be with you ; 
 you must either buckle and mourn for sin, or else 
 burn forever. 
 
 GOD'S ENDLESS MERCY. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 O therefore let us admire and bless this good God, 
 and not quarrel with his Ministers, nor providence, 
 and say, Other men have comfort, and therefore why 
 am I so troubled and disquieted ? How now ? it is 
 endless mercy that thou livest, therefore down with 
 thy proud heart, and stifle those distempers of spirit, 
 and say, The Lord hath broken and wounded me, 
 but blessed be his name, that I may come to Church, 
 and that he hath not dealt with me as I have deserved, 
 but in goodness and mercy ; I hope God in his season 
 will do good to my soul. 
 
 Secondly, let us be wise to nourish this same blessed 
 work in our hearts for ever ; let us have our hearts 
 more and more strengthened, because thereby our 
 hearts will be more and more enabled to bear and 
 undergo any thing; if you have but a little glimpse 
 of hope, cover it : and labor to maintain it, and if 
 ever God let in any glimpse of mercy into our hearts, 
 let it not go out : it is ever good to take that way that 
 God takes ; the Lord sustains our hearts with hope : 
 hope is the sinews of the soul, therefore strengthen it. 
 
 As a mariner that is tossed with a tempest in a dark 
 night, when he sees no stars, he casts anchor, and 
 that cheers him ; this hope is the anchor of the soul, 
 
GOD'S ENDLESS MERCY. 229 
 
 whereby it looks out, and expects mercy from God : 
 the poor soul seeth no light nor comfort, nothing but 
 the wrath of an angry God ; and he saith, God is a 
 just God, and a jealous God ; even that God whose 
 truth I have opposed is displeased with me. Then the 
 soul is tossed and troubled, and runs upon the rocks 
 of despair ; how shall the soul be supported in this 
 condition ? You will find this true one day, therefore 
 look to it before. You vile drunkards are now sailing 
 in a fair gale of pleasure, and carnal delight, but when 
 the Lord's wrath shall seize upon you, when he shall 
 let in the flashes of hell fire, then you are tossed, 
 sometimes up to heaven, now down to hell. There- 
 fore cast anchor now, and this hope will uphold you, 
 for this hope is called the anchor of the soul. 
 

 THOMAS SHEPARD. 
 
 ■ 
 
 Thomas Shepard, a distinguished Puritan divine 
 and "soul-melting preacher," was born in Colches- 
 ter, England, in 1605, and died in Cambridge, 
 Massachusetts, in 1649. A university graduate, like 
 most of his fellows, he was ordained priest in the 
 English Church, and silenced in 1630 by Laud. He 
 remained in England till 1635, emigrated then to 
 America, was settled in Boston, and soon after suc- 
 ceeded Hooker at Cambridge, taking an active part 
 in the Antinomian controversy and in the founding 
 of Harvard University. He was thrice married. 
 The grief which he expresses in the extract here 
 given was for his second spouse, a daughter of his 
 predecessor at Cambridge. It is a uniquely naive 
 tribute to mutual ministration. Shepard was a vo- 
 luminous writer, intoxicated with the thought of the 
 immanent presence of God, and distilling the essence 
 of Calvinism for the most cultured congregation in 
 New England. Grim as was his theology, he seems 
 to have been personally most affable, though he re- 
 veals himself in his autobiography as somewhat mor- 
 bid. As a writer he shows the simpler virtues and 
 some of the artifices of style. As a theologian his 
 repute endured longer than that of most of his fellow 
 Brahmins. An edition of his writings, for use and 
 not for curiosity, was issued, with a memoir by Rev. 
 John A. Albro, in 1853. 
 
 230 
 
THOMAS SHEPARD. 23 1 
 
 FROM THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY. 1 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 TO MY DEARE SON, 
 
 THOMAS SHEPARD, 
 
 With whom I leave these records of God's great 
 
 kindness to him, not knowing that I shall live 
 
 to tell them myselfe with my own mouth, 
 
 that so he may learne to know and 
 
 love the great & most high 
 
 God, 
 
 the god of his father. 
 
 [From the Introduction.] 
 
 And thus after about eleven weeks' sail from Old 
 England, we came to New England shore : where 
 the mother fell sick of a consumption and you, my 
 child, were put to nurse to one Goodwife Hopkins, 
 who was very tender of thee ; and after we had been 
 here divers weeks, on the 7 th of February or there- 
 about, God gave thee the ordinance of baptism, 
 whereby God is become thy God, and is beforehand 
 with thee, that whenever you shall return to God, 
 
 1 Edited by Nehemiah Adams, 1832. The Dedication is not 
 an exact reproduction. 
 
232 THOMAS SHEPARD. 
 
 he will undoubtedly receive you ; and this is a most 
 high and happy privilege ; and therefore bless God 
 for it. And now after this had been done, thy dear 
 mother died in the Lord, departing out of this world 
 to another, who did lose her life by being careful to 
 preserve thine ; for in the ship thou wert so feeble 
 and froward both in the day and night, that hereby 
 she lost her strength, and at last her life. She hath 
 made also many a prayer and shed many a tear in 
 secret for thee ; and this hath been often her request 
 that if the Lord did not intend to glorify Himself by 
 thee, that He would cut thee oft" by death rather than 
 to live to dishonor Him by sin ; and therefore know 
 it that if you shall turn rebel against God and forsake 
 God, and care not for the knowledge of Him nor to 
 believe in His Son the Lord will make all these 
 mercies, woes ; and all thy mother's prayers, tears, 
 and death to be a swift witness against thee at the 
 great day. 
 
 Thus the Lord taking away thy dear mother's 
 life, the Lord takes care for thee and preserved thee 
 in health until the Spring, May 1, 1636. And now 
 the hand of the Lord was stretched out against my 
 child ; so that he had for divers weeks a sore mouth, 
 both within and without ; cheeks and lips full of 
 blisters, so as that he could eat no meat, only suck 
 the breast, by which only he lived a long time, which 
 I did think would have been its death again ; but the 
 Lord being sought unto recovered him again, and 
 then the humor fell into his eyes, . . . which was 
 such a misery that methought now I had rather that 
 the Lord would take away my child by death than 
 let it lead a blind and a miserable life ; but the Lord 
 
HERETICS AND PEQUOTS. 233 
 
 saw my sorrows, my tears, my poor prayers which 
 were in bitterness for him ; and after that I had con- 
 cluded I must have a blind child to be a constant 
 sorrow to me till my death, and was made to be 
 contented to bear the indignation of the Lord because 
 I had sinned, resolving now to fear, nor care nor 
 grieve no more but to be thankful, nay to love the 
 Lord, presently I say upon this by a poor weak 
 means, vizt. the oil of white paper, the Lord restored 
 my child to his sight suddenly and strangely, I may 
 almost say miraculously again, which was no small 
 joy to me and no little encouragement to do the 
 Lord's work that took so much care for me and 
 mine. Now consider, my son, and remember to 
 lift up thy eyes to heaven, to God in everlasting 
 praises of him and dependence upon him ; and take 
 heed thou dost not make thy eyes windows of lust, 
 but give thy eyes, nay thy heart and whole soul and 
 body to him that hath been so careful of thee when 
 thou couldst not care for thyself. 
 
 HERETICS AND PEQUOTS. 
 
 No sooner were we thus set down and entered 
 into Church fellowship ; but the Lord exercised us 
 and the whole country with the opinions of Famil- 
 ists begun by Mrs. Hutchinson, raised up to a great 
 height by Mr. Vane, too suddenly chosen Governor, 
 and maintained too obscurely by Mr. Cotton, and 
 propagated too boldly by the members of Boston, 
 and some in other churches, by means of which 
 divisions by those opinions, the ancient received truth 
 
234 THOMAS SHEPARD. 
 
 came to be darkened, God's name to be blasphemed, 
 the church's glory diminished, many godly grieved, 
 many wretches hardened, deceiving and being de- 
 ceived, growing worse and worse ; . . . At this 
 time I cannot omit the goodness of God as to myself 
 so to all the country in delivering us from the Pekoat 
 furies. . . . those upon the river first gathered 
 about seventy men and sent them into the Pekoat 
 country to make that the seat of war and to revenge 
 the death of those innocents whom they barbarously 
 and most unnaturally slew. . . . they intended to 
 assault Sasukus Fort, but falling short of it the second 
 night the providence of God guided them to another 
 nearer, full of stout men and there brought soldiers, 
 being, as it were, cooped up there, to the number 
 of three or four hundred in all for the Divine slaughter 
 by the hand of the English. . . . Until the Lord 
 had utterly consumed the whole company except four 
 or five girls they took prisoners and dealt with them 
 at Seabrooke as they dealt with ours at Wethersfield, 
 and it is verily thought scarce one man escaped. . . . 
 
 THE FOUNDING OF HARVARD COL- 
 LEGE. 
 
 Thus the Lord having delivered the country from 
 war with Indians and Familists (who arose and fell 
 together), he was pleased to direct the hearts of the 
 magistrates ... to think of erecting a school or 
 college and that speedily to be a nursery of knowledge 
 in these deserts and supply for posterity, and because 
 this town (then called Newtown) was hereto [by] 
 
FOUNDING OF HARVARD COLLEGE. 235 
 
 God's great care and goodness kept spotless from the 
 contagion of the opinions, therefore at the desire of 
 some of our town the deputies of the Court having 
 got Mr. Eaton to attend the school, the Court for that 
 and sundry other reasons determined to erect the col- 
 lege here, which was no sooner done but the chief 
 of the magistrates and elders sent to England to desire 
 help to forward this work, but they all neglecting us 
 (in a manner) the Lord put it into the heart of one 
 Mr. Harvard, who died worth ^1600, to give half 
 of his estate to the erecting of the school. This 
 man was a scholar and pious in his life and enlarged 
 toward the country and the good of it in life and 
 death, but no sooner was this given but Mr. Eaton 
 (professing valiantly yet falsely and most deceitfully 
 the fear of God) did lavish out a great part of it, 
 and being for his cruelty to his scholars, especially to 
 one Briscoe, as also for some other wantonness in life 
 not so notoriously known, driven the country ; the 
 Lord about a year after graciously made up the breach 
 by one Mr. Dunstar, a man pious, painful, and fit to 
 teach and very fit to lay the foundations of the domes- 
 tical affairs of the college ; whom God hath much 
 honored and blest. . . . But thus the Lord hath 
 been very good unto me in planting the place I lived 
 in with such a mercy to myself, such a blessing to 
 my children and the country, such an opportunity of 
 doing good to many by doing good to students, as 
 the school is. 
 
236 THOMAS SHEPARD. 
 
 A DOMESTIC OBITUARY, OCTOBER, 1637. 
 
 The year after those wars in the country God 
 having taken away my first wife, the Lord gave me 
 a second, the eldest daughter of Mr. Hooker, a 
 blessed store ; and the Lord hath made her a great 
 blessing to me to carry on matters in the family with 
 much care and wisdom and to seek the Lord God 
 of her father. . . . 
 
 But the Lord hath not been wont to let me live 
 long without some affliction or other ; and yet ever 
 mixed with some mercy. And therefore, April the 
 2d, 1646, as he gave me another son, John, so he 
 took away my most dear, precious, meek, and loving 
 wife ; having left behind her two hopeful branches, 
 my dear children, Samuel and John. This affliction 
 was very heavy to me ; for in it the Lord seemed to 
 withdraw his tender care for me and mine, which he 
 graciously manifested by my dear wife ; also refused to 
 hear prayer, when I did think he would have heark- 
 ened and let me see his beauty in the land of the living, 
 in restoring of her to health again ; also, in taking her 
 away in the prime time of her life, when she might 
 have lived to have glorified the Lord long ; also, in 
 threatening me to proceed in rooting out my family, 
 and that he would not stop, having begun here, as in 
 Eli, for not being zealous enough against the sins of 
 his son, and I saw that if I had profited by former 
 afflictions of this nature, I should not have had this 
 scourge ; but I am the Lord's, and he may do with 
 me what he will ; he did teach me to prize a little 
 grace, gained by a cross, as a sufficient recompense 
 
A DOMESTIC OBITUARY. 237 
 
 for all outward losses ; but this loss was very great ; 
 she was a woman of incomparable meekness of spirit, 
 toward myself especially, and very loving ; of great 
 prudence to take care for and order my family affairs, 
 being neither too lavish nor sordid in any thing, so 
 that I knew not what was under her hands: She 
 had an excellency to reprove for sin, and discern the 
 evils of men. She loved God's people dearly, and 
 [was] studious to profit by their fellowship, and there- 
 fore loved their company. She loved God's word 
 exceedingly, and hence was glad she could read my 
 notes, which she had to muse on every week. She 
 had a spirit of prayer beyond ordinary of her time and 
 experience. She was fit to die long before she did 
 die, even after the death of her first-born, which was 
 a great affliction to her. But her work not being 
 done then, she lived almost nine years with me, and 
 was the comfort of my life to me ; and the last sac- 
 rament before her lying-in seemed to be full of Christ, 
 and thereby fitted for heaven. She did oft say she 
 should not outlive this child ; and when her fever 
 first began (by taking some cold) she told me so, that 
 we should love exceedingly together, because we 
 should not live long together. Her fever took away 
 her sleep ; want of sleep wrought much distemper in 
 her head, and filled it with fantasies and distractions, 
 but without raging. The night before she died, she 
 had about six hours' unquiet sleep. But that so 
 cooled and settled her head, that when she knew 
 none else, so as to speak to them, yet she knew Jesus 
 Christ, and could speak to him ; and therefore, as 
 soon as she awakened out of sleep, she brake out into 
 a most heavenly, heart-breaking prayer, after Christ, 
 
238 THOMAS SHEPARD. 
 
 her dear Redeemer, for the spirit of life, and so con- 
 tinued praying until the last hour of her death, 
 "Lord, though I [am] unworthy, Lord, one word, 
 one word," etc. ; and so gave up the ghost : thus 
 God hath visited and scourged me for my sins, and 
 sought to wean me from this world. But I have 
 ever found it a difficult thing to profit even but a 
 little by the sorest and sharpest afflictions. 
 
 SELECTIONS FROM THE "MEDI- 
 TATIONS AND SPIRITUAL 
 EXPERIENCES." 
 
 January 9 [1640]. As I was walking in my 
 study, musing on my sermon in Q, 10. That 
 God's mercy was himself, as his justice also was ; 
 the one to the men that come to Christ ; and to 
 those that are out of Christ, the other. Hence I 
 considered, when I come to Christ there is no wrath 
 or justice to devour, but sweet love. Wrath there is 
 for refusing him, not else. It was then objected, 
 But it is to the Elect only. The Lord let me then 
 see I had nothing to do with that but to look on his 
 truth, which is to them that come to him, that he 
 would stand as a rock between the scorching sun and 
 their souls. Hence my heart was sweetly ravished, 
 and began to long to die, and think of being with 
 him. And my heart said, Remember to comfort 
 yourself thus, when you come to lie on your sick bed, 
 to lie under this rock, as in a hot dav. If one saw a 
 
"MEDITATIONS AND EXPERIENCES." 239 
 
 rock in a hot day, should he say, that rock will cool 
 me if I be elected to it, and God has purposed it ; 
 so keep off in fears ? No, God has purposed thus 
 to be a rock to all that come to him, and are drawn 
 by his love. . . . 
 
 January 19. I saw my loose walking without 
 God ; and so was put to a stand, what to say of 
 myself. I saw that hypocrites are far from humbling, 
 because far from conviction : they hope something 
 there is in them. But I brought my heart to con- 
 sider thus, If my state is good, then there is cause of 
 deeper mourning for abusing the Lord, so good ; or 
 my state is not good, and then there is cause of 
 breaking because I am so wretched still ; and so I 
 went to prayer. . . . 
 
 March 17. I began to question, whether Chris- 
 tians generally were so good as they seemed to be ? 
 I thought, [1] They were not so good as the 
 Lord would have them to be, from two arguments. 
 
 ( 1 ) From the want of assurance generally among 
 men. Which argues God is angry, when he doth 
 not appear according as he doth use to do to them 
 who love his name. (2) Because men are better 
 generally under the rod, than under mercy. We see 
 what an admirable Spirit there is under sore afflictions, 
 which men cannot attain to, or keep, but then. Now 
 [zdly] I thought that men were not so good as they 
 appeared to be, ( 1 ) Because very few are recovered 
 to that frame before death, which God will bring 
 them to, that get assurance. Few recover holiness 
 by mercy, or feel the eternal good of sore afflictions. 
 
 (2) Because many eminent professors fall* off and fall 
 away. If they continue long, by some trial or other 
 
24O THOMAS SHEPARD. 
 
 they are made transparent. (3) Because, though 
 others of less holiness may be upright ; yet for us that 
 have more means, not to be more holy and humble, 
 nay not so humble and holy as those that want means, 
 cannot stand with uprightness, generally. My coun- 
 sel therefore is, Let all take heed of being led by 
 example of men, and thinking, We are good because 
 we are like them that be so. . . . 
 
 On the evening of this day [July 9] before the 
 sacrament, I saw it my duty to sequester myself from 
 all other things for the Lord the next day. And 
 (1) I saw, I was to pitch on the right end, (2) on 
 the means, all things to lead me to that end. I saw 
 mine own ends were, to procure honor, pleasure, 
 gain to myself and not the Lord : and I saw how 
 impossible it was for me to attain those ends I should 
 attain, viz., To seek the Lord for himself, to lay up 
 all my honor, pleasure, etc., in him. Or if I did, it 
 was for myself, because good unto me. So the Lord 
 helped me thus. To see, 
 
 ( 1 ) If honor, pleasure was good ; Oh, how good 
 was he who gave them, and could have cut me short 
 of them ? And so my heart was raised up a little 
 unto God. 
 
 (2) I saw my blessedness did not chiefly lie in 
 receiving good and comfort from God, and in God ; 
 but in holding forth the glory of God and his virtues. 
 For 'tis, I saw, an amazing, glorious object, to see 
 God in a creature ; God speak, God act ; the Deity 
 not being the creature and turned into it, but filling 
 of it, shining through it ; to be covered with God, 
 as with a cloud ; or as a glass lantern, to have his 
 beams penetrate through it. Nothing is good but 
 
THE FATE OF THE EVIL SOUL. 24 1 
 
 God ; and I am no further good, than as I hold forth 
 God. The Devil overcame Eve to damn herself by 
 telling her she should be like God. O that's a glo- 
 rious thing ! And should not I be holy, and so be 
 like him indeed ? 
 
 Hereupon I found my heart more sweetly drawn to 
 close with God, thus as my end, and to place my hap- 
 piness in it. And also I saw, it was my misery to hold 
 forth sin and Satan and self in my course. And I saw 
 one of those two things I must do. Now because my 
 soul wanted pleasure, I purposed thus to hold forth 
 God, and did hope it should be my pleasure so to do, 
 as it would be my pain to do otherwise. . . . 
 
 November 14. On the Sabbath day, at night, 
 after sermon, I saw I had preached to others, and 
 had not fed myself. And I seeing it did arise from 
 weakness of faith and light, the Lord suggested the 
 one hundred and third Psalm to me, " He heals all 
 thine infirmities," which quieted my soul somewhat. 
 
 December 18. I saw it my duty so to lament my 
 sin, as that my sorrow should swallow up all the joy I 
 took in anything in this world. And here I remem- 
 bered what it was to afflict one's soul, viz. to make 
 sin as bitter as affliction, and to make it my affliction. 
 
 THE FATE OF THE EVIL SOUL. 
 
 [From The Sincere Convert, 1641, Chap. III.] 
 
 What will become of thine immortal soul when 
 thou art dead ? Thou sayest : " I know not, I hope 
 well." I tell thee therefore that which may send 
 
242 THOMAS SHEPARD. 
 
 thee mourning to thy house, and quaking to thy 
 grave ; if thou diest in this estate, thou shalt not die 
 like a dog, nor yet like a toad ; but after death comes 
 judgment ; then farewell friends when dying ; and 
 farewell God forever when thou art dead. . . . 
 
 Then shall God surrender up thy forsaken soul 
 into the hands of devils, who being thy jailors, must 
 keep thee till the great day of account ; so that as 
 thy friends are scrambling for thy goods, and worms 
 for thy body, so devils shall scramble for thy soul. 
 For as soon as ever a wicked man is dead, he is 
 either in Heaven or in Hell. Not in Heaven, for no 
 unclean thing comes there ; if in Hell then amongst 
 devils ; there shall be thine eternal lodging, and 
 hence thy forlorn soul shall lie mourning for the time 
 past, now, 't is too late to recall again ; groaning 
 under the intolerable torments of the wrath of God 
 present, and amazed at the eternity of misery and 
 sorrow that is to come, waiting for that fearful hour 
 when the last trump shall blow, and then body and 
 soul meet to bear that wrath, that fire that shall never 
 go out. Oh, therefore suspect and fear the worst of 
 thyself now ! . . . 
 
 ... In regard of the fearful sentence that then 
 shall be passed upon thee : " Depart, thou cursed 
 creature, into everlasting fire, prepared for the Devil 
 and his Angels ! Thou shalt then cry out : " O 
 mercy Lord! O a little mercy!" "No," will 
 the Lord Jesus say, " I did indeed once offer it you, 
 but you refused ; therefore Depart ! ' ' 
 
 Then thou shalt plead again : " Lord, if I must 
 depart, yet bless me before I go ! " 
 
 "No, no, Depart, thou cursed !" 
 
THE FATE OF THE EVIL SOUL. 243 
 
 . «« O, but Lord, if I must depart cursed let me go 
 to some good place ! ' * 
 
 « < No ! Depart, thou cursed, into hell fire ! " 
 
 " O Lord, that's a torment I cannot bear ; but if 
 it must be so, Lord, let me come out again quickly ! " 
 
 "No, Depart, thou cursed, into everlasting fire ! * 
 
 " O Lord, if this be thy pleasure that here I must 
 abide let me have good company with me!" 
 
 "No! Depart, thou cursed, into everlasting fire, 
 prepared for the Devil and his Angels ! ' ' 
 
 This shall be thy sentence, the hearing of which 
 may make the rocks to rent. . . . 
 
 . . . Thus (I say) thou shalt lie blaspheming, 
 with God's wrath like a pile of fire on thy soul 
 burning, and floods, nay seas, nay more, seas of tears 
 (for thou shalt forever lie weeping) shall never quench 
 it. And here, which way soever thou lookest, thou 
 shalt see matter of everlasting grief. Look up to 
 heaven, and there thou shalt see (Oh !) that God is 
 forever gone. Look about thee, thou shalt see devils 
 quaking, cursing God ; and thousands, nay, millions 
 of sinful damned creatures crying and roaring out 
 with doleful shriekings : " O the day that ever I was 
 born ! ' ' Look within thee, there is a guilty con- 
 science gnawing. Look to time past ; O those 
 golden days of grace and sweet seasons of mercy are 
 quite lost and gone ! Look to time to come ; there 
 thou shalt behold evils, troops and swarms of sor- 
 rows, and woes and raging waves and billows of 
 wrath coming roaring upon thee. Look to time 
 present ; oh, not an hour or moment of ease or 
 refreshing, but all curses meet together, and feeding 
 upon one poor, lost, immortal Soul, that never can 
 
244 THOMAS SHEPARD. 
 
 be recovered again ! No God, no Christ, no Spirit 
 to comfort thee, no minister to preach unto thee ; no 
 friend to wipe away thy continual tears, no sun to 
 shine upon thee, not a bit of bread, not one drop 
 of water to cool thy tongue ! 
 
 NINE EASY WAYS TO HELL. 
 
 [From the Same, Chap. V.] 
 
 The gate is strait, and therefore a man must sweat 
 and strive to enter ; both the entrance is difficult and 
 the progress of salvation too. Jesus Christ is not got 
 with a wet finger. It is not wishing and desiring to 
 be saved will bring men to Heaven ; Hell's mouth is 
 full of good wishes. It is not shedding a tear at a 
 sermon, or blubbering now and then in a corner, and 
 saying over thy prayers, and crying God's mercy for 
 thy sins, will save thee. It is not a «< Lord, have 
 mercy upon us," will do thee good. It is not com- 
 ing constantly to church ; these are easy matters. 
 But it is a tough work, a wonderful hard matter to 
 be saved. Hence the way to heaven is compared to 
 a race, where a man must put forth all his strength 
 and stretch every limb and all to get forward. Hence 
 a Christian's life is compared to wrestling, Eph. vi. 12. 
 All the policy and power of Hell buckle together 
 against a Christian, therefore he must look to himself, 
 or else he falls. Hence it is compared to fighting, 
 2 Tim. iv. 7, as man must fight against the Devil, 
 the world, himself, who shoot poisoned bullets in the 
 soul, where a man must kill or be killed. God hath 
 
NINE EASY WAYS TO HELL. 245 
 
 not lined the way to heaven with velvet, nor strewed 
 it with rushes. He will never feed a slothful humor 
 in man, who will be saved if Christ and Heaven will 
 drop into their mouths, and if any would bear their 
 charges thither. If Christ might be bought for a few 
 cold wishes and lazy desires, he would be of small 
 reckoning among men, who would say : " Lightly 
 come, lightly go." Indeed Christ's yoke is easy in 
 itself, and when a man is got into Christ, nothing is 
 so sweet ; but for a carnal, dull heart, it is hard to 
 draw in it. . . . 
 
 Now there are nine easy Ways to Heaven (as 
 men think) all of which lead to Hell. 
 
 1 . The common broad Way, wherein a whole 
 parish may all go abreadth in it ; tell these people 
 they shall be damned ; their answer is, " Then woe 
 to many more besides me." 
 
 2. The Way of Civil Education ; whereby many 
 wild natures are by little and little tamed, and like 
 wolves are chained up easily while they are young. 
 
 3. Balaam's Way of good Wishes ; whereby many 
 people will confess their ignorance, forgetfulness, and 
 that they can not make such shows as others do, 
 but they thank God their hearts are as good, and 
 God for his part accepts (say they) the will for the 
 deed. And, " My son, give me thine heart;" 
 the heart is all in all, and so long they hope to do 
 well enough. Poor deluded creatures, thus to think 
 to break through armies of sins, devils, temptations, 
 and to break open the very gates of heaven with a 
 few good wishes ! They think to come to their 
 journey's end without legs, because their hearts are 
 good to God. 
 
246 THOMAS SHEPARD. 
 
 4. The Way of Formality ; whereby men rest 
 in the psrformince of most or of all external duties 
 without inward life. Every man must have some 
 religion, some fig-leaves to hide their nakedness. 
 Now this religion must be either true religion, or the 
 false one ; if the true he must either take up the 
 power of it, but that he will not, because it is bur- 
 densome ; or the form of it, ani this baing easy, 
 men embrace it as their God, and will rather lose 
 their lives than their religion thus taken up. . . . 
 
 5. The Way of Presumption ; whereby men 
 having seen their sins, catch hold easily upon God's 
 mercy, and snatch comforts before they are reached 
 out unto them. There is no word of comfort in 
 the Book of God intended for such as regard iniquity 
 in their hearts, though they do not act it in their 
 lives. Their only comfort is that the sentence of 
 damnation is not yet executed upon them. 
 
 6. The Way of Sloth ; whereby men lie still and 
 say " God must do all." If the Lord would set up 
 a pulpit at the ale-house door, it may be they would 
 hear oftener. If God will always thunder, they will 
 always pray ; if he strike them now and then with 
 sickness, God shall be paid with good words and 
 promises enough, that they will be better if they live ; 
 but as long as peace lasts they will run to Hell as 
 fast as they can ; and if God will not catch them 
 they care not, they will not return. . . . 
 
 7. The Way of Carelessness, when men feeling 
 many difficulties, pass through some of them, but not 
 all, and what they can not get now, they feed them- 
 selves with a false hope they shall hereafter. They 
 are content to be called precisians and fools, and 
 
JUDGMENT AND MERCY. 247 
 
 crazy brains, but they want brokenness of heart, and 
 they will pray (it may be) for it, and pass by that 
 difficulty ; but to keep the wound always open, this 
 they will not do, to be always sighing for help, and 
 never to give themselves rest till their hearts are 
 humbled ; that they will not. These have a name 
 to live, yet are dead. 
 
 8. The Way of Moderation or honest Discretion, 
 which indeed is nothing but luke-warmness of the 
 soul, and that is when a man contrives and cuts out 
 such a way to Heaven, as he may be hated of none, 
 but please all, and so do any thing for a quiet life 
 and so sleep in a whole skin. . . . 
 
 9. And lastly, the Way of Self-Love ; whereby 
 a man fearing terribly he shall be damned, useth dili- 
 gently all means whereby he shall be saved. Here 
 is the strongest difficulty of all, to row against the 
 stream, and to hate a man's self, and then to follow 
 Christ fully. . . . 
 
 JUDGMENT AND MERCY. 
 
 [From "The Parable of the Ten Virgins 
 Opened and Applied," Part II. xix. Section 
 xiii. 1659.] 
 
 Motive 1. Consider the lamentable end of one 
 who dies unready ; some (not all) the Lord leaves 
 for terrors to the secure world, who are as good as 
 men risen from the dead, to tell men of the vanity 
 of their sinful courses, who looking upon time past, 
 they see that it is irrevocably lost and passed, away 
 
248 THOMAS SHEPARD. 
 
 as a dream, and lost as a shadow ; look upon time 
 present, they felt their souls left naked, their accounts 
 not made, an end come to all their hopes and com- 
 forts here, their body sick, their conscience trembling, 
 if not tearing their hearts hard, God departed, the 
 grave opened for their filthy carcasses, and devils 
 waiting for their secure souls. And now, say such, 
 what profit have I for all my vanity under the sun ? 
 Look to time to come ; there they see the throne set, 
 the Lord Jesus on it, their souls standing naked before 
 him, whose grace was great toward them whiles they 
 lived, but whose face is now a consuming fire ; and 
 they behold eternity, even that eternal black gulf 
 between them and the Lord ; and here they lie wish- 
 ing they had taken their time, professing now their 
 time is lost, beseeching others to take warning by 
 them, desiring the prayers of others, yet thinking, 
 though Noah and Samuel should stand before the 
 Lord for them, there is no hope. Come and see 
 them. Do not cast away mercy, cast not away that 
 blood, which is worthy to be gathered up by blessed 
 angels in vessels of gold ; lament and return, and the 
 Lord will to you : . . . 
 
 Motive 2. Consider thou hast but a short time 
 to prepare in, and the time will be then, when thou 
 dost least think of it, Luke xii, 46. The Lord's 
 arrows are now flying abroad ; if you did think you 
 should be next smitten down dead, you would pre- 
 pare ; but you think the Lord delays his coming ; 
 O, remember that time thou dost least think of, 
 Christ will come. . . . 
 
"ALL SHALL BE IN VAIN." 2 LQ 
 
 "ALL SHALL BE IN VAIN." 
 
 [From the Same, Part II. xix. Section xvi.] 
 
 — And hence exceeding wrath is shown, in deny- 
 ing for a time to hear prayer many times ; now look 
 upon the condition of poor sinners dying without 
 Christ ; they shall then cry, and cry earnestly, and 
 yet not prevail ; if the wrath of God did break out 
 at this time, and lie heavy, and the Lord say, Now 
 cry, and I will deliver ; it was no such sorrow, 
 though bitter enough, to lie under wrath one moment ; 
 but to cry, and cry vehemently, Lord, Lord, and 
 never be heard, O, who can bear this ? then tor- 
 ments are intolerable ; hath the Lord no pity ? then 
 cries are many, and hearts are faint ; hath Christ no 
 bowels ? hath this Lamb no more meekness, gentle- 
 ness ? Yes, that there is ; but such is his terror now, 
 they are shut up from you ; and so shall ever be, 
 though you shall cry, and weep as many tears, and 
 more too than the sea hath drops ; and when you 
 cannot come before his face, the gate being shut, you 
 shall cry, that the rocks and mountains may fall upon 
 you to hide you from this wrath of the Lamb ; and 
 you shall then cry, Behold, and see, if ever sorrow 
 were like mine ! but all shall be in vain ! 
 
NATHANIEL WARD. 
 
 Nathaniel Ward, a Colonial clergyman and 
 pamphleteer, who is best known as the " Simple 
 Cobbler of Aga warn," was probably born in Haver- 
 hill, England, about 1578, and died at Shenfield, 
 England, in 1652. Son of John Ward, a noted Puri- 
 tan minister, he was graduated at Cambridge, in 
 1603, and educated for the law, but after practice 
 in England, and travel on the Continent, he studied 
 theology, and in 161 8 became chaplain to a com- 
 pany of English merchants at Elbing, Prussia. Re- 
 turning to England, he served in London, and in 
 1628 was given a parish in Essex. Here his pro- 
 nounced Puritanism caused him to be summoned 
 before Laud, but he escaped excommunication. He 
 was, however, deprived of his living in 1633, went 
 to New England in 1634, and served as assistant 
 pastor at Agawam (Ipswich), till ill-health obliged 
 him to surrender the charge in 1636. At Ipswich he 
 helped to compile the first code of laws, The Body of 
 Liberties (1641), which was fearless and somewhat 
 radical in adapting legal philosophy to the needs of 
 a democratic community. The Simple Cobbler was 
 begun in 164.5 and printed in January, 1647, before 
 Ward's return to England. Three other editions, 
 with important additions and changes, speedily fol- 
 lowed. It was reprinted in 1 7 1 3 and again in 1 843 
 250 
 
NATHANIEL WARD. 25 I 
 
 at Boston. Under the Commonwealth, Ward was 
 made minister of the church at Shenfield (1648), and 
 held that office till his death, publishing several religio- 
 political pamphlets, none of which is noteworthy. 
 The Simple Cobbler is a small book, easily read 
 through, and in spite of its bitterness, and its lack of 
 toleration, so full of quaint originality, grim humor 
 and power, that it is probably the most interesting 
 literary performance with which we have to deal in 
 this volume. 
 
THE 
 
 SIMPLE COBLER 
 
 OF 
 
 AGGAWAM IN AMERICA 
 
 WILLING 
 
 To help 'mend his Native Country, lamentably 
 
 tattered, both in the upper-Leather and sole, 
 
 with all the honest stitches he can take. 
 
 And as willing never to be paid for his work, 
 
 by Old English wonted pay. 
 // is his trade to patch all the year long, gratis 
 Therefore I pray Gentlemen keep your purses. 
 
 By Theodore de la Guard 
 
 In rebus arduis ac tenui spe y fortissima 
 quaeque consilia tutissima sunt. Cic. 
 
 In English 
 
 When boots and shoes are torne up to the lefts, 
 Coblers must thrust their awles up to the hefts. 
 
 This is no time to feare Apelles gramm : 
 Ne Sutor quidem ultra crepidam. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 Printed by J. D. & R. I. for Stephen Boivtell, at the 
 signe of the Bible in Popes Head-Alley, 1647. 
 
AGAINST TOLERATION. 253 
 
 AGAINST TOLERATION. 
 
 Either I am in an appolexy, or that man is in a 
 lethargy who doth not now sensibly feel God shaking 
 the heavens over his head and the earth under his 
 feet. . . . Satan is now in his passions, he feels 
 his passion approaching, he loves to fish in royled 
 waters. Though that dragon cannot sting the vitals 
 of the elect mortally, yet that Beelzebub can fly-blow 
 their intellectuals miserably. The finer religion 
 grows, the finer he spins his cobwebs, he will hold 
 pace with Christ so long as his wits will serve him. 
 
 . . . We have been reputed a Colluvies of wild 
 Opinionists, swarmed into a remote wilderness to find 
 elbow-room for our fanatic doctrines and practices. 
 I trust our diligence past, and constant sedulity against 
 such persons and courses, will plead better things for 
 us. I dare take upon me to be the herald of New 
 England so far as to proclaim to the world in the name 
 of our colony, that all Familists, Antinomians, Anabap- 
 tists, and other enthusiasts, shall have free liberty to 
 keep away from us, and such as will come to be gone 
 as fast as they can, the sooner the better. . . . 
 
 Here is lately brought us an extract of a Magna 
 Charta so called, compiled between the sub-planters 
 of a West Indian Island ; whereof the first article of 
 consituplation, firmly provides free stable room and 
 litter for all kind of consciences, be they never so 
 
254 NATHANIEL WARD. 
 
 dirty or jadish ; making it actionable, yea, treason- 
 able, to disturb any man in his religion, or to discom- 
 mend it, whatever it be. . . . If the devil might 
 have his free option I believe he would ask nothing 
 else but liberty to enfranchise all false religions and to 
 embondage the truth ; nor should he need. . . . 
 
 My heart hath naturally detested four things ; The 
 Standing of the Apochrypha in the Bible ; Foreigners 
 dwelling in my country, to crowd our native subjects 
 into the corners of the earth ; Alchymized coins ; 
 Toleration of divers religions or of one religion in 
 segregant shapes. He that willingly assents to the 
 last, if he examines his heart by daylight, his con- 
 science will tell him he is either an Atheist or an 
 Heretic or an Hyprocrite or at best a captive to some 
 lust. Poly-piety is the greatest impiety in the 
 world. ... I lived in a city, where a Papist 
 preached in one church, a Lutheran in another, a 
 Calvinist in a third ; a Lutheran one part of the day, 
 a Calvinist the other, in the same pulpit ; the religion 
 of that place was but motley and meager, their affec- 
 tions, leopard-like. . . . To authorize an untruth, 
 by a toleration of State is to build a sconce against the 
 walls of heaven to batter God out of His chair. . . . 
 
 A WISE STATE WILL COMPOSE, NOT 
 TOLERATE DIFFERENCES IN RELI- 
 GION. 
 
 That State is wise, that will improve all pains and 
 patience rather to compose, then tolerate differences 
 in religion. There is no divine truth, but hath much 
 
AGAINST TOLERATION. 255 
 
 celestial fire in it from the Spirit of Truth : nor no 
 irreligious untruth, without its proportion of antifire 
 from the spirit of error to contradict it : the zeal of 
 the one, the virulency of the other, must necessarily 
 kindle combustions. Fiery diseases seated in the 
 spirit, imbroil the whole frame of the body: others 
 more external and cool, are less dangerous. They 
 which divide in religion, divide in God ; they who 
 divide in him, divide beyond Genus Generalissimum y 
 where there is no reconciliation, without atonement ; 
 that is, without uniting in him, who is One, and in 
 his Truth, which is also one. 
 
 Wise are those men who will be persuaded rather 
 to live within the pale of truth where they may be 
 quiet, than in the purlieus, where they are sure to 
 be haunted ever and anon, do authority what it can. 
 Every singular opinion, hath a singular opinion of 
 itself; and he that holds it a singular opinion of him- 
 self, and a simple opinion of all contra-sentients : he 
 that confutes them, must confute at three at once, or 
 else he does nothing ; which will not be done with- 
 out more stir than the peace of the State or Church 
 can endure. 
 
 And prudent are those Christians, that will rather 
 give what may be given, then hazard all by yielding 
 nothing. To sell all peace of country, to buy some 
 peace of conscience unseasonably, is more avarice 
 than thrift, imprudence than patience : they deal not 
 equally, that set any truth of God at such a rate ; 
 but they deal wisely that will stay till the market is 
 fallen. 
 
 My prognostics deceive me not a little, if once 
 within three seven years, peace prove not such a 
 
256 NATHANIEL WARD. 
 
 penny-worth at most marts in Christendom, that he 
 that would not lay down his money, his lust, his 
 opinion, his will, I had almost said the best flower of 
 his crown for it, while he might have had it, will 
 tell his own heart, he played the very ill husband. 
 
 Concerning tolerations I may further assert. 
 
 That persecution of true religion and toleration of 
 false, are the Jannes and Jambres to the Kingdom of 
 Christ, whereof the last is far the worst. Augus- 
 tine* s tongue had not owed his mouth one pennyrent 
 though he had never spake word more in it, but this, 
 Nullum malum pejus libertate errandi. 
 
 Frederick Duke of Saxon, spake not one foot beyond 
 the mark when he said. He had rather the earth 
 should swallow him up quick, than he should give 
 a toleration to any opinion against any truth of God. 
 
 He that is willing to tolerate any religion, or dis- 
 crepant way of religion, besides his own, unless it be 
 in matters merely indifferent, either doubts of his 
 own, or is not sincere in it. 
 
 He that is willing to tolerate any unsound opinion, 
 that his own may also be tolerated, though never so 
 sound, will for a need hang God's Bible at the 
 Devil's girdle. 
 
 Every toleration of false religions, or opinions hath 
 as many errors and sins in it, as all the false religions 
 and opinions it tolerates, and one sound one more. 
 
 That state that will give liberty of conscience in 
 matters of religion, must give liberty of conscience 
 and conversation in their moral laws, or else the fid- 
 dle will be out of tune, and some of the strings 
 crack. 
 
 He that will rather make an irreligious quarrel with 
 
AGAINST TOLERATION. 257 
 
 other religions than try the Truth of his own by val- 
 uable arguments, and peaceable sufferings ; either his 
 religion, or himself is irreligious. 
 
 Experience will teach Churches and Christians, that 
 it is far better to live in a state united, though a little 
 corrupt, then in a state, whereof some part is incor- 
 rupt, and all the rest divided. 
 
 I am not altogether ignorant of the eight rules 
 given by orthodox divines about giving tolerations, 
 yet with their favour I dare affirm, 
 
 That there is no Rule given by God for any state 
 to give an affirmative toleration to any false religion, 
 or opinion whatsoever ; they must connive in some 
 cases, but may not concede in any. 
 
 That the state of England (so far as my intelligence 
 serves) might in time have prevented with ease and 
 may yet without any great difficulty deny both tolera- 
 tion, and irregular connivences salva Republica. 
 
 That if the state of England shall either willingly 
 tolerate, or weakly connive at such courses, the church 
 of that kingdom will sooner become the devil's danc- 
 ing-school, than God's temple : The Civil State a 
 bear-garden, than an exchange : The whole Realm a 
 Pais base than an England. And what pity it is, that 
 that country which hath been the staple of truth to all 
 Christendom, should now become the aviary of errors 
 to the whole world, let every fearing heart judge. 
 
 I take liberty of conscience to be nothing but^ a 
 freedom from sin and error. Conscientia in tantum 
 libera in quantum ab errore liberata. And liberty of 
 error nothing but a prison for conscience. Then 
 small will be the kindness of a state to build such 
 prisons for their subjects. 
 
258 NATHANIEL WARD. 
 
 The Scripture saith, there is nothing makes free 
 but truth, and truth saith, there is no truth but one : 
 If the States of the World would make it their sum- 
 operous care to preserve this one truth in its purity 
 and authority it would ease you of all other political 
 cares. I am sure Satan makes it his grand, if not 
 only task, to adulterate truth ; Falsehood is his sole 
 sceptre, whereby he first ruffled, and ever since ruined 
 the World. 
 
 If truth be but one, methinks all the opinionists 
 in England should not be all in that one truth, some 
 of them I doubt are out. He that can extract an 
 unity out of such a disparity, or contract such a dis- 
 parity into an unity ; had need be a better artist, than 
 ever was DrebelL 
 
 If two centres (as we may suppose) be in one 
 circle, and lines drawn from both to all the points of 
 the compass, they will certainly cross one another, 
 and probably cut through the centres themselves. 
 
 There is talk of an universal toleration, I would 
 talk as loud as I could against it, did I know what 
 more apt and reasonable sacrifice England could offer 
 to God for his late performing all his heavenly truths 
 than an universal toleration of all hellish errors, or 
 how they shall make an universal reformation, but by 
 making Christ's academy the Divil's university, where 
 any man may commence heretic per saltum ; where he 
 that is filius Diabo/icus, or simpliciter pessimus y may 
 have his grace to go to Hell cum Publico Privilegio ; 
 and carry as many after him, as he can. . . . 
 
 It is said, though a man have light enough himself 
 to see the truth, yet if he hath not enough to enlighten 
 others, he is bound to tolerate them, I will engage 
 
AGAINST TOLERATION. 259 
 
 my self, that all the devils in Britanie shall sell them- 
 selves to their shirts, to purchase a lease of this posi- 
 tion for three of their lives, under the seale of the 
 Parliament. 
 
 It is said, that men ought to have liberty of their 
 conscience, and that it is persecution to debar them 
 of it : I can rather stand amazed than reply to this : it 
 is an astonishment to think that the brains of men 
 should be parboiled in such impious ignorance. Let 
 all the wits under the heavens lay their heads together 
 and find an assertion worse than this (one excepted) 
 I will petition to be chosen the universal idiot of the 
 world. 
 
 It is said, That civill magistrates ought not to med- 
 dle with ecclesiastical matters. 
 
 I would answer to this so well as I could, did I 
 not know that some papers lately brought out of New- 
 England, are going to the Press, wherein the opinions 
 of the Elders there in a late Synod, concerning this 
 point are manifested, which I suppose will give 
 clearer satisfaction than I can. 
 
 The true English of all this their false Latin, is 
 nothing but a general toleration of all opinions : which 
 motion if it be like to take, it were very requisite, that 
 the City would repair PauP ' s with all the speed they 
 can, for an English Pantheon, and bestow it upon the 
 sectaries, freely to assemble in, then there may be 
 some hope that London will be quiet in time. . . . 
 
 If all be true we hear, never was any people 
 under the sun so sick of new opinions as Englishmen 
 nor of new fashions as Englishwomen. If God help 
 not the one and the devil leave not helping the other, a 
 blind man may easily foresee what will become of both. 
 
)0 NATHANIEL WARD. 
 
 CONCERNING WOMEN'S FASHIONS. 
 
 Should I not keep promise in speaking a little to 
 Women's fashions, they would take it unkindly. I 
 was loath to pester better matter with such stuff; I 
 rather thought it meet to let them stand by them- 
 selves, like the Quse Genus in the grammar, being 
 deficients, or redundants, not to be brought under 
 any rule : I shall therefore make bold for this once, 
 to borrow a little of their loose-tongued liberty, and 
 misspend a word or two upon their long-waisted, but 
 short-skirted patience : a little use of my stirrup will 
 do no harm. ... 
 
 It is known more than enough, that I am neither 
 niggard, nor cynic, to the due bravery of the true 
 gentry. I honor the woman that can honor her- 
 self with her attire ; a good text always deserves a 
 fair margent ; I am not much offended if I see a trim 
 far trimmer than she that wears it. In a word, 
 whatever Christianity or civility will allow, I can 
 afford with London measure : but when I hear a 
 nugiperous gentledame inquire what dress the queen 
 is in this week : what the nudiustertian fashion of 
 the court ; I mean the very newest ; with egg to be 
 in it in all haste, whatever it be ; I look at her as the 
 very gizzard of a trifle, the product of a quarter of a 
 cipher, the epitome of nothing, fitter to be kicked, if 
 she were of a kickable substance, than either honored 
 or humored. 
 
 To speak moderately, I truly confess it is beyond 
 the ken of my understanding to conceive how those 
 women should have any true grace, or valuable vir- 
 
CONCERNING WOMEN'S FASHIONS. 26 1 
 
 tue, that have so little wit, as to disfigure themselves 
 with such exotic garbs, as not only dismantles their 
 native lovely lustre, but transclouts them into gant bar- 
 geese, ill-shapen-shotten shell-fish, Egyptian hiero- 
 glyphics, or at the best into French flurfs of the 
 pastery, which a proper English woman should scorn 
 with her heels. It is no marvel they wear drails 
 on the hinder part of their heads, having nothing as 
 it seems in the forepart, but a few squirrels' brains 
 to help them frisk from one ill-favored fashion to 
 another. 
 
 These whim Crown'd shes, these fashion-fancying wits, 
 Are empty thin brain'd shells, and fiddling Kits. 
 
 The very troublers and impoverishers of mankind, J 
 can hardly forbear to commend to the world a saying 
 of a lady living some time with the Queen of Bohe- 
 mia ; I know not where she found it, but it is pity it 
 should be lost. 
 
 The world is full of care, much like unto a bubble, 
 Women and care, and care and Women, and Women and care 
 and trouble. 
 
 The verses are even enough for such odd pegma's. 
 I can make myself sick at any time, with comparing 
 the dazzling splendor wherewith our gentlewomen 
 were embellished in some former habits, with the 
 gut-foundered goosedom, wherewith they are now 
 surcingled and debauched. We have about five or 
 six of them in our colony : if I see any of them acci- 
 dentally, I cannot cleanse my fancy of them for a 
 month after. I have been a solitary widower almost 
 twelve years, purposed lately to make a step over to 
 
262 NATHANIEL WARD. 
 
 my native country for a yoke-fellow : but when I 
 consider how women there have tripe-wifed them- 
 selves with their cladments, I have no heart to the 
 voyage, lest their nauseous shapes and the sea, should 
 work too sorely upon my stomach. J speak sadly ; 
 methinks it should break the hearts of English men, 
 to see so many goodly English women imprisoned 
 in French cages, peering out of their hood holes for 
 some men of mercy to help them with a little wit, 
 and nobody relieves them. 
 
 It is a more common than convenient saying, that 
 nine tailors make a man : it were well if nineteen 
 could make a woman to her mind. If tailors were 
 men indeed, well furnished but with mere moral prin- 
 ciples, they would disdain to be led about like apes, 
 by such mimic marmosets. It is a most unworthy 
 thing for men that have bones in them, to spend their 
 lives in making fiddle-cases for futilous women's fan- 
 cies ; which are the very pettitoes of infirmity, the 
 giblets of perquisquilian toys. I am so charitable to 
 think, that most of that mystery would work the 
 cheerfuller while they live, if they might be well dis- 
 charged of the tiring slavery of mistiring women. It 
 is no little labor to be continually putting up English 
 women, into outlandish casks ; who if they be not 
 shifted anew, once in a few months, grow too sour 
 for their husbands. What this trade will answer for 
 themselves when God shall take measure of tailors' 
 consciences is beyond my skill to imagine. There 
 was a time when, 
 
 The joining of the Red Rose with the White, 
 Did set our State into a Damask plight. 
 
CONCERNING WOMEN'S FASHIONS. 263 
 
 But now our roses are turned to fiore de lices, our 
 carnations to tulips, our gillyflowers to daisies, our 
 city dames, to an. indenominable qua?malry of over- 
 turcased things. He that makes coats for the moon, 
 had need take measures every noon : and he that makes 
 for women, as often, to keep them from lunacy. 
 
 I have often heard divers ladies vent loud feminine 
 complaints of the wearisome varieties and chargeable 
 changes of fashions : I marvel themselves prefer not a 
 bill of redress. I would Essex ladies would lead the 
 chore, for the honor of their county and persons ; or 
 rather the thrice honorable ladies of the court, whom it 
 best beseems : who may well presume of a Le Roy le 
 veult from our sober King, a Les Seigneurs ont assen- 
 tus from our prudent peers, and the like Assentus, from 
 our considerate, I dare not say wife-worn Commons ; 
 who I believe had much rather pass one such bill, 
 than pay so many tailor's bills as they are forced to 
 do. 
 
 Most dear and unparalleled ladies, be pleased to 
 attempt it : as you have the precellency of the 
 women of the world for beauty and feature ; so 
 assume the honor to give, and not take law from 
 any, in matter of attire. If ye can transact so fair a 
 motion among yourselves unanimously, I dare say, 
 they that most renite, will least repent. What 
 greater honor can your honors desire, than to build a 
 promontory precedent to all foreign ladies, to deserve 
 so eminently at the hands of all the English gentry 
 present and to come : and to confute the opinion of 
 all the wise men in the world ; who never thought 
 it possible for women to do so good a work. 
 
 If any man think I have spoken rather merrily than 
 
264 NATHANIEL WARD. 
 
 seriously he is much mistaken, I have written what 
 I write with all the indignation I can, and no more 
 than I ought. I confess I veered my tongue to this 
 kind of language de industria though unwillingly, sup- 
 posing those I speak to are uncapable of grave and 
 rational arguments. 
 
 I desire all ladies and gentlewomen to understand 
 that all this while I intend not such as through neces- 
 sary modesty to avoid morose singularity, follow 
 fashions slowly, a flight shot or two off, showing by 
 their moderation, that they rather draw countermont 
 with their hearts, than put on by their examples. 
 
 I point my pen only against the light-heeled bea- 
 gles that lead the chase so fast, that they run all 
 civility out of breath, against these ape-headed pul- 
 lets, which invent antique fool-fangles, merely for 
 fashion and novelty sake. 
 
 In a word, if I begin once to declaim against 
 fashions, let men and women look well about them, 
 there is somewhat in the business ; I confess to the 
 world, I never had grace enough to be strict in that 
 kind ; and of late years, I have found syrup of pride 
 very wholesome in a due dose, which makes me keep 
 such store of that drug by me, that if any body 
 comes to me for a question-full or two about fashions, 
 they never complain of me for giving them hard 
 measure, or under weight. 
 
 But I address myself to those who can both hear 
 and mend all if they please : I seriously fear, if the 
 pious Parliament do not find time to state fashions, 
 as ancient Parliaments have done in some part, God 
 will hardly find a time to state religion or peace. They 
 are the surquedries of pride, the wantonness of idle- 
 
CONCERNING WOMEN'S FASHIONS. 265 
 
 ness, provoking sins, the certain prodromies of assured 
 judgment, Zeph. i. 7, 8. 
 
 It is beyond all account how many gentlemen's 
 and citizens' estates are deplumed by their feather- 
 headed wives, what useful supplies the pannage of 
 England would afford other countries, what rich re- 
 turns to itself, if it were not sliced out into male and 
 female fripperies : and what a multitude of misem- 
 ployed hands might be better improved in some more 
 manly manufactures for the public weal. It is not 
 easily credible, what may be said of the preterplurali- 
 ties of tailors in London : I have heard an honest 
 man say, that not long since there were numbered 
 between Temple-bar and Charing-Cross, eight thou- 
 sand of that trade ; let it be conjectured by that pro- 
 portion how many there are in and about London, 
 and in all England they will appear to be very nu- 
 merous. If the Parliament would please to mend 
 women, which their husbands dare not do, there 
 need not so many men to make and mend as there 
 are. I hope the present doleful estate of the realm 
 will persuade more strongly to some considerate course 
 herein than I now can. 
 
 Knew I how to bring it in, I would speak a word 
 to long hair, whereof I will say no more but this : 
 if God proves not such a Barber to it as he threatens, 
 unless it be amended, Esa. vii. 20, before the peace 
 of the state and church be well settled, then let my 
 prophecy be scorned, as a sound mind scorns the riot 
 of that sin, and more it needs not. If those who 
 are termed rattleheads and impuritans, would take up 
 a resolution to begin in moderation of hair, to the 
 just reproach of those that are called Puritans and 
 
266 NATHANIEL WARD. 
 
 Roundheads, I would honor their manliness as much 
 as the others' godliness, so long as I knew what man 
 or honor meant : if neither can find a barber's shop, 
 let them turn in, to Psal. lxviii. 21, Jer. vii. 29, 
 1 Cor. xi. 14. If it be thought no wisdom in men 
 to distinguish themselves in the field by the scissors, 
 let it be thought no injustice in God, not to distin- 
 guish them by the sword. I had rather God should 
 know me by my sobriety, than mine enemy not know 
 me by my vanity. He is ill kept, that is kept by his 
 own sin. A short promise is a far safer guard than a 
 long lock : it is an ill distinction which God is loath 
 to look at, and his angels can not know his saints by. 
 Though it be not the mark of the beast, yet it may 
 be the mark of a beast prepared to slaughter. I am 
 sure men use not to wear such names ; I am also 
 sure soldiers use to wear other marklets or notadoes 
 in time of battle. 
 
 Of Reformation. 
 
 When states are so reformed that they conform 
 such as are profligate into good civility ; civil men, into 
 religious morality ; when Churches are so constituted, 
 that Faith is ordained pastor, Truth teacher, Holiness 
 and Righteousness ruling elders ; Wisdom and Charity 
 deacons ; Knowledge, love, hope, zeal, heavenly-mind- 
 edness, meekness, patience, watchfulness, humility, 
 diligence, sobriety, modesty, chastity, constancy, 
 prudence, contentation, innocency, sincerity, etc., 
 admitted members, and all their opposites excluded : 
 then there will be peace of country and conscience. 
 
 Did the servants of Christ know what it is to live 
 in Reformed Churches with unreformed spirits, under 
 
OF REFORMATION. 267 
 
 strict order with loose hearts ; how forms of Religion 
 breed but forms of godliness ; how men by church- 
 discipline learn their church-postures, and there rest : 
 — they would pray as hard for purity of heart, as 
 purity of ordinances. If we mock God in these, 
 He will mock us ; either with defeat of our hopes, 
 or which is worse, when we have what we so much 
 desire, we shall be so much the worse for it. It was 
 a well salted speech, uttered by an English christian 
 of a Reformed Church in the Netherlands: "We 
 have the good orders here, but you have the good 
 christians in England." He that prizes not Old 
 England graces, as much as New-England ordinances, 
 had need go to some other market before he comes 
 hither. In a word, he that is not pastor, teacher, ruler, 
 deacon and brother to himself, and looks not at Christ 
 above all, it matters not a farthing whether he be 
 Presbyterian or Independent ; he may be a zealot in 
 bearing witness to which he likes best, and yet an 
 Iscariot to both, in the witness of his own conscience. 
 I have upon strict observation seen so much power 
 of godliness and spiritual-mindedness in English chris- 
 tians, living merely upon sermons and private duties, 
 hardly come by, when the Gospel was little more 
 than symptomatica! to the state ; such epidemical and 
 lethal formality in other disciplinated churches, that I 
 profess in the hearing of God, my heart hath mourned, 
 and mine eyes wept in secret, to consider what will 
 become of multitudes of my dear countrymen when 
 they shall enjoy what they now covet. Not that 
 good ordinances breed ill consciences, but ill con- 
 sciences grow stark naught under good ordinances ; 
 insomuch that might I wish an hypocrite the most 
 
268 NATHANIEL WARD. 
 
 perilous place but Hell, I should wish him a member- 
 ship in a strict Reformed Church : and might I wish 
 a sincere servant of God the greatest grief earth can 
 afford, I should wish him to live with a pure heart, 
 in a church impurely reformed ; yet through the im- 
 provement of God's Spirit, that grief may sanctify 
 him for God's service and presence, as much as the 
 means he would have, but cannot. 
 
 A WORD OF IRELAND. 
 
 Not of the Nation universally, nor of any man in it, that hath so 
 much as one hair of Christianity or Humanity growing on his 
 Head or Beard, but only of the truculent Cutthroats, and such 
 as shall take up Arms in their Defence. 
 
 These Irish anciently called Anthropophagi, man- 
 eaters, have a tradition among them, that when the 
 Devil showed our Saviour all the Kingdoms of the 
 Earth and their glory, that he would not show him 
 Ireland, but reserved it for himself; it is probably 
 true, for he hath kept it ever since for his own pecul- 
 iar ; the old Fox foresaw it would eclipse the glory 
 of all the rest. He thought it wisdom to keep the 
 Land for a Boggards for his unclean spirits employed 
 in this Hemisphere, and the people, to do his son and 
 heir, I mean the Pope, that service for which Louis 
 the Eleventh kept his Barber Oliver, which makes 
 them so blood-thirsty. They are the very offal of 
 men, dregs of mankind, reproach of Christendom, the 
 bots that crawl on the Beast's tail, I wonder Rome 
 itself is not ashamed of them. 
 
PRAISE OF MISTRESS BRADSTREET. 269 
 
 I beg upon my hands and knees that the expedition 
 against them may be undertaken while the hearts and 
 hands of our soldiery are hot, to whom I will be bold 
 to say briefly : Happy is he that shall reward them as 
 they have served us, and cursed be he that shall do 
 that work of the Lord negligently. Cursed be he that 
 holdeth back his sword from blood : yea, cursed be 
 he that maketh not his sword stark drunk with Irish 
 blood, that doth not recompense them double for their 
 hellish treachery to the English, that maketh them not 
 heaps upon heaps, and their country a dwelling place 
 for Dragons, an Astonishment to Nations. Let not 
 that eye look for pity, nor that hand to be spared, that 
 pities or spares them, and let him be accursed, that 
 curseth not them bitterly. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 Poetry's a gift wherein but few excell ; 
 He doth very ill that doth not passing well. 
 But he doth passing well that doth his best, 
 And he doth best that passeth all the rest. 
 
 IN PRAISE OF MISTRESS BRADSTREET. 
 
 [Prefixed to " The Tenth Muse." 1650.] 
 
 Mercury show'd Apollo, Bartas' book, 
 
 Minerva this, and wish'd him well to look, 
 
 And tell uprightly, which did which excel : 
 
 He view'd and view'd, and vow'd he could not tell. 
 
 They bid him hemisphere his mouldy nose, 
 
 With 's crack* d leering glasses, for it would pose 
 
270 
 
 NATHANIEL WARD. 
 
 The best brains he had in 's old pudding-pan, 
 Sex weigh' d, which best, the woman or the man t. 
 He peer'd, and por'd, and glar'd, and said for wore, 
 I'm even as wise now, as I was before. 
 They both 'gan laugh, and said, it was no mar'l 
 The auth'ress was a right Du Bartas girl. 
 Good sooth, quoth the old Don, tell me ye so, 
 I muse whither at length these girls will go. 
 It half revives my chill frost-bitten blood, 
 To see a woman once do aught that's good ; 
 And chode bv Chaucer's Doots and Homer : s furs. 
 Let men look tia\. lesr womeii wear the spu r s. 
 
ANNE BRADSTREET. 
 
 Anne Bradstreet, the chief poetess of Colonial 
 America, was probably born at Northampton, about 
 1 6 1 2, and died in Boston, September 16, 1672. She 
 was a daughter of Governor Thomas Dudley, and mar- 
 ried the future Governor Bradstreet in 1628. With 
 him she went to New England (1630), and in the 
 intervals of household duties involved in the rearing 
 of eight children, became a devoted author, who 
 won for herself from her compatriots the admiring 
 designation, " The Tenth Muse." Her poems were 
 published under a title which gives a tabular view of 
 their contents, to wit: "The Tenth Muse, lately 
 Sprung up in America, or Several Poems Compiled 
 with Great Variety of Wit and Learning, Full of De- 
 light, Wherein especially is Contained a Complete 
 Discourse and Description of the Four Elements, Con- 
 stitutions, Ages of Man, Seasons of the Year, together 
 with an exact Epitome of the Four Monarchies, 
 viz., The Assyrian, Persian, Grecian, Roman. Also 
 a Dialogue between Old England and New, con- 
 cerning the late troubles. With divers other pleasant 
 and serious Poems, By a Gentlewoman in those parts " 
 (London, 1650). A second, this time American, 
 edition appeared at Boston six years after her death, 
 with additions, among which is Contemplations, her 
 best poem. Her complete works were edited by 
 271 
 
272 ANNE BRADSTREET. 
 
 J. H. Ellis (1867), and for the Society of the 
 Duodecimos, 1897, with an introduction by Pro- 
 fessor Charles Eliot Norton, one of Mrs. Bradstreet's 
 descendants. 
 
 Mrs. Bradstreet's verses are in the main a store- 
 house of curious information, the most curious thing 
 about them being the admiration they excited. Cot- 
 ton Mather said they "would outlast the stateliest 
 marble." Other contemporaries "weltered in de- 
 light" or were "sunk in a sea of bliss " at their 
 perusal. They were at least the best of her land and 
 generation. They show an indomitable assertion of 
 a woman's right to thought and learning. The Four 
 Monarchies is based on Sir Walter Raleigh's History 
 of the World, but she drew her chief poetic inspira- 
 tion from Sylvester's translation of the French epic of 
 Creation by Du Bartas. As one of the first Ameri- 
 can writers to devote herself to literature for its own 
 sake, she deserves an honored place in the history of 
 New England culture. Nor is it certain that her 
 genuine talents have received just recognition from 
 posterity. She is not a Tenth Muse or a Sappho, 
 but her works are no more disappointing than those 
 of belauded contemporary British poetesses like " the 
 Matchless Orinda" (Mrs. Katharine Phillips). It 
 is quite true that much of her poetry is hopelessly pon- 
 derous and dull, in the style of her favorite English 
 master, Joshua Sylvester. It is true also that at first 
 she seems to have no eye for the beauties of nature, 
 and that she gives us no entertaining realistic pic- 
 tures of primitive New England life. But it is 
 equally true that her work shows improvement, that 
 in all probability Spenser became her master instead 
 
THE PROLOGUE. 273 
 
 of Sylvester, and that in the stanzas entitled, Contem- 
 plations she showed a feeling both for nature and for 
 style. Her verses to her husband and her children 
 are heartfelt and simple, and her prose Observations 
 show her to have been possessed of a mind not lack- 
 ing in clearness and depth. She tells us plainly that 
 she found the ways of the New World trying to a 
 woman of gentle rearing, and she shows, perhaps un- 
 consciously, that she could not bring herself to con- 
 template God entirely on his sterner side. In fine, 
 her writings show her to have been a gifted woman, 
 in whom it is quite possible for latter-day readers to 
 take a respectful interest. 
 
 THE PROLOGUE. 
 
 To sing of wars, of captains, and of kings, 
 Of cities founded, commonwealths begun, 
 
 For my mean pen are too superior things : 
 
 Or how they all, or each, their dates have run, 
 
 Let poets and historians set these forth, 
 
 My obscure lines shall not so dim their worth. 
 
 But when my wondering eyes and envious heart 
 Great Bartas' sugared lines do but read o'er, 
 
 Fool I do grudge the Muses did not part 
 
 'Twixt him and me that ever fluent store : — 
 
 A Bartas can do what a Bartas will, 
 
 But simple I according to my skill. 
 
 From school-boys' tongue no rhetoric we expect, 
 Not yet a sweet consort from broken strings, 
 
274 ANNE BRADSTREET. 
 
 Nor perfect beauty where 's a main defect : 
 
 My foolish, broken, blemished Muse so sings : 
 And this to mend, alas, no art is able, 
 'Cause nature made it so irreparable. 
 
 Nor can I, like that fluent, sweet-tongued Greek 
 Who lisped at first, in future time speak plain ; 
 
 By art he gladly found what he did seek — 
 A full requital of his striving pain ; 
 
 Art can do much, but this maxim 's most sure : 
 
 A weak or wounded brain admits no cure. 
 
 I am obnoxious to each carping tongue 
 Who says my hand a needle better fits ; 
 
 A poet's pen all scorn I should thus wrong; 
 For such despite they cast on female wits ; 
 
 If what I do prove well, it won't advance — 
 
 They '11 say it 's stolen, or else it was by chance. 
 
 But sure the antique Greeks were far more mild, 
 Else of our sex why feigned they those nine, 
 
 And Poesy made Calliope's own child ? 
 
 So 'mongst the rest they placed the Arts Divine ; 
 
 But this weak knot they will full soon untie — 
 
 The Greeks did naught but play the fools and lie. 
 
 Let Greeks be Greeks, and women what they are 
 Men have precedency, and still excel, 
 
 It is but vain unjustly to wage war : 
 
 Men can do best, and women know it well ; 
 
 Preeminence in all and each is yours — 
 
 Yet grant some small acknowledgment of ours. 
 
FOUR AGES OF MAN. 275 
 
 And oh, ye high flown quills that soar the skies, 
 And ever with your prey still catch your praise, 
 
 If e'er you deign these lowly lines your eyes, 
 Give thyme or parsley wreath ; I ask no bays, 
 
 This mean and unrefined ore of mine 
 
 Will make you glistering gold, but more to shine. 
 
 NUMA POMPILIUS. 
 
 [From "The Four Monarchies.' 1 ] 
 
 Numa Pompilius next chose they king, 
 
 Held for his piety some sacred thing. 
 
 To Janus he that famous temple built, 
 
 Kept shut in peace, set ope when blood was spilt 
 
 Religious rites amd customs instituted, 
 
 And priests and flamens likewise he deputed, 
 
 Their augurs strange, their gestures and attire, 
 
 And vestal maids to keep the holy fire. 
 
 The nymph Aegeria this to him told, 
 
 So to delude the people he was bold. 
 
 Forty-three years he ruled with generous praise, 
 
 Accounted for a god in after days. 
 
 OF THE FOUR AGES OF MAN. 
 
 Lo, now four other act upon the stage, 
 Childhood and Youth, the Manly and Old Age : 
 The first son unto phlegm, grandchild to water, 
 Unstable, supple, cold and moist 's his nature. 
 The second, frolic, claims his pedigree 
 
2/6 ANNE BRADSTREET. 
 
 From blood and air, for hot and moist is he. 
 
 The third of fire and choler is compos' d, 
 
 Vindicative and quarrelsome dispos'd. 
 
 The last of earth and heavy melancholy, 
 
 Solid, hating all lightness and all folly. 
 
 Childhood was cloth' d in white and green to show 
 
 His spring was intermixed with some snow : 
 
 Upon his head nature a garland set 
 
 Of Primrose, Daisy and the Violet. 
 
 Such cold mean flowers the spring puts forth betime, 
 
 Before the sun hath throughly heat the clime. 
 
 His hobby striding did not ride but run, 
 
 And in his hand an hour-glass new begun, 
 
 In danger every moment of a fall, 
 
 And when 't is broke then ends his life and all : 
 
 But if he hold till it have run its last, 
 
 Then may he live out threescore years or past. 
 
 Next Youth came up in gorgeous attire 
 
 (As that fond age doth most of all desire), 
 
 His suit of crimson and his scarf of green, 
 
 His pride in 's countenance was quickly seen ; 
 
 Garland of roses, pinks and gillyflowers 
 
 Seemed on 's head to grow bedew' d with showers. 
 
 His face as fresh as is Aurora fair, 
 
 When blushing she first 'gins to light the air. 
 
 No wooden horse, but one of mettle tried, 
 
 He seems to fly or swim, and not to ride. 
 
 Then prancing on the stage, about he wheels, 
 
 But as he went death waited at his heels. 
 
 The next came up in a much graver sort, 
 
 As one that cared for a good report, 
 
 His sword by 's side, and choler in his eyes, 
 
 But neither us'd as yet, for he was wise ; 
 
PRINCESS QUEEN ELIZABETH. 277 
 
 Of Autumn's fruits a basket on his arm, 
 
 His golden god in 's purse, which was his charm. 
 
 And last of all to act upon this stage 
 
 Leaning upon his staff came up Old Age, 
 
 Under his arm a sheaf of wheat he bore, 
 
 An harvest of the best, what needs he more ? 
 
 In 's other hand a glass ev'n almost run, 
 
 Thus writ about : «< This out, then am I done." 
 
 IN HONOR OF THAT HIGH AND MIGHTY 
 PRINCESS QUEEN ELIZABETH OF HAPPY 
 MEMORY. 
 
 The Proem. 
 
 Although, great queen, thou now in silence lie, 
 
 Yet thy loud herald, fame, doth to the sky 
 
 Thy wondrous worth proclaim in every clime, 
 
 And so hath vowed while there is world or time. 
 
 So great 's thy glory and thine excellence 
 
 The sound thereof rapts every human sense, 
 
 That men account it no impiety 
 
 To say thou wert a fleshly deity. 
 
 Thousands bring offerings, though out of date, 
 
 Thy world of honors to accumulate ; 
 
 'Mongst hundred hecatombs of roaring verse, 
 
 Mine bleating stands before thy royal hearse. 
 
 Thou never didst nor canst thou now disdain 
 
 To accept the tribute of a loyal brain : 
 
 Thy clemency did erst esteem as much 
 
 The acclamations of the poor as rich, 
 
 Which makes me deem my rudeness is no wrong, 
 
 Though I resound thy praises 'mongst the throng. 
 
2/8 ANNE BRADSTREET. 
 
 The Poem. 
 
 No phenix pen, nor Spenser's poetry, 
 No[r] Speed's nor Camden's learned history, 
 Eliza's works, wars, praise, can e'er compact; 
 The world's the theatre where she did act. 
 No memories nor volumes can contain 
 The eleven olympiads of her happy reign, 
 Who was so good, so just, so learned, so wise, 
 From all the kings on earth she won the prize. 
 Nor say 1 more than duly is her due ; 
 Millions will testify that this is true. 
 She hath wiped off the aspersion of her sex, 
 That women wisdom lack to play the rex. 
 
 A LOVE-LETTER TO HER HUSBAND. 
 
 [From the Edition of 1678.] 
 
 Phcebus make haste, the day 's too long, begone, 
 
 The silent night 's the fittest time for moan ; 
 
 But stay this once, unto my suit give ear, 
 
 And tell my griefs in either Hemisphere : 
 
 (And if the whirling of thy wheels don't drown' d 
 
 The woful accents of my doleful sound), 
 
 if in thy swift career thou canst make stay, 
 
 I crave this boon, this errand by the way : 
 
 Commend me to the man more lov'd than life, 
 
 Show him the sorrows of his widow' d wife, 
 
 My dumpish thoughts, my groans, my brackish tears, 
 
 My sobs, my longing hopes, my doubting fears, 
 
 And, if he love, how can he there abide ? 
 
A LOVE-LETTER. 279 
 
 My interest 's more than all the world beside. 
 
 He that can tell the stars or Ocean sand, 
 
 Or all the grass that in the meads do stand, 
 
 The leaves in th' woods, the hail or drops of rain, 
 
 Or in a cornfield number every grain, 
 
 Or every mote that in the sunshine hops, 
 
 May count my sighs and number all my drops. 
 
 Tell him, the countless steps that thou dost trace, 
 
 That once a day thy spouse thou mayst embrace ; 
 
 And when thou canst not treat by loving mouth, 
 
 Thy rays afar, salute her from the south. 
 
 But for one month I see no day (poor soul) 
 
 Like those far situate under the pole, 
 
 Which day by day long wait for thy arise, 
 
 O how they joy when thou dost light the skies. 
 
 O Phoebus, hadst thou but thus long from thine 
 
 Restrain'd the beams of thy beloved shine, 
 
 At thy return, if so thou couldst or durst, 
 
 Behold a Chaos blacker than the first. 
 
 Tell him here 's worse than a confused matter, 
 
 His little world 's a fathom under water, 
 
 Naught but the fervor of his ardent beams 
 
 Hath power to dry the torrent of these streams. 
 
 Tell him I would say more, but cannot well, 
 
 Opressed minds- abruptest tales do tell. 
 
 Now post with double speed, mark what I say, 
 
 By all our loves conjure him not to stay. 
 
280 ANNE BRADSTREET. 
 
 CONTEMPLATIONS. 
 
 [From the Edition of 1678.] 
 
 Some time now. past in the autumnal tide, 
 
 When Phoebus wanted but one hour to bed, 
 The trees all richly clad, yet void of pride, 
 
 Were gilded o'er by his rich golden head. 
 Their leaves and fruits seem'd painted, but was true 
 Of green, of red, of yellow, mixed hue, 
 Rapt were my senses at this delectable view. 
 
 I wist not what to wish, yet sure, thought I, 
 
 If so much excellence abide below, 
 How excellent is He that dwells on high ! 
 
 Whose power and beauty by his works we know ; 
 Sure he is goodness, wisdom, glory, light, 
 That hath this underworld so richly dight : 
 More heaven than earth was here, no winter and no 
 night. 
 
 Then on a stately oak I cast mine eye, 
 
 Whose ruffling top the clouds seem'd to aspire ; 
 
 How long since thou wast in thine infancy ? 
 
 Thy strength, and stature, more thy years admire ; 
 
 Hath hundred winters past since thou wast born, 
 
 Or thousand since thou brakest thy shell of horn ? 
 
 If so, all these as naught eternity doth scorn. 
 
 Then higher on the glistering sun I gaz'd, 
 Whose beams was shaded by the leavie tree ; 
 
 The more I look'd, the more I grew amaz'd, 
 And softly said, What glory 's like to thee? 
 
CONTEMPLATIONS. 28 1 
 
 Soul of this world, this universe's eye, 
 No wonder, some made thee a deity : 
 Had I not better known (alas), the same had I. 
 
 Thou as a bridegroom from thy chamber rushes, 
 And, as a strong man, joys to run a race ; 
 
 The morn doth usher thee, with smiles and blushes, 
 The earth reflects her glances in thy face. 
 
 Birds, insects, animals with vegetive, 
 
 Thy heart from death and dulness doth revive . 
 
 And in the darksome womb of fruitful nature dive. 
 
 Thy swift annual, and diurnal course, 
 
 Thy daily straight, and yearly oblique path, 
 
 Thy pleasing fervor, and thy scorching force, 
 All mortals here the feeling knowledge hath. 
 
 Thy presence makes it day, thy absence night, 
 
 Quaternal seasons caused by thy might : 
 
 Hail creature, full of sweetness, beauty and delight. 
 
 Art thou so full of glory, that no eye 
 
 Hath strength, thy shining rays once to behold ? 
 And is thy splendid throne erect so high, 
 
 As to approach it, can no earthly mould ? 
 How full of glory then must thy Creator be, 
 Who gave this bright light lustre unto thee ! 
 Admir'd, ador'd forever, be that Majesty. 
 
 Silent, alone, where none or saw or heard, 
 In pathless paths I led my wandering feet ; 
 
 My humble eyes to lofty skies I reared, 
 
 To sing some song my mazed Muse thought meet. 
 
282 ANNE BRADSTREET. 
 
 My great Creator I would magnify- 
 That nature had thus decked liberally ; 
 But ah, and ah again, my imbecillity ! 
 
 I heard the merry grasshopper then sing, 
 The black-clad cricket bear a second part, 
 
 They kept one tune, and played on the same string, 
 Seeming to glory in their little art. 
 
 Shall creatures abject thus their voices raise ? 
 
 And in their kind resound their Maker's praise : 
 
 Whilst I, as mute, can warble forth no higher lays. 
 
 When I behold the heavens as in their prime, 
 
 And then the earth (though old) still clad in green, 
 
 The stones and trees, insensible of time, 
 
 Nor age nor wrinkle on their front are seen ; 
 
 If winter come, and greenness then do fade, 
 
 A Spring returns, and they more youthful made ; 
 
 But Man grows old, lies down, remains where once 
 he 's laid. 
 
 By birth more noble than those creatures all, 
 Yet seems by nature and by custom curs' d, 
 
 No sooner born, but grief and care makes fall 
 That state obliterate he had at first : 
 
 Nor youth, nor strength, nor wisdom spring again, 
 
 Nor habitations long their names retain, 
 
 But in oblivion to the final day remain. 
 
 Shall I then praise the heavens, the trees, the earth, 
 Because their beauty and their strength last longer ? 
 
 Shall I wish there or never to had birth, 
 
 Because they 're bigger and their bodies stronger? 
 
CONTEMPLATIONS. 283 
 
 Nay, they shall darken, perish, fade, and die, 
 And when unmade so ever shall they lie ; 
 But man was made for endless immortality. 
 
 * * * * * * * 
 
 The mariner that on smooth waves doth glide 
 
 Sings merrily, and steers his bark with ease, 
 As if he had command of wind and tide, 
 
 And now become great master of the seas ; 
 But suddenly a storm spoils all the sport, 
 And makes him long for a more quiet port, 
 Which 'gainst all adverse winds may serve for fort. 
 
 So he that faileth in this world of pleasure, 
 Feeding on sweets, that never bit of the sour, 
 
 That 's full of friends, of honor, and of treasure, 
 Fond fool, he takes this earth e'en for heaven's bower. 
 
 But sad affliction comes, and makes him see 
 
 Here 's neither honor, wealth, nor safety ; 
 
 Only above is found all with security. 
 
 O Time, the fatal wrack of mortal things, 
 That draws oblivion's curtains over kings, 
 
 Their sumptuous monuments, men know them not, 
 Their names without a record are forgot, 
 
 Their parts, their ports, their pomp 's all laid in th' 
 dust, 
 
 Nor wit nor gold, nor buildings 'scape time's rust ; 
 
 But he whose name is grav'd in the white stone 
 
 Shall last and shine when all of these are gone. 
 
284 ANNE BRADSTREET. 
 
 THE AUTHOR TO HER BOOK. 
 
 Thou ill-formed offspring of my feeble brain, 
 
 Who after birth didst by my side remain 
 
 Till snatched from thence by friends less wise than true 
 
 Who thee abroad exposed to public view, 
 
 Made thee, in rags, halting, to the press to trudge, 
 
 Where errors were not lessened, all may judge, 
 
 At thy return my blushing was not small, 
 
 My rambling brat — in print — should mother call. 
 
 I cast thee by as one unfit for light, 
 
 Thy visage was so irksome in my sight ; ' 
 
 Yet being mine own, at length affection would 
 
 Thy blemishes amend, if so I could. 
 
 I washed thy face, but more defects I saw, 
 
 And rubbing off a spot still made a flaw. 
 
 I stretched thy joints to make thee even feet, 
 
 Yet still thou run'st more hobbling than is meet. 
 
 In better dress to trim thee was my mind, 
 
 But naught save homespun cloth i' th' house I find. 
 
 In this array 'mongst vulgars mayst thou roam, 
 
 In critics' hands beware thou dost not come, 
 
 And take thy way where yet thou art not known. 
 
 If for thy father asked, say thou hadst none ; 
 
 And for thy mother, she, alas, is poor, 
 
 Which caused her thus to send thee out of door. 
 
 [From "Prose and Verse," Addressed "To My 
 Dear Children." First Printed in "1 867.] 
 
 In a long fit of sickness which I had on my bed I 
 often communed with my heart, and made my sup- 
 
RESTORATION OF DEAR HUSBAND. 285 
 
 plication to the Most High, who set me free from 
 that affliction. 
 
 But as I grew up to be about fourteen or fifteen I 
 found my heart more carnal, and, sitting loose from 
 God, vanity and the follies of youth take hold of me. 
 
 About sixteen the Lord laid his hand sore upon 
 me and smote me with the small-pox. When I was 
 in my affliction, I besought the Lord, and confessed 
 my pride and vanity, and he was entreated of me 
 and again restored me. But I rendered not to him 
 according to the benefit received. 
 
 After a short time I changed my condition and was 
 married, and came into this country, where I found a 
 new world and new manners, at which my heart rose. 
 But after I was convinced it was the way of God, I 
 submitted to it and was joined to the church at Boston. 
 
 FOR THE RESTORATION OF MY DEAR 
 HUSBAND FROM A BURNING AGUE, 
 JUNE, 1661. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 When fears and sorrows me beset, 
 
 Then didst thou rid me out ; 
 When heart did faint and spirits quail, 
 
 Thou comforts me about. 
 
 Thou rais'st him up I feared to lose, 
 
 Regav'st me him again ; 
 Distempers thou didst chase away, 
 
 With strength didst him sustain. 
 
286 ANNE BRADSTREET. 
 
 My thankful heart, with pen record 
 The goodness of thy God : 
 
 Let thy obedience testify 
 He taught thee by his rod, 
 
 And with his staff did thee support, 
 That thou by both mayst learn, 
 
 And 'twixt the good and evil way 
 At last thou might' st discern. 
 
 Praises to him who hath not left 
 
 My soul as destitute, 
 Nor turned his ear away from me, 
 
 But granted hath my suit. 
 
 MEDITATIONS DIVINE AND MORAL. 
 [First printed in 1867.] 
 
 IV. A ship that bears much sail, and little or no 
 ballast, is easily overset ; and that man, whose head 
 hath great abilities, and his heart little or no grace, 
 is in danger of foundering. . . . 
 
 X. Diverse children have their different natures : 
 some are like flesh which nothing but salt will keep 
 from putrefaction ; some again like tender fruits that are 
 best preserved with sugar. Those parents are wise that 
 can fit their nurture according to their nature. . . . 
 
 LXVIII. The gifts that God bestows on the sons 
 of men, are not only abused, but most commonly em- 
 ployed for a clean contrary end than that which they 
 
MEDITATIONS. 287 
 
 were given for ; as health, wealth, and honor, which 
 might be so many steps to draw men to God in consid- 
 eration of his bounty towards them, but have driven 
 them the further from him, that they are ready to say, 
 We are lords, we will come no more at thee. If out- 
 ward blessings be not as wings to help us mount up- 
 wards, they will certainly prove clogs and weights 
 that will pull us lower downward. 
 
COTTON MATHER 
 From the painting by R. Pelham 
 
Colonial Prose and Poetry 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 WILLIAM P. TRENT 
 
 AND 
 
 BENJAMIN W. WELLS 
 
 THE 
 BEGINNINGS OF AMERICANISM 
 
 1650-1710 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 THOMAS Y. CROWELL CO. 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
iIlOlUw/ 
 
 Copyright, 1901, 1903, 
 BY THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 - 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Edward Johnson . 
 
 I 
 
 John Eliot 
 
 
 
 20 
 
 Michael Wigglesworth 
 
 
 
 47 
 
 John Josselyn . . , 
 
 
 
 61 
 
 Daniel Gookin . , 
 
 
 
 77 
 
 Thomas Wheeler 
 
 
 
 99 
 
 Peter Folger . 
 
 
 
 1 11 
 
 William Penn . , 
 
 
 
 "5 
 
 Daniel Denton 
 
 
 
 121 
 
 George Alsop . 
 
 
 
 129 
 
 Bacon's Rebellion 
 
 
 
 146 
 
 William Hubbard 
 
 
 
 , 181 
 
 Mary Rowlandson . 
 
 
 
 ■ 193 
 
 Urian Oakes . 
 
 
 
 205 
 
 Increase Mather • 
 
 
 
 . 215 
 
 Cotton Mather 
 
 
 
 . 23 1 
 
 Samuel Sewall 
 
 
 
 . 286 
 
 Sarah Kemble Knight 
 
 
 
 ■ 3 2 7 
 
 Robert Beverly 
 
 
 
 . 347 
 

 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 This second volume carries the presentation of 
 American life and thought as expressed in its colonial 
 literature through the first decade of the eighteenth 
 century. It seemed best to include in the general 
 view of colonial literary development given in the 
 introduction to the former volume many of the writers 
 who are presented here, since the logical division of 
 colonial literature is into two periods, while considera- 
 tions of a practical character render a division into 
 three volumes more desirable. 
 
 The year 1688, the date chosen for the close of 
 the first period, corresponds closely with 1676 and 
 the Rebellion of Bacon in political history. The 
 former inaugurated the change which the latter year 
 presaged, and it is at least a curious coincidence that 
 this should be separated by exactly a century from the 
 Declaration of Independence of which it held the 
 presage and the germ. Sixteen hundred and seventy- 
 six was also a year of import alike in New England 
 and in Virginia. It, too, witnessed an outbreak 
 against autocratic misrule, though the storm centre 
 was in Virginia rather than in the Puritan Colonies, 
 and the time was not yet ripe for patriotic insur- 
 rection. The same year in New England was the 
 crisis of King Philip's War. So, as the chief his- 
 torian of our colonial literature, the late Professor 
 
VI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Moses Coit Tyler, has observed, for those two central 
 English communities that year established two great 
 facts : first, that the English colonists already felt 
 themselves so individualized in their national life as to 
 be capable of resisting the authority of England ; and, 
 secondly, that they had so developed their colonial 
 existence as to be able to put down any combination 
 of Indians that might be formed against them. It 
 was as evident to them, from that year onward, as it 
 is to us to-day, not merely that their settlement was safe 
 from annihilation through any outward attack, but also, 
 and hardly less evident, at least to the thoughtful, that 
 they were drifting apart from the mother country in 
 their modes of thought and ideals of democracy. 
 
 These facts, quite evident to the student of the 
 politics of 1676, soon become evident to the student 
 of literature also. They are unmistakable in Sewall 
 and Beverly. The whole spirit of Sarah Kemble 
 Knight is that of an independent American woman 
 who to-day would be president of a woman's club. 
 There are foreshadowings of the new spirit, too, in 
 earlier authors, more especially in Johnson, and 
 Gookin, and Folger, though doubtless these elements 
 are more obvious to us, who view them in the light 
 of history, than they were to the contemporaries of 
 those writers, who, with the people for whom they 
 wrote, were building better than they knew for the 
 future of America. 
 
 This gradual transformation of our literature may 
 be noticed in almost every department of it, but 
 poetry and theology, being by their nature artificial 
 forms of literary expression, had least of the new 
 spirit, and with these we may begin our general 
 
INTRODUCTION. vil 
 
 survey. The historians, diarists, chroniclers, with 
 social reformers such as Gookin, lived more in the 
 press of history in the making, and in these we shall 
 find, therefore, most that is distinctively American. 
 It is not difficult to imagine an Increase or a Cotton 
 Mather, a Wigglesworth or an Oakes in England, 
 even in the days of James or of Mary, but we should 
 hardly find there the like of Gookin, and we should 
 probably have to descend considerably beyond the days 
 of Anne before we should find the like of Judge Sewall 
 or of Sarah Knight. 
 
 Among the poets we have chosen Urian Oakes as 
 typical of the Fantastic School, or, as Dr. Johnson 
 called it, the Metaphysical School. To his con- 
 temporary, Increase Mather, he seemed "one of the 
 greatest lights that ever shone in this part of the 
 world, or that is ever likely to arise on this horizon." 
 Indeed, there have been those, even in our more criti- 
 cal time, to whom this product of our "autochtho- 
 nous culture" has seemed to exhibit "splendid literary 
 capacity," to be at once "affluent, stately, pathetic, 
 beautiful, and strong." But in the words of Urian 
 Oakes himself, "daring hyperboles have here no 
 place," and the reader is likely to perceive in his 
 verse no high reach of original genius. Wigglesworth, 
 on the other hand, was distinctively original. There 
 is little or nothing like The Day of Doom in literature, 
 nor like to be, and in its kind it is so good that its 
 jingling verses cling to the mind even of those to 
 whom their conceptions are most foreign, quaint, or 
 even ludicrous. They are thoroughly genuine, — the 
 product of study, indeed, but of study that has trans- 
 lated itself into the life of the soul with a realistic 
 
vill INTRODUCTION. 
 
 vision that may be grotesque but is none the less ter- 
 rible. No other colonial book was more popular in 
 its own day, and very few are more worthy to be read 
 in our own, for the picture afforded of the ideals 
 by which and through which the more strenuous of 
 our American ancestors wrought out their contribu- 
 tion to the national character in striving for individual 
 salvation. 
 
 But we should get a false idea, even of the poetry 
 of this period, if we were to seek its representatives 
 merely in the verse-writers of whom Oakes and 
 Wigglesworth are typical. Neither classical culture 
 nor intensity of religious conviction could keep even 
 poets from the pressing problems of daily life, and so 
 the crude poem of Folger is here to remind us that for 
 these colonists, as for later reformers, the truth of 
 conviction lay in the application of it ; that Christian- 
 ity was not only a scheme of salvation to be studied 
 in Wigglesworth' s doggerel verse, but a mode of life 
 to be practised toward the Indians and even toward 
 those fellow-Christians who, having separated from 
 the Separatists, had become to them anathema. In 
 Folger we have one of the first efforts to turn poetry 
 to the use of politics in our American life. He was 
 destined later to find many imitators. In general, 
 however, it is clear that the poetry represented in this 
 volume is a survival of a not very vigorous past. It 
 is not here that we are to look, in the first instance at 
 least, for literature that shall be interpretative of life. 
 
 Nor shall we find it any longer even in the theolo- 
 gians. These bore an important part in our first vol- 
 ume; now they are relegated to a minor place. But 
 four of the prose writers from whom this volume con- 
 
INTRODUCTION. ix 
 
 tains selections were clergymen, and but two of these, 
 the Mathers, were very typical of their class. The 
 contrast between this period and the preceding is so 
 great as to be surprising until we recognize in it 
 the natural result of the development of independent 
 colonial, life. Our prose writers are still in the main 
 New Englanders, either by birth or choice. The 
 biographers of Bacon, and Denton, Alsop, Penn, and 
 Beverly are the only exceptions that find place in 
 this volume. All the more marked then is the change 
 of temper that has come over New England since 
 King Philip's War. At the very outset we find a 
 prototype of the new temper in Edward Johnson, 
 that sturdily characteristic Puritan, whose faith in 
 wonder-working providences was accompanied by a 
 zeal to cooperate in them, alike in ecclesiastical and in 
 civic life. He seems to move in the constant thought 
 of an overruling Providence, yet to lose nothing of 
 his self-dependence, and his attitude to his God finds 
 a sort of counterpart in that assurance which he was 
 selected to present to the English king "of loyalty 
 with a determination to maintain all rights and priv- 
 ileges." The Apostolic Eliot too was a practical 
 statesman and man of action, as well as an indefati- 
 gable missionary and somewhat credulous linguist, — 
 sincere, sweet, winning, lovable, full of the dauntless 
 confidence of faith, yet full, too, of a sort of canny 
 wisdom in which we recognize incipient New Eng- 
 land. The Mathers belong rather in temper to a 
 generation whose passing away they witnessed. They 
 were of the Brahmin caste, hereditary clergymen and 
 hierarchs, conservatives to the core, lauding old times 
 and bewailing the new, piling up literary monuments 
 
X INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of indefatigable industry for the admiration, if not the 
 edification, of their successors, — prodigious in their 
 learning, philanthropic in their spirit, but sympathiz- 
 ing in their nature with that which was reactionary, 
 ascetic, and pedantic, in a generation that was already 
 beginning to feel the intoxication of liberty. The 
 very bulk of the work of the Mathers makes them 
 loom large in any literary prospect of this period, yet 
 their importance is rather as illustrative of the past 
 than as indicative of what to them was present or 
 future. It is not without interest, however, to find 
 in Cotton Mather a municipal reformer contending 
 against very much the same evils as those that vex 
 the American cities of to-day, and seeking to meet 
 them with the same well-meant exaggeration of ex- 
 hortation, and the same inability to adapt inherited 
 standards to changing social ideals. This same repre- 
 sentative of fantastic pedantry was also, in his advocacy 
 of the application of the principle of collective activity 
 to the problems of moral reform, the precursor by a 
 century and a half of another Boston clergyman, Dr. 
 Edward Everett Hale, and he was one of the most 
 resolute advocates of inoculation for smallpox. And 
 Increase Mather representing his colony in England 
 was a forerunner of Franklin. 
 
 Turning now to that more numerous and more in- 
 teresting group of writers who deal with colonial life 
 as they saw it, whether as annalists such as Hubbard 
 and Gookin, as descriptive writers like Denton and 
 Alsop, as diarists like Sewall and Knight, as genially 
 credulous travellers like Josselyn, or as aristocrats of 
 colonial democracy like Penn, we find ourselves im- 
 mediately in a more congenial atmosphere. Already 
 
INTRODUCTION. XI 
 
 in Josselyn there is a breezy frankness of criticism, a 
 sense of humor, that is refreshingly human, a curiosity 
 quite worthy of the Yankee that he was not, as though 
 in his brief sojourn he had been inoculated with the 
 virus of New England, and with something of that 
 credulity that is apt to go with "smartness." This 
 distinctively new note is caught most clearly in our 
 extract dealing with the " Men of Maine." An- 
 other New England trait, the minding of other 
 people's business for their good, found one of its first 
 noteworthy representatives in Daniel Gookin, English 
 by birth, Puritan in feeling, but sufficiently catholic in 
 sympathy to cover effectively with the mantle of his 
 charity, not merely the fugitive English regicides, 
 perhaps no very parlous task in the New England of 
 that day, but even, what was a far more serious offence 
 in the eyes of his fellow-countrymen, those Christian 
 Indians of whom he had been made superintendent, 
 and of whose doings and sufferings he was the first 
 chronicler, sacrificing, as many a New Englander has 
 done since, popularity and preferment to the impera- 
 tive demands of his social conscience. 
 
 With Indians, but in quite another spirit, deal also 
 those other New Englanders, Wheeler and Hubbard. 
 The latter was a clergyman, which is somewhat sig- 
 nificant, as on the whole, although he does appear 
 occasionally in his clerical capacity, he stands rather 
 for lay activities, having been a paid historiographer, 
 and noted among his admiring fellow-colonists as an 
 " elegant writer." His popular account of the Ind- 
 ian Wars displays little of the charitable spirit of 
 Gookin ; it betrays the Puritan, but hardly the clergy- 
 man. It might easily have been the work of such a 
 
Xll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 layman as Johnson, but hardly the work of a clerical 
 contemporary of that New England worthy. 
 
 Mary Rowlandson's Diary stands quite apart among 
 these historical writings, as a poignant story of per- 
 sonal suffering, told with a detailed simplicity that 
 makes it a real work of primitive, unconscious, and, 
 it must be confessed, uncharming art. The two 
 other New England Diarists embraced in this volume 
 of extracts, Judge Sewall and Mrs. Knight, are of 
 quite different character, both from Mrs. Rowlandson 
 and from one another. The former's voluminous 
 notations appear to have been dictated in part by the 
 not uncommon, though seldom justified, assumption 
 that as nothing human was foreign to his sympathies, 
 so nothing that interested him could fail to interest 
 others. In part it was no doubt a desire to preserve, 
 for his own use, a record of daily happenings and 
 thoughts. In part it appears to have been a sort of 
 confessional to which he confided the records of his 
 moral auto- stethoscope. Perhaps no other produc- 
 tion in the whole range of New England's colonial 
 literature contains more of real value or more of curious 
 interest than this work, wholly lacking as it is, for the 
 main, in continuity, proportion, or constructive unity 
 of any kind. 
 
 Last of New Englanders, and latest in time of the 
 writers included in this volume, is Sarah Kemble 
 Knight, whose story of her venturesome journey from 
 Boston to New York in the year 1704 has many of 
 those qualities of literary excellence that Sewall' s 
 Diary conspicuously lacks, and makes us understand 
 her contemporary reputation as a teacher of composi- 
 tion. She is sprightly, graphic, and tells us more 
 
INTRODUCTION. Xlll 
 
 than we should otherwise know or guess of the 
 customs of colonial life outside of the pulpit, the 
 assembly hall, and the domestic fireside. She must 
 have had some power of imparting the genial liveli- 
 ness of her style, for she had the honor of training 
 in the rudiments of English that past master among 
 eighteenth century writers, Benjamin Franklin. 
 
 Turning now to the South we find that the dis- 
 parity between the literary output here and in New 
 England is hardly less than in the former volume, and, 
 indeed, if the total bulk of the literature is regarded, 
 the difference is even greater than our extracts indicate. 
 Yet, in some respects the smaller output is the more 
 significant. What is most typical in the literature of 
 the eighteenth century, what brings American litera- 
 ture and thought in closest touch with the world 
 movement of that period, is less the writing that has 
 its roots in New England culture than that which 
 derives itself from the life of the Middle and Southern 
 colonies. Franklin here is typical, and Franklin, 
 though a New Englander by birth and early educa- 
 tion, has in him more of Penn and Alsop, Denton 
 and Beverly, than he has of Hooker or Wigglesworth, 
 or even of Sewall or Gookin. The literature of the 
 Middle Colonies is less serious, less intense, less stimu- 
 lating than that of New England. It has in it far 
 less of learning, but it is in more sympathetic touch 
 with the amenities of life. The conventions of the 
 ministerial pulpit are no longer felt. There is a lighter 
 touch natural to men whose ideals are secular rather 
 than religious ; and just over the border line of this 
 second volume we shall meet in Col. Wm. Byrd of 
 Virginia a writer and a personage who faintly suggests 
 
XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Voltaire. It is from this point of view that we regret 
 that space did not permit quotations from Gabriel 
 Thomas's sprightly account of West New Jersey and 
 Pennsylvania, but the latter colony got more perhaps 
 of its impress from the character if not from the writ- 
 ing of Penn. It is indeed around Philadelphia that 
 for the next half century interest centres in the 
 literary evolution of America, not, of course, for the 
 bulk of its performance, but for its typical character 
 and the witness that it bears to a more balanced and 
 in a sense a wider culture — the culture of toleration 
 and secularism. 
 
EDWARD JOHNSON. 
 
 Captain Edward Johnson, author of the rambling 
 but sturdy and characteristically Puritan " Wonder- 
 Working Providence of Zion's Saviour in New 
 England," was born at Heme Hill, Kent, England, 
 in 1599, and died at Woburn, Massachusetts, April 
 23, 1672. It is thought that he came to New Eng- 
 land with Winthrop, in 1630, and certain that he 
 took an active part in organizing the church and the 
 town of Woburn, in 1642. He held public office 
 almost continuously till his death, was town represen- 
 tative, recorder, speaker, colonial commissioner, 
 and something of a soldier. All that can be learned 
 of him is industriously gathered in the late Wm. F. 
 Poole's introduction to his valuable reprint of the 
 " Wonder- Working Providence" (1867). John- 
 son seems to have been a typical Puritan layman, 
 bold, resourceful, and stern, with a sternness that 
 came from the abiding thought of the immediate 
 presence of a somewhat anthropomorphic God. His 
 historical treatise, which carries the story of Massa- 
 chusetts through the year 1651, three years before 
 its publication in London, was written to defend the 
 colony against unjust criticisms, and was based on 
 first-hand information. Unfortunately, the author 
 was very uncritical, and while we cannot but admire 
 his strenuously eulogistic tone when he writes of the 
 
2 EDWARD JOHNSON. 
 
 great Puritan leaders and their work, we are obliged 
 to smile at the extravagant crudity of his style, upon 
 which he evidently expended much labor. His 
 attempts at verse are peculiarly distressing. But 
 when all is said, he is very interesting, and much is to 
 be pardoned to so sturdy a patriot. 
 
 Of the First Preparation of the Merchant 
 Adventurers in the Massachusetts. 
 
 [from the *s wonder-working providence," lon- 
 don, 1654. chap. ix.] 
 
 . . . At the place of their abode they began to 
 build a Town, which is called Salem, after some 
 little space of time having made trial of the sordid 
 spirits of the neighboring Indians, the most bold 
 among them began to gather to divers places, which 
 they began to take up for their own; those that were 
 sent over servants, having itching desires after novel- 
 ties, found a readier way to make an end of their 
 masters' provisions, than [hey could find means to 
 get more. They that came over their own men had 
 but little left to feed on, and most began to repent 
 when their strong beer and full cups ran as small as 
 water in a large land, but little corn, and the poor 
 Indians so far from relieving them, that they were 
 forced to lengthen out their own food with acorns, 
 and that which added to their present distracted 
 thoughts, the ditch between England and their now 
 place of abode was so wide, that they could not leap 
 over with a lope-staff, yet some delighting their eye 
 with the rarity of things present, and feeding their 
 
WONDER-WORKING PROVIDENCE. 3 
 
 fancies with new discoveries at the Spring's approach, 
 they made shift to rub out the Winter's cold by the 
 fire-side, having fuel enough growing at their doors, 
 turning down many a drop of the bottle, and burn- 
 ing tobacco with all the ease they could, discoursing 
 between one while and another, of the great progress 
 they would make after the Summer's-sun had changed 
 the earths white furr'd gown into a green mantel. 
 
 Of the Charges expended by this Poor People, 
 to enjoy Christ in his Purity of his Ordi- 
 nances. 
 
 [from the same. chap, xiii.] 
 
 And now they enter the ships, should they have 
 cast up what it would have cost to people Nezv 
 England before hand, the most strongest of faith 
 among them would certainly have staggered much, 
 and very hardly have set sail. But behold and 
 wonder at the admirable Acts of Christ, here it is 
 cast up to thy hand, the passage of the persons that 
 peopled New England cost ninety-five thousand 
 pounds, the swine, goats, sheep, neat and horse, 
 cost to transport twelve thousand pounds besides the 
 price they cost, getting food for all persons for the 
 time till they brought the woods to tillage amounted 
 unto forty-five thousand pounds ; nails, glass and 
 other iron-work for their meeting houses, and other 
 dwelling houses, before they could raise any means 
 in the country to purchase them, eighteen thousand 
 pounds. Arms, powder, bullet and match, together 
 
4 EDWARD JOHNSON. 
 
 with their great artillery, twenty-two thousand 
 pounds : the whole sum amounts unto one hundred 
 ninety two thousand pound, beside that which the 
 Adventurers laid out in England, which was a small 
 pittance compared with this, and indeed most of 
 those that cast into this Bank were the chief Adven- 
 turers. Neither let any man think the sum above 
 expended did defray the whole charge of this Army, 
 which amounts to above as much more, only this sum 
 lies still in bank, and the other they have had the 
 income again. This therefore is chiefly presented to 
 satisfy such as think New England men have been 
 bad husbands in managing their estates ; assuredly 
 here it lies in bank, put out to the greatest advantage 
 that ever any hath been for many hundred of years 
 before, and verily although in casting it up some 
 hundred may be miscounted (for the Author would 
 not willingly exceed in any respect) but to be sure 
 Christ stands by and beholds every mite that (in the 
 obedience of faith) is cast into this Treasury : but 
 what do we answering men ? the money is all 
 Christ's, and certainly he will take it well that [his] 
 have so disposed of it to his advantage ; by this 
 means he hath had a great income in England of late, 
 Prayers, Tears and Praise and some Reformation ; 
 Scotland and Ireland have met with much profit of 
 this Bank, Virginia, Bermodas and Barbados have had 
 a taste, and France may suddenly meet with the like. 
 Therefore repent you not, you that have cast in your 
 coin, but tremble all you that with a penurious hand 
 have not only cast in, such as are taking out to hoard 
 it up in your napkins ; remember Ananias and 
 Sapbirah, how darest thou do it in these days, when 
 
THE FOURTH CHURCH OF CHRIST. 5 
 
 the Lord hath need of it? Gentle Reader, make use 
 of this memorable Providence of Christ for his New 
 E?igland Churches, where had this poor people this 
 great sum of money ? the mighty Princes of the 
 Earth never opened their coffers for them, and the 
 generality of these men were mean and poor in 
 the things of this life, but sure it is, the work is 
 done, let God have the glory, who hath now given 
 them food to the full, and some to spare for other 
 Churches. 
 
 [from the same. chap, xiv.] 
 
 . . . The number of ships that transported pas- 
 sengers in this space of time \to 1643} as ls supposed 
 is 298 [query ig8 as stated in XVI^\. Men women 
 and children passing over this wide ocean as near as 
 at present can be gathered is also supposed to be 
 21,200 or thereabout. 
 
 Of the Fourth Church of Christ gathered at 
 Boston, i 63 1 . 
 
 [from the same. chap, xx.] 
 
 After some little space of time the Church of 
 Christ at Charles Town having their Sabbath assem- 
 blies oftenest on the south side of the river, agreed 
 to leave the people on that side to themselves, and 
 to provide another Pastor for Charles Town, which 
 according they did. So that the fourth Church o\ 
 
6 EDWARD JOHNSON. 
 
 Christ issued out of Charles Town, and was seated 
 at Boston being the Center Town and Metropolis 
 of this Wilderness work (but you must not imagine 
 it to be a Metropolitan Church) environed it is with 
 the brinish floods, saving one small isthmus, which 
 gives free access to the neighbor towns ; by land 
 on the south side, on the north west, and north 
 east, two constant ferries are kept for daily traffic 
 thereunto ; the form of this town is like a heart, 
 naturally situated for fortifications, having two hills 
 on the frontice part thereof next the sea, the one 
 well fortified on the superficies thereof, with store of 
 great artillery well mounted, the other hath a very 
 strong battery built of whole timber, and filled with 
 earth, at the descent of the hill in the extreme point 
 thereof; betwixt these two strong arms lies a large 
 cave or bay, on which the chiefest part of this town 
 is built, over-topped with a third hill; all three like 
 over-topping towers keep a constant watch to fore-see 
 the approach of foreign dangers, being furnished with 
 a beacon and loud babbling guns to give notice by 
 the redoubled echo to all their sister-towns. The 
 chief edifice of this citylike town is crowded on the 
 sea-banks and wharfed out with great industry and 
 cost, the buildings beautiful and large, some fairly set 
 forth with brick, tile, stone and slate, and orderly 
 placed with comely streets, whose continual enlarge- 
 ment presages some sumptuous city. . . . But now 
 behold the admirable acts of Christ. At this his 
 peoples, landing the hideous thickets in this place were 
 such that wolves and bears nursed up their young from 
 the eyes of all beholders, in those very places where 
 the streets are full of girls and boys, sporting up and 
 
GREAT CHEERFULNESS. 7 
 
 down, with a continued concourse of people. Good 
 store of shipping is here yearly built and some very 
 fair ones. Both tar and masts the country affords 
 from its own soil, also store of victual both for their 
 own and foreigner's ships who resort hither for that 
 end. The town is the very mart of the land, French 
 Portugal s and Dutch come hither for traffic. 
 
 Of the Great Cheerfulness of Their Soldiers 
 in Christ in and under the Penuries of a 
 
 Wilderness. 
 
 [from the same. chap, xxiv.] 
 
 This year, 1631, John Winthrop, Esq., was 
 chosen Governor, pickt out for the work by the 
 provident hand of the Most High, and enabled with 
 gifts accordingly ; then all the folk of Christ, who 
 have seen his face and been partaker of the same, 
 remember him in this following Meeter. 
 
 Why lea vest thou, John, thy station, in Suffolk, thy own soil ? 
 Christ will have thee a pillar be, for 's people thou must toil. 
 He chang'd thy heart, then take his part 'gainst prelates proud 
 invading 
 His Kingly throne, set up alone, in wilderness there shading 
 His little flocks from Prelates' knocks. Twice ten years rul'd 
 thou hast, 
 With civil sword at Christ's word, and eleven times been trast, 
 By name and note, with people's vote, their Governor to be 5 
 Thy means hast spent, 'twas therefore lent, to raise this work 
 by thee. 
 Well arm'd and strong with sword among Christ's armies marcheth 
 he, 
 Doth valiant praise, and weak one raise, with kind benignity. 
 
8 EDWARD JOHNSON. 
 
 To lead the van, 'gainst Babylon, doth worthy Winthrop call j 
 
 Thy Progeny shall battle try, when Prelacy shall fall. 
 With fluent tongue thy pen doth run, in learned Latin phrase, 
 To Swedes, French, Dutch, thy Neighbors, which thy lady 
 rhetoric praise. 
 Thy bounty feeds Christ's servants' needs, in wilderness of 
 wants j 
 To Indians thou Christ's Gospel now 'mongst heathen people 
 plants. 
 Yet thou poor dust, now dead and must to rottenness be 
 brought, 
 Till Christ restore thee glorious, more than can of dust be 
 thought. 
 
 Those honored persons who were now in place of 
 Government, having the propagation of the Churches 
 of Christ in their eye, labored by all means to make 
 room for inhabitants, knowing well that where the 
 dead carcass is, thither will the eagles resort. But 
 herein they were much opposed by certain persons, 
 whose greedy desire for land much hindered the work 
 for a time, as indeed all such persons do at this very 
 day — and let such take notice how these were cured 
 of this distemper. Some were taken away by death, 
 and then to be sure they had land enough, others 
 fearing poverty and famishment, supposing the present 
 scarcity would never be turned into plenty, removed 
 themselves away, and so never beheld the great good 
 the Lord hath done for his people. 
 
 But the valiant of the Lord waited with patience, 
 and in the miss of beer supplied themselves with 
 water, even the most honored, as well as others, 
 contentedly rejoicing in a cup of cold water, blessing 
 the Lord that had given them the taste of that living 
 
GREAT CHEERFULNESS. 9 
 
 water, and that they had not the water that slacks 
 the thirst of their natural bodies, given them by 
 measure, but might drink to the full ; as also in the 
 absence of bread they feasted themselves- with fish. 
 The women once a day, as the tide gave way, 
 resorted to the mussels, and clambanks, which are a 
 fish as big as horse-mussels, where they daily gath- 
 ered their families' food with much heavenly discourse 
 of the provisions Christ had formerly made for many 
 thousands of his followers in the wilderness. Quoth 
 one, «« My husband hath travelled as far as Plymouth 
 (which is near forty miles), and hath with great toil 
 brought a little corn home with him, and before that 
 is spent the Lord will assuredly provide." Quoth 
 the other, " Our last peck of meal is now in the oven 
 at home a-baking, and many of our godly neighbors 
 have quite spent all, and we owe one loaf of that little 
 we have." Then spake a third, ',« My husband hath 
 ventured himself among the Indians for corn, and can 
 get none, as also our honored Governor hath dis- 
 tributed his so far, that a day or two more will put 
 an end to his store, and all the rest, and yet methinks 
 our children are as cheerful, fat, and lusty with feed- 
 ing upon those mussels, clambanks and other fish, as 
 they were in England with their fill of bread, which 
 makes me cheerful in the Lord's providing for us, 
 being further confirmed by the exhortation of our 
 pastor to trust the Lord with providing for us ; 
 whose is the earth and the fulness thereof." 
 
 And as they were encouraging one another in 
 Christ's careful providing for them, they lift up 
 their eyes and saw two ships coming in, and pres- 
 ently this news came to their ears, that they were 
 
10 EDWARD JOHNSON. 
 
 come from Jacland full of victuals. Now their poor 
 hearts were not so much refreshed in regard of the 
 food they saw they were like to have, as their souls 
 rejoiced fn that Christ would now manifest himself 
 to be the commissary-general of this his Army, and 
 that he should honor them so far as to be poor sutlers 
 for his camp. They soon up with their mussels, and 
 hie them home to stay their hungry stomachs. After 
 this manner did Christ many times graciously provide 
 for this his people, even at the last cast. 
 
 Of the Gracious Goodness of God in Hearing 
 His People's Prayers in Time of Need, and 
 of the Shiploads of Goods the Lord sent 
 them in. 
 
 [from the same. chap. XXVII.] 
 
 Here again the admirable Providence of the Lord 
 is to be noted, that whereas the country is naturally 
 subject to drought, even to the withering of their sum- 
 mer's fruits, the Lord was pleased, during these years 
 of scarcity, to bless that small quantity of land they 
 planted with seasonable showers, and that many times 
 to the great admiration of the Heathen. For thus it 
 befell. The extreme parching heat of the sun (by rea- 
 son of a more constant clearness of the air than usu- 
 ally is in England) began to scorch the herbs and 
 fruits, which was the chiefest means of their liveli- 
 hood. They beholding the Hand of the Lord 
 stretched out against them, like tender-hearted chil- 
 dren, they fell down on their knees, begging mercy 
 
THE GOODNESS OF GOD. II 
 
 of the Lord for their Saviour's sake, urging this as a 
 chief argument, that the malignant adversary would 
 rejoice in their destruction, and blaspheme the pure 
 Ordinances of Christ, trampling down his Kingly 
 Commands with their own inventions; and in utter- 
 ing these words, their eyes dropped down many tears, 
 their affections prevailing so strong, that they could 
 not refrain in the Church Assembly. Here admire 
 and be strong in the Grace of Christ, all you that 
 hopefully belong unto him, for as they poured out 
 water before the Lord, so at that very instant, the 
 Lord showered down water on their gardens and 
 fields, which with great industry they had planted, 
 and now had not the Lord caused it to rain speedily, 
 their hope of food had been lost ; but at this these 
 poor worms were so exceedingly taken, that the Lord 
 should show himself so near unto their prayers, that 
 as the drops from Heaven fell thicker and faster, so 
 the tears from their eyes by reason of the sudden 
 mixture of joy and sorrow. And verily they were 
 exceedingly stirred in their affections, being unable 
 to resolve themselves which mercy was greatest, to 
 have a humble begging heart given them of God, or 
 to have their request so suddenly answered. 
 
 The Indians hearing hereof, and seeing the sweet 
 rain that fell, were much taken with Englishmen's 
 God, but the Lord seeing his poor people's hearts 
 were too narrow to beg, his bounties exceeds toward 
 them at this time, as indeed he ever hitherto hath 
 done for this Wilderness People, not only giving the 
 full of their requests, but beyond all their thoughts, 
 as witness his great work in England of late, in which 
 the prayers of God's people in New England have 
 
12 EDWARD JOHNSON. 
 
 had a great stroke. These people now rising from 
 their knees to receive the rich mercies of Christ, in 
 the refreshed fruits of the earth ; behold the sea also 
 bringing in whole ship-loads of mercies, more being 
 filled with fresh forces for furthering this wonderful 
 work of Christ. And indeed this year came in many 
 precious ones, whom Christ in his grace hath made 
 much use of in these his Churches and Common- 
 wealth, insomuch that these people were even almost 
 over-balanced with the great income of their present 
 possessed mercies. Yet they address themselves to 
 the sea-shore, where they courteously welcome the 
 famous servant of Christ, grave, godly and judicious 
 Hooker, and the honored servant of Christ, Mr. 
 John Haynes, as also the Reverend and much desired 
 Mr. John Cotton, and the rhetorical Mr. Stone, 
 with divers others of the sincere servants of Christ, 
 coming with their young, and with their old, and 
 with their whole substance, to do him service in this 
 desert wilderness. Thus this poor people having 
 now tasted liberally of the salvation of the Lord every 
 way, they deem it high time to take up the cup of 
 thankfulness, and pay their vows to the most high 
 God, by whom they were holpen to this purpose 
 of heart, and accordingly set apart the 1 6th day of 
 October (which they call the eighth month, not 
 out of any peevish humor of singularity, as some are 
 ready to censure them with, but of purpose to pre- 
 vent the heathenish and Popish observation of days, 
 months and years, that they may be forgotten among 
 the people of the Lord). This day was solemnly 
 kept by all the seven Churches, rejoicing in the Lord, 
 and rendering thanks for all their benefits. 
 
LABORIOUS WORK. 
 
 l 3 
 
 Of the Laborious Work Christ's People have 
 in planting this wllderness, set forth in 
 the building the town of concord, being 
 the First Inland Town. 
 
 [from the same. chap. xxxvi.] 
 
 . . . After they had thus found out a place of 
 abode they burrow themselves in the earth for their 
 first shelter, under some hillside, casting the earth 
 aloft upon timber ; they make a smoky fire against 
 the earth at the highest side and thus these poor ser- 
 vants of Christ provide shelter for themselves, their 
 wives and little ones, keeping off the short showers 
 from their lodgings, but the long rains penetrate 
 through to their great disturbance in the night season. 
 Yet in those poor wigwams they sing psalms, pray 
 and praise their God till they can provide them 
 houses, which ordinarily was not wont to be with 
 many till the earth by the Lord's blessing brought 
 forth bread to feed them, their wives and little ones, 
 which with sore labor they attained, every one that 
 can lift a hoe to strike it into the earth standing stoutly 
 to their labors, and tear up the roots and bushes, 
 which the first year bears them a very thin crop, 
 till the sward of the earth be rotten and therefore 
 they have been forced to cut their bread very thin 
 for a long season. But the Lord is pleased to pro- 
 vide for them great store of fish in the spring time, 
 and especially alewives, about the bigness of a her- 
 ring. Many thousands of these they used to put 
 under their Indian corn which they plant in hills 
 
14 EDWARD JOHNSON. 
 
 five foot asunder, and assuredly when the Lord 
 created this corn he had a special eye to provide his 
 people's wants with it, for ordinarily five or six grains 
 doth produce six hundred. . . . 
 
 In this wilderness work men of estates speed no 
 better than others, and some much worse for want 
 of being inured to such hard labor having laid out 
 their estates on cattle at five and twenty pound a 
 cow, when they come to winter them with inland 
 hay and feed upon such wild fodder as was never 
 cut before they could not hold out the winter, but 
 ordinarily the .first or second year after their coming 
 up to a new plantation many of their cattle died, 
 especially if they wanted salt marshes ; and also 
 those who supposed they could feed upon swine's 
 flesh were cut short, the wolves commonly feasting 
 themselves before them. ... As for those who 
 laid out their estates in sheep they speed worse than 
 any at the beginning, although some have sped the 
 best of any now, for until the land be often fed with 
 other cattle sheep cannot live, and therefore they 
 never thrive till these latter days. Horse had then 
 no better success, which made many an honest gentle- 
 man travel afoot for a long time. ... As also the 
 want of English grain, wheat, barley and rye, proved 
 a sore affliction to some stomachs. . . . Instead of 
 apples and pears they had pumpkins and squashes of 
 divers kinds. Their lonesome condition was very 
 grievous to some, which was much agitated by con- 
 tinual fear of the Indians approach, whose cruelties 
 were much spoken of. . . . Thus this poor people 
 populate this howling desert, marching manfully on, 
 the Lord assisting, through the greatest difficulties and 
 
PROMOTION OF LEARNING. 1 5 
 
 sorest labors that ever any with such weak means 
 have done. 
 
 Of the First Promotion of Learning in New 
 England and the Extraordinary Providences 
 that the lord was pleased to send for 
 
 FURTHERING OF THE SaME. 
 
 [FROM THE SAME, BOOK II. CHAP. XIX.] 
 
 Toward the latter end of this summer came over 
 the learned, reverend, and judicious Mr. Henry 
 Dunster, before whose coming the Lord was pleased 
 to provide a patron for erecting a college, as you have 
 formerly heard, his provident hand being now no less 
 powerful in pointing out with his unerring finger a 
 president abundantly fitted, this his servant, and sent 
 him over for to manage the work. And as in all the 
 other passages of this history the Wonder-working 
 Providence of Sion's Saviour hath appeared, so more 
 especially in this work, the fountains of learning being 
 in a great measure stopped in our native country at 
 this time, so that the sweet waters of Shilo's streams 
 must ordinarily pass into the churches through the 
 stinking channel of prelatical pride, beside all the filth 
 that the fountains themselves were daily encumbered 
 withal, insomuch that the Lord turned aside often 
 from them, and refused the breathings of his blessed 
 Spirit among them, which caused Satan (in these 
 latter days of his transformation into an angel of light) 
 to make it a means to persuade people from the use 
 of learning altogether, that so in the next generation 
 they might be destitute of such helps as the Lord hath 
 
l6 EDWARD JOHNSON. 
 
 been pleased hitherto to make use of, as chief means 
 for the conversion of his people and building them up 
 in the holy faith, as also for breaking down the King- 
 dom of Antichrist. And verily had not the Lord 
 been pleased to furnish New England with means for 
 the attainment of learning, the work would have been 
 carried on very heavily, and the hearts of godly 
 parents would have vanished away with heaviness for 
 their poor children, whom they must have left in a 
 desolate wilderness, destitute of the means of grace. 
 
 It being a work (in the apprehension of all whose 
 capacity could reach to the great sums of money the 
 edifice of a mean college would cost) past the reach 
 of a poor pilgrim people, who had expended the 
 greatest part of their estates on a long voyage, travel- 
 ling into foreign countries being unprofitable to any 
 that have undertaken it, although it were but with 
 their necessary attendance, whereas this people were 
 forced to travel with wives, children, and servants ; 
 besides they considered the treble charge of building 
 in this new populated desert, in regard of all kind of 
 workmanship, knowing likewise, that young students 
 could make up a poor progress in learning, by looking 
 on the bare walls of their chambers, and that Dioge- 
 nes would have the better of them by far, in making 
 use of a tun to lodge in ; not being ignorant also, 
 that many people in this age are out of conceit with 
 learning, and that although they were not among a 
 people who counted ignorance the mother of devotion, 
 yet were the greater part of the people wholly 
 devoted to the plough (but to speak uprightly, hunger 
 is sharp, and the head will retain little learning, if the 
 heart be not refreshed in some competent measure 
 
PROMOTION OF LEARNING. 1 7 
 
 with food, although the gross vapors of a glutted 
 stomach are the bane of a bright understanding, and 
 brings barrenness to the brain). But how to have 
 both go on together, as yet they know not. Amidst 
 all these difficulties, it was thought meet learning 
 should plead for itself, and (as many other men of 
 good rank and quality in this barren desert) plot out 
 a way to live. Hereupon all those who had tasted 
 the sweet wine of Wisdom's drawing, and fed on the 
 dainties of knowledge, began to set their wits a work, 
 and verily as the whole progress of this work had a 
 farther dependency than on the present-eyed means, 
 so at this time chiefly the end being firmly fixed on a 
 sure foundation, namely, the glory of God and good of all 
 his elect people the world throughout, in vindicating 
 the truths of Christ and promoting his glorious King- 
 dom, who is now taking the heathen for his inheri- 
 tance and the utmost ends of the earth for his 
 possession, means they know there are, many 
 thousand uneyed of mortal man, which every day's 
 Providence brings forth. 
 
 Upon these resolutions, to work they go, and with 
 thankful acknowledgment readily take up all lawful 
 means as they come to hand. For place they fix 
 their eye upon New-Town, which to tell their pos- 
 terity whence they came, is now named Cambridge. 
 And withal to make the whole world understand 
 that spiritual learning was the thing they chiefly de- 
 sired, to sanctify the other and make the whole lump 
 holy, and that learning being set upon its right object 
 might not contend for error instead of truth, they 
 chose this place, being then under the orthodox and 
 soul-flourishing ministry of Mr. Thomas Shepard, of 
 
1 8 EDWARD JOHNSON. 
 
 whom it may be said, without any wrong to others, 
 the Lord by his Ministry hath saved many a hundred 
 soul. The situation of this College is very pleasant, 
 at the end of a spacious plain, more like a bowling- 
 green than a wilderness, near a fair navigable river, 
 environed with many neighboring towns of note, 
 being so near, that their houses join with her sub- 
 urbs. The building thought by some to be too gor- 
 geous for a wilderness, and yet too mean in others' 
 apprehensions for a college, it is at present enlarging 
 by purchase of the neighbor houses. It hath the 
 conveniences of a fair hall, comfortable studies, and 
 a good library, given by the liberal hand of some 
 magistrates and ministers, with others. The chief 
 gift towards the founding of this college was by Mr. 
 John Harvard, a reverend minister ; the country, 
 being very weak in their public treasury, expended 
 about ^500 towards it, and for the maintenance 
 thereof, gave the yearly revenue of a ferry passage be- 
 tween Boston and Charles-Town, the which amounts 
 to about jQ\o or ^50 per annum. The commis- 
 sioners of the four united colonies also taking into 
 consideration of what common concernment this work 
 would be, not only to the whole plantations in gen- 
 eral, but also to all our English Nation, they endeav- 
 ored to stir up all the people in the several colonies 
 to make a yearly contribution toward it, which by some 
 is observed, but by the most very much neglected. 
 The government hath endeavored to grant them all 
 the privileges fit for a college, and accordingly the 
 Governor and magistrates, together with the President 
 of the College for the time being, have a continual care 
 of ordering all matters for the good of the whole. 
 
PROMOTION OF LEARNING. 1 9 
 
 This college hath brought forth and nurst up very 
 hopeful plants, to the supplying some churches here, 
 as the gracious and godly Mr. Wilson, son to the 
 grave and zealous servant of Christ, Mr. John Wil- 
 son ; this young man is pastor to the Church of 
 Christ at Dorchester ; as also Mr. Buckly, son to 
 the reverend Mr. Buckly, of Concord ; as also a sec- 
 ond son of his, whom our native country hath now at 
 present help in the ministry, and the other is over a 
 people of Christ in one of these Colonies, and if I 
 mistake not, England hath I hope not only this young 
 man of New England nurturing up in learning, but 
 many more, as Mr. Sam. and Nathaniel Mathers, 
 Mr. Wells, Mr. Downing, Mr. Barnard, Mr. Allin, 
 Mr. Brewster, Mr. William Ames, Mr. Jones. An- 
 other of the first-fruits of this college is employed in 
 these western parts in Mevis, one of the Summer 
 Islands ; besides these named, some help hath been 
 had from hence in the study of physic, as also the 
 godly Mr. Sam. Danforth, who hath not only studied 
 divinity, but also astronomy ; he put forth many al- 
 manacs, and is now called to the office of a teaching 
 elder in the Church of Christ at Roxbury, who was 
 one of the fellows of this College. The number of 
 students is much increased of late, so that the present 
 year, 165 1, on the twelfth of the sixth month, ten 
 of them took the degree of Bachelors of Art, among 
 whom the Sea-born son of Mr. John Cotton was 
 one. . . . 
 
JOHN ELIOT. 
 
 John Eliot, who in his own lifetime earned the 
 name of "apostle to the Indians," was born in 
 Hertfordshire, in 1604, and died at Roxbury, Mas- 
 sachusetts, in 1 690. His father was a yeoman land- 
 holder, and the son was educated, like so many of 
 his fellow Puritans, at Cambridge, where he gradu- 
 ated in 1622. For nine years he taught in Thomas 
 Hooker's school at Little Baddow. He had taken 
 orders in the Church of England before he joined 
 the church at Boston in 1631, where he preached 
 in the pastor's absence, and from which, the next 
 year, he accepted a call to Roxbury, where he re- 
 mained till his death. He took an active part in the 
 political life of the colony, criticising the government 
 so freely that his Christian Commonwealth was con- 
 demned and suppressed by order of the General 
 Cou-t, but his fame rests on his labors with the 
 Indians, for whom he published what he thought 
 was a translation of the Bible. He travelled widely 
 on mission journeys, and though the style in which 
 he tells of The Daybreaking if not the Sunrising of 
 the Gospel with the Indians in New England may be 
 quite destitute of charm, the sincerity and sweetness 
 of the man that shine through it show him to have 
 been of a very winning and lovable nature. The lu- 
 minosity of the title is characteristic of the man, and 
 20 
 
DAYBREAKING OF THE GOSPEL. 21 
 
 appears more than once in the titles of his tracts. 
 Eliot used all the sunlight and much of the torch- 
 light of his long life in truly philanthropic service. 
 We can well believe what he says of his Indian con- 
 gregation, — '* None of them slept sermon or derided 
 God's messenger." He has his reward in his unbe- 
 grudged title — the Apostle. 
 
 THE DAYBREAKING IF NOT THE SUN- 
 RISING OF THE GOSPEL WITH THE 
 INDIANS IN NEW ENGLAND [1647]. 
 
 [The First Preaching.] 
 
 Upon October 28, 1646, four of us having sought 
 God went unto the Indians inhabiting within our 
 bounds. . . . They being all there assembled we be- 
 gan in prayer which now was in English, being not 
 so far acquainted with the Indian language as to ex- 
 press our hearts therein before God or them, but we 
 hope it will be done ere long, the Indians desiring it 
 that they also might know how to pray. . . . When 
 prayer was ended it was a gloriously affecting spec- 
 tacle to see a company of perishing, forlorn outcasts, 
 diligently attending to the blessed word of salvation 
 then delivered, professing they understood all that 
 was then taught them in their own tongue ; it much 
 affected us that they should smell some things of the 
 alabaster box broken up in their dark and gloomy 
 habitation of filthiness and unclean spirits. . . . Hav- 
 ing thus in a set speech familiarly opened the prin- 
 cipal matters of salvation to them, the next thing we 
 
22 JOHN ELIOT. 
 
 intended was discourse with them by propounding 
 certain questions to see what they would say to them, 
 that so we might screw by variety of means some- 
 thing or other of God into them, but before we did 
 this we asked them if they understood all that which 
 was already spoken and whether all of them in the 
 wigwam could understand or only some few, and 
 they answered to this question, with multitude of 
 voices, that they all of them did understand all that 
 which was then spoken to them. ... 
 
 Thus after three hours' time thus spent with them, 
 we asked them if they were not weary and they 
 answered, No, but we resolved to leave them with 
 an appetite. The chief of them, seeing us conclude 
 with prayer, desired to know when we would come 
 again, so we appointed the time, and having given 
 the children some apples and the men some tobacco 
 and what else we then had at hand, they desired 
 some more ground to build a town together, which 
 we did much like of, promising to speak for them to 
 the General Court that they might possess all the 
 compass of that hill upon which their wigwams 
 stood, and so we departed with many welcomes from 
 them. 
 
 . . . Methinks now that it is with the Indians, 
 as it was with our New English ground when we 
 first came over, there was scarce any man that would 
 believe that English grain would grow or that the 
 plow could do any good in this woody and rocky 
 soil. ... so we have thought of our Indian people 
 and therefore have been discouraged to put plow to 
 such dry and rocky ground, but God having begun 
 
AID FOR INDIAN SCHOOLS. 23 
 
 thus with some few, it may be they are better soil 
 for the Gospel than we can think. I confess I think 
 no great good will be done till they be more civil- 
 ized, but why may not God begin with some few to 
 awaken others by degrees ? Nor do I expect any 
 great good will be wrought by the English (leaving 
 secrets to God) although the English surely begin 
 and lay the first stones of Christ's kingdom and 
 temple amongst them, because God is wont ordi- 
 narily to convert nations and people by some of their 
 own countrymen who are nearest to them and can 
 best speak and most of all pity their brethren and 
 countrymen. But yet if the least beginnings be 
 made by the conversion of two or three it is worth 
 all our time and travails and cause of much thankful- 
 ness for such seeds, although no great harvest should 
 immediately appear. 
 
 [Aid asked for Indian Schools.] 
 
 I did never think to open my mouth to any to 
 desire those in England to further any good work 
 here, but now I see so many things inviting to speak 
 in this business that it were well if you did lay before 
 those who are prudent and able these considerations. 
 
 1 . That it is pretty heavy and chargeable to edu- 
 cate and train those children that are already offered 
 us, in schooling, clothing, diet and attendance which 
 they must have. 
 
 2. That in all probability many Indians in other 
 places, especially under our jurisdiction will be pro- 
 voked by this example . . . also to send their 
 children to us. . . . 
 
24 JOHN ELIOT. 
 
 3. That if any shall do anything to encourage 
 this work that it may be given to the college for such 
 an end and use that so from the college may arise 
 the yearly revenue for their yearly maintenance. I 
 would not have it placed in any particular man's 
 hands for fear of cozenage or misplacing or careless 
 keeping and improving ; but at the college it 's under 
 many hands and eyes the chief and best of the coun- 
 try who have been and will be exactly careful of the 
 right and comely disposing of such things ; and 
 therefore if anything be given let it be put in such 
 hands as may immediately direct it to the president 
 of the college who you know will soon acquaint the 
 rest with it ; and for this end if any in England have 
 given anything for this end I would have them speak 
 to those who have received it to send it this way, 
 which if it be withheld I think 'tis no less than sac- 
 rilege : but if God moves no hearts to such work, I 
 doubt not then but that more weak means shall have 
 the honor of it in the day of Christ. 
 
 THE CLEAR SUNSHINE OF THE GOSPEL 
 BREAKING FORTH UPON THE IND- 
 IANS [1648]. 
 
 [A Letter to Rev. Thomas Shepard.] 
 
 In my exercise among them (as you know) we 
 attend four things, besides prayer unto God for his 
 presence and blessing upon all we do. 
 
 First, I catechise the children and youth ; wherein 
 some are very ready and expert ; they can readily say 
 
LETTER TO REV. THOMAS SHEPARD. 25 
 
 all the Commandments, so far as I have communicated 
 them, and all other principles about the creation, the 
 fall, the redemption by Christ, etc., wherein also the 
 aged people are pretty expert, by the frequent repeti- 
 tion thereof to the children, and are able to teach it 
 to their children at home, and do so. 
 
 Secondly, I preach unto them out of some texts 
 of Scripture, wherein I study all plainness and brevity, 
 unto which many are very attentive. 
 
 Thirdly, if there be any occasion, we in the next 
 place go to admonition and censure ; unto which they 
 submit themselves reverently, and obediently, and 
 some of them penitently confessing their sins with 
 much plainness, and without shiftings and excuses. 
 I will instance in two or three particulars ; this was 
 one case, a man named Wampoowas, being in a pas- 
 sion upon some light occasion, did beat his wife, 
 which was a very great offence among them now 
 (though in former times it was very usual) and they 
 had made a law against it, and set a fine upon it ; 
 whereupon he was publicly brought forth before the 
 assembly, which was great that day, for our Governor 
 and many other English were then present. The 
 man wholly condemned himself without any excuse : 
 and when he was asked what provocation his wife 
 gave him, he did not in the least measure blame her 
 but himself, and when the quality of the sin was 
 opened, that it was cruelty to his own body, and 
 against God's Commandment, and that passion was 
 a sin, and much aggravated by such effects, yet God 
 was ready to pardon it in Christ, etc., he turned his 
 face to the wall and wept, though with modest en- 
 deavor to hide it ; and such was the modest, penitent, 
 
20 JOHN ELIOT. 
 
 and melting behavior of the man, that it much affected 
 all to see it in a barbarian, and all did forgive him, 
 only this remained, that they executed their law not- 
 withstanding his repentance, and required his fine, to 
 which he willingly submitted, and paid it. 
 
 Another case of admonition was this, Cutshamaquin 
 the Sachem having a son of about fourteen or fifteen 
 years old, he had been drunk, and had behaved him- 
 self disobediently and rebelliously against his father and 
 mother, for which sin they did blame him, but he 
 despised their admonition. And before I knew of it, 
 1 did observe when I catechised him, when he should 
 say the fifth Commandment, he did not freely say, 
 " Honor thy father," but wholly left out " mother," 
 and so he did the lecture day before, but when this 
 sin of his was produced, he was called forth before 
 the Assembly, and he confessed that what was said 
 against him was true, but he fell to accuse his father 
 of sundry evils, as that he would have killed him in 
 his anger, and that he forced him to drink sack, and 
 I know not what else : which behavior we greatly 
 disliked, showed him the evil of it, and Mr. Wilson 
 being present labored much with him, for he under- 
 stood the English, but all in vain, his heart was hard 
 and hopeless for that time. Therefore using due lov- 
 ing persuasions, we did sharply admonish him of his 
 sin, and required him to answer further the next lec- 
 ture day, and so left him ; and so stout he was, that 
 when his father offered to pay his fine of ten shillings 
 for his drunkenness according to their law, he would 
 not accept it at his hand. When the next day was 
 come, and other exercises finished, I called him forth, 
 ind he willingly came, but still in the same mind as 
 
LETTER TO REV. THOMAS SHEPARD- 27 
 
 before. Then we turned to his father, and exhorted 
 him to remove that stumbling-block out of his son's 
 way, by confessing his own sins whereby he had given 
 occasion of hardness of heart to his son ; which thing 
 was not sudden to him, for I had formerly in private 
 prepared him thereunto, and he was very willing to 
 hearken to that counsel, because his conscience told 
 him he was blameworthy ; and accordingly he did, he 
 confessed his main and principal evils of his own ac- 
 cord : and upon this advantage I took occasion to put 
 him upon confession of sundry other vices which I 
 knew he had in former times been guilty of, and all 
 the Indians knew it likewise ; and put it after this 
 manner, Are you now sorry for your drunkenness, 
 filthiness, false dealing, lying, etc., which sins you 
 committed before you knew God? unto all which 
 cases he expressed himself sorrowful, and condemned 
 himself for them : which example of the Sachem was 
 profitable for all the Indians. And when he had thus 
 confessed his sins, we turned again to his son and 
 labored with him, requiring him to confess his sin, 
 and entreat God to forgive him for Christ his sake, and 
 to confess his offence against his father and mother, 
 and entreat them to forgive him, but he still refused ; 
 and now the other Indians spake unto him soberly and 
 affectionately, to put him on, and divers spake one 
 after another, and some several times. Mr. Wilson 
 again did much labor with him, and at last he did 
 humble himself, confessed all, and entreated his father 
 to forgive him, and took him by the hand, at which 
 his father burst forth into great weeping. He did the 
 same also to his mother, who wept also, and so did 
 divers others ; and many English being present, they 
 
28 JOHN ELIOT. 
 
 fell a-weeping, so that the house was filled with weep- 
 ing on every side ; and then we went to prayer, in 
 all which time Cutshamaquin wept, insomuch that 
 when we had done the board he stood upon was all 
 dropped with his tears. 
 
 Another case of admonition was this, a hopeful 
 young man who is my servant, being upon a journey, 
 and drinking sack at their setting forth, he drank too 
 much, and was disguised ; which when I heard I re- 
 proved him, and he humbled himself, with confession 
 of his sin, and tears. And the next lecture day I 
 called him forth before the Assembly, where he did 
 confess his sin with many tears. 
 
 Before I leave this point of admonition, if I thought 
 it would not be too tedious to you, I would mention 
 one particular more, where we saw the power of God 
 awing a wicked wretch by this ordinance of admoni- 
 tion. It was George that wicked Indian, who, as 
 you know, at our first beginnings sought to cast asper- 
 sions upon religion, by laying slanderous accusations 
 against godly men, and who asked that captious ques- 
 tion, "Who made sack?" and this fellow having 
 killed a young cow at your town, and sold it at the 
 college instead of moose, covered it with many lies, 
 insomuch as Mr. Dunster was loath he should be 
 directly charged with it when we called him forth, 
 but that we should rather inquire. But when he was 
 called before the Assembly, and charged with it, he had 
 not power to deny it, but presently confessed, only 
 he added one thing which we think was an excuse ; 
 thus God hath honored this ordinance among them. 
 
 Fourthly, the last exercise, you know, we have 
 among them, is their asking us questions, and very 
 
LETTER TO REV. THOMAS SHEPARD. 29 
 
 many they have asked, which I have forgotten, but 
 some few that come to my present remembrance I 
 will briefly touch. 
 
 One was Wabbakoxet's question, who is reputed 
 an old Powwaw ; it was to this purpose, seeing the 
 English had been twenty-seven years (some of them) 
 in this land, why did we never teach them to know 
 God till now ? '* Had you done it sooner," said he, 
 " we might have known much of God by this time, 
 and much sin might have been prevented, but now 
 some of us are grown old in sin," etc. To whom 
 we answered, that we do repent that we did not long 
 ago, as now we do, yet withal we told them, that 
 they were never willing to hear till now, and that 
 seeing God hath bowed their hearts to be willing to 
 hear, we are desirous to take all the pains we can now 
 to teach them. 
 
 Another question was, that of Cutshamaquin, to 
 this purpose, "Before I knew God," said he, f « I 
 ^thought J was well, but since I have known God and 
 sin, I find my heart full of sin, and more sinful than 
 ever it was before, and this hath been a great trouble 
 to me ; and at this day my heart is but very little 
 better than it was, and I am afraid it will be as bad 
 again as it was before, and therefore I sometimes 
 wish I might die before I be so bad again as I 
 have been. Now my question is, whether is this 
 a sin or not ? " This question could not be learned 
 from the English, nor did it seem a coined feigned 
 thing, but a real matter gathered from the experience 
 of his own heart, and from an inward observation of 
 himself. 
 
 Another question was about their children, Whither 
 
30 JOHN ELIOT. 
 
 their little children go when they die, seeing they 
 have not sinned ? 
 
 Which question gave occasion more fully to teach 
 them original sin, and the damned state of all men. 
 And also, and especially it gave occasion to teach 
 them the Covenant of God, which he hath made 
 with all his people, and with their children, so that 
 when God chooses a man or a woman to be his 
 servant, he chooses all their children to be so also ; 
 which doctrine was exceeding grateful unto them. 
 
 FROM A LATE AND FURTHER MANIFES- 
 TATION OF THE PROGRESS OF THE 
 GOSPEL AMONG THE INDIANS IN 
 NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 Declaring their Constant Love and Zeal to the 
 Truth with a Readiness to give Account of 
 their Faith and Hope as of their Desires in 
 Church Communion to be Partakers of the 
 Ordinances of Christ, being a Narrative of 
 the Examination of the Indians about their 
 Knowledge in Religion by the Elders of the 
 Churches. Related by Mr. John Eliot, pub- 
 lished by the Corporation, established by Act 
 of Parliament for propagating the Gospel 
 there. [London, 1655.] 
 
 [scandal among the converted.] 
 
 There fell out a very great discouragement a little 
 before the time, which might have been a scandal 
 
A SCANDAL IN THE INDIAN ISRAEL. 3 1 
 
 unto them, and I doubt not but Satan intended it so ; 
 but the Lord improved it to stir up faith and prayer, 
 and so turned it another way. Thus it was : Three 
 of the unsound sort of such as are among them that 
 pray unto God, who are hemmed in by relations, and 
 other means, to do that which their hearts love not, 
 and whose vices Satan improveth to scandalize and 
 reproach the better sort withal ; while many, and some 
 good people are too ready to say they are all alike. J 
 say three of them had gotten several quarts of strong 
 water (which sundry out of a greedy desire of a little 
 gain, are too ready to sell unto them, to the offence 
 and grief of the better sort of Indians, and of the 
 godly English too), and with these liquors, did not 
 only make themselves drunk, but got a child of eleven 
 years of age, the son of Toteswamp, whom his father 
 had sent for a little corn and fish to that place near 
 Watertowne, where they were. Unto this child they 
 first gave two spoonfuls of strongwater, which was 
 more than his head could bear ; and another of them 
 put a bottle, or such like vessel to his mouth, and 
 caused him to drink till he was very drunk ; and then 
 one of them domineered, and said, " Now we will 
 see whether your father will punish us for drunkenness 
 (for he is a ruler among them) seeing you are drunk 
 with us for company ; " and in this case lay the child 
 abroad all night. They also fought, and had been 
 several times punished formerly for drunkenness. 
 
 When Toteswamp heard of this, it was a great 
 shame and breaking of heart unto him, and he knew 
 not what to do. The rest of the rulers with him 
 considered of the matter, they found a complication 
 of many sins together. 
 
32 JOHN ELIOT. 
 
 i. The sin of drunkenness, and that after many 
 former punishments for the same. 
 
 2. A wilful making of the child drunk, and expos- 
 ing him to danger also. 
 
 3. A degree of reproaching the rulers. 
 
 4. Fighting. 
 
 Word was brought to me of it, a little before I 
 took horse to go to Natick to keep the Sabbath with 
 them, being about ten days before the appointed meet- 
 ing. The tidings sunk my spirit extremely, I did 
 judge it to be the greatest frown of God that ever I 
 met withal in the work, I could read nothing in it 
 but displeasure, I began to doubt about our intended 
 work : I knew not what to do, the blackness of the 
 sins, and the persons reflected on, made my very 
 heart fail me. For one of the offenders (though least 
 in the offence) was he that hath been my interpreter, 
 whom I have used in translating a good part of the 
 Holy Scriptures ; and in that respect I saw much of 
 Satan's venom, and in God I saw displeasure. For 
 this and some other acts of apostasy at this time, I 
 had thoughts of casting him off from that work, yet 
 now the Lord hath found a way to humble him. But 
 his apostasy at this time was a great trial, and I did 
 lay him by for that day of our examination, I used 
 another in his room. Thus Satan aimed at me in 
 this their miscarrying ; and Toteswamp is a principal 
 man in the work, as you shall have occasion to see 
 anon, God willing. 
 
 By some occasion our ruling elder and I being to- 
 gether, I opened the case unto him, and the Lord 
 guided him to speak some gracious words of encour- 
 agement unto me, by which the Lord did relieve m> 
 
A SCANDAL IN THE INDIAN ISRAEL. 33 
 
 spirit ; and so I committed the matter and issue unto 
 the Lord, to do what pleased him, and in so doing 
 my soul was quiet in the Lord. I went on my jour- 
 ney being the sixth day of the week ; when I came 
 at Natick, the rulers had then a court about it. Soon 
 after I came there, the rulers came to me with a ques- 
 tion about this matter, they related the whole business 
 unto me, with much trouble and grief. 
 
 Then Totes wamp spake to this purpose, "I am 
 greatly grieved about these things, and now God 
 trieth me whether I love Christ or my child best. 
 They say they will try me ; but I say God will try 
 me. Christ saith, He that loveth father, or' mother, 
 or wife, or child, better than me, is not worthy of 
 me. Christ saith, I must correct my child, if I 
 should refuse to do that, I should not love Christ. 
 God bid Abraham kill his son, Abraham loved God, 
 and therefore he would have done it, had not God 
 withheld him. God saith to me, only punish your 
 child, and how can I love God, if I should refuse to 
 do that ? " These things he spake in more words, and 
 much affection, and not with dry eyes. Nor could I 
 refrain from tears to hear him. When it was said, 
 The child was not so guilty of the sin, as those that 
 made him drunk ; he said, that he was guilty of sin, 
 in that he feared not sin, and in that he did not be- 
 lieve his councils that he had often given him, to take 
 heed of evil company ; but he had believed Satan and 
 sinners more than him, therefore he needed to be 
 punished. After other such like discourse, the rulers 
 left me, and went unto their business, which they 
 were about before I came, which they did bring unto 
 this conclusion and judgment, They judged the three 
 
34 JOHN ELIOT. 
 
 men to sit in the stocks a good space of time, and thence 
 to be brought to the whipping-post, and have each of 
 them twenty lashes. The boy to be put in the stocks 
 a little while, and the next day his father was to whip 
 him in the school, before the children there ; all which 
 judgment was executed. When they came to be 
 whipped, the constable fetched them one after another 
 to the tree (which they make use of instead of a post) 
 where they all received their punishments : which 
 done, the rulers spake thus, one of them said, V The 
 punishments for sin are the Commandments of God, 
 and the work of God, and his end was, to do them 
 good, and bring them to repentance." And upon 
 that ground he did in more words exhort them to re- 
 pentance, and amendment of life. When he had done, 
 another spake unto them to this purpose, *f You are 
 taught in catechism, that the wages of sin are all 
 miseries and calamities in this life, and also death and 
 eternal damnation in hell. Now you feel some smart 
 as the fruit of your sin, and this is to bring you to 
 repentance, that so you may escape the rest." And 
 in more words he exhorted them to repentance. 
 When he had done, another spake to this purpose, 
 M Hear all ye people " (turning himself to the people 
 who stood round about, I think not less than two 
 hundred, small and great) ** this is the commandment 
 of the Lord, that thus it should be done unto sinners ; 
 and therefore let all take warning by this, that you com- 
 mit not such sins, lest you incur these punishments." 
 And with more words he exhorted the people. Others 
 of the rulers spake also, but some things spoken I 
 understood not, and some things slipped from me. 
 But these which I have related remained with me. 
 
THE INDIAN GRAMMAR BEGUN. 35 
 
 When I returned to Roxbury, 1 related these things 
 to our elder, to whom I had before related the sin, 
 and my grief: who was much affected to hear it, and 
 magnified God. He said also, That their sin was 
 but a transient act, which had no rule, and would 
 vanish. But these judgments were an ordinance of 
 God, and would remain, and do more good every 
 way, than their sin could do hurt, telling me what 
 cause I had to be thankful for such an issue. Which 
 I therefore relate, because the Lord did speak to my 
 heart, in this exigent, by his words. 
 
 FROM "THE INDIAN GRAMMAR 
 BEGUN, 
 
 Or an Essay to Bring the Indian Language into 
 Rules, for the help of such as desire to 
 
 LEARN THE SaME, FOR THE FURTHERANCE OF THE 
 
 Gospel among Them." [Cambridge, 1666.] 
 
 Musical sounds they also have, and perfect har- 
 mony, but they differ from us in sound. 
 
 There be four several sorts of sounds or tones 
 uttered by mankind. 
 
 1. Articulation in speech. 
 
 2. Laughter. 
 
 3. Lactation and joy : of which kind of sounds 
 our music and song is made. 
 
 4. Ululation, howling, yelling, or mourning : and 
 of that kind of sound is their music and song made. 
 
 In which kind of sound they also hallow and call, 
 when they are most vociferous. 
 
36 JOHN ELIOT. 
 
 And that it is thus, it may be perceived by this, 
 that their language is so full of (00) and 6 nasal. 
 
 They have harmony and tunes which they sing, 
 but the matter is not in metre. 
 
 They are much pleased to have their language 
 and words in metre and rhythm, as it now is in the 
 singing Psalms in some poor measure, enough to be- 
 gin and break the ice withal : These they sing in our 
 musical tone. 
 
 So much for the sounds and characters. 
 
 Now follows the consideration of syllables and the 
 Art of spelling. 
 
 The formation of syllables in their language, doth 
 in nothing differ from the formation of syllables in 
 the English, and other languages. 
 
 When I taught our Indians first to lay out a word 
 into syllables, and then according to the sound of 
 every syllable to make it up with the right letters, 
 viz. if it were a simple sound, then one vocal made 
 the syllable ; if it were such a sound as required some 
 of the consonants to make it up, then the adding of 
 the right consonants either before the vocal, or after 
 it, or both. They quickly apprehended and under- 
 stood this epitome of the art of spelling, and could 
 soon learn to read. 
 
 The men, women, and up-grown youth do thus 
 rationally learn to read : but the children learn by 
 rote and custom, as other children do. 
 
 Such as desire to learn this language, must be 
 attentive to pronounce right, especially to produce 
 that syllable that is first to be produced ; then they 
 must spell by art, and accustom their tongues to pro- 
 nounce their syllables and words ; then learn to read 
 
THE INDIAN GRAMMAR BEGUN. 27 
 
 such books as are printed in their language. Legendo, 
 scribendo, loquendo, are the three means to learn a 
 language. 
 
 So much for the rule of making words. 
 
 Touching the principal parts of speech, this may 
 be said in general, That nouns are the names of 
 things, and verbs are the names of actions ; and 
 therefore their proper attendants are answerable. 
 Adnouns are the qualities of things, and adverbs are 
 the qualities of actions. 
 
 And hence is that wise saying, That a Christian 
 must be adorned with as many Adverbs as Adjec- 
 tives : He must as well do good as be good. When 
 a man's virtuous actions are well adorned with Ad- 
 verbs, every one will conclude that the man is well 
 adorned with virtuous Adjectives. 
 
 I. Of the Pronoun. 
 
 Because of the common and general use of the 
 pronoun to be affixed unto both nouns, verbs, and 
 other parts of speech, and that in the formation of 
 them ; therefore that is the first part of speech to be 
 handled. 
 
 1 shall give no other description of them but this, 
 They are such words as do express all the persons, 
 both singular and plural : as 
 
 ( Neen, /. ) ( 
 
 ing. I Ken, Thou. \ P/u. 1 
 
 ( Noh or mgutrifHe. J (^ 
 
 Neenawun or kenawun, We. 
 
 Kenaau, Ye. 
 
 Nahoh or Nagoh, Tbey. 
 
38 JOHN ELIOT. 
 
 There be also other pronouns of frequent use : 
 
 ^ 2f* ?j> *t> 2JC 5j^ 5j£ 2jC 
 
 2. o/* ^ AW/?. 
 
 A noun is a part of speech which signifieth a 
 thing ; or it is the name of a thing. 
 
 The variation of nouns is not by male and female, 
 as in other learned languages, and in European nations 
 they do. 
 
 Nor are they varied by cases, cadencies, and end- 
 ings : herein they are more like to the Hebrew. 
 
 Yet there seemeth to be one cadency or case of the 
 first declination of the form animate, which endeth in 
 oh, uh, or ah ; viz. when an animate noun followeth 
 a verb transitive whose object that he acteth upon is 
 without himself. For example: Gen. i. 16. the 
 last word is anogqsog> stars. It is an erratum : it 
 should be anogqsob, because it followeth the verb 
 ayim. He made. Though it be an erratum in the 
 press, it is the fitter in some respects for an example. 
 
 In nouns, consider 
 
 U 
 
 Genera, or kinds of nouns. 
 
 The qualities or affections thereof. 
 
 The kinds of nouns are two ; according to which 
 there be two declensions of nouns, for the variation of 
 the number. 
 
 Numbers are two : singular and plural. 
 
 The first kind of nouns is, when the thing signi- 
 fied is a living creature. 
 
 The second kind is, when the thing signified is not 
 a living creature. 
 
THE INDIAN GRAMMAR BEGUN. 39 
 
 Therefore I order them thus : 
 
 There be two forms or declensions of nouns : < f 
 
 ( Inanimate. 
 
 The animate form or declension is, when the 
 thing signified is a living creature : and such nouns 
 do always make their plural in (og) ; as, 
 
 Wosketomp, Man. Wosketompaog (^) is but 
 for Euphony. 
 
 Mittamwossis, A Woman. Mittamwossissog. 
 
 -X- -x- -X- -x- -X- -x- -x- -X- 
 
 The stars they put in this form : 
 
 Anogqs, A Star. Anogqsog. 
 
 Some few exceptions I know. 
 
 -X--X--X--X--X--X--X--X- 
 
 I have now finished what I shall do at present : 
 and in a word or two to satisfy the prudent enquirer 
 how I found out these new ways of Grammar, which 
 no other learned language (so far as I know, useth ; 
 I thus inform him : God first put into my heart a 
 compassion over their poor souls, and a desire to teach 
 them to know Christ, and to bring them into his 
 Kingdom. Then presently I found out (by God's 
 wise providence) a pregnant witted young man, who 
 had been a servant in an English house, who pretty 
 well understood his own language, and hath a clear 
 pronunciation : Him I made my interpreter. By his 
 help I translated the Commandments, the Lord's 
 Prayer, and many texts of Scripture : Also I com- 
 piled both exhortations and prayers by his help. I 
 diligently marked the difference of their grammar from 
 
40 JOHN ELIOT. 
 
 ours : When I found the way of them, I would pur- 
 sue a word, a noun, a verb, through all variations I 
 could think of. And thus I came at it. We must 
 not sit still and look for miracles ; Up, and be doing, 
 and the Lord will be with thee. Prayer and pains, 
 through faith in Christ Jesus will do anything. Nil 
 tarn deficile quod non — I do believe and hope that 
 the Gospel shall be spread to all the ends of the earth, 
 and dark corners of the world by such a way, and 
 such instruments as the Churches shall send forth for 
 that end and purpose. Lord hasten those good days, 
 and pour out that good Spirit upon thy people. 
 Amen. 
 
 FROM "A BRIEF NARRATIVE OF THE 
 PROGRESS OF THE GOSPEL AMONGST 
 THE INDIANS IN NEW ENGLAND, IN 
 THE YEAR 1670." [LONDON, 1671.] 
 
 [A Letter to the Commissioners for the Propa- 
 gation of the Gospel.] 
 
 Natick is our chief town, where most and chief of 
 our rulers, and most of the church dwells ; here 
 most of our chief courts are kept ; and the sacraments 
 in the church are for the most part here administered : 
 It is (by the Divine Providence) seated well near in 
 the center of all our praying Indians, though west- 
 ward the cords of Christ's tents are more enlarged. 
 Here we began civil government in the year 1650. 
 And here usually are kept the General-Trainings, 
 which seven years ago looked so big that we never 
 
SOME INDIAN TOWNS. 4 1 
 
 had one since till this year, and it was at this time 
 but a small appearance. Here we have two teach- 
 ers, John Speen and Anthony ; we have betwixt 
 forty and fifty communicants at the Lord's Table, 
 when they all appear, but now, some are dead, and 
 some decriped with age ; and one under censure, 
 yet making towards a recovery ; one died here the 
 last winter of the stone, a temperate, sober, godly 
 man, the first Indian that ever was known to have 
 that disease ; but now another hath the same disease : 
 Sundry more are proposed, and in way of prepara- 
 tion to join unto the Church. 
 
 Ponkipog, or Pakeunit, is our second town, where 
 the Sachems of the Blood (as they term their chief 
 royal-line) had their residence and rights, which are 
 mostly alienated to the English towns : The last chief 
 man, of that line, was last year slain by the Mauqu- 
 zogs, against whom he rashly (without due attend- 
 ants and assistance, and against counsel) went ; yet 
 all, yea, his enemies say, he died valiantly ; they 
 were more afraid to kill him, than he was to die ; 
 yet being deserted by all (some knowingly say 
 through treason) he stood long, and at last fell alone : 
 Had he had but ten men, yea five in good order with 
 him, he would have driven all his enemies before 
 him. His brother was resident with us in this 
 town, but he is fallen into sin, and from praying to 
 God. Our chief ruler is Ahauton, an old stedfast 
 and trusty friend to the English, and loveth his coun- 
 try. He is more loved than feared ; the reins of his 
 bridle are too long. Wakan is sometimes necessarily 
 called to keep courts here, to add life and zeal in the 
 punishment of sinners. Their late teacher, William, 
 
42 JOHN ELIOT. 
 
 is deceased ; he was a man of eminent parts, all the 
 English acknowledge him, and he was known to 
 many : he was of a ready wit, sound judgment, and 
 affable ;' he is gone unto the Lord ; and William, the 
 son of Ahauton, is called to be teacher in his stead. 
 He is a promising young man, of a single and up- 
 right heart, a good judgment, he prayeth and preach- 
 eth well, he is studious and industrious, and well 
 accounted of among the English. . . . 
 
 Nashope is our next praying town, a place of 
 much affliction ; it was the chief place of residence, 
 where Tahattawans lived, a sachem of the blood, a 
 faithful and zealous christian, a strict yet gentle ruler ; 
 he was a ruler of fifty in our civil order ; and when 
 God took him, a chief man in our Israel was taken 
 away from us. His only son was a while vain, but 
 proved good, expert in the Scripture, was elected to 
 rule in his father's place, but soon died, insomuch 
 that this place is now destitute of a ruler. The 
 teacher of the place is John Thomas, a godly under- 
 standing christian, well esteemed of by the Eng- 
 lish : his father was killed by the Mauquaogs, shot 
 to death as he was in the river doing his eel- 
 weirs. This place lying in the road-way which 
 the Mauquaogs haunted, was much molested by 
 them, and was one year wholly deserted ; but this 
 year the people have taken courage and dwell upon 
 it again. 
 
 In this place after the great earthquake, there was 
 some eruption out of the earth, which left a great 
 hiatus or cleft a great way together, and out of some 
 cavities under great rocks, by a great pond in that 
 place, there was a great while after often heard an 
 
SOME INDIAN TOWNS. 43 
 
 humming noise, as if there were frequent eruptions 
 out of the ground at that place : yet for healthfulness 
 the place is much as other places be. For religion, 
 there be amongst them some godly christians, who 
 are received into the church, and baptized, and 
 others looking that way. 
 
 Panatuket is the upper part of Merimak- Falls ; so 
 called, because of the noise which the waters make. 
 Thither the Penagwog-Indians are come, and have 
 built a great fort ; their sachems refused to pray to 
 God, so signally and sinfully, that Captain Gookin 
 and myself were very sensible of it, and were not 
 without some expectation of some interposure of a 
 Divine Hand, which did eminently come to pass ; 
 for in the forenamed expedition they joined with the 
 northern sachems, and were all of them cut off; 
 even all that had so signally refused to pray unto 
 God were now as signally rejected by God, and cut 
 off. I hear not that it was ever known, that so 
 many sachems and men of note were killed in one 
 imprudent expedition, and that by a few scattered 
 people ; for the Mauquaogs were not imbodied to 
 receive them, nor prepared, and few at home, which 
 did much greaten the overthrow of so many great 
 men, and shews a divine over-ruling hand of God. 
 But now, since the Penaguog-Sachems are cut off, 
 the people (sundry of them) dwelling at Panatuket- 
 Fort do bow the ear to hear, and submit to pray unto 
 God ; to whom Jethro, after he had confest Christ 
 and was baptized, was sent to preach Christ to them. 
 
44 JOHN ELIOT. 
 
 A LETTER FROM ELIOT TO HON. 
 ROBERT BOYLE. 
 
 ROXBURY, April 22, 1 684. 
 
 Right Honorable and Indefatigable Benefactors : 
 This last gift of four hundred pounds for the reim- 
 pression of the Indian Bible doth set a diadem of 
 beauty upon all your former acts of pious charity, 
 and commandeth us to return unto your Honors all 
 thankful acknowledgments, according to our abilities. 
 It pleased the worshipful Mr. Stoughton to give me 
 an intimation, that your honors desired to know the 
 particular present estate of the praying Indians ; and 
 also, when Moses's Pentateuch is printed, to have 
 some copies sent over, to evidence the real and good 
 progress of the work. 
 
 Your Honor's intimation hath the force of a com- 
 mand upon me, and therefore I shall briefly relate 
 the religious walking and ways of the praying Indians. 
 They do diligently observe and keep the Sabbath, in 
 all the places of their public meetings to worship 
 God. The example of the English churches, and 
 the authority of the English laws, which Major 
 Gookin doth declare unto them, together with such 
 mulcts, as are inflicted upon transgressors ; as also 
 and especially, the clear and express command of 
 God, which they and their children learn and re- 
 hearse daily in their catechisms ; these all together 
 have fully possessed and convinced them of their 
 duty, to keep holy the Sabbath day. So that the 
 sanctifying of the Sabbath is a great and eminent part 
 of their religion. And though some of the vain and 
 
LETTER TO HON. ROBERT BOYLE. 45 
 
 carnal sort among them are not so girt to it, as were 
 to be desired, yet the grave and religious sort do 
 constantly worship God, every Sabbath day, both 
 morning and evening, as the English do. . . . 
 
 Moreover, Major Gookin hath dedicated his eldest 
 son, Mr. Daniel Gookin, unto this service of Christ ; 
 he is a pious and learned young man, about thirty- 
 three years old, hath been eight years a fellow of the 
 college ; he hath taught and trained up two classes 
 of our young scholars unto their commencement ; he 
 is a man, whose abilities are above exception, though 
 not above envy. His father, with his inclination, 
 advised him to Sherburne, a small village near Na- 
 tick, whose meeting-house is about three miles, more 
 or less, from Natick meeting-house. Mr. Gookin 
 holdeth a lecture in Natick meeting-house once a 
 month ; which lecture, many English, especially of 
 Sherburne, do frequent. He first preacheth in Eng- 
 lish, to the English audience, and then the same mat- 
 ter is delivered to the Indians, by an interpreter, 
 whom, with much pains, Mr. Gookin hath fore-pre- 
 pared. We apprehend, that this will (by God's 
 blessing) be a means to enable the Indians to under- 
 stand religion preached in the English tongue, and 
 will much further Mr. Gookin in learning the Ind- 
 ian tongue. Likewise Major Gookin holdeth and 
 manageth his courts in the English tongue ; which 
 doth greatly further the Indians in learning law and 
 government in the English tongue ; which is a point 
 of wisdom in civilizing them, that your Honors have 
 manifested your desires, that it might be attended. 
 
 As for the sending any numbers of Moses's Penta- 
 teuch, I beseech your Honors to spare us in that ; 
 
46 JOHN ELIOT. 
 
 because so many as we send, so many Bibles are 
 maimed, and made incomplete, because they want 
 the five books of Moses. We present your Honors 
 with one book, so far as we have gone in the work, 
 aa 1 humbly beseech, that it may be acceptable, un- 
 \'d the whole be finished ; and then the whole im- 
 o ai ion (which is two thousand) is at your Honors 
 mimand. Our slow progress needeth an apology. 
 vVe have been much hindered by the sickness this 
 car. Our workmen have been all sick, and we 
 luve but few hands, one Englishman, and a boy, 
 itid one Indian ; and many interruptions and diver- 
 ions do befall us ; and we could do but little this 
 very hard winter. But I shall give your Honors no 
 further trouble at this time, only requesting the con- 
 tinuance of your prayers and protection. So I 
 remain, 
 
 Your Honors' to serve you in our Lord Jesus, 
 
 John Eliot. 
 
MICHAEL WIGGLESWORTH. 
 
 Michael Wigglesworth, the most popular of 
 early New England poets, was born in England, 
 probably in Yorkshire in 163 1, and died in 1705, at 
 Maiden, Massachusetts, where he had been for nearly 
 fifty years pastor. He was of sturdy Puritan parent- 
 age, was brought by his father to Charlestown when 
 he was but seven years old, and soon taken thence to 
 New Haven. Here he was fitted for Harvard, from 
 which he graduated in the class of 165 1. He taught 
 there as tutor till 1654, preaching occasionally in 
 Charlestown and in Maiden. He was called to the 
 latter place in 1654, but not actually ordained till two 
 years later. Meantime his father had died. The 
 son in his autobiography pays a warm tribute to the 
 father's self-sacrifice and pious trust in devoting him 
 to the ministry. '« God let him live to see how 
 acceptable to himself this service was in giving his 
 only son to God and bringing him up to learning. ,, 
 
 The father's health had been frail, and the son seems 
 to have inherited a feeble constitution. Ill-health de- 
 layed his ordination as we have seen, and it frequently 
 interrupted his ministry. It was during these periods 
 of enforced leisure that he composed his doggerel 
 epitome of Calvinistic theology, The Day of Doom 
 or a Poetical Description of the Great and Last 
 
 47 
 
48 MICHAEL WIGGLESWORTH. 
 
 Judgment. This was first published in 1662, and 
 attained immediately a phenomenal popularity. Eigh- 
 teen hundred copies were sold within a year, and for 
 the next century it held a secure place in Puritan 
 households. As late as 1828 it was stated that many 
 aged persons were still alive who could repeat it, as it 
 had been taught them with their catechism ; and the 
 more widely one reads in the voluminous sermons 
 of that generation, the more fair will its representa- 
 tion of prevailing theology in New England appear. 
 It satisfied for that age a taste for the shudder in 
 literature, a taste not schooled in New England to 
 demand the artistic expression which had been 
 given to allied themes by Dante and by Milton. 
 It is one of the strange ironies of literature, that 
 the fierce denunciations of the reprobate, and the 
 terrible images of damnation with which the poem 
 abounds, should have been penned by a man whom 
 we know to have been in life a frail and genial 
 philanthropist, so cheerful that some of his friends 
 thought he could not be so sick as he averred. Dr. 
 Peabody used to call him " a man of the beatitudes," 
 ministering not alone to the spiritual but to the physi- 
 cal needs of his flock, having studied medicine for that 
 purpose. He found favor even with the gentler sex, 
 for he was at least thrice married, to Mary Reyner, 
 Martha Mudge, and Sybil (Avery) Sparhawk. His 
 descendants played an honorable part in the history of 
 New England. 
 
 Beside the Day of Doom, Wigglesworth wrote 
 God* s Controversy with New England, and a 
 very popular meditation on the W Necessity, End, 
 and Usefulness of Affliction," which he called Meat 
 
THE DAY OF DOOM. ,1,9 
 
 out of the Eater. The following epitaph upon him 
 is attributed to Cotton Mather : — 
 
 M His pen did once Meat from the Eater take 
 And now he's gone beyond the Eater's reach. 
 His body once so thin was next to none 
 From hence he's to unbodied spirits flown. 
 Once his rare skill did all diseases heal 
 And he doth nothing now uneasy feel. 
 He to his paradise is joyful come 
 And waits with joy to see his Day of Doom." 
 
 THE DAY OF DOOM. 
 
 To the Christian Reader. 
 
 Reader, I am a fool 
 
 And have adventured 
 
 To play the fool this once for Christ, 
 
 The more his fame to spread. 
 
 If this my foolishness 
 
 Help thee to be more wise, 
 
 I have attained what I seek, 
 
 And what I only prize. 
 
 Thou wonderest, perhaps, 
 
 That I in print appear, 
 
 Who to the pulpit dwell so nigh. 
 
 Yet come so seldom there. 
 
 The God of Heaven knows 
 
 What grief to me it is, 
 
 To be withheld from serving Christ ; 
 
 No sorrow like to this. 
 
MICHAEL WIGGLESWORTH. 
 
 This is the sorest pain 
 
 That I have felt or feel ; 
 
 Yet have I stood some shocks that might 
 
 Make stronger men to reel. 
 
 I find more true delight 
 
 In serving of the Lord, 
 
 Than all the good things upon Earth, 
 
 Without it, can afford. 
 
 And could my strength endure 
 That work I count so dear, 
 Not all the riches of Peru 
 Should hire me to forbear. 
 But I'm a prisoner, 
 Under a heavy chain ; 
 Almighty God's afflicting hand 
 Doth me by force restrain. 
 
 Yet some (/ know) do judge 
 
 Mine inability 
 
 To come abroad and do Christ's work. 
 
 To be melancholy ; 
 
 And that I'm not so weak 
 
 As I myself conceit ; 
 
 But who in other things have found 
 
 Me so conceited yet ? 
 
 Or who of all my friends 
 That have my trials seen, 
 Can tell the time in seven years 
 When I have dumpish been ? 
 Some think my voice is strong, 
 
THE DAY OF DOOM. J I 
 
 Most times when I do preach ; 
 But ten days after, what I feel 
 And suffer few can reach. 
 
 My prison' d thoughts break forth, 
 When open'd is the door, 
 With greater force and violence, 
 And strain my voice the more. 
 But vainly do they tell 
 That I am growing stronger, 
 Who hear me speak in half an hour, 
 Till I can speak no longer. 
 
 Some for because they see not 
 
 My cheerfulness to fail, 
 
 Nor that I am disconsolate, 
 
 Do think I nothing ail. 
 
 If they had borne my griefs, 
 
 Their courage might have fail'd them, 
 
 And all the town (perhaps) have known 
 
 (Once and again) what aiFd them. 
 
 But why should I complain 
 
 That have so good a God, 
 
 That doth mine heart with comfort fill 
 
 Ev'n whilst I feel his rod ? 
 
 In God I have been strong, 
 
 But wearied and worn out, 
 
 And joy'd in him, when twenty woes 
 
 Assail' d me round about. 
 
 Nor speak I this to boast, 
 But make apology 
 
MICHAEL WIGGLESWORTH. 
 
 For mine own self, and answer those 
 
 That fail in charity. 
 
 I am, alas ! as frail, 
 
 Impatient a creature, 
 
 As most that tread upon the ground, 
 
 And have as bad a nature. 
 
 Let God be magnified, 
 Whose everlasting strength 
 Upholds me under sufferings 
 Of more than ten years* length ; 
 Through whose Almighty pow'r, 
 Although I am surrounded 
 With sorrows more than can be told, 
 Yet am I not confounded. 
 
 For his dear sake have I 
 
 This service undertaken, 
 
 For I am bound to honor him 
 
 Who hath not me forsaken. 
 
 I am a debtor, too, 
 
 Unto the sons of men, 
 
 Whom, wanting other means, I would 
 
 Advantage with my pen. 
 
 I would, but ah ! my strength, 
 When tried, proves so small, 
 That to the ground without effect 
 My wishes often fall. 
 Weak heads, and hands, and states, 
 Great things cannot produce ; 
 And therefore I this little piece 
 Have publish' d for thine use. 
 
THE DAY OF DOOM. 53 
 
 Although the thing be small, 
 
 Yet my good will therein 
 
 Is nothing less than if it had 
 
 A larger volume been. 
 
 Accept it then in love, 
 
 And read it for thy good ; 
 
 There's nothing in't can do thee hurt, 
 
 If rightly understood. 
 
 The God of Heaven grant 
 
 These lines so well to speed, 
 
 That thou the things of thine own peace 
 
 Through them may'st better heed ; 
 
 And may'st be stirred up 
 
 To stand upon thy guard, 
 
 That Death and Judgment may not come 
 
 To find thee unprepar'd. 
 
 Oh, get a part in Christ, 
 
 And make the Judge thy friend ; 
 
 So shalt thou be assured of 
 
 A happy, glorious end. 
 
 Thus prays thy real friend 
 
 And servant for Christ's sake, 
 
 Who, had he strength, would not refuse 
 
 More pains for thee to take. 
 
 
54 MICHAEL WIGGLESWORTH. 
 
 [Dooming the Reprobate Infant.] 
 (clxvi— clxxxi. ) 
 
 Then to the Bar all they drew near Reprobate 
 
 Who died in infancy, fo/S-^ 
 
 And never had or good or bad selves, 
 
 effected pers'nally ; Rev. 20:12, 
 
 But from the womb unto the tomb Compared 
 
 were straightway carried, with Rom. 5, 
 
 / r\ 11 1 * i\ 12, 14, and 
 
 (Or at the least ere they trangress d) o:n, 13 
 who thus began to plead : * zek - lS " 2- 
 
 " If for our own transgressi-on, 
 
 or disobedience, 
 We here did stand at thy left hand, 
 
 just were the Recompense ; 
 But Adam's guilt our souls hath spilt, 
 
 his fault is charg'd upon us ; 
 And that alone hath overthrown 
 
 and utterly undone us. 
 
 "Not we, but he ate of the tree, 
 
 whose fruit was interdicted ; 
 Yet on us all of his sad fall 
 
 the punishment's inflicted. 
 How could we sin that had not been, 
 
 or how is his sin our, 
 Without consent, which to prevent 
 
 we never had the pow'r ? 
 
 ' O great Creator, why was our nature 
 depraved and forlorn ? 
 
THE DAY OF DOOM. 
 
 55 
 
 Why so defil'd, and made so vil'd, 
 whilst we were yet unborn ? 
 
 If it be just, and needs we must 
 transgressors reckon' d be, 
 
 Thy mercy, Lord, to us afford, 
 which sinners hath set free. 
 
 Psal. S i: 5 . 
 
 " Behold we see Adam set free, 
 
 and sav'd from his trespass, 
 Whose sinful fall hath split us all, 
 
 and brought us to this pass. 
 Canst thou deny us once to try, 
 
 Or grace to us to tender, 
 When he finds grace before thy face 
 
 who was the chief offender ? ' ' 
 
 Then answered the Judge most dread : 
 
 " God doth such doom forbid, 
 That men should die eternally 
 
 for what they never did. 
 But what you call old Adam's fall, 
 
 and only his trespass, 
 You call amiss to call it his, 
 
 both his and yours it was. 
 
 Their 
 arguments 
 taken off. 
 Ezek. 18: 20. 
 Rom. 
 5: 12, 19. 
 
 He was design' d of all mankind 
 
 
 to be a public head ; 
 
 
 A common root, whence all should 
 
 1 Cor. 
 
 shoot, 
 
 15:48,49. 
 
 and stood in all their stead. 
 
 
 He stood and fell, did ill or well, 
 
 
 not for himself alone, 
 
 
56 MICHAEL WIGGLESWORTH. 
 
 But for you all, who now his Fall 
 and trespass would disown. 
 
 "If he had stood, then all his brood 
 
 had been established 
 In God's true love never to move, 
 
 nor once awry to tread ; 
 Then all his race my Father's grace 
 
 should have enjoy' d for ever 
 And wicked sprites by subtile sleights 
 
 could them have harmed never. 
 
 ". Would you have griev'd to have receiv'd 
 
 through Adam so much good, 
 As had been your for evermore, 
 
 if he at first had stood ? 
 Would you have said, * We ne'er obey'd 
 
 nor did thy laws regard ; 
 It ill befits, with benefits, 
 
 us, Lord, to so reward ? ' 
 
 " Since then to share in his welfare, 
 
 you could have been content, 
 You may with reason share in his treason, 
 
 and in the punishment, 
 Hence you were born in state forlorn, Rom. 5:12 
 
 with natures so depraved Gen. 5?3. 5 
 
 Death was your due because that you 
 
 had thus yourselves behaved. 
 
 M You think « If we had been as he 
 whom God did so betrust, 
 
THE DAY OF DOOM. 57 
 
 We to our cost would ne'er have lost 
 
 all for a paltry lust.' 
 Had you been made in Adam's stead, Mat. 
 
 you would like things have wrought, * 3:3 °' 3I * 
 And so into the self-same woe 
 
 yourselves and yours have brought. 
 
 *« I may deny you once to try, 
 
 or grace to you to tender, 
 Though he finds grace before my face 
 
 who was the chief offender ; Rom- 
 
 Else should my grace cease to be grace, The free gift. 
 
 for it would not be free, Rom - 5:i5 * 
 
 If to release whom I should please 
 
 I have no liberty. 
 
 " If upon one what's due to none 
 
 I frankly shall bestow, 
 And on the rest shall not think best 
 
 compassion's skirt to throw, 
 Whom injure I ? Will you envy 
 
 and grudge at others' weal ? 
 Or me accuse, who do refuse 
 
 yourselves to help and heal ? 
 
 '« Am I alone of what's my own, 
 
 no master or no lord ? 
 And if I am, how can you claim Mat. 20:15. 
 
 what I to some afford ? 
 Will you demand grace at my hand, and 
 
 challenge what is mine ? 
 Will you teach me whom to set free, 
 
 and thus my grace confine ? 
 
58 
 
 MICHAEL WIGGLESWORTH. 
 
 c< You sinners are, and such a share 
 
 as sinners may expect ; 
 Such you shall have, for I do save 
 
 none but mine own Elect. 
 Yet to compare your sin with their 
 
 who liv'd a longer time, 
 I do confess yours is much less 
 
 though every sin's a crime. 
 
 Psal. 58:8. 
 Rom. 6:23. 
 Gal. 3:10. 
 Rom. 8:29, 
 30 and 11:7. 
 Rev. 21:27. 
 Luke 
 12:14, 8. 
 Mat. 11:22. 
 
 A crime it is, therefore, in bliss 
 you may not hope to dwell ; 
 
 But unto you I shall allow 
 the easiest room in Hell." 
 
 The wicked 
 all 
 
 convinced 
 and put to 
 silence. 
 Rom. 3:19. 
 Mat. 22:12. 
 
 [Dissolving Domestic Ties.] 
 (cxcv.— cc.) 
 
 Unto the Saints with sad complaints 
 
 should they themselves apply ? 
 They're not dejected nor aught affected 
 
 with all their misery. 
 Friends stand aloof and make no proof 
 
 what prayers or tears can do ; 
 Your Godly friends are now more friends 
 
 to Christ than unto you. 
 
 Rev. 21:4. 
 Psal. 58:10. 
 
 Where tender love men's hearts did move 
 
 unto a sympathy, 
 And bearing part of others' smart 
 
 in their anxiety, 
 
 1 Cor. 6:2. 
 
THE DAY OF DOOM. 59 
 
 Now such compassion is out of fashion, 
 
 and wholly laid aside ; 
 No friends so near, but Saints to hear 
 
 their Sentence can abide. 
 
 One natural brother beholds another 
 
 in his astonied fit, 
 Yet sorrows not thereat a jot, Compare 
 
 nor pities him a whit. w [°h' rs 
 
 The godly wife conceives no grief j J? hn 3 : 
 
 nor can she shed a tear 5 
 
 For the sad state of her dear mate 
 
 when she his doom doth hear. 
 
 or. 
 
 He that was erst a husband pierc'd 
 
 with sense of wife's distress, 
 Whose tender heart did bear a part 
 
 of all her grievances. 
 Shall mourn no more as heretofore, 
 
 because of her ill plight, 
 Although he see her now to be 
 
 a damn'd forsaken wight. 
 
 The tender mother will own no other 
 
 of all her num'rous brood 
 But such as stand at Christ's right hand, 
 
 acquitted through his Blood. Luke 16: 25. 
 
 The pious father had now much rather 
 
 his graceless son should lie 
 In hell with devils, for all his evils, 
 
 burning eternally. 
 
60 MICHAEL WIGGLESWORTH. 
 
 Than God most High should injury 
 
 by sparing him sustain ; 
 And doth rejoice to hear Christ's voice, Psal. 58: ia 
 
 adjudging him to pain. 
 
JOHN JOSSELYN. 
 
 John Josselyn, an English traveller in New England 
 and a writer of almost incredible credulity, was the son 
 of Sir Thomas Josselyn of Kent, where he was born 
 early in the seventeenth century. The time of his death 
 is uncertain. He visited New England first in July, 
 1638, when he " presented his respects to Mr. Win- 
 throp the Governor and to Mr. Cotton the preacher of 
 Boston Church, to whom he delivered from Mr. Fran- 
 cis Quarles, the poet, the translation of several psalms 
 in English metre." He sojourned fifteen months in 
 the colony, and revisited it twenty-four years later, 
 remaining eight years. On his return in 1671, he 
 published New England's Rarities, discovered in 
 Birds, Beasts, Fishes, Serpents, and Plants of that 
 Country, with a picture of Boston in 1663. This 
 volume was reprinted with notes by Edward Tucker- 
 man in 1865. Josselyn wrote also An Account of 
 Two Voyages to New England, and a compilation 
 of The Most Remarkable Passages from the First 
 Discovery of the Continent of America to l6yj, re- 
 printed with New England's Rarities ( 1 865). He is 
 frank in criticism, somewhat affected in style. His 
 interest is more in the curiosities of nature than in 
 questions of religious or social polity. His eredulous- 
 ness rises almost to genius, as when he tells us that 
 the Indians disputed "in perfect hexameter verse." 
 61 
 
62 JOHN JOSSELYN. 
 
 The hornets' nest mistaken for a rare fruit and gathered 
 with disastrous results, as may be seen in our extract, 
 has been made familiar by the verses of Longfellow. 
 
 JOSSELYN'S FIRST EXPERIENCES. 
 
 [From «< An Account of Two Voyages to New 
 England." 1675.] 
 
 1637. May, which fell out to be extreme hot 
 and foggy. About the middle of May I killed within 
 a stone's throw of our house above four score snakes, 
 some of them as big as the small of my leg, black of 
 color, and three yards long, with a sharp horn on the 
 tip of their tail two inches in length. 
 
 June, the sixth and twentieth day, very stormy, 
 lightning and thunder. I heard now two of the 
 greatest and fearfullest thunder claps that ever were 
 heard, I am confident. 
 
 At this time we had some neighboring gentlemen 
 in our house, who came to welcome me into the 
 country ; where amongst variety of discourse they 
 told me of a young lion (not long before) killed at 
 Piscataway by an Indian ; of a sea-serpent or snake, 
 that lay coiled up like a cable upon a rock at Cape 
 Ann : a boat passing by with English aboard, and 
 two Indians, they would have shot the serpent, but 
 the Indians dissuaded them, saying, that if he were 
 not killed outright, they would be all in danger of 
 their lives. 
 
 One Mr. Mittin related of a triton or merman 
 which he saw in Casco Bay. This gentleman was a 
 
JOSSELYN'S FIRST EXPERIENCES. 63 
 
 great fowler, and used to go out with a small boat or 
 canoe, and fetching a compass about a small island 
 (there being many small islands in the bay), for the 
 advantage of a shot, was encountered with a triton, 
 who laying his hands upon the side of the canoe, had 
 one of them chopt off with a hatchet by Mr. Mittin, 
 which was in all respects like the hand of a man. 
 The triton presently sunk, dyeing the water with his 
 purple blood, and was no more seen. The next 
 story was told by Mr. Foxwell, now living in the 
 province of Maine, who having been to the eastward 
 in a shallop, as far as Cape Anna-waggon, in his 
 return was overtaken by the night, and fearing to 
 land upon the barbarous shore, he put off a little 
 further to sea. About midnight they were wakened 
 with a loud voice from the shore, calling upon 
 " Foxwell, Foxwell ! come ashore !" two or three 
 times. Upon the sands they saw a great fire, and 
 men and women hand in hand dancing round about 
 it in a ring. After an hour or two they vanished, 
 and as soon as the day appeared, Foxwell puts into a 
 small cove, it being about three quarters flood, and 
 traces along the shore, where he found the footing of 
 men, women and children shod with shoes ; and an 
 infinite number of brands ends thrown up by the 
 water, but neither Indian nor English could he meet 
 with on the shore, nor in the woods. These with 
 many other stories they told me, the credit whereof 
 I will neither impeach nor enforce, but shall satisfy 
 myself, and I hope the reader hereof, with the saying 
 of a wise, learned and honorable knight, that "there 
 are many stranger things in the world, than are to be 
 seen between London and Stanes." . . . 
 
64 JOHN JOSSELYN. 
 
 . . . In the afternoon [Oct. 2] I walked into 
 the woods on the back side of the house, and happen- 
 ing into a fine broad walk (which was a sledge-way) 
 I wandered till I chanced to spy a fruit as I thought 
 like a pine-apple plated with scales. It was as big as 
 the crown o{ a woman's hat. I made bold to step 
 unto it, with an intent to have gathered it. No 
 sooner had I touched it, but hundreds of wasps 
 were about me. At last I cleared myself from 
 them, being stung only by one upon the upper lip. 
 Glad I was that I escaped so well ; but by that 
 time I was come into the house my lip was swelled 
 so extremely, that they hardly knew me but by my 
 garments. 
 
 ITEMS FROM ' HIS SECOND ACCOUNT. 
 
 ... So fared it with me, that having escaped 
 the dangers of one voyage, must needs put on a reso- 
 lution for a second, wherein I plowed many a churlish 
 billow with little or no advantage, but rather to my 
 loss and detriment. In the setting down whereof I 
 purpose not to insist on a methodical way, but accord- 
 ing to my quality, in a plain and brief relation as I 
 have done already ; for I perceive, if I used all the art 
 that possibly I could, it would be difficult to please 
 all, for all men's eyes, ears, faith, judgment, are not 
 of a size. There be a sort of stagnant stinking spirits, 
 who, like flies, lie sucking at the botches of carnal 
 pleasures, and never travelled so much sea as is between 
 Hethferry and Lyon-Key ; yet notwithstanding, (sit- 
 ting in the chair of the scornful over their whifts and 
 
HIS SECOND ACCOUNT. 65 
 
 drafts of intoxication) will desperately censure the 
 relations of the greatest travellers. 
 
 It was a good proviso of a learned man, never to 
 report wonders, for in so doing, of the greatest he 
 will be sure not to be believed, but laughed at ; which 
 certainly bewrays their ignorance and want of dis- 
 cretion. Of fools and madmen, then, I shall take no 
 care. I will not invite these in the least to honor 
 me with a glance from their supercilious eyes ; but 
 rather advise them to keep their inspection for their 
 fine-tongued romances and plays. This homely piece, 
 I protest ingenuously, is prepared for such only who 
 well know how to make use of their charitable con- 
 structions towards works of this nature, to whom I 
 submit myself in all my faculties. . . . 
 
 There is an admirable rare creature in shape like a 
 buck, with horns, of a gummy substance, which I 
 have often found in the fall of the leaf upon the 
 ground amongst the withered leaves ; a living creature 
 I cannot call it, having only the sign of a mouth and 
 eyes. Seldom or never shall you meet with any of 
 them whole, but the head and horns, or the hinder 
 parts, broken off from the rest. The Indians call 
 them tree bucks, and have a superstitious saying (for 
 I believe they never see any of them living) that if 
 they can see a tree buck walking upon the branches 
 of an oak when they go out in a morning to hunt, 
 they shall have good luck that day. What they are 
 good for I know not, but certainly there is some 
 more than ordinary virtue in them. It is true that 
 nothing in nature is superfluous, and we have the 
 Scripture to back it, that God created nothing in 
 vain. The like creatures they have at the Barbadoes 
 
66 JOHN JOSSELYN. 
 
 which they call Negroes' heads, found in the sands, 
 about two inches long, with forehead, eyes, nose, 
 mouth, chin, and part of the neck, they are always 
 found loose in the sands without any root, it is as 
 black as jet, but whence it comes they know not. I 
 have read likewise, that in the Canaries or Fortunate 
 Islands, there is found a certain creature, which boys 
 bring home from the mountains as oft as they would, 
 and named them Tudesquels or little Germans : for 
 they were dried dead carcasses, almost three-footed, 
 which any boy did easily carry in one of the palms 
 of his hand, and they were of an human shape ; but 
 the whole dead carcass was clearly like unto parch- 
 ment, and their bones were flexible, as it were 
 gristles ; against the sun, also, their bowels and intes- 
 tines were seen. '< Surely," saith my author, "the 
 destroyed race of the Pigmies was there." 
 
 There is also many times found upon the leaves of 
 the oak a creature like a frog, being as thin as a leaf, 
 and transparent, as yellow as gold, with little fiery 
 red eyes, the English call them tree-frogs or tree- 
 toads. . . . 
 
 The toad is of two sorts, one that is speckled with 
 white, and another of a dark earthy color ; there is 
 of them that will climb up into trees and sit croak- 
 ing there ; but whether it be of a third sort, or 
 one of the other, or both, I am not able to affirm ; 
 but this I can testify that there be toads of the dark 
 colored kind that are as big as a great loaf. Which 
 report will not swell into the belief of my sceptic 
 sirs ; nor that there is a hell, being like Solomon's 
 fool, Prov. xxvi. 22. 
 
 The country is strangely incommodated with flies, 
 
DESCRIPTION OF AN INDIAN SQUAW. 67 
 
 which the English call Musketaes, they are like our 
 gnats, they will sting so fiercely in summer as to 
 make the faces of the English swelled and scabby, as 
 of the small pox for the first year. Likewise there 
 is a small black fly no bigger than a flea, so numerous 
 up in the country, that a man cannot draw his breath, 
 but that he will suck of them in ; they continue about 
 thirty days say some but I say three months, and are 
 not only a pesterment but a plague to the country. 
 
 FROM NEW ENGLAND'S RARITIES DIS- 
 COVERED. 1672. 
 
 A Perfect Description of an Indian Squaw in All 
 her Bravery ; with a Poem not improperly 
 conferred upon her. 
 
 Now, gentle Reader, having trespassed upon your 
 patience a long while in the perusing of these rude 
 observations, I shall, to make you amends, present 
 you by way of divertisement or recreation, with a 
 copy of verses made some time since upon the picture 
 of a young and handsome gypsy, not improperly 
 transferred upon the Indian Squaw, or female Indian, 
 tricked up in all her bravery. 
 
 . . . The Men are somewhat horse-faced, and 
 generally faucious, i.e. without beards ; but the 
 Women many of them have very good features ; 
 seldom without a "Come to me," or Cos Amor is , 
 in their countenance. All of them black-eyed, hav- 
 ing even, short teeth, and very white ; their hair 
 
68 JOHN JOSSELYN. 
 
 olack, thick, and long ; broad-breasted, handsome, 
 straight bodies, and slender, considering their constant 
 loose habit ; their limbs cleanly, straight, and ol a 
 convenient stature, generally as plump as partridges, 
 and having here and there one of a modest deportment. 
 Their garments are a pair of sleeves of deer, or 
 moose skin drest, and drawn with lines of several 
 color into Asiatic works, with buskins of the same, 
 a shiyf" mantle of trading cloth, either blue or red, 
 fastened with a knot under the chin and girt about 
 the middle with a zone, wrought with white and 
 blue beads into pretty works. Of these beads they 
 have bracelets for their neck and arms, and links to 
 hang in their ears, and a fair table curiously made up 
 with beads likewise, to wear before their breast. 
 Their hair they comb backward, and tie it up short 
 with a border about two handfuls broad, wrought in 
 works as the other with their beads. But enough of 
 this. 
 
 The Poem. 
 
 Whether White or Black be best 
 Call your senses to the quest ; 
 And your touch shall quickly tell 
 The Black in softness doth excel 
 And in smoothness ; but the ear, 
 What, can that a color hear ? 
 No, but 't is your Black one's wit 
 That doth catch and captive it. 
 And if Slut and Fair be one, 
 Sweet and Fair, there can be none ; 
 Nor can aught so please the taste 
 As what's brown and lovely drest. 
 
NEW ENGLAND'S LAWS. 69 
 
 And who '11 say that that is best 
 
 To please one's sense, displease the rest? 
 
 Maugre then all that can be said 
 
 In flattery of White and Red ; 
 
 Those flatterers themselves must say 
 
 That darkness was before the day ; 
 
 And such perfection here appears, 
 
 It neither wind nor sunshine fears. 
 
 NEW ENGLAND'S LAWS AND WAYS, AN 
 UNSYMPATHETIC VIEW. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 . . . Every Town sends two burgesses to their 
 great and solemn general court. 
 
 For being drunk, they either whip or impose a 
 fine of five shillings ; so for swearing and cursing, or 
 boring through the tongue with a hot iron. 
 
 For kissing a woman in the street, though in way 
 of civil salute, whipping or a fine. . . . 
 
 Scolds they gag and set them at their doors for 
 certain hours, for all comers and goers by to gaze at. 
 
 Stealing is punished with restoring fourfold, if 
 able ; if not, they are sold for some years, and so are 
 poor debtors. 
 
 If you desire a further inspection to their laws, for 
 I must refer you to them being in print, too many to 
 be inserted into this relation. 
 
 The governments of their churches are Independent 
 and Presbyterial, every church (for so they call their 
 
70 JOHN JOSSELYN. 
 
 particular congregations) have one pastor, one teacher, 
 ruling elders and deacons. 
 
 They that are members of their churches have the 
 sacraments administred to them, the rest that are out 
 of the pale as they phrase it, are denied it. Many 
 hundred souls there be amongst them grown up to 
 men and women's estate that were never christened. 
 
 They judge every man and woman to pay five 
 shillings per day, who comes not to their assemblies, 
 and impose fines of forty shillings and fifty shillings 
 on such as meet together to worship God. 
 
 Quakers they whip, banish, and hang if they re- 
 turn again. 
 
 Anabaptists they imprison, fine and weary out. 
 
 The government both civil and ecclesiastical is in 
 the hands of the thorough-pac'd Independents and 
 rigid Presbyterians. 
 
 The gross Goddons, or great masters, as also some 
 of their merchants are damnable rich ; generally all 
 of their judgment, inexplicably covetous and proud, 
 they receive your gifts but as an homage or tribute 
 due to their transcendency, which is a fault their 
 clergy are also guilty of, whose living is upon the 
 bounty of their hearers. On Sundays in the after- 
 noon when sermon is ended the people in the gal- 
 leries come down and march two a-breast up one 
 ai?le and down the other, until they come before the 
 desk, for pulpit they have none : before the desk 
 is a long pew where the Elders and Deacons sit, 
 one of them with a money box in his hand, into 
 which the people as they pass put their offering, 
 some a shilling, some two shillings, half a crown, five 
 shillings, according to their ability and good will, 
 
NEW ENGLAND'S LAWS. 7 1 
 
 after this they conclude with a Psalm ; but this by 
 the way. 
 
 The chiefest objects of discipline, religion, and 
 morality they want, some are of a linsey-woolsey 
 disposition, of several professions in religion, all like 
 ^Ethiopians white in the Teeth, only full of ludifica- 
 tion and injurious dealing, and cruelty the extremest 
 of all vices. The chiefest cause of Noah's flood, 
 Prov. 27. 26. Agni erant ad vestitum tuum, is a 
 frequent text among them, no trading for a stranger 
 with them, but with a Grecian faith, which is not to 
 part with your ware without ready money, for they 
 are generally in their payments recusant and slow, 
 great syndies, or censors, or controllers of other men's 
 manners, and savagely factious amongst themselves. 
 
 There are many strange women too, (in Solomon's 
 sense), more the pity ; when a woman hath lost her 
 chastity she hath no more to lose. 
 
 But mistake me not to general speeches, none 
 but the guilty take exceptions, there are many sin- 
 cere and religious people amongst them, descried 
 by their charity and humility (the true charac- 
 ters of Christianity) by their Zenodochy or hospi- 
 tality, by their hearty submission to their sovereign 
 the King of England, by their diligent and honest 
 labor in their callings, amongst these we may account 
 the royalists, who are looked upon with an evil eye, 
 and tongue, bolted or punished if they chance to lash 
 out ; the tame Indian (for so they call those that are 
 born in the country) are pretty honest too, and may 
 in good time be known for honest King's men. 
 
 They have store of children, and are well accomo- 
 dated with servants ; many hands make light work, 
 
72 JOHN JOSSELYN. 
 
 many hands make a full fraught, but many mouths 
 eat up all, as some old planters have experimented ; 
 of these some are English, others Negroes : of the 
 English there are can eat till they sweat, and work 
 till they freeze ; and of the females that are like Mrs. 
 Winter's paddocks, very tender flngerd in cold 
 weather. 
 
 There are none that beg in the country, but there 
 be witches too many, bottled-bellied witches amongst 
 the Quakers, and others that produce many strange 
 apparitions if you will believe report, of a shallop at 
 sea manned with women ; of a ship and a great red 
 horse standing by the main-mast, the ship being in a 
 small cove to the east-ward vanished of a sudden. 
 Of a witch that appeared aboard of a ship twenty 
 leagues to sea to a mariner who took up the carpen- 
 ter's broad axe and cleft her head with it, the witch 
 dying of the wound at home, with such like bugbears 
 and Terriculimentaes. 
 
 THE MEN OF MAINE. 
 
 [From "An Account of Two Voyages to New 
 England." 1675.] 
 
 The people in the province of Maine may be 
 divided into magistrates, husbandmen or planters, and 
 fishermen ; of the magistrates some be royalists, the 
 rest perverse spirits, the like are the planters and 
 fishers, of which some be planters and fishers both, 
 others mere fishers. 
 
 Handicraftsmen there are but few, the tumelor or 
 
THE MEN OF MAINE. 73 
 
 cooper, smiths and carpenters are best welcome 
 amongst them, shopkeepers there are none, being 
 supplied by the Massachusetts merchant with all 
 things they stand in need of, keeping here and there 
 fair magazines stored with English goods, but they set 
 excessive prices on them, if they do not gain cent per 
 cent, they cry out that they are losers. . . . 
 
 The planters are or should be restless painstakers, 
 providing for their cattle, planting and sowing of corn, 
 fencing their grounds, cutting and bringing home fuel, 
 cleaving of claw-board and pipe-staves, fishing for 
 fresh water fish and fowling takes up most of their 
 time, if not all ; the diligent hand maketh rich, but 
 if they be of a dronish disposition as some are, they 
 become wretchedly poor and miserable, scarce able to 
 free themselves and family from importunate famine, 
 especially in the winter for want of bread. 
 
 They have a custom of taking tobacco, sleeping at 
 noon, sitting long at meals, sometimes four times in a 
 day, and now and then drinking a dram of the bottle 
 extraordinarily : the smoking of tobacco, if moderately 
 used refresheth the weary much, and so doth sleep. 
 
 A traveller five hours doth crave 
 To sleep, a student seven will have, 
 And nine sleeps every idle knave. 
 
 The physician allows but three draughts at a meal, 
 the first for need, the second for pleasure, and the 
 third for sleep ; but little observed by them, unless 
 they have no other liquor to drink but water. In 
 some places where the springs are frozen up, or at 
 least the way to their springs made unpassable by rea- 
 son of the snow and the like, they dress their meat in 
 aqua c& testis, i.e., melted snow. At other times it 
 
74 JOHN JOSSELYN. 
 
 is very well cooked, and they feed upon (generally) 
 as good flesh, beef, pork, mutton, fowl, and fish as 
 any is in the whole world besides. 
 
 Their servants, which are for the most part Eng- 
 lish, when they are out of their time, will not work 
 under half a crown a day, although it be for to make 
 hay, and for less I do not see how they can, by 
 reason of the dearness of clothing. If they hire 
 them by the year, they pay them fourteen or fifteen 
 pound, yea, twenty pound at the year's end in corn, 
 cattle and fish : some of these prove excellent fowlers, 
 bringing in as many as will maintain their master's 
 house ; besides the profit that accrues by their feathers. 
 They use (when it is to be had) a great round shot, 
 called Barstable shot (which is best for fowl, made 
 of a lead blacker than our common lead ; to six 
 pound of shot they allow one pound of powder ; 
 cannon powder is esteemed best. 
 
 The fishermen take yearly upon the coasts many 
 hundred quintals of cod, hake, haddock, pollack, etc., 
 which they split, salt and dry at their stages, making 
 three voyages in a year. When they share their fish 
 (which is at the end of every voyage) they separate 
 the best from the worst, the first they call merchant- 
 able fish, being sound, full grown fish and well made 
 up, which is known when it is clear like a Lanthorn 
 horn and without spots ; the second sort they call 
 refuse fish — that is, such as is salt burnt, spotted, 
 rotten, and carelessly ordered : these they put off to 
 the Massachusetts merchants ; the merchantable for 
 thirty and two and thirty reals a quintal (a quintal is 
 an hundred and twelve pound weight); the refuse for 
 nine shillings and ten shillings a quintal. The merchant 
 
THE MEN OF MAINE. 75 
 
 sends the merchantable fish to Lisbon, Bilbao, Bor- 
 deaux, Marseilles, Toulon, Rochelle, Rouen, and 
 other cities of France, to the Canaries with claw- 
 board and pipe-staves which is there and at the Caribs 
 a prime commodity : the refuse fish they put off at 
 the Carib Islands, Barbadoes, Jamaica, etc., who 
 feed their negroes with it. 
 
 To every shallop belong four fishermen, a master 
 or steersman, a midshipman, and a foremastman, and 
 a shoreman who washes it out of the salt, and dries it 
 upon hurdles pitched upon stakes breast high and 
 tends their cookery ; these often get in one voyage 
 eight or nine pound a man for their shares, but it 
 doth some of them little good, for the merchant to 
 increase his gains by putting off his commodity in the 
 midst of their voyages, and at the end thereof comes 
 in with a walking tavern, a bark laden with the legiti- 
 mate blood of the rich grape, which they bring from 
 Fayal, Madeira, Canaries, with brandy, rum, the 
 Barbadoes strong water, and tobacco. Coming ashore 
 he gives them a taster or two, which so charms them, 
 that for no persuasions that their employers can use 
 will they go out to sea, although fair and seasonable 
 weather, for two or three days — nay, sometimes a 
 whole week — till they are wearied with drinking, 
 taking ashore two or three hogsheads of wine and 
 rum to drink off when the merchant is gone. If a 
 man of quality chance to come where they are rois- 
 tering and gulling in wine with a dear felicity, he 
 must be sociable and rollypooly with them, taking off 
 their liberal cups as freely, or else be gone, which is 
 best for him, for when wine in their guts is at full 
 tide they quarrel, fight and do one another mischief, 
 
76 JOHN JOSSELYN. 
 
 which is the conclusion of their drunken compotations. 
 When the day of payment comes, they may justly 
 complain of their costly sin of drunkenness, for their 
 shares will do no more than pay the reckoning ; if 
 they save a quintal or two to buy shoes and stockings, 
 shirts and waistcoats with, 'tis well, otherwise they must 
 enter into the merchant's books for such things as they 
 stand in need of, becoming thereby the merchant's 
 slaves, and when it riseth to a big sum are constrained 
 to mortgage their plantation, if they have any ; the 
 merchant when the time is expired is sure to seize 
 upon their plantation and stock of cattle, turning them 
 out of house and home, poor creatures, to look out 
 for a new habitation in some remote place, where 
 they begin the world again. The lavish planters have 
 the same fate, partaking with them in the like bad 
 husbandry ; of these the merchant buys beef, pork, 
 pease, wheat and Indian-corn, and sells it again 
 many times to the fishermen. Of the same nature 
 are the people in the Duke's province, who not long 
 before I left the country petitioned the governor and 
 magistrates in the Massachusetts to take them into 
 their government. Birds of a feather will rally 
 together. . , . 
 
 Josselyn's Conclusion. 
 
 Now by the merciful providence of the Almighty, 
 having performed two voyages to the northeast parts 
 of the western world, I am safely arrived in my native 
 country, having in part made good the French proverb 
 — travel where thou canst, but die where thou 
 oughtest, that is, in thine own country. 
 
DANIEL GOOKIN. 
 
 Daniel Gookin was born in Kent, England, about 
 1612, and died at Cambridge, Massachusetts, March 
 19, 1687, after a distinguished career as soldier, his- 
 torian, and protector of the Indians from unjust ex- 
 ploitations. Gookin went with his father to Virginia 
 in 1 62 1, but, sympathizing rather with the Puritan 
 than with the Cavalier, he moved, in 1644, t0 Cam- 
 bridge, where he was soon made captain of militia 
 and was elected to the Massachusetts House of Depu- 
 ties, of which he became Speaker in 165 1. In 1652 
 he was elected magistrate, and in 1656 appointed 
 Superintendent of all Indians under civil authority. 
 He held this office till his death, in spite of unpopu- 
 larity, occasioned by the protection he gave to his 
 aboriginal wards during and after King Philip's War. 
 He was associated with Eliot in mission work among 
 the Indians. He visited England in 1656 and again 
 in 1657, efficiently protecting on his return in 1660 
 the fugitive regicides Goffe and Whalley. He was 
 one of the licensers of the Cambridge Printing Press 
 in 1662, wrote in 1674 Historical Collections of the 
 Indians of Massachusetts (published by the Massa- 
 chusetts Historical Societv, 1792), and also a never- 
 published and long since lost History of New England. 
 The prospectus of this second book, issued with his 
 first, is so good as to make us regret greatly the loss 
 
 77 
 
78 DANIEL GOOKIN. 
 
 of his manuscript, which was probably destroyed by 
 fire. A third work of Gookin's, An Historical 
 Account of the Doings and Sufferings of the Christian 
 Indians in New England, finished in 1677, j ust a f ter 
 King Philip's War, was also lost for many years, but 
 was finally found in England and sent back to Amer- 
 ica, the American Antiquarian Society printing it in 
 the second volume of their Transactions (1836). 
 In 168 1 Gookin was made Major- General of the 
 Colony, and was an active assertor of popular rights 
 in the agitation which preceded the withdrawal of 
 the Colonial Charter (1686), thus recovering much 
 of the favor he had lost by his advocacy of charity 
 toward the Christian Indians. He died so poor that 
 his friend Eliot solicited ten pounds from Robert 
 Boyle for his widow. Both as a brave, good man 
 and a scholarly, straightforward writer he deserves to 
 be better remembered. 
 
 GOOKIN TO CHARLES II. 
 
 [From " Historical Collections of the Indians 
 in New England," written in 1674.] 
 
 the epistle dedicatory. 
 
 To the High and Mighty Prince Charles, by the 
 Grace of God, King of Great-Britain, France, and 
 Ireland, Defender of the Faith, &c. 
 
 Royal Sir, 
 
 I have read that Artaxerxes Mnemon, king of 
 
 Persia, going his progress, the people used to present 
 
GOOKIN TO CHARLES II. 79 
 
 him with their several gifts in the way ; and among 
 the rest a countryman, having nothing else to present 
 him with, ran to the river, and taking up his hands 
 full of water, presented him with that. Artaxerxes 
 was so taken therewith, that he gave the fellow a 
 considerable beneficence. 
 
 So have I, dread Sovereign, presumed to offer this 
 poor mite, as a testimony of my affection. I must 
 acknowledge it is most unworthy to kiss your royal 
 hands, being so meanly apparelled in an Indian garb. 
 But the matter therein contained, being a true account 
 of the progress of the Gospel among the poor Indians, 
 within your dominions, and that under the influence 
 of your royal favor, this, as I conceive, is not un- 
 meet for your Majesty's knowledge. Therefore let 
 it please your Majesty graciously to accept and peruse 
 these Collections, and especially that humble proposal 
 made in Chap. 12. Sect. 5. as a necessary expedient 
 to promote this great work, and which must have its 
 life, under God, from the rays of your Majesty's 
 favor. 
 
 The God of heaven and earth bless your Majesty 
 with all temporal, spiritual, and eternal blessings in 
 Christ Jesus ; and make you more and more a nursing 
 father to his church ; that under your shadow it 
 may rejoice, and every individual person thereof be 
 encouraged in all ways of godliness and honesty. 
 
 So prayeth he that is one of the most unworthy, 
 yet desirous to be reckoned among the number of 
 your Majesty's most dutiful and loyal subjects. 
 
 Daniel Gookin. 
 
 Cambridge in New England, December 7th, 1674. 
 
80 DANIEL GOOKIN. 
 
 THE ORIGIN OF THE INDIANS. 
 
 [From the Same, Chap. I.] 
 
 Concerning the original of the Savages, or Ind- 
 ians, in New England, there is nothing of certainty 
 to be concluded. But yet, as I conceive, it may 
 rationally be made out that all the Indians of America, 
 from the Straits of Magellan and its adjacent islands 
 on the south, unto the most northerly part yet dis- 
 covered, are originally of the same nations or sort of 
 people. Whatever I have read or seen to this pur- 
 pose, I am the more confirmed therein. I have seen 
 of this people, along the sea coasts and within land, 
 from the degrees of 34 unto 44 of north latitude ; 
 and have read of the Indians of Magellanico, Peru, 
 Brasilia, and Florida, and have also seen some of them 
 and unto my best apprehension, they are all the same 
 sort of people. 
 
 The color of their skins, the form and shape of 
 their bodies, hair, and eyes, demonstrate this. Their 
 skins are of a tawny color, not unlike the tawny 
 Moors in Africa ; the proportion of their limbs, well 
 formed ; it is rare to see a crooked person among 
 them. Their hair is black and harsh, not curling ; 
 their eyes, black and dull ; though I have seen, but 
 very rarely, a gray-eyed person among them, with 
 brownish hair. But still the difficulty yet remains, 
 whence all these Americans had their first original, 
 and from which of the sons of Noah they descended, 
 and how they came first into these parts ; which is 
 separated so very far from Europe and Africa by the 
 
ORIGIN OF THE INDIANS. 8 1 
 
 Atlantic Ocean, and from a great part of Asia, by 
 Mar del Zur, or the South sea : in which sea Sir 
 Francis Drake, that noble hero, in his famous voyage 
 about the world, sailed on the west of America, from 
 the straits of Magellan, lying about 52 degrees of south 
 latitude, unto 38 degrees of north latitude : where he 
 possessed a part of the country, and received subjection 
 from those very tractable Indians, in the right of the 
 English nation, and his sovereign prince, the famous 
 queen Elizabeth, then reigning, and her successors, 
 and gave it the name of New Albion : which country 
 lies west northerly of Massachusetts in New England : 
 for Boston lies in 42 30' and New Albion in 48 of 
 north latitude, which is near six degrees more northerly. 
 
 There are divers opinions about this matter. 
 
 First, some conceive that this people are of the 
 race of the ten tribes of Israel, that Shalmaneser car- 
 ried captive out of their own country, A.M. 3277, of 
 which we read in II. Kings, xviii. 9-12 ; and that 
 God hath, by some means or other, not yet discov- 
 ered, brought them into America ; and herein fulfilled 
 his just threatening against them, of which we may 
 read, II. Kings, xvii. from 6 to the 19 verse; and 
 hath reduced them into such woful blindness and bar- 
 barism, as all those Americans are in ; yet hath re- 
 served their posterity there : and in his own best time, 
 will fulfil and accomplish his promise, that those dry 
 bones shall live, of which we read Ezek. xxxvii. 1- 
 24. A reason given for this is taken from the prac- 
 tice of sundry Americans, especially of those inhabit- 
 ing Peru and Mexico, who were most populous, and 
 had great cities and wealth, and hence are probably 
 apprehended to be the first possessors of America. 
 
82 DANIEL GOOKIN. 
 
 Now of these the historians write, that they used cir- 
 cumcision and sacrifice, though oftentimes of human 
 flesh : so did the Israelites sacrifice their sons unto 
 Moloch, II. Kings, xvii., 17. But this opinion, that 
 these people are of the race of the Israelites, doth 
 not greatly obtain. But surely it is not impossible, 
 and perhaps not so improbable, as many learned men 
 think. 
 
 Secondly, another apprehension is, that the origi- 
 nal of these Americans is from the Tartars, or Scyth- 
 ians, that live in the north-east parts of Asia ; which 
 some good geographers conceive is nearly joined unto 
 the north-west parts of America, and possibly are one 
 continent, or at least separated but by some narrow 
 gulf; and from this beginning have spread themselves 
 into the several parts of the North and South America ; 
 and because the southern parts were more fertile, and 
 free from the cold winters incident to the northern 
 regions, hence the southern parts became first planted, 
 and most populous and rich. This opinion gained 
 more credit than the former, because the people of 
 America are not altogether unlike in color, shape, and 
 manners, unto the Scythian people, and in regard that 
 such a land travel is more feasible and probable than 
 a voyage by sea so great a distance, as is before ex- 
 pressed, from other inhabited places, either in Europe, 
 Asia, or Africa ; especially so long since, when we 
 hear of no sailing out of sight of land, before the use 
 of the loadstone and compass was found. But if this 
 people be sprung from the Tartarian or Scythian peo- 
 ple, as this notion asserts, then it is to me a question, 
 why they did not attend the known practice of that 
 people ; who, in all their removes and plantations, 
 
ORIGIN OF THE INDIANS. 83 
 
 take with them their kine, sheep, horses, and camels, 
 and the like tame beasts ; which that people keep in 
 great numbers, and drive with them in all their re- 
 moves. But of these sorts and kinds of beasts used 
 by the Tartars, none were found in America among 
 the Indians. This question or objection is answered 
 by some thus : First, possibly the first people were 
 banished for some notorious offences ; and so not per- 
 mitted to take with them of these tame beasts. Or, 
 secondly, possibly, the gulf, or passage, between 
 Asia and America, though narrow, comparatively, is 
 yet too broad to waft over any of those sort of 
 creatures ; and yet possibly men and women might 
 pass over it in canoes made of hollow trees, or with 
 barks of trees, wherein, it is known, the Indians will 
 transport themselves, wives and children, over lakes 
 and gulfs, very considerable for breadth. I have 
 known some to pass with like vessels forty miles 
 across an arm of the sea. 
 
 But before I pass to another thing, suppose it 
 should be so, that the origination of the Americans 
 came from Asia, by the north-west of America, 
 where the continents are conceived to meet very 
 near, which indeed is an opinion very probable ; yet 
 this doth not hinder the truth of the first conjecture, 
 that this people may be of the race of the ten tribes 
 of Israel : for the king of Assyria who led them cap- 
 tive, as we heard before, transported them into Asia, 
 and placed them in several provinces and cities, as in 
 II. Kings, xvii. 6. Now possibly, in process of 
 time, this people, or at least some considerable num- 
 ber of them, whcse custom and manner it was to 
 keep themselves distinct from the other nations they 
 
84 DANIEL GOOKIN. 
 
 lived amongst ; and did commonly intermarry only 
 with their own people ; and also their religion being 
 so different from the heathen, unto whom they were 
 generally an abomination, as they were to the Egyp- 
 tians ; and also partly from God's judgment following 
 them for their sins : I say, it is not impossible but a 
 considerable number of them might withdraw them- 
 selves ; and so pass gradually into the extreme parts 
 of the continent of Asia ; and wherever they came, 
 being disrelished by the heathen, might for their own 
 security pass further and further, till they found 
 America ; which being unpeopled, there they found 
 some rest ; and so, in many hundred of years, spread 
 themselves in America in that thin manner, as they 
 were found there, especially in the northern parts of 
 it ; which country is able to contain and accommo- 
 date millions of mankind more than were found in it. 
 And for their speech, which is not only different among 
 themselves, but from the Hebrew, that might easily be 
 lost by their often removes, or God's judgment. 
 
 A third conjecture of the original of these Indians, 
 is, that some of the tawny Moors of Africa, inhabiting 
 upon the sea coasts, in times of war and contention 
 among themselves, have put off to sea, and been 
 transported over, in such small vessels as those times 
 afforded, unto the south part of America, where the 
 two continents of Africa and America are nearest ; 
 and they could not have opportunity or advantage to 
 carry with the small vessels of those times any tame 
 beasts, such as were in that country. Some reasons 
 are given for this notion. First, because the Ameri- 
 cans are much like the Moors of Africa. Secondly, 
 the seas between the tropics are easy to pass, and safe 
 
ORIGIN OF THE INDIANS. 85 
 
 for small vessels ; the winds in those parts blowing 
 from the east to the west, and the current setting the 
 same course. Thirdly, because it is most probable, 
 that the inhabitants of America first came into the 
 south parts ; where were found the greatest numbers 
 of people, and the most considerable cities and riches. 
 
 But these, or any other notions, can amount to no 
 more than rational conjecture ; for a certainty of their 
 first extraction cannot be attained ; for they being 
 ignorant of letters and records of antiquity, as the 
 Europeans, Africans, and sundry of the Asians, are 
 and have been, hence any true knowledge of their 
 ancestors is utterly lost among them. I have dis- 
 coursed and questioned about this matter with some 
 of the most judicious of the Indians, but their answers 
 are divers and fabulous. Some of the inland Indians 
 say, that they came from such as inhabit the sea- 
 coasts. Others say, that there were two young 
 squaws, or women, being at first either swimming or 
 wading in the water ; the froth or foam of the water 
 touched their bodies, from whence they became with 
 child ; and one of them brought forth a male ; and 
 the other a female child ; and then the two women 
 died and left the earth : So their son and daughter 
 were their first progenitors. Other fables and fig- 
 ments are among them touching this thing, which 
 are not worthy to be inserted. These only may 
 suffice to give a taste of their great ignorance touching 
 their original ; the full determination whereof must be 
 left until the day, wherein all secret and hidden 
 things shall be manifested to the glory of God. 
 
 But this may upon sure grounds be asserted, that 
 they are Adam's posterity, and consequently children 
 
86 DANIEL GOOKIN. 
 
 of wrath ; and hence are not only objects of all 
 christians' pity and compassion, but subjects upon 
 which our faith, prayers, and best endeavours should 
 be put forth to reduce them from barbarism to civil- 
 ity ; but especially to rescue them out of the bondage 
 of Satan, and bring them to salvation by our Lord 
 Jesus Christ ; which is the main scope and design of 
 this tractate. 
 
 THE GRATITUDE OF HIACOOMES. 
 
 [From the Same, Chap. III.] 
 
 In this strait, several of their carnal and uncon- 
 verted kindred and relations applied themselves unto 
 Hiacoomes and his wife, [who was in a delicate con- 
 dition and dangerously ill] pressing them to send for 
 a powow, and use that help for relief. But both 
 husband and wife utterly refused their temptation ; 
 the man being willing to submit to God's disposal, 
 and lose his wife, though he loved her dearly, rather 
 than take assistance from the devil and his instruments, 
 whom he had renounced ; and the woman, who was 
 the sufferer, yet, through the grace of God, was 
 endowed with such christian fortitude, that she also 
 utterly refused this method for her deliverance, and 
 would rather lose her life than seek help that way. 
 In this exigence, they earnestly cried to God in 
 prayer, to show mercy to them for Jesus Christ's 
 sake ; imploring also the prayers of Mr. Thomas 
 Mayhew, junior, their teacher, and other English 
 christians, living nigh them. Mr. Mayhew, being 
 
THE GRATITUDE OF HIACOOMES. 87 
 
 affected with the case, got together some godly 
 christians to meet together ; and those kept a day of 
 fasting and prayer, to implore the help of God for 
 these poor, distressed, christian Indians. And the 
 Lord was graciously pleased to hear and answer their 
 prayers, and shortly after gave the woman safe de- 
 liverance of a daughter ; which the father named by 
 a word in the Indian language, which signified in 
 English, Return. When Mr. Mayhew, the minis- 
 ter, understood this, he demanded of Hiacoomes the 
 reason, why he gave his daughter that name ; whose 
 answer was to this effect : Sir, said he, a little while 
 since, you know, I and my wife and children, were 
 travelling on apace in the broad way to hell and all 
 misery, and going from God ; but now, since you 
 preached to us, I, and my wife and children, are, 
 through God's grace, returnbig back the contrary 
 way, with our faces set towards God, heaven, and 
 happiness. Secondly, you know, before my wife 
 was delivered of this child, how great peril of life she 
 was in, and God seemed to be very angry with us ; 
 but he was intreated and heard our prayers, and is 
 returned to us with mercies, in my wife's safe deliver- 
 ance of this daughter. And for these two reasons, I 
 call this child Return. This story is most certainly 
 true ; and was told me distinctly by Mr. Thomas 
 Mayhew, junior, their minister, Hiacoomes being 
 present, in travelling on foot between Watertown lec- 
 ture and Cambridge, the Indian that was the principal 
 person concerned being with him. . . . 
 
88 DANIEL GOOKIN. 
 
 CONCERNING -CHOICE INDIAN 
 YOUTHS." 
 
 [From the Same, Chap. V.] 
 
 There was much cost out of the Corporation stock 
 expended in this work, for fitting and preparing the 
 Indian youth to be learned and able preachers unto 
 their countrymen. Their diet, apparel, books, and 
 schooling, was chargeable. In truth the design was 
 prudent, noble, and good ; but it proved ineffectual 
 to the ends proposed. For several of the said youth 
 died, after they had been sundry years at learning 
 and made good proficiency therein. Others were 
 disheartened and left learning, after they were almost 
 ready for the college. And some returned to live 
 among their countrymen ; where some of them are 
 improved for school-masters and teachers, unto which 
 they are advantaged by their education. Some others 
 of them have entered upon other callings : as one is a 
 mariner ; another, a carpenter ; another went for 
 England with a gentleman, that lived sometimes at 
 Cambridge in New England, named Mr. Drake, 
 which Indian, as I heard, died there not many 
 months after his arrival. 
 
 I remember but only two of them all, that lived in 
 the college at Cambridge ; the one named Joel, the 
 other, Caleb ; both natives of Martha's Vineyard. 
 These two were hopeful young men, especially Joel, 
 being so ripe in learning, that he should, within a 
 few months, have taken his first degree of bachelor 
 of art in the college. He took a voyage to Martha's 
 
CHOICE INDIAN YOUTHS. 89 
 
 Vineyard to visit his father and kindred, a little before 
 the commencement ; but upon his return back in a 
 vessel, with other passengers and mariners, suffered 
 shipwreck upon the island of Nantucket ; where the 
 bark was found put on shore ; and in all probability 
 the people in it came on shore alive, but afterwards 
 were murdered by some wicked Indians of that place ; 
 who, for lucre of the spoil in the vessel, which was 
 laden with goods, thus cruelly destroyed the people 
 in it ; for which fault some of those Indians was con- 
 victed and executed afterwards. Thus perished our 
 hopeful young prophet Joel. He was a good scholar 
 and a pious man, as I judge. I knew him well ; for 
 he lived and was taught in the same town where I 
 dwell. I observed him for several years, after he 
 was grown to years of discretion, to be not only a 
 diligent student, but an attentive hearer of God's 
 word ; diligently- writing the sermons, and frequent- 
 ing lectures ; grave and sober in his conversation. 
 
 The other called Caleb, not long after he took his 
 degree of bachelor of art at Cambridge in New 
 England, died of a consumption at Charlestown, 
 where he was placed by Mr. Thomas Danforth, who 
 had inspection over him, under the care of a physi- 
 cian in order to his health ; where he wanted not for 
 the best means the country could afford, both of 
 food and physic ; but God denied the blessing, and 
 put a period to his days. 
 
 Of this disease of the consumption sundry of those 
 Indian youths died, that were bred up to school 
 among the English. The truth is, this disease is 
 frequent among the Indians ; and sundry die of it, 
 that live not with the English. A hectic fever, issu- 
 
90 DANIEL GOOKIN. 
 
 ing in a consumption, is a common and mortal dis- 
 ease among them. I know some have apprehended 
 other causes of the mortality of these Indian scholars. 
 Some have attributed it unto the great change upon 
 their bodies, in respect of their diet, lodging, apparel, 
 studies ; so much different from what they were 
 inured to among their own countrymen. 
 
 These awful providences of God, in frustrating the 
 hopeful expectations concerning the learned Indian 
 youth, who were designed to be for teachers unto 
 their countrymen, concurring with some other severe 
 dispensations of God obstructive to this work, — some 
 whereof may be hereafter mentioned, — - caused great 
 thoughts of heart unto the well-willers and promoters 
 thereof. Some conceived, God was not pleased yet 
 to make use of any of the Indians to preach the 
 Gospel ; and that the time of the great harvest of 
 their ingathering is not yet come, but will follow after 
 the calling of the Jews. Others thought that this 
 honor of their instruction and conversion shall be con- 
 tinued with Englishmen. Others were of opinion, 
 that Satan, the great enemy and opposer of men's 
 salvation, who had for many years held these poor 
 barbarians under his dominion, did use all his strata- 
 gems and endeavors to impede the spreading of the 
 Christian faith, that he might the better keep pos- 
 session of his kingdom among them. But others, 
 whose faith I hope in God was active and vigorous, 
 did conclude that there was nothing more in these 
 providences and remoras, than did usually attend and 
 accompany all good designs, tending to the glory of 
 God and salvation of souls ; whereof plentiful 
 examples are recorded in Holy Scriptures, especially 
 
WANNALANCET'S CANOE. 9 I 
 
 in the primitive times ; which in several chapters or 
 the Acts of the Apostles may be demonstrated. . . . 
 
 WANNALANCET'S CANOE. 
 
 [From the Same, Chap. VII.] 
 
 May 5th, 1674, according to our usual custom, 
 Mr. Eliot and myself took our journey to Wamesit, 
 or Pawtuckett ; and arriving there that evening, Mr. 
 Eliot preached to as many of them as could be got 
 together, out of Mat. xxii. 1-14, the parable of the 
 marriage of the King's son. We met at the wigwam 
 of one called Wannalancet, about two miles from the 
 town, near Pawtuckett Falls, and bordering upon 
 Merrimac River. This person, Wannalancet, is the 
 eldest son of old Pasaconaway, the chiefest sachem 
 of Pawtuckett. He is a sober and grave person, and 
 of years, between fifty and sixty. He hath been 
 always loving and friendly to the English. Many 
 endeavors have been used several years to gain this 
 sachem to embrace the Christian religion ; but he 
 hath stood off from time to time, and not yielded up 
 himself personally, though for four years past he 
 hath been willing to hear the word of God preached, 
 and to keep the Sabbath. A great reason that hath 
 kept him off, I conceive, hath been the indisposition 
 and averseness of sundry of his chief men and rela- 
 tions to pray to God ; which he foresaw would 
 desert him, in case he turned Christian. But at this 
 time, May 6th, 1674, it pleased God so to influence 
 and overcome his heart, that it being proposed to him 
 
92 DANIEL GOOKIN. 
 
 to give his answer concerning praying to God, after 
 some deliberation and serious pause he stood up, and 
 made a speech to this effect : — 
 
 "Sirs, you have been pleased for four years last 
 past, in your abundant love, to apply yourselves par- 
 ticularly unto me and my people, to exhort, press, 
 and persuade us to pray to God. I am very thank- 
 ful to you for your pains. I must acknowledge," 
 said he, ** I have, all my days, used to pass in an 
 old canoe" (alluding to his frequent custom to pass 
 in a canoe upon the river), "and now you exhort 
 me to change and leave my old canoe, and embark 
 in a new canoe, to which I have hitherto been un- 
 willing : but now I yield up myself to your advice, 
 and enter into a new canoe, and do engage to pray 
 to God hereafter." 
 
 This his professed subjection was well pleasing to all 
 that were present, of which there were some English 
 persons of quality ; as Mr. Richard Daniel, a gentle- 
 man that lived in Billerica, about six miles off: and 
 Lieutenant Henchman, a neighbor at Chelmsford ; 
 besides brother Eliot and myself, with sundry others, 
 English and Indians. Mr. Daniel before named 
 desired brother Eliot to tell this sachem from him, 
 that it may be, while he went in his old canoe, he 
 passed in a quiet stream : but the end thereof was 
 death and destruction to soul and body. But now 
 he went into a new canoe, perhaps he would meet 
 with storms and trials ; but yet he should be. encour- 
 aged to persevere, for the end of his voyage would be 
 everlasting rest. Moreover he and his people were 
 exhorted by brother Eliot and myself to go on and 
 sanctify the Sabbath, to hear the Word, and use the 
 
ONE OF GOD'S ENDS. 93 
 
 means that God hath appointed, and encourage their 
 hearts in the Lord their God. Since that time J hear 
 this sachem doth persevere, and is a constant and 
 diligent hearer of God's Word, and sanctifieth the 
 Sabbath, though he doth travel to Wamesit meeting 
 every Sabbath, which is above two miles ; and though 
 sundry of his people have deserted him, since he 
 subjected to the Gospel, yet he continues and 
 persists. 
 
 ONE OF GOD'S ENDS. 
 
 [From "An Historical Account of the Doings 
 and Sufferings of the Christian Indians."] 
 
 4thly. Doubtless one great end God aimed at was 
 the punishment and destruction of many of the wicked 
 heathen, whose iniquities were now full ; the last 
 period whereof was their malignant opposition to the 
 offers of the Gospel, for the Pakanahats and the Nar- 
 ragansetts, those two great nations upon whom the 
 dint of war hath most especially fallen, (for they are 
 almost totally destroyed), had once and again the 
 Gospel offered to them. But their chief Sachems 
 malignantly rejected and opposed it, and consequently 
 the people followed their examples. And notwith- 
 standing they were very conversant among the Eng- 
 lish, especially the Narragansetts, and commendable 
 for their industry and labor among the English, yet 
 had the most of them no hearing ears unto the glad 
 tidings of salvation offered in the Gospel, and very 
 few of them delighted in communion with the Chris- 
 dan Indians. And here I shall insert a matter of 
 
94 DANIEL GOOKIN. 
 
 remark. After the war began with Philip, the Eng- 
 lish, having cause to be suspicious of the Narragan- 
 setts sent some soldiers to Mr. Smith's of Wickford, 
 that lived near them, designing thereby to put upon 
 them a necessity to declare themselves friends or ene- 
 mies, and to push upon them the performances of 
 former articles of agreement between the English and 
 them, at which time, being in July, 1675, they com- 
 plied to a treaty of continuing in peace and friendship 
 with the English. But among other articles, the 
 Narragansetts, by their agent Potuche, urged that the 
 English should not send any among them to preach 
 the Gospel or call upon them to pray to God. But, 
 the English refusing to concede to such an article, it 
 was withdrawn, and a peace concluded for that time. 
 In this act they declared what their hearts were, viz. to 
 reject Christ and his grace offered to them before. But 
 the Lord Jesus, before the expiration of 18 months 
 destroyed the body of the Narragansett nation, that 
 would not have him to reign over them, particularly 
 all their chief Sachems and this Potuche, a chief coun- 
 cillor and subtle fellow, who was taken at Rhode 
 Island, coming voluntarily there, and afterward sent 
 to Boston and there executed. 
 
 THE WILES OF THE INDIANS. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 . . . The English at first thought easily to chas- 
 tise the insolent doings and murderous practices of the 
 heathen. But it was found another manner of thing 
 
THE WILES OF THE INDIANS. 95 
 
 than was expected ; for our men could see no enemy 
 to shoot at, but yet felt their bullets out of the thick 
 bushes where they lay in ambushments. The enemy 
 also used this stratagem, to apparel themselves from 
 the waist upwards with green boughs, that our Eng- 
 lishmen could not readily discern them, or distinguish 
 them from the natural bushes ; this manner of fight- 
 ing our men had little experience of, and hence were 
 under great disadvantages. The English wanted not 
 courage or resolution, but could not discern or find an 
 enemy to fight with, yet were galled by the enemy. 
 The Council, having advice hereof from the com- 
 manders of the army, judged it very necessary to arm 
 and send forth some of the Praying Indians to assist 
 our forces, hereby not only to try their fidelity, but 
 to deal the better with the enemy in their own ways 
 and methods, according to the Indian manner of fight- 
 ing, wherein our Indians were well skilled, and had 
 our [their] counsel practiced, and also to be as scouts 
 and forlorns to the English ; for the Indians generally 
 excel in a quick and strong sight for the discovery of 
 any thing ; and then they have a very accurate sagac- 
 ity in discovering the tracks of man or beast. And 
 also they are subtle and wily to accomplish their enter- 
 prise, especially they keep a deep silence in their 
 marches and motions, whereas the English are more 
 prone to talk to one another and make a noise, 
 whereby the enemy, discovering them before they 
 come near, either prepare for them, or take their 
 flight, as is most for their advantage. And here I 
 shall take leave, as a parenthesis, to insert a short 
 and true story of an Indian chief, captain under Un- 
 cas, who marching in this war as scout with some 
 
96 DANIEL GOOKIN. 
 
 English soldiers, of Connecticut, one of the English 
 soldiers had on a new pair of shoes that made a creak- 
 ing noise as they travelled. The Indian captain was 
 not quiet until he had persuaded the fellow with creak- 
 ing shoes to take his moccasins and wear them, and the 
 Indian carried the Englishman's shoes at his back, and 
 went himself barefoot. Another English soldier had 
 on a pair of leather breeches, which being dry made 
 a rustling noise ; the Indian captain was not satisfied 
 until he had persuaded the man to take off his breeches, 
 or else to wet them in the water to prevent their rust- 
 ling. By this relation, which is a truth, we may 
 observe how circumspect and careful they are in order 
 to obtain advantage of their enemy. 
 
 DEFENCE OF THE INDIANS. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 Notwithstanding the Council's endeavors in the 
 former orders, and the testimony of these English 
 witnesses on behalf of the Christian Indians, yet the 
 clamors and animosity among the common people 
 increased daily, not only against those Indians, but 
 also all such English as were judged to be charitable 
 to them. And particularly, many harsh reflections 
 and speeches were uttered against Major Daniel 
 Gookin, and Mr. John Eliot, the former of whom 
 had been appointed by the authority of the General 
 Court of Massachusetts, and approbation of the 
 Honorable Governor and Corporation for Gospeliz- 
 ing those Indians, to rule and govern those Indians 
 
DEFENCE OF THE INDIANS. 97 
 
 about twenty years, and the latter had been their 
 teacher and minister about thirty years, as if they did 
 support and protect those Indians against the English ; 
 whereas (God knows) there was no ground for such 
 an imputation, but was a device and contrivance of 
 Satan and his instruments, to hinder and subvert the 
 work of religion among the Indians ; for neither had 
 any of our Christian Indians been justly charged, 
 either with unfaithfulness, or treachery towards the 
 English, since the war begun (that I know of). 
 But on the contrary, some of them had discovered the 
 treachery, particularly Walcut the ruler . . . of Philip, 
 before he began any act of hostility, as is before men- 
 tioned, and since the war have Served the English 
 faithfully, but yet must be content to receive such 
 retribution from too many, (at whose hands they 
 have deserved other things,) but now both the Chris- 
 tian Indians, and all that favored them are enemies to 
 the English, and ought to be proceeded against 
 accordingly, if some men might have had their wills, 
 so great was the rage and unreasonable prejudice of 
 many at the time. It might rationally have been con- 
 sidered, that those two persons above named, who 
 had (one of them for above twenty years, and the 
 other about thirty years,) been acquainted with, and 
 conversant among those Christian Indians, should have 
 more knowledge and experience of them than others 
 had, and consequently should be able to speak more 
 particularly concerning such of those Indians whom 
 they knew (according to a judgment of charity) to be 
 honest and pious persons. And if at such a time, they 
 should have been wholly silent and remiss in giving a 
 modest testimony concerning them when called there- 
 
98 DANIEL GOOKIN. 
 
 unto, God might justly have charged it upon them, as a 
 sin and neglect of their duty, had they for fear declined 
 to witness the truth for Christ, and for these his poor 
 distressed servants, some of the Christian Indians. 
 And in this day of Massah and Meribah, some that 
 have the repute and I hope truly godly men, were so 
 far gone with the temptation, that they accounted it a 
 crime in any man to say that they hoped some of those 
 Indians were pious persons, or that they had grounds 
 of persuasion that such and such would be saved. 
 This cruel frame of spirit (for I can give it no gentler 
 denomination) arose I apprehend from a double 
 ground, first, the malice of Satan against Christ's 
 work among those Indians and to hinder their prog- 
 ress in religion : for they rinding Englishmen, pro- 
 fessing the Christian religion, so enraged against them, 
 and injurious to them without cause, as they well 
 knew in their own consciences, whatever others 
 thought or spake to the contrary, this was a sore 
 temptation to such weak ones and little children as it 
 were in the ways of Christianity, and hereby to in- 
 cline them to apostasy, and if the devil by this strata- 
 gem could have prevailed, then the whole work of 
 Christ among them, so spoken of, blessed and owned 
 by the Lord, would have been utterly overthrown : 
 this would have gratified Satan and his instruments 
 greatly. 
 
THOMAS WHEELER. 
 
 Thomas Wheeler, a New England soldier and 
 annalist, was born in England about 1620, and died 
 at Concord, Massachusetts, in 1686, having settled 
 there soon after his emigration in 1642. He took 
 part in King Philip's War, and was appointed, 
 shortly after the outbreak of hostilities in July, 1675, 
 military escort to Captain Edward Hutchinson of 
 Boston, who had been commissioned by the Colonial 
 Council to treat with the Indian Sachems in the 
 Nipnuck country. King Philip, jealous of the en- 
 croachments of English settlers upon his hunting 
 grounds, had begun his aggressions in the preceding 
 month. He succeeded in combining nearly all the 
 Indians of New England against the invaders, and 
 the expedition of Hutchinson failed, the latter with 
 twenty men being waylaid and slain at Brookfield on 
 the 2nd of August. Wheeler's narrative of this 
 expedition exhibits him as a faithful soldier of the 
 Colony and of the God of the Puritans, but as a 
 writer endowed with no gifts of literary expression. 
 Yet his tract, as the half of it we give shows, is not 
 without a certain savory interest from the very quaint- 
 ness of its phraseology. It was first published in 
 1676. In 1827 it appeared in the second volume 
 of the Collections of the New Hampshire Historical 
 Society. 
 
 99 
 
100 THOMAS WHEELER. 
 
 A TRUE NARRATIVE. 
 
 Of the Lord's Providences in Various Dispensa- 
 tions towards Captain Edward Hutchinson of 
 Boston and Myself, and those that went with 
 us into the nlpmuck country, and also to 
 
 QuABAUG, ALIAS BrOOKFIELD : The SAID CaPTAIN 
 
 Hutchinson having a Commission from the 
 Honored Council of this Colony to treat with 
 several Sachems in those Parts in Order to the 
 Public Peace, and Myself being ordered by the 
 said Council to Accompany Him with part of my 
 Troop for Security from any Danger that might 
 be from the Indians : and to assist Him in the 
 Transaction of Matters committed to Him. 
 
 The said Captain Hutchinson and myself with 
 about twenty men or more marched from Cambridge 
 to Sudbury, July 28th, '75, and from thence into the 
 Nipmuck country, and finding that the Indians had 
 deserted their towns, and we having gone until we 
 came within twenty miles of New Norwich, on 
 July 31st (only we saw two Indians having an horse 
 with them, whom we would have spoke with, but 
 they fled from us and' left their horse, which we 
 took). We then thought it not expedient to march 
 any further that way, but set our march for Brook- 
 field, whither we came on the Lord's day about noon. 
 From thence the same day (being August 1st), we 
 understanding that the Indians were about ten miles 
 north-west from us, we sent out four men to 
 acquaint the Indians that we were not come to harm 
 
A TRUE NARRATIVE. 101 
 
 them, but our business was only to deliver a message 
 from our honored Governor and Council to them, and 
 to receive their answer, we desiring to come to a treaty 
 of peace with them (though they had for several days 
 fled from us), they having before professed friendship 
 and promised fidelity to the English. 
 
 When the messengers came to them, they made an 
 alarm and gathered together about an hundred and 
 fifty fighting men, as near as they could judge. The 
 young men amongst them were stout in their speeches 
 and surly in their carriage. But at length three of 
 the chief sachems promised to meet us on the next 
 morning about eight of the clock, upon a plain within 
 three miles of Brookfield, with which answer the 
 messengers returned to us. Whereupon, though 
 their speeches and carriage did much discourage 
 divers of our company, yet we conceived that we 
 had a clear call to go to meet them at the place 
 whither they had promised to come. Accordingly 
 we with our men accompanied with three of the 
 principal inhabitants of that town marched to the 
 plain appointed ; but the treacherous heathen intend- 
 ing mischief (if they could have opportunity) came 
 not to the said place, and so failed our hopes of speak- 
 ing with them there. Whereupon the said Captain 
 Hutchinson and myself with the rest of our company 
 considered what was best to be done, whether we 
 should go any further towards them, or return, divers 
 of us apprehending much danger in case we did pro- 
 ceed, because the Indians kept not promise therewith 
 us. But the three men who belonged to Brookfield 
 were so strongly persuaded of their freedom from any 
 ill intentions towards us (as upon other grounds, so 
 
102 THOMAS WHEELER. 
 
 especially because the greatest part of those Indians 
 belonged to David, one of their chief sachems, who 
 was taken to be a great friend to the English), that 
 the said Captain Hutchinson, who was principally 
 instructed with the matter of treaty with them, was 
 thereby encouraged to proceed and march forward 
 towards a swamp where the Indians then were. 
 
 When we came near the said swamp, the way was so 
 very bad that we could march only in single file, there 
 being a very rocky hill on the right hand and a thick 
 swamp on the left, in which there were many of those 
 cruel bloodthirsty heathen, who there waylaid us, wait- 
 ing an opportunity to cut us off; there being also 
 much brush on the side of the said hill, where they lay 
 in ambush to surprise us. When we had marched there 
 about sixty or seventy rods, the said perfidious Indians 
 sent out their shot upon us as a shower of hail, they 
 being, as was supposed, about two hundred men or 
 more. We seeing ourselves so beset, and not having 
 room to fight, endeavored to fly for the safety of our 
 lives. In which flight we were in no small danger 
 to be all cut off", there being a very miry swamp be- 
 fore us, into which we could not enter with our horses 
 to go forwards ; and there being no safety in retreat- 
 ing the way we came, because many of our enemies 
 who lay behind the bushes and had let us pass by them 
 quietly, when others had shot, they came out and 
 stopt our way back ; — so that we were forced as we 
 could to get up the steep and rocky hill. But the 
 greater our danger was, the greater was God's mercy 
 in the preservation of so many from sudden destruction. 
 Myself being gone up part of the hill without any 
 hurt, and perceiving some of my men to be fallen by 
 
A TRUE NARRATIVE. 103 
 
 the enemies' shot, I wheeled about upon the Indians, 
 not calling on my men who were left to accompany 
 me, which they in all probability would have done 
 had they known of my return upon the enemy. They 
 firing violently out of the swamp, and from behind 
 the bushes on the hillside, wounded me sorely and 
 shot my horse under me, so that he faltering and fall- 
 ing, I was forced to leave him, divers of the Indians 
 being then but a few rods distant from me. My son 
 Thomas Wheeler flying with the rest of the company 
 missed me amongst them, and fearing that I was either 
 slain or much endangered, returned towards the swamp 
 again, though he had then received a dangerous wound 
 in the reins ; where he saw me in the danger afore- 
 said. Whereupon he endeavored to rescue me, show- 
 ing himself therein a loving and dutiful son, he 
 adventuring himself into great peril of his life to help 
 me in that distress ; there being many of the enemies 
 about him. My son set me on his own horse, and 
 so escaped awhile on foot himself, until he caught an 
 horse whose rider was slain, on which he mounted, 
 and so through God's great mercy we both escaped. 
 But in this attempt for my deliverance he received 
 another dangerous wound by their shot in his left arm. 
 There were then slain to our grief eight men. . . . 
 There were also then five persons wounded, viz., 
 Captain Hutchinson, myself and my son Thomas as 
 aforesaid, Corporal French of Billericay, who having 
 killed an Indian was (as he was taking up his gun) 
 shot, and part of one of his thumbs taken off, and 
 also dangerously wounded through the body near the 
 shoulder. The fifth was John Waldoe of Chelmsford 
 who was not so dangerously wounded as the rest. 
 
104 THOMAS WHEELER. 
 
 They also then killed five of our horses and wounded 
 some more, which soon died after they came to Brook- 
 field. Upon this sudden and unexpected blow given 
 us (wherein we desire to look higher than man, the 
 instrument) we return to the town as fast as the bad- 
 ness of the way and the weakness of our wounded 
 men would permit, we being then ten miles from it. 
 All the while we were going we durst not stay to 
 staunch the bleeding of our wounded men for fear the 
 enemy should have surprised us again, which they 
 attempted to do, and had in probability done, but 
 that we perceiving which way they went, wheeled 
 off to the other hand, and so by God's good Provi- 
 dence towards us, they missed us ; and we all came 
 readily upon, and safely to the town, though none of 
 us knew the way to it, those of the place being slain 
 as aforesaid, and we avoiding any thick woods and 
 riding in open places to prevent danger by them. 
 Being got to the town we speedily betook ourselves 
 to one of the largest and strongest houses therein, 
 where we fortified ourselves in the best manner we 
 could in such straits of time, and there resolved to 
 keep garrison, though we were but few, and meanly 
 fitted to make resistance against so many enemies. 
 The news of the Indians' treacherous dealing with us, 
 and the loss of so many of our company thereby, did 
 so amaze the inhabitants of the town, that they being 
 informed thereof by us presently left their houses, 
 divers of them carrying very little away with them, 
 they being afraid of the Indians' sudden coming upon 
 them : and so came to the house we were entered 
 into, very meanly provided of clothing or furnished 
 with provisions. 
 
A TRUE NARRATIVE. 105 
 
 I perceiving myself to be disenabled for the dis- 
 charge of the duties of my place by reason of the 
 wound I had received, and apprehending that the 
 enemy would soon come to spoil the town and assault 
 us in the house, 1 appointed Simon Davis of Con- 
 cord; James Richardson and John Fiske of Chelms- 
 ford to manage affairs for our safety with those few 
 men whom God hath left us, and were fit for any 
 service, and the inhabitants of the said town, — who 
 did well and commendably perform the duties of the 
 trust committed to them, with much courage and 
 resolution, through the assistance of our gracious God, 
 who did not leave us in our low and distressed state, 
 but did mercifully appear for us in our greatest need 
 as in the sequel will clearly be manifested. 
 
 Within two hours after our coming to the said 
 house, or less, the said Captain Hutchinson and my- 
 self posted away Ephraim Curtis of Sudbury and 
 Henry Young of Concord to go to the honored Coun- 
 cil at Boston to give them an account of the Lord's 
 dealings with us and our present condition. When 
 they came to the further end of the town they saw 
 the enemy rifling of houses which the inhabitants had 
 forsaken. The post fired upon them and immedi- 
 ately returned to us again, they discerning no safety 
 in going forward, and being desirous to inform us of 
 the enemies' actings, that we might the more prepare 
 for a sudden assault by them. Which indeed pres- 
 ently followed, for as soon as the said post was come 
 back to us, the barbarous heathen pressed upon us in 
 the house with great violence, sending in their shot 
 amongst us like hail through the walls, and shouting 
 as if they would have swallowed us up alive ; but 
 
106 THOMAS WHEELER. 
 
 our good God wrought wonderfully for us, so that 
 there was but one man wounded within the house, 
 viz., the said Henry Young who, looking out at a 
 garret window that evening, was mortally wounded 
 by a shot, of which wound he died within two days 
 after. There was the same day another man slain, 
 but not in the house. A son of Sergeant Prichard's, 
 adventuring out of the house wherein we were to his 
 father's house not far from it, to fetch more goods 
 out of it, was caught by those cruel enemies as they 
 were coming towards us, who cut off his head, kick- 
 ing it about like a foot-ball, and then putting it upon 
 a pole, they set it up before the door of his father's 
 house, in our sight. 
 
 The night following the said blow, they did roar 
 against us like so many wild bulls, sending in their 
 shot amongst us till towards the moon-rising, which 
 was about three of the clock ; at which time they 
 attempted to fire our house by hay and other combus- 
 tible matter which they brought to one corner of the 
 house and set it on fire. Whereupon some of our 
 company were necessitated to expose themselves to 
 very great danger to put it out. Simon Davis, one 
 of the three appointed by myself as Captain, to sup- 
 ply my place by reason of my wounds as aforesaid, 
 he, being of a lively spirit, encouraged the soldiers 
 within the house to fire upon the Indians ; and also 
 those that adventured to put out the fire (which began 
 to rage and kindle upon the house side) with these 
 and the like words, that " God is with us and fights 
 for us, and will deliver us out of the hands of these 
 heathen," — which expressions of his the Indians 
 hearing, they shouted and scoffed, saying : " Now 
 
A TRUE NARRATIVE. 107 
 
 see how your God delivers you," or f will deliver 
 you," sending in many shots whilst our men were 
 putting out the fire. But the Lord of Hosts wrought 
 very graciously for us, in preserving our bodies both 
 within and without the house from their shot, and 
 our house from being consumed by fire. We had but 
 two men wounded in that attempt of theirs, but we ap- 
 prehended that we killed divers of our enemies. . . . 
 
 The next day being August 3d they continued 
 shooting and shouting, and proceeded in their former 
 wickedness, blaspheming the name of the Lord and 
 reproaching us, his afflicted servants, scoffing at our 
 prayers as they were sending in their shot upon all 
 quarters of the house. And many of them went to 
 the town's meeting-house, which was within twenty 
 rods of the house in which we were, who mocked, 
 saying : a Come and pray and sing psalms," and in 
 contempt made an hideous noise somewhat resem- 
 bling singing. But we to our power did endeavor 
 our own defence, sending our shot amongst them, 
 the Lord giving us courage to resist them, and pre- 
 serving us from the destruction they sought to bring 
 upon us. On the evening following we saw our ene- 
 mies carrying several of their dead or wounded men 
 on their backs, who proceeded that night to send in 
 their shot as they had done the night before, and also 
 still shouted as if the day had been certainly theirs, 
 and they should without fail have pervailed against 
 us ; which they might have the more hopes of in 
 regard that we discerned the coming of new compa- 
 nies to them to assist and strengthen them, and the 
 unlikelihood of any coming to our help. 
 
 They also used several stratagems to fire us, 
 
108 THOMAS WHEELER. 
 
 namely, by "wild fire" in coiton and linen rags 
 with brimstone in them, which rags they tied to the 
 piles of their arrows, sharp for the purpose, and shot 
 them to the roof of our house, after they had set 
 them on fire ; which would have much endangered 
 the burning thereof had we not used means, by cutting 
 holes through the roof and otherwise, to beat the said 
 arrows down, and God being pleased to prosper our 
 endeavors therein. They carried more combustible 
 matter, as flax and hay, to the sides of the house and 
 set it on fire, and then flocked apace towards the door 
 of the house, either to prevent our going forth to 
 quench the fire as we had done before, or to kill our 
 men in their attempt to go forth ; or else to break 
 into the house by the door. Whereupon we were 
 forced to break down the wall of the house against 
 the fire to put it out. They also shot a ball of" wild 
 fire" into the garret of the house, which fell amongst 
 a great heap of flax or tow therein ; which one of our 
 soldiers through God's good Providence soon espied, 
 and having water ready, presently quenched it. And 
 so we were preserved by the Keeper of Israel, both 
 our bodies from their shot, which they sent thick 
 against us, and the house from being consumed to 
 ashes, although we were but weak to defend our- 
 selves ; we being not above twenty and six men with 
 those of that small town who were able for any ser- 
 vice, and our enemies, as I judged them, about (if 
 not above) three hundred. . . . 
 
 On Wednesday, August the fourth, the Indians 
 fortified themselves at the meeting-house, and the 
 barn belonging to our house, which they fortified 
 both at the great doors at both ends with posts, 
 
A TRUE NARRATIVE. 109 
 
 rails, boards, and hay to save themselves from our 
 shot. They also devised other stratagems to fire 
 our house on the night following, namely, they 
 took a cart, and filled it with flax, hay and candle- 
 wood, and other combustible matter, and set up 
 planks fastened to the cart to save themselves from 
 the danger of our shot. Another invention they 
 had, to make the more sure work in burning the 
 house : They got many poles of a considerable length 
 and bigness and spliced them together at the ends one 
 of another, and made a carriage of them about four- 
 teen rods long, setting the poles in two rows with 
 piles laid cross over them at the front end, and 
 dividing them, said poles, about three foot asunder, 
 and in the said front of this their carriage they set 
 a barrel, having made an hole through both heads, 
 and put an axle-tree through them, to which they 
 fastened the said poles, and under every joint of the 
 poles where they were spliced, they set up a pair of 
 truckle wheels to bear up the said carriages ; and they 
 loaded the front or fore-end thereof with matter fit 
 for firing, as hay, and flax, and chips, etc. Two 
 of these instruments they prepared, that they might 
 convey fire to the house with the more safety to 
 themselves, they standing at such a distance from our 
 shot whilst they wheeled them to the house. Great 
 store of arrows they had also prepared to shoot fire 
 upon the house that night ; which we found after 
 they were gone, they having left them there. But 
 the Lord who is a present help in times of trouble, 
 and is pleased to make his people's extremity his 
 opportunity, did graciously prevent them of effect- 
 ing what they hoped they should have done by the 
 
110 THOMAS WHEELER. 
 
 aforesaid devices ; partly by sending a shower of 
 rain in season, whereby the matter prepared being 
 wet would not so easily take fire as it otherwise 
 would have done, and partly by aid coming to our 
 help. For our danger would have been very great 
 that night, had not the only wise God (blessed for- 
 ever) been pleased to send to us about an hour 
 within night the worshipful Major Willard, with 
 Captain Parker of Groton and forty-six men more 
 with five Indians, to relieve us in the low estate into 
 which we were brought. 
 
 Our eyes were unto Him the Holy One of 
 Israel ; in Him we desired to place our trust. . . . 
 And God who comforteth the afflicted, as He com- 
 forted the holy Apostle Paul by the coming of Titus 
 to him, so He greatly comforted us, his distressed 
 servants, both soldiers and town inhabitants, by the 
 coming of the said honored Major and those with 
 him. In whose so soon coming to us the good 
 Providence of God did marvellously appear. For 
 the help that came to us by the honored Council's 
 order, after the tidings they received by our post sent 
 to them, came not to us till Saturday, August 7th, in 
 the afternoon, nor sooner could it well come in regard 
 of their distance from us, i.e., if we had not had help 
 before that time, we see not how we could have held 
 out, the number of the Indians so increasing, and they 
 making so many assaults upon us, that our ammunition 
 before that time would have been spent and ourselves 
 disenabled for any resistance, we being but few, and 
 always fain to stand upon our defence, that we had 
 little time for refreshment of ourselves either by food 
 or sleep. 
 
PETER FOLGER. 
 
 Peter Folger, whose name as a New England 
 poet is embalmed in Franklin's Autobiography, was 
 born in England, 1617, and died at Nantucket, Mas- 
 sachusetts, in 1690. He emigrated to New Eng- 
 land in 1635, and settled first in Watertown, then in 
 Martha's Vineyard, as teacher, surveyor, and assistant 
 to the Indian missionary, Thomas Mayhew. He 
 afterward became a Baptist, and moved in 1663 to 
 Nantucket, where he served as surveyor and inter- 
 preter, and for a time, as clerk of the courts. Cotton 
 Mather says that he was pious and learned. His chief 
 poem, A Looking Glass for the Times, or the Former 
 Spirit of New England Revived in this Generation 
 (1675), is described by Franklin as having been 
 "written with manly freedom and a pleasing simplic- 
 ity agreeably to the taste of the times and the coun- 
 try." The author addresses himself to the Governors 
 of the Colonies, speaks for liberty of conscience, 
 and in favor of the toleration of sects, among them 
 the Quakers and Anabaptists, who had suffered per- 
 secution. Folger was far from being a poet, but he 
 was a man of sound sense, and some of the stanzas 
 which we reproduce have not lost their point or their 
 application to-day. 
 
12 PETER FOLGER. 
 
 A DENUNCIATION OF WAR. 
 
 If that the peace of God did rule, 
 
 with power in our heart, 
 Then outward war would flee away, 
 
 and rest would be our part. 
 
 If we do love our brethren, 
 
 and do to them, I say, 
 As we would they should do to us, 
 
 we should be quiet straightway. 
 
 But if that we a smiting go, 
 
 of fellow-servants so, 
 No marvel if our wars increase 
 
 and things so heavy go. 
 
 'Tis like that some may think and say 
 our war would not remain, 
 
 If so be that a thousand more 
 of natives were but slain. 
 
 Alas ! these are but foolish thoughts, 
 God can make more arise, 
 
 And if that there were none at all, 
 he can make war with flies. 
 
 It is the presence of the Lord, 
 must make our foes to shake, 
 
 Or else it's like he will ere long 
 know how to make us quake. 
 
A DENUNCIATION OF WAR. 113 
 
 Let us lie low before the Lord, 
 
 in ail humility, 
 And then we shall with Asa see 
 
 our enemies to fly. 
 
 But if that we do leave the Lord, 
 
 and trust in fleshly arm, 
 Then 'tis no wonder if that we 
 
 do hear more news of harm. 
 
 Let's have our faith and hope in God, 
 
 and trust in him alone, 
 And then no doubt this storm of war 
 
 it quickly will be gone. 
 
 Thus, reader, I, in love to all, 
 
 leave these few lines with thee, 
 Hoping that in the substance we 
 
 shall very well agree. 
 
 If that you do mistake the verse 
 
 for its uncomely dress, 
 I tell thee true, I never thought 
 
 that it would pass the press. 
 
 If any at the matter kick, 
 
 it's like he's galled at heart, 
 And that's the reason why he kicks, 
 
 because he finds it smart. 
 
 I am for peace, and not for war, 
 
 and that's the reason why 
 I write more plain than some men do, 
 
 that use to daub and lie. 
 
114 PETER FOLGER. 
 
 But I shall cease and set my name 
 
 to what I here insert, 
 Because to be a libeller, 
 
 I hate it with my heart. 
 
 From Sherbon town, where now I dwell, 
 
 my name I do put here, 
 Without offence your real friend, 
 
 it is Peter Folger. 
 
WILLIAM PENN. 
 
 William Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania, in- 
 troduces us to a new centre of literary activity, Phila- 
 delphia, where the progress of education and culture, 
 though later in its beginning, was more rapid than in 
 New England. It was but a few years after its 
 foundation that it counted among its citizens men of 
 broad culture and of European reputation. Logan, 
 Bartram, Rittenhouse, and Godfrey do not belong 
 directly to our subject ; all the more then is it 
 fitting to pay tribute to him whose liberal mind 
 gave their genius scope in the infant colony. Penn 
 was born in London, 1644, and died in Ruscombe, 
 Berks, in 1 7 1 8. But though he began, ended, and 
 indeed passed a great part of his life in England, he 
 is identified almost entirely with America. The son 
 of an admiral, he was educated first in London, then 
 in Ireland, then at Oxford, where he became con- 
 spicuous as a follower of the Quaker Fox, and was 
 expelled from the University. He completed his 
 education in France, travelling, mingling in fashion- 
 able society, and then serving on his father's staff 
 till, in 1665, the London plague revived his religious 
 fervor. While managing the family estates in Ire- 
 land in 1667, he openly espoused Quakerism. Re- 
 called to England and estranged from his family, he 
 preached and wrote on religious subjects. Being 
 
 "5 
 
Il6 WILLIAM PENN. 
 
 harassed by the police and once imprisoned, he began 
 to take much interest in colonization, and having 
 inherited a large property, sent several shiploads of 
 immigrants to America, where he finally accepted a 
 patent of land in lieu of money, some eighty thou- 
 sand dollars, due from the Government to his father. 
 This was in 1 68 1 . In September, 1682, Penn 
 took formal possession of his new territory, pur- 
 chasing from the Swedes the site of Philadelphia, 
 negotiating honorable treaties with the Indians, pro- 
 viding his colonists a liberal scheme of govern- 
 ment, and leaving seven thousand of them behind on 
 his return to England in 1684. He again visited 
 America in 1699, and soon restored peace and order 
 to a colony much vexed by the results of the Revolu- 
 tion of 1688. He showed himself a wise reformer, 
 making new treaties with the Indians, and ameliorat- 
 ing the condition of the negroes. He returned to 
 England in 1701. His later years were troubled by 
 imprisonment, for conscience' sake, by the disgrace- 
 ful conduct of his son, by business misadventures, 
 and failing health. For the last six years of his life 
 he was a helpless invalid. The simple dignity of his 
 character, and the high ideals that he had for the 
 colony appear in the letters that follow. 
 
 LETTER TO RICHARD TURNER. 
 
 Dear Friend : My true love in the Lord salutes 
 thee and dear friends that love Lord's precious truths 
 in those parts. Thine I have, and for my business 
 here, know, that after many writings, watchings, 
 
TO THE INDIANS. 117 
 
 solicitings, and disputes in Council, this day my 
 country was confirmed to me under the great seal of 
 England, with large powers and privileges, by the 
 name of Pennsylvania : a name the King would give 
 it, in honor to my father. I chose New Wales, 
 being as this a pretty healthy country ; but Penn 
 being Welch for a head, as Penmanmore in Wales, 
 Penrith in Cumberland, and Penn in Buckingham- 
 shire, the highest land in England, called this Penn- 
 sylvania, which is the high or head wood land ; for 
 I proposed, when the Secretary a Welchman, re- 
 fused to have it called New Wales, Sylvania, and 
 they added Penn to it : and though I much opposed 
 it, and went to the King to have it struck out and 
 altered ; he said it was passed, and he would take 
 it upon him — nor could twenty guineas move the 
 under Secretary to vary the name ; for I feared, lest 
 it should be looked upon as a vanity in me, and not 
 as a respect to my father, who he often mentioned 
 with praise. Thou mayest communicate my grant 
 to Friends, and expect my proposals : it is a clear 
 and just thing ; and my God that has given it me, 
 through many difficulties, will, I believe, bless and 
 make it the seed of a nation. I shall have a tender 
 care to the government, that it be well laid at first. 
 No more now, but dear love in the truth. 
 
 W. Penn. 
 
 1st Month 5th. 1 68 1. 
 
1 8 WILLIAM PENN. 
 
 LETTER TO THE INDIANS. 
 
 My Friends, There is a Great God and Power, 
 that hath made the world and all things therein, to 
 whom you and I and all people owe their being and 
 well-being ; and to whom you and I must one day 
 give an account for all that we do in the world. This 
 Great God hath written his Law in our hearts, by 
 which we are taught and commanded to love and help, 
 and do good to one another, and not to do harm and 
 mischief unto one another. Now this Great God 
 hath been pleased to make me concerned in your part 
 of the world, and the king of the country where I 
 live hath given me a great province therein ; but I 
 desire to enjoy it with your love and consent, that we 
 may always live together as neighbors and friends ; 
 else what would the Great God do to us ? who 
 hath made us not to devour and destroy one another, 
 but to live soberly and kindly together in the world. 
 Now I would have you well observe that I am very 
 sensible of the unkindness and injustice that hath been 
 too much exercised towards you by the people of 
 these parts of the world, who have sought themselves, 
 and to make great advantages by you, rather than to 
 be examples of justice and goodness unto you, which 
 I hear hath been matter of trouble unto you, and 
 caused great grudgings and animosities, sometimes to 
 the shedding of blood, which hath made the Great 
 God angry. But I am not such a man, as is well 
 known in my own country. I have great love and 
 regard towards you, and I desire to win and gain 
 your love and friendship by a kind, just, and peace- 
 
TO GOVERNOR HINCKLEY. I 19 
 
 able life, and the people I send are of the same mind, 
 and shall in all things behave themselves accordingly ; 
 and if in any thing any shall offend you or your people, 
 you shall have a full and speedy satisfaction for the 
 same, by an equal number of just men on both sides, 
 that by no means you may have just occasion of being 
 offended against them. 
 
 I shall shortly come to you myself,. at what time 
 we may more largely and freely confer and discourse 
 of these matters ; in the mean time I have sent my 
 commissioners to treat with you about land, and a 
 firm league of peace. — Let me desire you to be kind 
 to them and the people, and receive these presents and 
 tokens which I have sent you, as a testimony of my 
 good-will to you, and my resolution to live justly, 
 peaceably, and friendly with you. 
 
 I am your loving friend, 
 
 W. Penn. 
 
 London, the 18th of the 8th month, 1681. 
 
 LETTER TO GOVERNOR HINCKLEY. 
 
 Respected Friend, The duty and decency of 
 my station as a Governour, as well as mine own 
 inclination, oblige me to begin and observe a kind 
 and friendly correspondence with persons in the like 
 capacity under the same imperial authority. This 
 single consideration is inducement enough to this 
 Salute, and I have no reason to doubt its acceptance, 
 because such an intercourse is recommended both by 
 the laws of Christianity and those of civil policy; 
 which said, Give me leave to wish thee and the people 
 
120 WILLIAM PENN. 
 
 under thy conduct all true felicity, and to assure thee 
 that with God's assistance I shall herein endeavour to 
 acquit and behave myself worthy of the title and 
 character of 
 
 Thy Real Friend 
 
 and Loving Neighbour, 
 
 Wm. Penn. 
 
 Philadelphia, the 2 of the ™° 1683. 
 
 I take the freedom to present thee with a book. 
 For my well-respected Friend 
 the Governour 
 
 of Plymouth Colony 
 
 New England. 
 
DANIEL DENTON. 
 
 Of Daniel Denton, the author of A Brief Descrip- 
 tion of New York, published in 1670, the first ac- 
 count in English of the city and colony that were to 
 become the metropolis oi' a hemisphere, little is known 
 save that he settled in Jamaica, Long Island, in 1656, 
 being one of the founders of that town, and a resi- 
 dent there for many years. He was obviously a close 
 and shrewd observer, but with little grace of style, 
 and somewhat devoid of a sense either of humor or 
 of irony as is shown by his remark about the Divine 
 Hand making a way for the English by removing 
 the Indians wherever they came to settle. Yet his 
 very matter of tact statements are hardly less interest- 
 ing for their inartistic uncouthness. 
 
 A TERRESTRIAL CANAAN. 
 
 [From «' A Brief Description of New York." 
 1670.] 
 
 New York is built most of brick and stone, and 
 covered with red and black tile, and the land being 
 high, it gives at a distance a pleasing aspect to the 
 spectators. The inhabitants consist most of English 
 and Dutch, and have a considerable trade with the 
 Indians, for beavers, otters, raccoon skins, with other 
 
122 DANIEL DENTON. 
 
 furs ; as also for bear, deer, and elk skins ; and are 
 supplied with venison and fowl in the winter and fish 
 in the summer by the Indians, which they buy at an 
 easy rate ; and having the country round about them, 
 they are continually furnished with all such provisions 
 as is needful for the life of man, not only by the Eng- 
 lish and Dutch within their own, but likewise by the 
 adjacent Colonies. 
 
 The commodities vented from thence is furs and 
 skins before-mentioned ; as likewise tobacco made 
 within the Colony, as good as is usually made in 
 Mary-land ; also horses, beef, pork, oil, pease, wheat, 
 and the like. 
 
 Long Island, the west end of which lies southward 
 of New York, runs eastward above one hundred miles, 
 and is in some places eight, in some twelve, in some 
 fourteen miles broad. It is inhabited from one end 
 to the other. On the west end is four or five Dutch 
 towns, the rest being all English, to the number of 
 twelve, besides villages and farm-houses. The Isl- 
 and is most of it of a very good soil, and very natu- 
 ral for all sorts of English grain, which they sow and 
 have very good increase of, besides all other fruits and 
 herbs common in England; as also tobacco, hemp, 
 flax, pumpkins, melons, etc. 
 
 For wild beasts, there is deer, bear, wolves, foxes, 
 raccoons, otters, musquashes, and skunks. Wild fowl 
 there is great store of, as turkeys, heath-hens, quails, 
 partridges, pigeons, cranes, geese of several sorts, 
 brants, ducks, widgeon, teal, and divers others. 
 There is also the red-bird, with divers sorts of sing- 
 ing-birds, whose chirping notes salute the ears of trav- 
 ellers with an harmonious discord ; and in every pond 
 
DESCRIPTION OF NEW YORK. 1 23 
 
 and brook green silken frogs, who, warbling forth their 
 untuned tunes, strive to bear a part in this music. 
 
 Towards the middle of Long Island lieth a plain 
 sixteen miles long and four broad, upon which plain 
 grows very fine grass, that makes exceeding good hay, 
 and is very good pasture for sheep or other cattle ; 
 where you shall find neither stick nor stone to hinder 
 the horse heels, or endanger them in their races ; and 
 once a year the best horses in the Island are brought 
 hither to try their swiftness, and the swiftest rewarded 
 with a silver cup, two being annually procured for that 
 purpose. There are two or three other small plains 
 of about a mile square, which are no small benefit to 
 those towns which enjoy them. 
 
 Upon the south side of Long Island in the winter lie 
 store of whales and crampasses, which the inhabitants 
 begin with small boats to make a trade, catching to 
 their no small benefit. Also an innumerable multi- 
 tude of seals, which make an excellent oil. They lie 
 all the winter upon some broken marshes and beaches, or 
 bars of sand before-mentioned, and might be easily got 
 were there some skilful men would undertake it. . . . 
 
 Within two leagues of New York lieth Staten Isl- 
 and. It bears from New York west something south- 
 erly. It is about twenty miles long, and four or five 
 broad. It is most of it very good land, full of timber, 
 and produceth all such commodities as Long Island 
 doth, besides tin and store of iron ore ; and the cala- 
 mine stone is said likewise to be found there. There 
 is but one town upon it, consisting of English and 
 French, but is capable of entertaining more inhabi- 
 tants ; betwixt this and Long Island is a large bay, 
 and is the coming in for all ships and vessels out of 
 
124 DANIEL DENTON. 
 
 the sea. On the north side of this Island Afterskull 
 River puts into the main-land on the west side, whereof 
 is two or three towns, but on the east side but one. 
 There is very great marshes or meadows on both 
 sides of it, excellent good land, and good convenience 
 for the settling of several towns ; there grows black 
 walnut and locust, as there doth in Virginia, with 
 mighty tall, straight timber, as good as any in the 
 North of America. It produceth any commodity 
 Long Island doth. . . . 
 
 To give some satisfaction to people that shall be 
 desirous to transport themselves thither (the country 
 being capable of entertaining many thousands), how 
 and after what manner people live, and how land may 
 be procured, etc., — I shall answer, that the usual 
 way is for a company of people to join together, either 
 enough to make a town, or a lesser number ; these go 
 with the consent of the governor, and view a tract of 
 land, there being choice enough, and finding a place 
 convenient for a town, they return to the governor, 
 who upon their desire admits them into the Colony, 
 and gives them a grant or patent for the said land, for 
 themselves and associates. These persons being thus 
 qualified, settle the place, and take in what inhabitants 
 to themselves they shall see cause to admit of, till their 
 town be full ; these associates thus taken in have equal 
 privileges with themselves, and they make a division 
 of the land suitable to every man's occasions, no man 
 being debarred of such quantities as he hath occasion 
 for ; the rest they let lie in common till they have 
 occasion for a new division, never dividing their 
 pasture-land at all, which lies in common to the 
 whole town. The best commodities for any to 
 
DESCRIPTION OF NEW YORK. 1 25 
 
 carry with them is clothing, the country being full 
 of all sorts of cattle, which they may furnish them- 
 selves withal at an easy rate, for any sorts of English 
 goods, as likewise instruments for husbandry and build- 
 ing, with nails, hinges, glass, and the like. For the 
 manner how they get a livelihood, it is principally by 
 corn and cattle, which will there fetch them any 
 commodities ; likewise they sow store of flax, which 
 they make every one cloth of for their own wearing, 
 as also woolen cloth and linsey-woolsey, and had they 
 more tradesmen amongst them, they would in a little 
 time live without the help of any other country for 
 their clothing. For tradesmen, there is none but 
 live happily there, as carpenters, blacksmiths, masons, 
 tailors, weavers, shoemakers, tanners, brickmakers, 
 and so any other trade ; them that have no trade 
 betake themselves to husbandry, get land of their 
 own, and live exceeding well. 
 
 Thus have I briefly given you a relation of New 
 York, with the places thereunto adjoyning ; ,in which, 
 if I have erred, it is principally in not giving it its 
 due commendation ; for besides those earthly blessings 
 where it is stored, heaven hath not been wanting to 
 open his treasure, in sending down seasonable showers 
 upon the earth, blessing it with a sweet and pleasant 
 air, and a continuation of such influences as tend to 
 the health both of man and beast : and the climate 
 hath such an affinity with that of England that it 
 breeds ordinarily no alteration to those which remove 
 thither ; that the name of seasoning, which is com- 
 mon to some other countries, hath never there been 
 known ; that I may say, and say truly, that if there 
 be any terrestrial happiness to be had by people of all 
 
/26 DANIEL DENTON. 
 
 ranks, especially of an inferior rank, it must certainly 
 be here. Here any one may furnish himself with 
 land, and live rent-free — yea, with such a quantity 
 of land that he may weary himself with walking over 
 his fields of corn and all sorts of grain. And let his 
 stock of cattle amount to some hundreds, he needs not 
 fear their want of pasture in the summer or fodder in 
 the winter, the woods affording sufficient supply. For 
 the summer season, where you have grass as high as a 
 man's knees, — nay, as high as his waist, — interlaced 
 with pea-vines and other weeds that cattle much delight 
 in, as much as a man can press through ; and these 
 woods also every mile or half mile are furnished with 
 fresh ponds, brooks or rivers, where all sorts of cattle, 
 during the heat of the day, do quench their thirst and 
 cool themselves ; these brooks and rivers being envi- 
 roned of each side with several sorts of trees and grape- 
 vines, the vines, arbor-like, interchanging places and 
 crossing these rivers, does shade and shelter them from 
 the scorching beams of Sol's fiery influence. Here 
 those which Fortune hath frowned upon in England, 
 to deny them an inheritance amongst their brethren, 
 or such as by their utmost labors can scarcely procure 
 a living — I say such may procure here inheritances 
 of lands and possessions, stock themselves with all 
 sorts of cattle, enjoy the benefit of them whilst they 
 live, and leave them to the benefit of their children 
 when they die. Here you need not trouble the 
 shambles for meat, nor bakers and brewers for beer 
 and bread, nor run to a linen-draper for a supply, 
 every one making their own linen and a great part 
 of their woolen cloth for their ordinary wearing. 
 And how prodigal, if I may so say, hath Nature 
 
DESCRIPTION OF NEW YORK. 1 27 
 
 been to furnish the country with all sorts of wild 
 beasts and fowl ! which every one hath an interest 
 in, and may hunt at his pleasure ; where, besides 
 the pleasure in hunting, he may furnish his house 
 with excellent fat venison, turkeys, geese, heath- 
 hens, cranes, swans, ducks, pigeons, and the like, 
 
 — and wearied with that, he may go a-fishing ; 
 where the rivers are so furnished, that he may supply 
 himself with fish before he can leave off" the recreation : 
 
 — where you may travel by land upon the same con- 
 tinent hundreds of miles, and pass through towns and 
 villages, and never hear the least complaint for want, 
 nor hear any ask you for a farthing ; where you may 
 lodge in the fields and woods, travel from one end of 
 the country to another, with as much security as if 
 you were locked within your own chamber ; and if 
 you chance to meet with an Indian town, they shall 
 give you the best entertainment they have, and, upon 
 your desire, direct you on your way. But that which 
 adds happiness to all the rest, is the healthfulness of 
 the place ; where many people in twenty years' time 
 never know what sickness is ; where they look upon 
 it as a great mortality if two or three die out of a town 
 in a year's time ; where, besides the sweetness of the 
 air, the country itself sends forth such a fragrant smell 
 that it may be perceived at sea before they can make 
 the land ; where no evil fog or vapor doth no sooner 
 appear but a north-west or westerly wind doth imme- 
 diately dissolve it and drive it away. What shall I 
 say more ? You shall scarce see a house but the 
 south side is begirt with hives of bees, which increase 
 after an incredible manner : — That I must needs say, 
 that if there be any terrestrial Canaan, 't is surely here, 
 
128 DANIEL DENTON. 
 
 where the land floweth with milk and honey. The 
 inhabitants are blest with peace and plenty, blessed in 
 their country, blessed in their fields, blessed in the 
 fruit of their bodies, in the fruit of their grounds, in 
 the increase of their cattle, horses, and sheep, blessed in 
 their basket, and in their store. In a word, blessed 
 in whatsoever they take in hand or go about, the earth 
 yielding plentiful increase to all their painful labors. 
 
GEORGE ALSOP 
 
 George Alsop, the only literary representative of 
 Maryland, included within this volume, was born in 
 London, in 1638, and had been apparently an appren- 
 tice there before he emigrated to the colonies as an 
 indentured servant in 1658. Little is known of 
 his life, but it may be inferred that he was a pro- 
 nounced opponent of Cromwell, for some rugged 
 verses, scattered through his book are devoted to exe- 
 cration of the Lord Protector. Other outbursts of 
 his " melancholy Muse" are of a jovial, ribald, and 
 even occasionally obscene character, almost unique in 
 colonial writings. But regrettable as this may be, 
 Alsop's book is as entertaining as anything that sev- 
 enteenth century America produced. It bears the 
 quaint and somewhat cumbrous title A Character 
 of the Province of Maryland, also a Small Treatise 
 on the Wild and Naked Indians or Susquehanokes of 
 Maryland, their Customs, Manners, Absurdities, 
 and Religion. It is dated 1666, and has been twice 
 republished ( 1 869, 1880). He describes the Arca- 
 dian liberty and virtue of the province sympatheti- 
 cally, the Susquehanna Indians entertainingly, and his 
 experiences during servitude graphically. His letters 
 to his re\atives in which his experiences are narrated 
 are not models of epistolary style, but they are full 
 of life, and by no means devoid of humor. 
 129 
 
130 GEORGE ALSOP. 
 
 MARYLAND FISH. 
 
 [From " A Character of the Province of Mary- 
 land/' London, 1666, Chap. I.] 
 
 As for fish which dwell in the watery tenements 
 of the deep, and by a providential greatness of power, 
 is kept for the relief of several countries in the world 
 (which would else sink under the rigid enemy of 
 want), here in Mary-land is a large sufficiency, and 
 plenty of almost all sorts of fishes, which live and 
 inhabit within her several rivers and creeks, far beyond 
 the apprehending or crediting of those that never saw 
 the same, and, which with very much ease is catched, 
 to the great refreshment of the inhabitants of the 
 province. 
 
 -OF THE GOVERNMENT AND NATU- 
 RAL DISPOSITION OF THE PEOPLE." 
 
 [From the Same, Chap. II.] 
 
 Maryland, not from the remoteness of her situa- 
 tion, but from the regularity of her well-ordered gov- 
 ernment, may (without sin, I think) be called singu- 
 lar : And though she is not supported with such 
 large revenues as some of her neighbors are, yet such 
 is her wisdom in a reserved silence, and not in pomp, 
 to shew her well-conditioned estate, in relieving at a 
 distance the proud poverty of those that wont be seen 
 they want, as well as those which by undeniable ne- 
 
GOVERNMENT AND PEOPLE. 131 
 
 cessities are drove upon the rocks of pinching wants : 
 Yet such a loathsome creature is a common and fold- 
 ing-handed beggar, that upon the penalty of almost 
 a perpetual working in imprisonment, they are not to 
 appear, nor lurk near our vigilant and laborious dwell- 
 ings. The country hath received a general spleen 
 and antipathy against the very name and nature of it ; 
 and though there were no law provided, (as there is) 
 to suppress it, I am certainly confident, there is none 
 within the Province that would lower themselves so 
 much below the dignity of men to beg, as long as 
 limbs and life keep house together ; so much is a vigi- 
 lant industrious care esteem' d. 
 
 He that desires to see the real platform of a quiet 
 and sober government extant, superiority with a meek 
 and yet commanding power sitting at the helm, steer- 
 ing the actions of a state quietly, through the multi- 
 tude and diversity of opinionous waves that diversly 
 meet; let him look on Mary-Land with eyes admiring, 
 and he'le then judge her, The Miracle of this Age. 
 
 Here the Roman Catholic, and the Protestant Epis- 
 copal, (whom the world would persuade have pro- 
 claimed open wars irrevocably against each other) 
 contrary wise concur in an unanimous parallel of friend- 
 ship, and inseparable love entailed unto one another : 
 All inquisitions, martyrdom, and banishments are not 
 so much as named, but unexpressibly abhorr'd by 
 each other. 
 
 The several opinions and sects that lodge within 
 this government, meet not together in mutinous con- 
 tempts to disquiet the "power that bears rule, but with 
 a reverend quietness obeys the legal commands of 
 authority. Here's never seen Five Monarchies in a 
 
132 GEORGE ALSOP. 
 
 zealous rebellion, opposing the rights and liberties of 
 a true settled government, or monarchical authority : 
 Nor did I ever see (here in Mary-Land) any of those 
 dancing Adamitical Sisters that plead a primitive inno- 
 cency for their base obscenity and naked deportment ; 
 but I conceive if some of them were there at some 
 certain time of the year, between the months of Jan- 
 uary and February, when the winds blow from the 
 north-west quarter of the world, that it would both 
 cool, and (I believe) convert the hottest of these 
 Zealots. . . . 
 
 And I really believe this land or government of 
 Mary-Land may boast, that she enjoys as much 
 quietness from disturbance of rebellious opinions, as 
 most states or kingdoms do in the world : For here 
 every man lives quietly, and follows his labor and 
 employment desiredly ; and by the protection of the 
 laws, they are supported from those molestious 
 troubles that ever attend upon the commons of other 
 states and kingdoms, as well as from the aquafortial 
 operation of great and eating taxes. Here's nothing 
 to be levied out of the granaries of corn ; but contrary- 
 wise, by a law every domestic governor of a family 
 is enjoined to make or cause to be made so much corn 
 by a just limitation, as shall be sufficient for him and 
 his family : So that by this wise and Fanus-Wke prov- 
 idence, the thin jawed skeleton with his starv'd car- 
 cass is never seen walking the woods of Mary-Land 
 to afTrighten children. 
 
 Once every year within this province is an assem- 
 bly called, and out of every respective county (by the 
 consent of the people) there is chosen a number of 
 men, and to them is deliver' d up the grievances of 
 
GOVERNMENT AND PEOPLE. 1 33 
 
 the country ; and they maturely debate the matters, 
 and according to their consciences make laws for the 
 general good of the people ; and where any former 
 law that was made, seems and is prejudicial to the 
 good or quietness of the land, it is repeal'd. These 
 men that determine on these matters for the Repub- 
 lique, are called Burgesses, and they commonly sit in 
 junto about six weeks, being for the most part good 
 ordinary householders of the several counties, which 
 do more by a plain and honest conscience, then by 
 artificial syllogisms drest up in gilded orations. 
 
 Here suits and trials in law seldom hold dispute 
 two terms or courts, but according as the equity of 
 the cause appears is brought to a period, the Temples 
 and Grays- Inn are clear out of fashion here : Marriot 
 would sooner get a paunch-devouring meal for nothing, 
 then for his invading counsel. Here if the Lawyer 
 had nothing else to maintain him but his bawling, he 
 might button up his chops, and burn his buckram bag, 
 or else hang it upon a pin until its antiquity had eaten 
 it up with dirt and dust : Then with a spade, like his 
 grandsire Adam, turn up the face of creation, purchas- 
 ing his bread by the sweat of his brows, that before 
 was got by the motionated water-works of his jaws. 
 So contrary to the genius of the people, if not to the 
 quiet government of the Province, that the turbulent 
 spirit of continued and vexatious law, with all its 
 quirks and evasions, is .openly and most eagerly 
 opposed, that might make matters either dubious, 
 tedious, or troublesome. All other matters that 
 would be ranging in contrary and improper spheres, 
 (in short) are here by the power moderated, lower'd, 
 and subdued. All villainous outrages that are com- 
 
134 GEORGE ALSOP. 
 
 mitted in other states, are not so much as known 
 here : A man may walk in the open woods as secure 
 from being externally dissected, as in his own house 
 or dwelling. So hateful is a robber, that if but 
 once imagin'd to be so, he's kept at a distance, and 
 shun'd as the pestilential noisomeness. 
 
 It is generally and very remarkably observed, That 
 those whose lives and conversations have had no other 
 gloss nor glory stampt on them in their own country, 
 but the stigmatization of baseness, were here (by the 
 common civilities and deportments of the inhabitants 
 of this Province) brought to detest and loath their 
 former actions. Here the constable hath no need of 
 a train of Holberteers [Halberdeers] , that carry more 
 armor about them, then heart to guard him : Nor is he 
 ever troubled to leave his feathered nest to some friendly 
 successor, while he is placing of his lanthern-horn 
 guard at the end of some suspicious street. . . . 
 Here's no Nevvgates for pilfering felons, nor Lud- 
 gates for debtors, nor any Bridewells to lash the soul 
 of concupiscence into a chaste repentance. For 
 as there is none of these prisons in Mary-Land, so 
 the merits of the country deserves none, but if any 
 be foully virtuous, he is so reserv'd in it, that he 
 seldom or never becomes popular. Common ale- 
 houses, (whose dwellings are the only receptacles 
 of debauchery and baseness, and those schools that 
 trains up youth, as well as age to ruin) in this 
 Province there are none ; neither hath youth his 
 swing or range in such a profuse and unbridled liberty 
 as in other countries ; for from an ancient custom at 
 the primitive seating of the place, the son works as 
 well as the servant, (an excellent cure for untam'd 
 
GOVERNMENT AND PEOPLE. 1 35 
 
 youth) so that before they eat their bread, they are 
 commonly taught how to earn it ; which makes them 
 by that time age speaks them capable of receiving that 
 which their parents' indulgency is ready to give them, 
 and which partly is by their own laborious industry 
 purchased, they manage it with such a serious, grave, 
 and watching care, as if they had been masters of 
 families, trained up in that domestic and governing 
 power from their cradles. These christian natives of 
 the land, especially those of the masculine sex, are gen- 
 erally conveniently confident, reservedly subtle, quick 
 in apprehending, but slow in resolving ; and where 
 they spy profit sailing towards them with the wings 
 of a prosperous gale, there they become much familiar. 
 The women differ something in this point, though not 
 much : They are extreme bashful at the first view, but 
 after a continuance of time hath brought them ac- 
 quainted, there they become discreetly familiar, and 
 are much more talkative than men. All complemental 
 courtships, drest up in critical rarities, are mere 
 strangers to them, plain wit comes nearest their 
 genius ; so that he that intends to court a Mary-Land 
 girl, must have something more than the tautologies 
 of a long-winded speech to carry on his design, or 
 else he may (for aught I know) fall under the con- 
 tempt of her frown, and his own windy oration. 
 
 One great part of the inhabitants of this Province 
 are desiredly zealous, great pretenders to holiness ; 
 and where any thing appears that carries on the 
 frontispiece of its effigies the stamp of religion, though 
 fundamentally never so imperfect, they are suddenly 
 taken with it, and out of an eager desire to any thing 
 that's new, not weighing the sure matter in the 
 
136 GEORGE ALSOP. 
 
 balance of reason, are very apt to be catcht. 
 Quakerism is the only opinion that bears the bell 
 away : The Anabaptists have little to say here, as 
 well as in other places, since the Ghost of John of 
 Leyden haunts their Conventicles. The Adamite, 
 Ranter, and Fifth- Monarchy men, Mary-Land can- 
 not, nay will not digest within her liberal stomach 
 such corroding morsels : So that this Province is an 
 utter enemy to blasphemous and zealous imprecations, 
 drain' d from the limbec of hellish and damnable 
 spirits, as well as profuse prophaneness, that issues 
 from the prodigality of none but crackt-brain Scots. 
 
 'Tis said the Gods lower down that chain above 
 That ties both prince and subject up in love j 
 And if this fiction of the gods be true, 
 Few, MARY-LAND, in this can boast but you : 
 Live ever blest, and let those clouds that do 
 Eclipse most states, be always lights to you $ 
 And dwelling so, you may for ever be 
 The only Emblem of tranquility. 
 
 "A RELATION OF THE CUSTOMS, MAN- 
 NERS, ABSURDITIES, AND RELIGION 
 OF THE SUSQUEHANOCK INDIANS IN 
 AND NEAR MARYLAND." 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 The Indians paint upon their faces one stroke of 
 red, another of green, another of white, and another 
 of black, so that when they have accomplished the 
 equipage of their countenance in this trim, they are 
 the only Hieroglyphics and Representatives of the 
 
THE SUSQUEHANOCK INDIANS. 1 37 
 
 Furies. Their skins are naturally white, but altered 
 from their originals by the several dyeings of roots 
 and barks, that they prepare and make useful to meta- 
 morphize their hides into a dark cinnamon brown. 
 The hair of their head is black, long and harsh, but 
 where Nature hath appointed the situation of it any- 
 where else, they divert it (by an ancient custom) from 
 its growth, by pulling it up hair by hair by the root 
 in its primitive appearance. Several of them wear 
 divers impressions on their breasts and arms, as the pic- 
 ture of the Devil, bears, tigers, and panthers, which 
 are imprinted on their several lineaments with much 
 difficulty and pain, with an irrevocable determination 
 of its abiding there : and this they count a badge of 
 heroic valor, and the only ornament due to their 
 heroes. 
 
 These Susquehanock Indians are for the most part 
 great warriors, and seldom sleep one summer in the 
 quiet arms of a peaceable rest, but keep (by their pres- 
 ent power, as well as by their former conquest) the 
 several Nations of Indians round about them in a 
 forcible obedience and subjection. 
 
 When they determine to go upon some design that 
 will and doth require a consideration, some six of 
 them get into a corner, and sit in Junto ; and if 
 thought fit, their business is made popular, and imme- 
 diately put into action ; if not, they make a full stop 
 to it, and are silently reserved. 
 
 The warlike equipage they put themselves in when 
 they prepare for Belona's march, is with their faces, 
 arms, and breasts confusedly painted, their hair greased 
 with bears' oil, and stuck thick with swans' feathers, 
 with a wreath or diadem of black and white beads 
 
138 GEORGE ALSOP. 
 
 upon their heads, a small hatchet, instead of a cimeter, 
 stuck in their girts behind them, and either with guns, 
 or bows and arrows. In this posture and dress they 
 march out from their fort, or dwelling, to the number 
 of forty in a troop, sirtging (or rather howling out) 
 the decades or warlike exploits of their ancestors, 
 ranging the wild woods until their fury has met with 
 an enemy worthy of their revenge. What prisoners 
 fall into their hands by the destiny of war, they treat 
 them very civilly while they remain with them abroad, 
 but when they once return homewards, they then 
 begin to dress them in the habit for death, putting on 
 their heads and arms wreaths of beads, greasing their 
 hair with fat, some going before, and the rest behind, 
 at equal distance from their prisoners, bellowing in a 
 strange and confused manner, which is a true presage 
 and forerunner of destruction to their then conquered 
 enemy. 
 
 As for their religion, together with their rites and 
 ceremonies, they are so absurd and ridiculous, that it's 
 almost a sin to name them. They own no other 
 deity than the Devil (solid or profound), but with a 
 kind of a wild imaginary conjecture, they suppose 
 from their groundless conceits, that the world had a 
 Maker, but where he is that made it, or whether he 
 be living to this day, they know not. The Devil, 
 as 1 said before, is all the God they own or worship ; 
 and that more out of a slavish fear than any real rev- 
 erence to his infernal or diabolical greatness, he forc- 
 ing them to their obedience by his rough and rigid 
 dealing with them, often appearing visibly among them 
 to their terror, bastinadoing them (with cruel men- 
 aces) even unto death, and burning their fields of corn 
 
THE SUSQUEHANOCK INDIANS. 1 39 
 
 and houses, that the relation thereof makes them trem- 
 ble themselves when they tell it. 
 
 Once in four years they sacrifice a child to him, in 
 an acknowledgment of their firm obedience to all his 
 devilish powers, and hellish commands. The priests, 
 to whom they apply themselves in matters of impor- 
 tance and greatest distress, are like those that attended 
 upon the Oracle at Delphos, who by their magic 
 spells could command a pro or con from the Devil 
 when they pleased. These Indians ofttimes raise 
 great tempests when they have any weighty matter 
 or design in hand, and by blustering storms inquire 
 of their infernal god (the Devil) how matters shall 
 go with them either in public or private. 
 
 When any among them depart this life, they give 
 him no other entombment than to set him upright 
 upon his breech in a hole dug in the earth some five 
 foot long, and three foot deep, covered over with the 
 bark of trees archwise, with his face due west, only 
 leaving a hole half a foot square open. They dress 
 him in the same equipage and gallantry that he used 
 to be trimmed in when he was alive, and so bury 
 him (if a soldier) with his bows, arrows, and target, 
 together with all the rest of his implements and weap- 
 ons of war, with a kettle of broth, and corn standing 
 before him, lest he should meet with bad quarters in 
 his way. His kindred and relations follow him to 
 the grave, sheathed in bear-skins for close mourning, 
 with the tail droiling on the ground, in imitation oi 
 our English solemners, that think there's nothing like 
 a tail a degree in length, to follow the dead corpse to 
 the grave with. 
 
140 GEORGE ALSOP. 
 
 To my Father at his House. 
 
 Sir : — After my obedience (at so great and vast 
 a distance) has humbly saluted you and my good 
 mother, with the cordialest of my prayers, wishes, 
 and desires to wait upon you, with the very best of 
 their effectual devotion, wishing from the very centre 
 of my soul your flourishing and well-being here upon 
 earth, and your glorious and everlasting happiness in 
 the world to come. 
 
 These lines (my dear parents) come from that son 
 which by an irregular fate was removed from his 
 native home, and after a five months dangerous pas^- 
 sage, was landed on the remote continent of America, 
 in the province of Mary -Land, where now by provi- 
 dence I reside. To give you the particulars of the 
 several accidents that happened in our voyage by sea, 
 it would swell a journal of some sheets, and there- 
 fore too large and tedious for a letter : I think it 
 therefore necessary to bind up the relation in octavo, 
 and give it you in short. 
 
 We had a blowing and dangerous passage of it, 
 and for some days after I arrived I was an absolute 
 Copernicus, it being one main point of my moral 
 creed to believe the world had a pair of long legs, and 
 walked with the burthen of the creation upon her back. 
 For to tell you the very truth of it, for some days upon 
 land, after so long and tossing a passage, I was so giddy 
 that 1 could hardly tread an even step : so that all 
 things both above and below (that was in view) 
 appeared to me like the Kentish Britains to William 
 the Conqueror, in a moving posture. 
 
 These few number of weeks since my arrival, has 
 
LETTERS, 141 
 
 given me but little experience to write anything large 
 of the country ; only thus much I can say, and that 
 not from any imaginary conjectures, but from an oc- 
 ular observation, that this country of Mary-Land 
 abounds in a flourishing variety of delightful woods, 
 pleasant groves, lovely springs, together with spacious 
 navigable rivers and creeks, it being a most healthful 
 and pleasant situation, so far as my knowledge has yet 
 had any view in it. 
 
 Herds of deer are as numerous in this Province of 
 Mary-Land, as cuckolds can be in London, only their 
 horns are not so well dressed and tipped with silver as 
 theirs are. 
 
 Here if the devil had such a vagary in his head as 
 he once had among the Gadareans, he might drown 
 a thousand head of hogs and they'd ne're be missed, 
 for the very woods of this Province swams with them. 
 
 The Christian inhabitant of this Province, as to 
 the general, lives wonderfully well and contented : the 
 government of this Province is by the loyalness of 
 the people, and loving demeanor of the Proprietor 
 and Governor of the same, kept in a continued peace 
 and unity. 
 
 The servant of this Province, which are stigmatized 
 for slaves by the clappermouth jaws of the vulgar in 
 England, live more like freemen than the most me- 
 chanic apprentices in London, wanting for nothing 
 that is convenient and necessary, and according to their 
 several capacities, are extraordinary well used and 
 respected. So leaving things here as I found them, 
 and lest I should commit sacrilege upon your more 
 serious meditations, with the tautologies of a long- 
 winded letter, Pie subscribe with a heavenly ejacula- 
 
142 GEORGE ALSOP. 
 
 tion to the God of mercy to preserve you now and 
 for evermore, Amen. 
 
 Your obedient son, 
 
 G. A. 
 
 From Mary-Land, Jan. 17, Anno. 
 
 To My Much Honored Friend Mr. M. F. 
 
 Sir : — You writ to me when I was at Gravesend. 
 (but I had no conveniency to send you an answer 
 till now) enjoining me, if possible, to give you a just 
 information by my diligent observance, what thing 
 were best and most profitable to send into this country 
 for a commodious trafic. 
 
 Sir, the enclosed will demonstrate unto you both 
 particularly and at large, to the full satisfaction of your 
 desire, it being an invoice drawn as exact to the busi- 
 ness you employed me upon, as my weak capacity 
 could extend to. 
 
 Sir, if you send any adventure to this Province, let 
 me beg to give you this advice in it ; that the factor 
 whom you employ be a man of brain, otherwise the 
 planter will go near to make a skimming-dish of his 
 skull : I know your genius can interpret my mean- 
 ing. The people of this place (whether the saltness 
 of the ocean gave them any alteration when they went 
 over first, or their continual dwelling under the remote 
 clime where they now inhabit, I know not) are a 
 more acute people in general, in matters of trade and 
 commerce, than in any other place of the world, ai d 
 by their crafty and sure bargaining, do often over- 
 reach the raw and unexperienced merchant. To be 
 
LETTERS. 143 
 
 short, he that undertakes merchant's employment for 
 Mary-Land, must have more of knave in him than 
 fool : he must not be a windling piece of formality, 
 that will lose his employer's goods for conscience 
 sake ; nor a flashy piece of prodigality, that will give 
 his merchants fine hollands, laces, and silks, to pur- 
 chase the benevolence of a female : but he must be a 
 man of solid confidence, carrying always in his looks 
 the effigies of an execution upon command, if he 
 supposes a baffle or denial of payment, where a debt 
 for his employer is legally due. 
 
 Sir, I had like almost to forgot to tell you in what 
 part of the world I am : I dwell by providence ser- 
 vant to Mr. Thomas Stocket, in the County of Balti- 
 more, within the Province of Mary-Land, under the 
 Government of the Lord Baltimore, being a country 
 abounding with the variety and diversity of all that is 
 or may be rare. But lest I should tantalize you with 
 a relation of that which is very unlikely of your en- 
 joying, by reason of that strong antipathy you have 
 ever had 'gainst travel, as to your own particular : 
 Pie only tell you, that Mary-Land is seated within 
 the large extending arms of America, between the 
 degrees of 36 and 38, being in longitude from Eng- 
 land eleven hundred and odd leagues. 
 
 Vale. 
 
 G. A. 
 
 From Mary-Land, Jan. 17, Anno. 
 
144 GEORGE ALSOP. 
 
 To My Cousin Mrs. Ellinor Evins. 
 
 E're I forget the zenith of your love, 
 
 Let me be banished from the thrones above ; 
 
 Light let me never see, when I grow rude, 
 
 Thtomb your love in base ingratitude : 
 
 Nor may I prosper, but the state 
 
 Of gaping Tantalus be my fate 5 
 
 .Rather than I should thus preposterous grow, 
 
 .Earth would condemn me to her vaults below. 
 
 Virtuous and noble, could my genius raise 
 
 /mmortal anthems to your vestal praise, 
 
 iVbne should be more laborious than I, 
 
 .Saint-like to canonize you to the sky. 
 
 The antimonial cup (dear cousin) you sent me, I 
 had ; and as soon as I received it, I went to work 
 with the infirmities and diseases of my body. At the 
 first draught, it made such havoc among the several 
 humors that had stolen into my body, that like a con- 
 jurer in a room among a company of little devils, they 
 no sooner hear him begin to speak high words, but 
 away they pack, and happy is he that can get out 
 first, some up the chimney, and the rest down stairs, 
 till they are all dispersed. So those malignant humors 
 of my body, feeling the operative power, and medici- 
 nal virtue of this cup, were so amazed at their sudden 
 surprisal, (being always before battered only by the 
 weak as a alts of some few empyrics) they stood not 
 long to dispute, but with joint consent made their 
 retreat, . . . 
 
 Cousin, for this great kindness of yours, in send- 
 ing me this medicinal virtue, I return you my thanks : 
 it came in a very good time, when I was dangerously 
 
LETTERS. 145 
 
 sick, and by the assistance of God, it hath perfectly 
 recovered me. 
 
 I have sent you here a few furs, they were all I could 
 get at present, I humbly beg your acceptance of them, 
 as a pledge of my love and thankfulness unto you ; 
 I subscribe, 
 
 Your loving cousin, 
 
 G. A. 
 
 From Mary-Land, Dec. 9, Anno. 
 
146 BACON'S REBELLION. 
 
 NARRATIVES DEALING WITH BACON'S 
 REBELLION. 
 
 No event in the Southern Colonies, before the 
 Revolution, stimulated greater literary activity, or 
 was more characteristic of the independent temper 
 bred in Englishmen by their new surroundings than 
 the popular uprising in 1676 known as " Bacon's 
 Rebellion," just one hundred years before not dis- 
 similar causes brought about the general Colonial 
 Declaration of Independence. During the English 
 Protectorate, Governor Berkeley, who had taken 
 the Royal side, had been forced to resign his author- 
 ity in 1651. He was reinstated at the Restoration, 
 in 1660, and surpassed his royal master in persecution, 
 especially of the Baptists and Quakers, and in taxation, 
 from which the large personal estates were exempted. 
 He abolished also the biennial election of Burgesses. 
 This led to popular discontent, intensified by the con- 
 duct of the king, who treated Virginia as his personal 
 property, making large grants to Court favorites, and 
 countenancing laws that produced great uncertainty 
 and distress among the planters. The Assembly, 
 assuming to be a perpetual body, sought to make 
 itself independent of Colonial legislation by a per- 
 manent impost on imported tobacco. Vain protests 
 were made to the king against the invasion of popular 
 liberties, and legislation, which reduced the price of 
 tobacco to Colonial currency and burdened trade by 
 Parliamentary restraints. This, added to the corrup- 
 tion, tyranny, and inefficiency of Governor Berkeley, 
 
BACON'S REBELLION. 147 
 
 who seemed unable or unwilling to accord the Colon- 
 ists adequate protection from Indian massacres and 
 raids, produced a growing discontent that needed 
 only the presence of a sturdy leader to burst into 
 overt rebellion. Such a leader the Colonists found 
 in Nathaniel Bacon, a young man of wealth and the 
 best English training, who in defiance of the Governor 
 took the field against the Indians and was enthusiasti- 
 cally supported by the mass of the people and the smaller 
 planters. This was in April, 1676. The same 
 month Charles II, in response to Colonial protest 
 ordered the preparation of a liberal charter. In 
 May, Berkeley proclaimed Bacon a traitor. In 
 June, however, the assembly enacted the so-called 
 '« Bacon Laws" a series of Reform measures, and 
 that leader was appointed Commander in Chief 
 against the Indians. In July the Reform party seem 
 to have achieved a legislative triumph, and in August 
 a popular convention met at Williamsburg, voted to 
 sustain Bacon against the Indians and to prevent, if 
 possible, a civil war ; but the sudden sickness and 
 death of Bacon in October deprived the popular party 
 of its only efficient leader, and Berkeley reestablished 
 his tyranny by such general hurried and indecent 
 executions that the king is said to have exclaimed 
 "The old fool has taken more lives in his naked 
 country than I for my father's murder." The 
 character of his administration till his enforced recall 
 in 1676 may be gathered from his often quoted say- 
 ing "Thank God there are no free schools nor 
 printing presses, and I hope there will be none for 
 an hundred years, for learning has brought disobedi- 
 ence and heresy and sects into the world and print- 
 
148 BACON'S REBELLION. 
 
 ing has divulged these and other libels." The 
 rebellion had a romantic character that seemed to 
 beckon the historian as it has the romancer. There 
 is an anonymous " History of Bacon's and Ingrams' 
 Rebellion," known as "The Burwell Papers," 
 printed by the Massachusetts Historical Society in 
 1 814 and again more correctly in 1866. Though in- 
 complete it is a thoroughly readable narrative, a little 
 pedantic and affected and pronounced in its sym- 
 pathy with the aristocratic party. The writer has 
 been conjecturally identified with a planter, Cotton 
 of Acquia Creek, possibly the author of the concise 
 account that heads our selections. Another shorter 
 account written in 1705 by a certain T. M., prob- 
 ably Thomas Matthews, a Burgess of Stafford 
 County, and a man of genial credulity, has furnished 
 us interesting material. But neither of these writers 
 approaches, in literary power, that unknown "Ba- 
 con's man " who wrote upon his master a really noble 
 epitaph. All these documents may be found in Vol. 
 I. of ** Force's Tracts." 
 
 A SUCCINCT ACCOUNT. 
 
 [From "Strange News from Virginia," London, 
 1677. Possibly by Cotton.] 
 
 There is no nation this day under the copes of 
 Heaven can so experimentally speak the sad effects of 
 men of great parts being reduced to necessity, as 
 England ; but not to rake up the notorious misde- 
 meanors of the dead, I shall endeavor to prevent the 
 
BACONS REBELLION. 149 
 
 sad effects of so deplorable a cause, by giving you an 
 account of the remarkable life and death of this 
 Gentleman of whom I am about to discourse. And 
 because when a man has once engaged himself in an 
 ill action, all men are ready to heap an innumerable 
 aspersions upon him, of which he is no ways guilty, 
 I shall be so just in the history of his life as not to 
 rob him of those commendations which his birth and 
 acquisitions claim as due, and so kind both to loyalty 
 and the wholsome constituted laws of our kingdom, 
 as not to smother anything which would render him 
 to blame. 
 
 This Gentleman who has of late beckoned the 
 attention of all men of understanding who are any 
 ways desirous of novelty, [or] care what becomes 
 of any part of the world besides that themselves live 
 in, had the honor to be descended of an ancient and 
 honorable family, his name Nathaniel Bacon, to 
 which to the long known title of Gentleman, by his 
 long study [at] the Inns of Court he has since added 
 that of Esquire. He was the son of Mr. Thomas 
 Bacon of an ancient seat known by the denomination 
 of Freestone-Hall in the County of Suffolk, a gentle- 
 man of known loyalty and ability. His father as he 
 was able so he was willing to allow this his son a 
 very gentile competency to subsist upon, but he as it 
 proved having a soul too large for that allowance, 
 could not contain himself within bounds ; which his 
 careful father perceiving, and also that he had a mind 
 to travel (having seen divers parts of the world before) 
 consented to his inclination of going to Virginia, and 
 accomodated him with a stock for that purpose, 
 to the value of 1800/ Starling, as I am credibly 
 
150 BACONS REBELLION. 
 
 informed by a merchant of very good wealth, who 
 is now in this city, and had the fortune to carry him 
 thither. 
 
 He began his voyage thitherwards about three years 
 since, and lived for about a year's space in that conti- 
 nent in very good repute, his extraordinary parts like 
 a letter of recommendation rendering him acceptable 
 in all men's company, whilst his considerable con- 
 cerns in that place were able to bear him out in the 
 best of. society. These accomplishments of mind 
 and fortune, rendred him so remarkable, that the 
 worthy Governor of that Continent thought it requi- 
 site to take him into his Privy Council. 
 
 That Plantation which he chose to settle in is 
 generally known by the name of Curies, situate in 
 the upper part of James River and the time of his 
 Revolt was not till the beginning of March, 167^. 
 At which time the Susquo-hannan Indians (a known 
 enemy to that country) having made an insurrection, 
 and killed divers of the English, amongst whom it was 
 his fortune to have a servant slain ; in revenge of 
 whose death, and other damage (s) he received from 
 those turbulent Susquo-hanians, without the Governor's 
 consent he furiously took up arms against them and 
 was so fortunate as to put them to flight, but not con- 
 tent therewith ; the aforesaid Governor hearing of his 
 eager pursuit after the vanquished Indians, sent out a 
 select company of soldiers to command him to desist ; 
 but he instead of listening thereunto, persisted in his 
 revenge, and sent to the Governor to entreat his com- 
 mission, that he might more cheerfully prosecute his 
 design ; which being denied him by the messenger 
 he sent for that purpose, he notwithstanding con- 
 
BACON'S REBELLION. 151 
 
 tinued to make head with his own servants, and other 
 English then resident in Curies against them. In this 
 interim the people of Henrica had returned him Bur- 
 gess of their County ; and he in order thereunto 
 took his own sloop and came down towards James 
 Town, conducted by thirty odd soldiers, with part 
 of which he came ashore to Mr. Laurence's house, 
 to understand whether he might come in with safety 
 or not, but being discovered by one Parson Clough, 
 and also it being perceived that he had lined the 
 bushes of the said town with soldiers, the Governor 
 thereupon ordered an alarm to be beaten through the 
 whole town, which took so hot, that Bacon thinking 
 himself not so secure whilst he remained there within 
 reach of their fort, immediately commanded his men 
 aboard, and towed his sloop up the river ; which the 
 Governor perceiving, ordered the ships which lay at 
 Sandy-point to pursue and take him ; and they by 
 the industry of their commanders succeeded so well 
 in the attempt, that they presently stopt his passage ; 
 so that Mr. Bacon finding himself pursued both before 
 and behind, after some capitulations, quietly surren- 
 dred himself prisoner to the Governor's Commission- 
 ers, to the great satisfaction of all his friends ; which 
 action of his was so obliging to the Governor, that 
 he granted him his liberty immediately upon parole, 
 without confining him either to prison or chamber, 
 and the next day, after some private discourse passed 
 betwixt the Governor, the Privy Council, and him- 
 self, he was amply restored to all his former honors 
 and dignities, and a commission partly promised him 
 to be general against the Indian army ; but upon fur- 
 ther enquiry into his affairs it was not thought fit to 
 
152 BACONS REBELLION. 
 
 be granted him ; whereat his ambitious mind seemed 
 mightily to be displeased ; insomuch that he gave 
 out, that it was his intention to sell his whole con- 
 cerns in Virginia, and to go with his whole family 
 to live either in Merry-land or the South, because 
 he would avoid (as he said) the scandal of being 
 accounted a factious person there. But this resolu- 
 tion it seems was but a pretence, for afterwards he 
 headed the same runnagado English that he formerly 
 found ready to undertake and go sharers with him in 
 any of his rebellions, and adding to them the assist- 
 ance of his own slaves and servants, headed them so 
 far till they toucht at the Occonegies town, where 
 he was treated very civilly, and by the inhabitants 
 informed where some of the Susquehanno's were 
 inforted, whom presently he assails, and after he had 
 vanquished them, slew about seventy of them in their 
 fort. But as he returned back to the Occoneges, he 
 found they had fortified themselves with divers more 
 Indians than they had at his first arrival ; wherefore 
 he desired hostages of them for their good behavior, 
 whilst he and his followers lay within command of 
 their fort. But those treacherous Indians grown con- 
 fident by reason of their late recruit, returned him 
 this answer, That their guns were the only hostages 
 he was like to have of them, and if he would have 
 them he must fetch them. Which was no sooner 
 spoke, but the Indians sallied out of the fort and shot 
 one of his sentinels, whereupon he charged them so 
 fiercely, that the fight continued not only all that day, 
 but the next also, till the approach of the evening, 
 at which time finding his men grow faint for want 
 of provision, he laid hold of the opportunity, being 
 
BACON'S REBELLION. I 53 
 
 befriended by a gloomy night, and so made an hon- 
 orable retreat homewards. . . . 
 
 This being past, Mr. Bacon, about the 25th of 
 June last, dissatisfied that he could not have a com- 
 mission granted him to go against the Indians, in the 
 night time departed the town unknown to any body, 
 and about a week after got together between four and 
 five hundred men of New-Kent County, with whom 
 he marched to James-Town, and drew up in order be- 
 fore the House of State; and there peremptorily 
 demanded of the Governor, Council, and Burgesses 
 (there then collected) a commission to go against 
 the Indians, which if they should refuse to grant him, 
 he told them that neither he nor ne're a man in his 
 company would depart from their doors until he had 
 obtained his request ; whereupon to prevent farther 
 danger in so great an exigence, the Council and Bur- 
 gesses by much intreaty obtained him a commission 
 signed by the Governor, an act for one thousand 
 men to be listed under his command to go against 
 the Indians, to whom the same pay was to be granted 
 as was allowed to them who went against the fort. 
 But Bacon was not satisfied with this, but afterwards 
 earnestly importuned, and at length obtained of the 
 House, to pass an act of indemnity to all persons 
 who had sided with him, and also letters of recom- 
 mendations from the Governor to his Majesty in his 
 behalf; and moreover caused Colonel Claybourn and 
 his son Captain Claybourn, Lieutenant Colonel West, 
 and Lieutenant Colonel Hill, and many others, to be 
 degraded for ever bearing any office, whether it were 
 military or civil. 
 
 Having obtained these large civilities from the 
 
154 BACON'S REBELLION. 
 
 Governor, &c. one would have thought that if the 
 principles of honesty would not have obliged him to 
 peace and loyalty, those of gratitude should. But, 
 alas, when men have been once flusht or entered 
 with vice, how hard is it for them to leave it, espe- 
 cially it tends towards ambition or greatness, which 
 is the general lust of a large soul, and the common 
 error of vast parts, which fix their eyes so upon the 
 lure of greatness, that they have no time left them to 
 consider by what indirect and unlawful means they 
 must (if ever) attain it. 
 
 This certainly was Mr. Bacon's Crime, who after 
 he had once lanched into rebellion, nay, and upon 
 submission had been pardoned for it, and also. re- 
 stored, as if he had committed no such heinous 
 offence, to his former honor and dignities (which 
 were considerable enough to content any reasonable 
 mind) yet for all this he could not forbear wading 
 into his former misdemeanors, and continued his 
 opposition against that prudent and established gov- 
 ernment, ordered by his Majesty of Great Britain to 
 be duly observed in that continent. 
 
 In fine, he continued (I cannot say properly in 
 the fields, but) in the woods with a considerable army 
 all last summer, and maintained several brushes with 
 the Governor's party, sometimes routing them, and 
 burning all before him, to the great damage of many of 
 his Majesty's loyal subjects there resident; sometimes 
 he and his rebels were beaten by the Governor, &c. 
 and forced to run for shelter amongst the woods and 
 swamps. In which lamentable condition that un- 
 happy continent has remained for the space of almost 
 a twelve-month, every one therein that were able 
 
BACON'S REBELLION. I 55 
 
 being forced to take up arms for security of their own 
 lives, and no one reckoning their goods, wives, or 
 children to be their own, since they were so danger- 
 ously exposed to the doubtful accidents of an uncer- 
 tain war. 
 
 But the indulgent Heavens, who are alone able to 
 compute what measure of punishments are adequate 
 or fit for the sins or transgressions of a nation, has in 
 its great mercy thought fit to put a stop, at least, if 
 not a total period and conclusion to these Virginian 
 troubles, by the death of this Nat. Bacon, the great 
 molester of the quiet of that miserable nation ; so 
 that now we who are here in England, and have any 
 relations or correspondence with any of the inhabi- 
 tants of that continent, may by the arrival of the 
 next ships from that coast expect to hear that they 
 are freed from all their dangers, quitted of all their 
 fears, and in great hopes and expectation to live 
 quietly under their own vines, and enjoy the benefit 
 of their commendable labors. 
 
 1 know it is by some reported that this Mr. Bacon 
 was a very hard drinker, and that he died by imbib- 
 ing, or taking in too much brandy. But I am in- 
 formed by those who are persons of undoubted 
 reputation, and had the happiness to see the same 
 letter which gave his Majesty an account of his 
 death, that there was no such thing therein men- 
 tioned : he was certainly a person indued with great 
 natural parts, which notwithstanding his juvenile 
 extravagances he had adorned with many elaborate 
 acquisitions, and by the help of learning and study 
 knew how to manage them to a miracle, it being 
 the general vogue of all that knew him, that he 
 
156 BACON'S REBELLION. 
 
 usually spoke as much sense in as few words, and de- 
 livered that sense as opportunely as any they ever 
 kept company withal. Wherefore as I am my self 
 a lover of ingenuity, though an abhorrer of disturb- 
 ance or rebellion, I think fit since Providence was 
 pleaded to let him die a natural death in his bed, not 
 to asperse him with saying he killed himself with 
 drinking. 
 
 CAUSES OF THE STRIFE. 
 
 [From the " Burwell Papers." First Published 
 by the Mass. Hist. Soc, 18 14.] 
 
 The people chose Col. Bacon their General, which 
 post he accepted. He was a man of quality and 
 merit, brave, and eloquent ; became much endeared, 
 not so much for what he had yet done as the cause 
 of their affections, as for what they expected he 
 would do to deserve their devotion ; while with no 
 common zeal they sent up their reiterated prayers, first 
 to himself, and next to heaven, that he may become 
 their guardian angel, to protect them from the cruel- 
 ties of the Indians, against whom this gentleman had 
 a perfect antipathy. 
 
 It seems that at the first rise of the war this gentle- 
 man had made some overtures unto the Governor for 
 a commission to go and put a stop to the Indians'. 
 proceedings. But the Governor at present, either 
 not willing to commence the quarrel (on his part) 
 till more suitable reasons presented for to urge his 
 more severe prosecution of the same, against the 
 heathen ; or that he doubted Bacon's temper, as he 
 
BACON'S REBELLION. 157 
 
 appeared popularly inclined ; a constitution not con- 
 sistent with the times or the people's dispositions, 
 being generally discontented, for want of timely pro- 
 visions against the Indians, or for annual impositions 
 laid upon them too great (as they said) for them to 
 bear, and against which they had some considerable 
 time complained, without the least redress, — for 
 these or some other reasons the Governor refused to 
 comply with Bacon's proposals : which he looking 
 upon as undervaluing as well to his parts as a dis- 
 paragement to his pretensions, he in some elated and 
 passionate expressions swore, commission or no com- 
 mission, the next man or woman he heard of that 
 should be killed by the Indians, he would go out 
 against them though but twenty men would adven- 
 ture the service with him. Now it so unhappily fell 
 out that the next person that the Indians did kill was 
 one of his own family. Whereupon having got together 
 about seventy or ninety persons, most good house- 
 keepers, well armed, and seeing that he could not 
 legally procure a commission (after some strugglings 
 with the Governor), some of his best friends who 
 condemned his enterprises, he applies himself. . . . 
 
 This rash proceeding of Bacon, if it did not undo 
 himself, by his failing in the enterprise, might chance 
 to undo them in the affections of the people ; which, 
 to prevent, they thought it conducible to their inter- 
 est and establishment for to get the Governor in the 
 mind to proclaim him a rebel, as knowing that once 
 being done, since it could not be done but in and by 
 the Governor's name, it must needs breed bad blood 
 between Bacon and Sir William, not easily to be 
 purged ; for though Sir William might forgive what 
 
158 BACON'S REBELLION. 
 
 Bacon as yet had acted, yet it might be questionable 
 whether Bacon might forget what Sir William had 
 done. However, according to their desires, Bacon, 
 and all his adherents, was proclaimed a rebel, May 
 the 29, and forces raised to reduce him to his duty ; 
 with which the Governor advanced from the Middle 
 Plantation to find him out, and if need was to fight 
 him, if the Indians had not knocked him and those 
 that were with him in the head, as some were in 
 hope they had done, and which by some was ear- 
 nestly desired. 
 
 After some days the Governor retracts his march 
 (a journey of some thirty or forty miles), to meet 
 the Assembly, now ready to set down at our metropo- 
 lis ; while Bacon in the meanwhile meets with the 
 Indians, upon whom he falls with abundance of reso- 
 lution and gallantry (as his own party relates it) in 
 their fastness, killing a great many and blowing up 
 their magazines of arms and powder — to a consid- 
 erable quantity, if we may judge from himself; no 
 less than four thousand weight. This being done, 
 and all his provisions spent, he returns home, and 
 while here submits himself to be chosen burgess of the 
 county in which he did live, contrary to his qualifica- 
 tions, take him as he was formerly one of the Coun- 
 cil of State, or as he was now a proclaimed rebel. 
 However, he applies himself to the performance of 
 that trust reposed in him by the people, if he might 
 be admitted into the house. But this not saying ac- 
 cording to his desire, though according to his expec- 
 tation, and he remaining in his sloop (then at anchor 
 before the town), in which was about thirty gentle- 
 men besides himself, he was there surprised and made 
 
BACON'S REBELLION. 1 59 
 
 prisoner with the rest, some being put into irons, in 
 which condition they remained some time, till all 
 things were fitted for the trial. Which being brought 
 to a day of hearing, before the Governor and Council. 
 Bacon was not only acquitted and pardoned all mis- 
 demeanors, but restored to the Council table as before ; 
 and not only, but promised to have a commission 
 signed the Monday following (this was Saturday) as 
 General for the Indian war, to the universal satisfac- 
 tion of the people, who passionately desired the same ; 
 witnessed by the general acclamations of all then in 
 town. 
 
 And here who can do less than wonder at the 
 mutable and impermanent deportments of that blind 
 goddess Fortune, who in the morning leads men with 
 disgraces, and, ere night, crowns him with honors ; 
 sometimes depressing, and again elevating, as her 
 fickle humor is to smile or frown — of which this 
 gentleman's fate was a kind of epitome in the several 
 vicissitudes and changes he was subjected in a very 
 few days ; for in the morning, before his trial, he 
 was, in his enemies' hopes and his friends' fears, 
 judged for to receive the guerdon due to a rebel (and 
 such he was proclaimed to be), and, ere night, 
 crowned the darling of the people's hopes and desires, 
 as the only man fit in Virginia to put a stop to the 
 bloody resolution of the heathen. And yet again, as 
 a fuller manifestation of Fortune's inconstancy, within 
 two or three days, the people's hopes and his desires 
 were both frustrated by the Governor's refusing to 
 sign the promised commission : at which, being dis- 
 gusted, though he dissembled the same so well as he 
 could, he begs leave of the Governor to dispense with 
 
160 BACON'S REBELLION. 
 
 his services at the Council table, to visit his wife, who, 
 as she had informed him, was indisposed ; which re- 
 quest the Governor (after some contest with his own 
 thoughts) granted, contrary to the advice of some 
 about him, who suspected Bacon's designs, and that 
 it was not so much his lady's sickness as the troubles 
 of a distempered mind which caused him to withdraw 
 to his own house, and this was the truth, which in a 
 few days was manifested, when that he returned" to 
 town with five hundred men in arms. 
 
 The Governor did not want intelligence of Bacon's 
 designs, and therefore sent out his summons for York 
 train-bands to reinforce his guards then at town. But 
 the time was so short, not above twelve hours' warn- 
 ing, and those that appeared at the rendezvous made 
 such a slender number, that under four ensigns there 
 was not mustered above one hundred soldiers, and 
 not one half of them sure neither and all so sluggish 
 in their march, that before they could reach town, 
 by a great deal, Bacon had entered the same, and 
 by force obtained a commission, calculated to the 
 height of his own desires. With which commis- 
 sion, being invested (such as it was), he makes 
 ready his provisions, fills up his companies to the 
 designed number (five hundred in all) and so applies 
 himself to those services the country expected from 
 him. And first, for the securing the same against 
 the excursions of the Indians in his absence (and 
 such might be expected), he commissioned sev- 
 eral persons (such as he could confide in) in every 
 respective county, with select companies of well- 
 armed men, to ravage the forests, thickets, swamps, 
 and all such suspected places where Indians might 
 
BACON'S REBELLION. l6l 
 
 have any shelter for the doing of mischief. Which 
 proceedings of his put so much courage into the 
 planters, that they begun to apply themselves to their 
 accustomed employments in their plantations : which 
 till now they durst not do, for fear of being knocked 
 in the head, as, God knows, too many were, before 
 these orders were observed. 
 
 While the General (for so was Bacon now de- 
 nominated by virtue of his commission) was sedu- 
 lous in these affairs, and fitting his provisions about 
 the head of York River, in order to his advance 
 against the Indians, the Governor was steering quite 
 different courses. He was once more persuaded 
 (but for what reasons not visible) to proclaim Bacon 
 a rebel again, and now, since his absence afforded an 
 advantage to raise the country upon him so soon as 
 he should return tired and exhausted by his toil and 
 labor in the Indian war. For the putting this counsel 
 in execution, the Governor steps over in Gloucester 
 County (a place the best replenished for men, arms, 
 and affection of any county in Virginia), all which 
 the Governor summons to give him a meeting at a 
 place and day assigned, where being met according 
 to summons the Governor's proposals was so much 
 disrelished by the whole convention that they all dis- 
 banded to their own abodes, after their promise passed 
 to stand by and assist the Governor against all those 
 who should go about to wrong his person or debase 
 his authority ; unto which promise they annexed or 
 subjoined several reasons why they thought it not 
 convenient at present, convenient to declare them- 
 selves against Bacon, as he was now advancing against 
 the common enemy, who had in a most barbarous 
 
1 62 BACON'S REBELLION. 
 
 manner murdered some hundreds of their dear breth- 
 ren and countrymen, and would, if not prevented by 
 God and the endeavors of good men, do their utmost 
 for to cut off the whole Colony. 
 
 Therefore did they think that it would be a thing 
 inconsistent with right reason if that they, in this des- 
 perate conjuncture of time, should go and engage 
 themselves one against another ; from the result of 
 which proceedings, nothing could be expected but 
 ruin and destruction unto both, to the one and other 
 party, since that it might reasonably be conceived, 
 that while they should be exposing their breasts 
 against one another's weapons, the barbarous and 
 common enemy (who would make his advantages by 
 our disadvantages) should be upon their backs to 
 knock out their brains. But if it should so happen 
 (as they did hope would never happen) that the 
 General, after the Indian war was finished, should 
 attempt any thing against his Honor's person or gov- 
 ernment, that they would rise up in arms, with a 
 joint consent, for the preservation of both. 
 
 Since the Governor could obtain no more, he was 
 at present to rest himself contented with this, while 
 those who had advised him to these undertakings, was 
 not a little dissatisfied to find the event not answer 
 their expectations. But he at present, seeing there 
 was no more to be done, since he wanted a power to 
 have that done, which was esteemed the main of the 
 affairs now in hand to be done, namely, the gaining 
 of the Gloucester men to do what he would have 
 done, he thought it best to do what he had a power 
 to do, and that was once more to proclaim Bacon a 
 traitor, which was performed in all public places of 
 
BACON'S REBELLION. 163 
 
 meetings in these parts. The noise of which procla- 
 mation, after that it had passed the admiration of all 
 that were not acquainted with the reasons that moved 
 his Honor to do what he had now done, soon reached 
 the General's ears, not yet stopped up from listening 
 to apparent dangers. 
 
 This strange and unexpected news put him, and 
 some with him shrewdly to their trumps, believing 
 that a few such deals or shuffles (call them which 
 you please) might quickly wring the cards and game 
 too out his hand. He perceived that he was fallen 
 (like the corn between the stones), so that if he did 
 not look the better about him, he might chance to be 
 ground to powder. He knew that to have a certain 
 enemy in his front, and more than uncertain friends 
 in his rear, portended no great security from a violent 
 death, and that there could be no great difference be- 
 tween his being wounded to death in his breast with 
 bows and arrows, or in the back with guns and musket 
 bullets. He did see that there was an absolute neces- 
 sity of destroying the Indians, for the preservation of 
 the English, and that there was some care to be taken 
 for his own and soldiers' safety, otherwise that work 
 must be ill done where the laborers are made cripples, 
 and compelled instead of a sword to betake themselves 
 to a crutch. 
 
 It vexed him to the heart (as he was heard to say) 
 for to think that while he was hunting wolves, tigers, 
 and foxes, which daily destroyed our harmless sheep 
 and lambs, that he and those with him should be pur- 
 sued, with a full cry, as a more savage or a no less 
 ravenous beast. But to put all out of doubt, and 
 himself in some degree of safety, since he could not 
 
164 BACONS REBELLION. 
 
 tell but that some whom he left behind might not 
 more desire his death than to hear that by him the 
 Indians were destroyed, he forthwith (after a short 
 consultation held with some of his soldiers) counter- 
 marches his army, and in a trice came up with them 
 at the Middle Plantation, a place situated in the very 
 heart of the country. 
 
 BACON'S STRATAGEM. 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 Bacon soon perceived what easy work he was 
 likely to have in this service, and so begun to set as 
 small an esteem upon these men's courages as they 
 did upon their own credits. He saw, by the pro- 
 logue, what sport might be expected in the play, and 
 so began to dispose of his affairs accordingly. Yet 
 not knowing but that the paucity of his numbers 
 being once known to those in town, it might raise 
 their hearts to a degree of courage, having so much 
 the odds, and that many times number prevails 
 against resolution, he thought it not amiss, since the 
 Lion's strength was too weak, to strengthen the same 
 with the Fox's brains; and how this was to be 
 affected you shall hear : 
 
 For immediately he dispatcheth two or three parties 
 of horse and about so many in each party, for more 
 he could not spare, to bring into the camp some of 
 the prime gentlewomen, whose husbands were in 
 town ; where, when arrived, he sends one of them 
 to inform her own, and the others' husbands, for 
 
BACONS REBELLION. 165 
 
 what purposes he had brought them into the camp, 
 to be placed in the fore-front of his men at such time 
 as those in town should sally forth upon him. 
 
 The poor gentlewomen were mightily astonished 
 at this project ; neither were their husbands void of 
 amazements at this subtile invention. If Mr. Fuller 
 thought it strange that the devil's black guard should 
 be enrolled God's soldiers, they made it no less 
 wonderful that their innocent and harmless wives 
 should thus be entered a white guard to the devil. 
 This action was a method in war they were not well 
 acquainted with (no, not those the best informed in 
 military affairs), that before they could come to pierce 
 their enemies' sides, they must be obliged to dart 
 their weapons through their wives' breast ; by which 
 means though they (in their own persons) might 
 escape without wounds, yet it might be the lament- 
 able fate of their better half to drop by gun-shot, or 
 otherwise be wounded to death. 
 
 Whether it was these considerations, or some 
 others I do not know, that kept their swords in their 
 scabbards, but this is manifest : That Bacon knit 
 more knots by his own head in one day than all the 
 hands in town were able to untie in a whole week ; 
 while these ladies' white aprons became of greater 
 force to keep the besieged from falling out than his 
 works (a pitiful trench) had strength to repel the 
 weakest shot that should have been sent into his 
 leaguer, had he not made use of this invention. 
 
100 BACON'S REBELLION. 
 
 BACON'S DEATH. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 Bacon having for some time been besieged by 
 sickness, and now not able to hold out any longer, 
 all his strength and provisions being spent, surren- 
 dered up that fort he was no longer able to keep, 
 into the hands of that grim and all-conquering cap- 
 tain, Death, after that he had implored the assistance 
 of the above-mentioned minister, for the well making 
 his articles of rendition. The only religious duty 
 (as they say) he was observed to perform during 
 these intrigues of affairs, in which he was so consider- 
 able an actor, and so much concerned, that rather 
 than he would decline the cause, he became so 
 deeply engaged in the first rise thereof, though much 
 urged by arguments of dehortations by his nearest 
 relations and best friends, that he subjected himself 
 to all those inconveniences that, singly, might bring a 
 man of a more robust frame to his last home. After 
 he was dead he was bemoaned in these following 
 lines (drawn by the man that waited upon his per- 
 son, as it is said), and who attended his corpse to 
 their burial place, but where deposited till the gen- 
 eral day, not known, only to those who are reso- 
 lutely silent in that particular. There was many 
 copies of verses made after his departure, calculated 
 to the latitude of their affections who composed them ; 
 as a relish taken from both appetites I have here sent 
 you a couple : 
 
BACON'S EPITAPH. 167 
 
 BACON'S EPITAPH, MADE BY HIS MAN. 
 
 Death, why so cruel ? What ! no other way 
 To manifest thy spleen, but thus to slay 
 Our hopes of safety, liberty, our all, 
 Which, through thy tyranny, with him must fall 
 To its late chaos ? Had thy rigid force 
 Been dealt by retail, and not thus in gross, 
 Grief had been silent. Now we must complain, 
 Since thou, in him, hast more than thousand slain, 
 Whose lives and safeties did so much depend 
 On him their life, with him their lives must end. 
 
 If 't be a sin to think Death brib'd can be 
 We must be guilty j say 't was bribery 
 Guided the fatal shaft. Virginia's foes, 
 To whom for secret crimes just vengeance owes 
 Deserved plagues, dreading their just desert, 
 Corrupted Death by Paracelsian art 
 Him to destroy ; whose well tried courage such, 
 Their heartless hearts, nor arms, nor strength could touch. 
 
 Who now must heal those wounds, or stop that blood 
 The Heathen made, and drew into a flood ? 
 Who is 't must plead our cause ? nor trump, nor drum 
 Nor Deputation ; these, alas ! are dumb 
 And cannot speak. Our Arms (though ne'er so strong) 
 Will w^nt the aid of his commanding tongue, 
 Which conquer'd more than Casar. He o'erthrew 
 Only tne outward frame : this could subdue 
 The rugged works of nature. Souls replete 
 With dull chill cold, he'd animate with heat 
 Drawn forth of reason's limbec. In a word, 
 Mars and Minerva both in him concurred 
 For arts, for arms, whose pen and sword alike 
 As Cato's did, may admiration strike 
 Into his foes ; while they confess withal 
 It was their guilt styl'd him a criminal. 
 Only this difference does from truth proceed : 
 They in the guilt, he in the name must bleed. 
 While none shall dare his obsequies to sing 
 In deserv'd measures ; until time shall bring 
 
68 BACON'S REBELLION. 
 
 Truth crown'd with freedom, and from danger free 
 To sound his praises to posterity. 
 
 Here let him rest 5 while we this truth report 
 He's gone from hence unto a higher Court 
 To plead his cause, where he by this doth know 
 Whether to Caesar he was friend, or foe. 
 
 UPON THE DEATH OF G. B. 
 
 Whether to Caesar he was friend or foe ? 
 
 Pox take such ignorance, do you not know ? 
 
 Can he be friend to Caesar, that shall bring 
 
 The arms of Hell to fight against the King ? 
 
 (Treason, rebellion) then what reason have 
 
 We for to wait upon him to his grave, 
 
 There to express our passions ? Will 't not be 
 
 Worse than his crimes, to sing his elegy 
 
 In well tun'd numbers •, where each Ella bears 
 
 (To his flagitious name) a flood of tears? 
 
 A name that hath more souls with sorrow fed, 
 
 Than reached Niobe, single tears ere shed ; 
 
 A name that fill'd all hearts, all ears, with pain, 
 
 Until blest fate proclaimed, Death had him slain. 
 
 Then how can it be counted for a sin 
 
 Though Death (nay, though myself) had bribed beep 
 
 To guide the fatal shaft ? We honor all 
 
 That lends a hand unto a traitor's fall. 
 
 What though the well paid Rochit soundly ply 
 
 And box the pulpit into flattery ; 
 
 Urging his rhetoric and strained eloquence, 
 
 T' adorn encoffin'd filth and excrements; 
 
 Though the defunct (like ours) ne'er tried 
 
 A well intended deed until he died ? 
 
 'Twill be nor sin, nor shame, for us to say 
 
 A twofold passion checker-works this day 
 
 Of joy and sorrow ; yet the last doth move 
 
 On feet impotent, wanting strength to prove 
 
 (Nor can the art of logic yield relief) 
 
 How joy should be surmounted by our grief. 
 
VIOLENT CONCUSSIONS. 1 69 
 
 Yet that we grieve it cannot be denied, 
 But 't is because he was, not 'cause he died. 
 So wept the poor distressed Ilium dames 
 Hearing those named their city put in flames, 
 And country ruin'd. If we thus lament, 
 It is against our present joys' consent. 
 For if the rule in Physic true doth prove, 
 Remove the cause, th' effects will after move, 
 We have outliv'd our sorrows ; since we see 
 The causes shifting of our misery. 
 
 Nor is 't a single cause that 's slipped away, 
 That made us warble out a well-a-day. 
 The brains to plot, the hands to execute 
 Projected ills, Death jointly did nonsuit 
 At his black Bar. And what no bail could save 
 He hath committed prisoner to the grave ; 
 From whence there's no reprieve. Death keep him close j 
 We have too many Devils still go loose. 
 
 "VIOLENT CONCUSSIONS." 
 
 [From a Narrative furnished Secretary Harley 
 by a Writer signing himself T. M. Written 
 in 1705.] 
 
 Whilst some days passed in settling the quotas of 
 men, arms and ammunition, provisions, etc., each 
 county was to furnish, one morning early a bruit ran 
 about the town, "Bacon is fled, Bacon is fled;" 
 whereupon I went straight to Mr. Lawrence, who 
 formerly was of Oxford University, and for wit, 
 learning and sobriety was equalled there by few, and 
 who some years before (as Col. Lee, though one 
 of the Council and a friend of the Governor's, in- 
 formed me) had been partially treated at law, for a 
 considerable estate on behalf of a corrupt favorite ; 
 
170 BACON'S REBELLION. 
 
 which Lawrence complaining loudly of, the Gov- 
 ernor bore him a grudge, and now shaking his head, 
 said, '* Old treacherous villain," and that his house 
 was searched that morning at daybreak, but Bacon 
 was escaped into the country, having intimation that 
 the Governor's generosity in pardoning him and his 
 followers, and restoring him to his seat in Council, 
 were no other than previous wheedles to amuse him 
 and his adherents and to circumvent them by strata- 
 gem, forasmuch as the taking Mr. Bacon again into 
 the Council was first to keep him out of the Assem- 
 bly, and in the next place the Governor knew the 
 country people were hastening down with dreadful 
 threatenings to doubly revenge all wrongs should be 
 done to Mr. Bacon or his men, or whoever should 
 have had the least hand in them. 
 
 And so much was true that this young Mr. 
 Nathaniel Bacon (not yet arrived to thirty years) had 
 a nigh relation, namely, Col. Nathaniel Bacon, 
 of long standing in the Council, a very rich, politic 
 man, and childless, designing this kinsman for his 
 heir, who (not without much pains) had prevailed 
 with his uneasy cousin to deliver the forementioned 
 written recantation at the bar, having compiled it 
 ready to his hand, and by whose means 'twas sup- 
 posed that timely intimation was conveyed to the 
 young gentleman to flee for his life ; and also in 
 three or four days after Mr. Bacon was first seized I 
 saw abundance of men in town, come thither from 
 the heads of the rivers, who, finding him restored 
 and his men at liberty, returned home satisfied ; a 
 few days after which the Governor, seeing all quiet, 
 gave out private warrants to take him again, intend- 
 
VIOLENT CONCUSSIONS. 
 
 I 7 I 
 
 ing, as was thought, to raise the militia, and so to 
 dispose things as to prevent his friends from gathering 
 any more into a like numerous body and coming 
 down a second time to save him. 
 
 In three or four days after this escape, upon news 
 that Mr. Bacon was thirty miles up the river, at the 
 head of four hundred men, the Governor sent to 
 the parts adjacent, on both sides James River, for the 
 militia and all the men could be gotten to come and 
 defend the town. Expresses came almost hourly of 
 the army's approaches, who in less than four days 
 after the first account of them, at two of the clock, 
 entered the town, without being withstood, and 
 formed a body upon a green, not a flight shot from 
 the end of the state-house, of horse and foot, as well 
 regular as veteran troops, who forthwith possessed 
 themselves of all the avenues, disarming all in town, 
 and coming thither in boats or by land. 
 
 In half an hour after this the drum beat for the 
 House to meet, and in less than an hour more Mr. 
 Bacon came with a file of fusileers on either hand, 
 near the corner of the state-house, where the Gov- 
 ernor and Council went forth to him. We saw 
 from the window the Governor open his breast, and 
 Bacon strutting betwixt his two files of men, with 
 his left arm on Kenbow, flinging his right arm every 
 way, both like men distracted ; and if, in this mo- 
 ment of fury, that enraged multitude had fallen upon 
 the Governor and Council, we of the Assembly ex- 
 pected the same immediate fate. I stepped down, 
 and amongst the crowd of spectators found the sea- 
 men of my sloop, who prayed me not to stir from 
 them, when, in two minutes, the Governor walked 
 
1 J2 BACON'S REBELLION. 
 
 towards his private apartment, a quoit's cast distant, 
 at the other end of the state-house, the gentlemen of 
 the Council following him ; and after them walked 
 Mr. Bacon with outrageous postures of his head, 
 arms, body, and legs, often tossing his hand from his 
 sword to his hat, and after him came a detachment 
 of fusileers (muskets not being there in use), who 
 with their locks bent presented their fusils at a win- 
 dow of the Assembly cnamber filled with faces, 
 repeating with menacing voices, " We will have it, 
 we will have it," half a minute, when as one of our 
 House, a person known to many of them, shook his 
 handkerchief out at the window, saying, " You shall 
 have it, you shall have it," three or four times ; at 
 these words they sat down their fusils, unbent their 
 locks and stood still until Bacon, coming back, fol- 
 lowed him to their main body. In this hubbub a 
 servant of mine got so nigh as to hear the Governor's 
 words, and also followed Mr. Bacon and heard what 
 he said, who came and told me, that when the 
 Governor opened his breast, he said, "Here ! shoot 
 me. Foregod, fair mark ! shoot ! " often rehears- 
 ing the same, without any other words ; whereto 
 Mr. Bacon answered, u No, may it please your 
 Honor, we will, not hurt a hair of your head, nor 
 of any other man's ; we are come for a commission 
 to save our lives from the Indians, which you have so 
 often promised, and now we will have it before we 
 
 g°-" 
 
 But when Mr. Bacon followed the Governor and 
 
 Council with the forementioned impetuous (like 
 
 delirious) actions, whilst that party presented their 
 
 fusils at the window full of faces, he said, "Damn 
 
VIOLENT CONCUSSIONS. I 73 
 
 my blood, I'll kill Governor, Council, Assembly, and 
 all, and then I'll sheathe my sword in my own heart's 
 blood ; " and afterwards 'twas said Bacon had given 
 a signal to his men who presented their fusils at those 
 gazing out at the window, that if he should draw his 
 sword they were on sight of it to fire, and slay us ; 
 so near was the massacre of us all that very minute, 
 had Bacon in that paroxysm of frantic fury but drawn 
 his sword before the pacific handkerchief was shaken 
 out at window. 
 
 In an hour or more after these violent concussions 
 Mr. Bacon came up to our chamber and desired a 
 commission from us to go against the Indians. Our 
 Speaker sat silent, when one Mr. Blayton, a neigh- 
 bor to Mr. Bacon and elected with him a member of 
 Assembly for the same county (who therefore durst 
 speak to him), made answer, " 'Twas not in our 
 province or power, nor of any other, save the King's 
 vicegerent, our Governor." He pressed hard nigh 
 half an hour's harangue on the preserving our lives 
 from the Indians, inspecting the public revenues, the 
 exorbitant taxes, and redressing the grievances and 
 calamities of that deplorable country, whereto having 
 no other answer, he went away dissatisfied. 
 
 Next day there was a rumor the Governor and 
 Council had agreed Mr. Bacon should have a com- 
 mission to go General of the forces we then were 
 raising ; whereupon I being a member for Stafford, 
 the most northern frontier, and where the war begun, 
 considering that Mr. Bacon dwelling in the most 
 southern frontier county, might the less regard the 
 parts I represented, I went to Col. Cole (an active 
 member of the Council) desiring his advice, if ap- 
 
174 BACON'S REBELLION. 
 
 plications to Mr. Bacon on that subject were then 
 seasonable and safe, which he approving and earnestly 
 advising I went to Mr. Lawrence, who was esteemed 
 Mr. Bacon's principal consultant, to whom he took 
 me with him, and there left me, where I was enter- 
 tained two or three hours with the particular rela- 
 tions of divers before-recited transactions ; and as to 
 the matter I spake of, he told me that the Governor 
 had indeed promised him the command of the forces, 
 and if his Honor should keep his word (which he 
 doubted) he assured me " the like care should be 
 taken of the remotest corners in the land, as of his 
 own dwelling-house," and prayed me to advise him 
 what persons in those parts were most fit to bear 
 commands. I frankly gave him my opinion that the 
 most satisfactory gentlemen to Governor and people, 
 would be commanders of the militia, wherewith he 
 was well pleased, and himself wrote a list of those 
 nominated. 
 
 That evening I made known what had passed 
 with Mr. Bacon to my colleague Col. Mason 
 (whose bottle attendance doubled my task) ; the 
 matter he liked well, but questioned the Governor's 
 approbation of it. 
 
 I confessed the case required sedate thoughts, rea- 
 soning that he and such like gentlemen must either 
 command or be commanded, and if on their denials 
 Mr. Bacon should take distaste, and be constrained to 
 appoint commanders out of the rabble, the Governor 
 himself with the persons and estates of all in the land 
 would be at their dispose, whereby their own ruin 
 might be owing to themselves. In this he agreed 
 and said, " If the Governor would give his own com- 
 
VIOLENT CONCUSSIONS. I 75 
 
 mission he would be content to serve under General 
 Bacon" (as now he began to be entitled), but first 
 would consult other gentlemen in the same circum- 
 stances ; who all concurred 'twas the most safe 
 barrier in view against pernicious designs, if such 
 should be put in practice. With this I acquainted 
 Mr. Lawrence, who went rejoicing to Mr. Bacon 
 with the good tidings that the militia commanders 
 were inclined to serve under him, as their General, 
 in case the Governor would please to give them his 
 own commissions. 
 
 We of the House proceeded to finish the bill for 
 the war, which by the assent of the Governor and 
 Council being passed into an act, the Governor sent 
 us a letter directed to his Majesty, wherein were 
 these words : '* I have above thirty years governed 
 the most flourishing country the sun ever shone over, 
 but am now encompassed with rebellion, like waters, 
 in every respect like to that of Massanello, except 
 their leader," and of like import was the substance 
 of that letter. But we did not believe his Honor 
 sent us all he wrote to his Majesty. 
 
 Some judicious gentlemen of our House likewise 
 penned a letter or remonstrance to be sent his Majesty, 
 setting forth the gradations of those eruptions, and two 
 or three of them with Mr. Minge, our clerk, brought 
 it me to compile a few lines for the conclusion of it, 
 which I did (though not without regret in those 
 watchful times, when every man had eyes on him); 
 but what I wrote was with all possible deference to 
 the Governor and in the most soft terms my pen 
 could find the case to a^mf. 
 
 Col. Spencer, being mv -leijrnber and intimate 
 
176 BACONS REBELLION. 
 
 friend, and a prevalent member in the Council, I 
 prayed him to entreat the Governor we might be 
 dissolved, for that was my first and should be my 
 last going astray from my wonted sphere of mer- 
 chandise and other my private concernments into 
 the dark and slippery meanders of court embarrass- 
 ments. He told me the Governor had not then 
 determined his intention, but he would move his 
 Honor about it, and in two or three days we were 
 dissolved, which I was most heartily glad of, because 
 of my getting loose again from being hampered amongst 
 those pernicious entanglements in the labyrinths and 
 snares of State ambiguities, and which until then 1 
 had not seen the practice nor the dangers of ; for it was 
 observed that several of the members had secret badges 
 of distinction fixed upon them, as not docile enough 
 to gallop the future races that court seemed disposed 
 to lead them, whose maxims I had ofttimes heard 
 whispered before, and then found confirmed by divers 
 considerate gentlemen, viz., "That the wise and rich 
 were prone to faction and sedition, but the fools and 
 poor were easy to be governed." 
 
 Many members being met one evening nigh sunset, 
 to take our leaves each of other, in order next day to 
 return homewards, came Gen. Bacon with his hand 
 full of unfolded papers and overlooking us round, 
 walking in the room, said, "Which of these gentle- 
 men shall I entreat to write a few words for me ? ' ' 
 where, every one looking aside as not willing to 
 meddle, Mr. Lawrence pointed at me, saying, 
 "That gentleman writes very well;" which I 
 endeavoring to excuse, Mr. Bacon came stooping to 
 the ground and said, •■ i <ay, sir, do me the honor 
 to write a line ror u«r 
 
VIOLENT CONCUSSIONS. IJJ 
 
 This surprising accostment shocked me into a 
 melancholy consternation, dreading upon one hand 
 that Stafford County would feel the smart of his 
 resentment if I should refuse him whose favor I had 
 so lately sought and been generously promised on 
 their behalf; and on the other hand fearing the 
 Governor's displeasure, who I knew would soon 
 hear of it. What seemed most prudent at this 
 hazardous dilemma was to obviate the present impend- 
 ing peril ; so Mr. Bacon made me sit the whole night 
 by him filling up those papers, which I then saw were 
 blank commissions signed by the Governor, inserting 
 such names and writing other matters as he dictated ; 
 which I took to be the happy effects of the consult 
 before-mentioned with the commanders of the militia, 
 because he gave me the names of very few others to 
 put into these commissions ; and in the morning he 
 left me with an hour's work or more to finish, when 
 came to me Capt. Carver, and said he had been to 
 wait on the General for a commission, and that he 
 was resolved to adventure his old bones against the 
 Indian rogues, with other the like discourse, and 
 at length told me that whatever I desired in the 
 General's power was at my service. I prayed 
 him humbly to thank his Honor, and to acquaint him 
 I had no other boon to crave than his promised kind- 
 ness to Stafford County, for beside the not being worthy, 
 I never had been conversant in military matters, and 
 also having lived tenderly, my service could be of no 
 benefit, because the hardships and fatigues of a wilder- 
 ness campaign would put a speedy period to my days. 
 Little expecting to hear of more intestine broils, I 
 went home to Potomac, where reports were after- 
 
178 BACON'S REBELLION. 
 
 wards various. We had account that General Bacon 
 was marched with a thousand men into the forest to 
 seek the enemy Indians, and in a few days after our 
 next news was that the Governor had summoned 
 together the militia of Gloucester and Middlesex 
 Counties to the number of twelve hundred men, and 
 proposed to them to follow and suppress that rebel 
 Bacon ; whereupon arose a murmuring before his 
 face, " Bacon, Bacon, Bacon," and all walked out 
 of the field, muttering as they went, " Bacon, Bacon, 
 Bacon," leaving the Governor and those that came 
 with him to themselves, who being thus abandoned 
 wafted over Chesapeake Bay thirty miles to Accomac, 
 where are two counties of Virginia. 
 
 Mr. Bacon, hearing of this, came back part of the 
 way, and sent out parties of horse patrolling through 
 every county, carrying away prisoners all whom he 
 distrusted might any more molest his Indian persecu- 
 tion, yet giving liberty to such as pledged him their 
 oaths to return home and live quiet ; the copies or 
 contents of which oaths I never saw, but heard were 
 very strict, though little observed. 
 
 About this time was a spy detected pretending 
 himself a deserter, who had twice or thrice come 
 and gone from party to party, and was by council 
 of war sentenced to death, after which Bacon 
 declared openly to him, " That if any one man in 
 the army would speak a word to save him, he should 
 not suffer," which no man appearing to do, he was 
 executed. Upon this manifestation of clemency 
 Bacon was applauded for a merciful man, not willing 
 to spill Christian blood ; nor indeed was it said that 
 he put any other man to death in cold blood, or 
 
VIOLENT CONCUSSIONS. I 79 
 
 plunder(ed) any house. Nigh the same time came 
 Maj. Langston with his troop of horse and quartered 
 two nights at my house, who (after high compliments 
 from the General) told me I was desired f> to accept 
 the lieutenancy for preserving the peace in the s. 
 northern counties betwixt Potomac and Rappahan- 
 nock Rivers." I humbly thanked his Honor, 
 excusing myself as I had done before on that invita- 
 tion of the like nature at Jamestown, but did hear he 
 was mightily offended at my evasions and threatened 
 to remember me. 
 
 The Governor made a second attempt, coming 
 over from Accomac with what men he could pro- 
 cure in sloops and boats forty miles up the river to 
 Jamestown, which Bacon hearing of, came again 
 down from his forest pursuit, and finding a bank 
 not a flight shot long cast up thwart the neck of 
 the peninsula there in Jamestown, he stormed it, 
 and took the town, in which attack were twelve men 
 slain and wounded, but the Governor with most of 
 his followers fled back down the river in their vessels. 
 
 Here, resting a few days, they concerted the burn- 
 ing of the town, wherein Mr. Lawrence and Mr. 
 Drumond, owning the two best houses save one, 
 set fire each to his own house, which example the 
 soldiers following, laid the whole town (with church 
 and state-house) in ashes, saying, " The rogues should 
 harbor no more there." 
 
 On these reiterated molestations, Bacon calls a 
 convention at Middle Plantation, fifteen miles from 
 Jamestown, in the month of August 1676, where 
 an oath with one or more proclamations were formed, 
 and writs by him issued for an Assembly. The oaths 
 
l8o BACON'S REBELLION. 
 
 or writs I never saw, but one proclamation commanded 
 all men in the land on pain of death to join him, and 
 retire into the wilderness upon arrival of the forces 
 expected from England, and oppose them until they 
 should propose or accept to treat of an accommoda- 
 tion, which we who lived comfortably could not have 
 undergone, so as the whole land must have become an 
 Aceldama if God's exceeding mercy had not timely 
 removed him. 
 
WILLIAM HUBBARD. 
 
 William Hubbard, a New England clergyman 
 of decided historical bent, was born in England in 
 1 62 1, and died in 1704 at Ipswich, where he had 
 been pastor from 1665 until a year before his death. 
 He was brought to New England as a child in 1630, 
 and was graduated at Harvard in 1642. A friend 
 describes him as " hospitable, amiable, equal to any 
 of his contemporaries in learning and candor, and 
 superior to all as a writer," but the specimens that 
 we present will hardly bear out the last judgment. 
 His abilities were, however, highly regarded by his 
 fellow New Englanders, for the Government commis- 
 sioned him to write a history of New England, for 
 the manuscript of which he was paid fifty pounds. 
 This was not then printed, and barely escaped destruc- 
 tion by the mob that burned Governor Hutchinson's 
 house in 1765. It was rescued by Dr. Ardrew 
 Elliot and presented by his son to the Massachusetts 
 Historical Society, by whom it was printed in 181 5. 
 It is more voluminous than interesting, and is not rep- 
 resented in our selections. His Narrative of the 
 Trouble with the Indians of New England, a less 
 ambitious but very popular work, a volume of ser- 
 mons, and a Testimony of the Order of the Gospel 
 in Churches, alone appeared in the lifetime of their 
 author. Our selections are taken from the Narrative 
 181 
 
182 WILLIAM HUBBARD. 
 
 of the Troubles, a book which, with many others 
 dealing with the subject of Indian warfare, aroused 
 breathless interest around New England firesides. 
 
 THE BEGINNING OF HOSTILITIES. 
 
 [From "A Narrative of the Indian Wars in 
 New England." 1677.] 
 
 The occasion of Philip's so sudden taking up arms 
 the last year, was this : There was one John Sausa- 
 man, a very cunning and plausible Indian, well skilled 
 in the English language, and bred up in the profession 
 of Christian Religion, employed as a schoolmaster at 
 Natick, the Indian Town, who upon some misde- 
 meanor fled from his place to Philip, by whom he 
 was entertained in the room and office of secretary, 
 and his chief councillor, whom he trusted with all his 
 affairs and secret counsels. But afterwards, whether 
 upon the sting of his own conscience, or by the fre- 
 quent solicitations of Mr. Eliot, that had known him 
 from a child, and instructed him in the principles of 
 our religion, who was often laying before him the 
 heinous sin of his apostacy, and returning back to his 
 old vomit ; he was at last prevailed with to forsake 
 Philip, and return back to the Christian Indians it 
 Natick where he was baptized, manifested public 
 repentance for all his former offences, and made 
 a serious profession of the Christian Religion : and 
 did apply himself to preach to the Indians, wherein 
 he was better gifted than any other of the Indian 
 nation ; so as he was observed to conform more to 
 
BEGINNING OF HOSTILITIES. 183 
 
 the English manners than any other Indian : yet 
 having occasion to go up with some others of his 
 countrymen to Namasket, whether for the advantage 
 of fishing or some such occasion, it matters not ; 
 being there not far from Philip's country, he had 
 occasion to be much in the company of Philip's 
 Indians, and of Philip himself: by which means he 
 discerned by several circumstances that the Indians 
 were plotting anew against us ; the which out of 
 faithfulness to the English the said Sausaman informed 
 the Governor of ; adding also, that if it were known 
 that he revealed it, he knew they would presently kill 
 him. There appearing so many concurrent testimo- 
 nies from others, making it the more probable, that 
 there was certain truth in the information ; some 
 inquiry was made into the business, by examining 
 Philip himself, several of his Indians, who although 
 they could do nothing, yet could not free themselves 
 from just suspicion ; Philip therefore soon after con- 
 trived the said Sausaman's death, which was strangely 
 discovered ; notwithstanding it was so cunningly 
 effected, for they that murdered him, met him upon 
 the ice upon a great pond, and presently after they 
 had knocked him down, put him under the ice, yet 
 leaving his gun and his hat upon the ice, that it might 
 be thought he fell in accidentally through the ice and 
 was drowned : but being missed by his friend, who 
 finding his hat and his gun, they were thereby led to 
 the place, where his body was found under the ice : 
 when they took it up to bury him, some of his friends 
 specially one David, observed some bruises about his 
 head, which made them suspect he was first knocked 
 down, before he was put into the water : however, 
 
184 WILLIAM HUBBARD. 
 
 they buried him near about the place where he was 
 found, without making any further inquiry at present : 
 nevertheless David his friend, reported these things to 
 some English at Taunton (a town not far from 
 Namasket), occasioned the Governor to inquire fur- 
 ther into the business, wisely considering, that as 
 Sausamin had told him, If it were known that he 
 had revealed any of their plots, they would murder 
 him for his pains : wherefore by special warrant the 
 body of Sausaman being digged again out of his 
 grave, it was very apparent that he had been killed, 
 and not drowned. And by a strange providence an 
 Indian was found, that by accident was standing 
 unseen upon a hill, had seen them murder the said 
 Sausaman, but durst never reveal it for fear of losing 
 his own life likewise, until he was called t:> the Court 
 at Plymouth, or before the Governor, where he 
 plainly confessed what he had seen. The murderers 
 being apprehended, were convicted by his undeniable 
 testimDny, and other remarkable circumstances, and 
 so were all put to death, being but three in number ; 
 the last of them confessed immediately before his 
 death, that his father (one of the councillors and 
 special friends of Philip) was one of the two that 
 murdered Sausaman, himself only looking on. This 
 was done at Plymouth Court, held in June 1674.. 
 Insomuch that Philip apprehending the danger his 
 own head was in next, never used any further means 
 to clear himself from what was like to be laid to his 
 charge, either about his plotting against the English, 
 nor yet about Sausaman's death : but by keeping his 
 men continually about him in arms, and gathering 
 what strangers he could to join with him, marching 
 
BEGINNING OF HOSTILITIES. 1 85 
 
 up and down constantly in arms, both all the while 
 the Court sat, as well as afterwards. The English 
 of Plymouth hearing of all this, yet took no further 
 notice, than only to order a militia watch in all the 
 adjacent towns, hoping that Philip finding himself not 
 likely to be arraigned by order of the said Court, the 
 present cloud might blow over, as some others of like 
 nature had done before ; but in conclusion, the mat- 
 ter proved otherwise ; for Philip finding his strength 
 daily increasing, by the flocking of neighbor Indians 
 unto him, and sending their wives and children to the 
 Narhagansets for security (as they use to do when 
 they intend war with any of their enemies,) imme- 
 diately they began to alarm the English at Swanzy, 
 (the next town to Philip's country,) as it were dar- 
 ing the English to begin ; at last their insolencies 
 grew to such an height, that they began not only to 
 use threatening words to the English, but also to kill 
 their cattle and rifle their houses ; whereat an Eng- 
 lishman was so provoked, that he let fly a gun at an 
 Indian, but did only wound, not kill him ; where- 
 upon the Indians immediately began to kill all the 
 English they could, so as on the 24th of June, 1675, 
 was the alarm of war first sounded in Plymouth Col- 
 ony, when eight or nine of the English were slain in 
 and about Swanzy : They first making a shot at a 
 company of English as they returned from the assem- 
 bly where they were met in way of humiliation that 
 day, whereby they killed one and wounded others : 
 and then likewise at the same time, they slew two 
 men on the highway, sent to call a surgeon, and bar- 
 barously the same day murdered six men in and about 
 a dwelling house in another part of the town : all 
 
l86 WILLIAM HUBBARD. 
 
 which outrages were committed so suddenly, that the 
 English had no time to make any resistance. For on 
 the 1 4th of the same month, besides endeavors used 
 by Mr. Brown of Swanzy, one of the magistrates 
 of Plymouth jurisdiction, an amicable letter was sent 
 from the Council of Plymouth to Philip, showing a 
 dislike of his practices, and advising him to dismiss 
 his strange Indians, and not suffer himself to be abused 
 by false reports concerning' them that intended him 
 no hurt : but no answer could be obtained, otherwise 
 than threatning of war, which it was hoped might 
 have been prevented, as heretofore it had been, when 
 things seemed to look with as bad a face as then they 
 did. However the Governor and Council of Ply- 
 mouth, understanding that Philip continued in his 
 resolution, and manifested no inclination to peace, 
 they immediately sent us what forces they could to 
 secure the towns thereabouts, and make resistance as 
 occasion might be : and also dispatched away mes- 
 sengers to the Massachusetts Governor and Council, 
 letting them know the state of things about Mount 
 Hope : and desiring their speedy assistance, upon 
 which, care was immediately taken with all expedi- 
 tion to send such supplies as were desired : But in 
 the mean time two messengers were dispatched to 
 Philip, to try whether he could not be diverted from 
 his bloody enterprize, so as to have prevented the 
 mischief since fallen out, hoping, that as once before, 
 viz., anno 1671, by their mediation, a stop was put 
 to the like tragedy ; so the present war might by the 
 same means have been now turned aside. For in 
 the said year, Philip had firmly engaged himself, 
 when he was at Boston, not to quarrel with Plymouth 
 
BEGINNING OF HOSTILITIES. 187 
 
 until he had first addressed himself to the Massachu- 
 setts for advice and approbation : But the two mes- 
 sengers aforesaid, finding the men slain in the road, 
 June 24, as they were going for the surgeon, ap- 
 prehended it not safe to proceed any further, con- 
 sidering also, that a peace now could not honorably 
 be concluded after such barbarous outrages commit- 
 ted upon some of the neighbor colony : Wherefore 
 returning with all speed to Boston, the Massachusetts 
 forces were dispatched away with all imaginable 
 haste, as the exigent of the matter did require, some 
 of them being then upon, or ready for their march, 
 the rest were ordered to follow after, as they could 
 be raised. The sending forth of which, because it 
 was the first engagement in any warlike preparations 
 against the Indians shall be more particularly declared. 
 On the 26th of June a foot company under Capt. 
 Daniel Henchman, with a troop under Capt. Thomas 
 Prentice, were sent out of Boston towards Mount 
 Hope ; it being late in the afternoon before they 
 began to march, the central eclipse of the moon in 
 Capric happened in the evening before they came up 
 to Neponset River, about twenty miles from Boston, 
 which occasioned them to make an halt for a little 
 repast, till the moon recovered her light again. Some 
 melancholy fancies would not be persuaded, but that 
 the eclipse falling out at that instant of time was omi- 
 nous, conceiving also that in the centre of the moon 
 they discerned an unusual black spot, not a little re- 
 sembling the scalp of an Indian : As some others 
 not long before, imagined they saw the form of an 
 Indian bow, accounting that likewise ominous (al- 
 though the mischief following was done by guns, not 
 
1 88 WILLIAM HUBBARD. 
 
 by bows) both the one and the other, might rather 
 have thought of what Marcus Crassus, the Roman 
 General, going forth with an army against the Par- 
 thians, once wisely replied to a private soldier, that 
 would have dissuaded him from marching at that time, 
 because of an eclipse of the moon in Capricorn, (that 
 he was more afraid of Sagitarius than of Capricornus) 
 meaning the arrows of the Parthians (accounted very 
 good archers) from whom, as things then fell out, was 
 his greatest danger. But after the moon had waded 
 through the dark shadow of the earth, and borrowed 
 her light again, by the help thereof the two com- 
 panies marched on towards Woodcok's House, thirty 
 miles from Boston, where they arrived next morn- 
 ing. . . . 
 
 THE TURN OF THE TIDE. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 There was at this time no small hopes of surpris- 
 ing Philip ; several reports being brought that he was 
 seen in this and that place, not having above twenty 
 or thirty men attending on him ; but his time was 
 not yet fully come, nor had he as yet fully accom- 
 plished all that mischief he was like to be suffered to 
 do. For on the 1st of July, 1676, a party of his 
 Indians committed a horrid and barbarous murder 
 upon Mr. Hezekiah Willet, of Swanzey, an hopeful 
 young gentleman as any in those parts. They used 
 frequently to keep a sentinel on the top of their 
 house from a watch house built thereon, whence they 
 
THE TURN OF THE TIDE. 189 
 
 could discover any Indians before they came near 
 the house, but not hearing of the enemy in those 
 parts for a considerable time, that necessary piece of 
 circumspection was omitted that day, whereby that 
 deserving person was betrayed into their cruel hands ; 
 for within a quarter of an hour after he went out of 
 his own door, within sight of his own house, he was 
 shot at by three of them at once, from every one of 
 whom he received a mortal wound ; they after their 
 barbarous manner took off his head, and carried it 
 away with them (which, however, was soon after 
 recovered) leaving the trunk of his body behind as a 
 sad monument of their inhuman cruelty. The same 
 Indians, not being above thirty in number, took away 
 a negro belonging to the same family, who, being 
 faithful to his master's and his country's interest, ven- 
 tured his life to make his escape, which was the pres- 
 ervation of many others ; for the said negro, being a 
 little acquainted with their language, discovered to the 
 English after his escape Philip's purpose to seize such 
 and such places. In the first place to assault Taun- 
 ton, which in all probability had been in great danger, 
 if their treacherous plot and purposes had not so won- 
 derfully been made known beforehand. The said 
 negro affirmed that there was near a thousand of them ; 
 for he observed that although they had killed twenty 
 head of neat cattle over night, yet there was not any 
 part of them left the next day at eight o'clock in the 
 morning. By this special providence the enemy was 
 defeated of their purpose, and never after had an 
 opportunity to do any considerable damage to the 
 English in that part of the country. So, after this 
 day, we may truly date the time of our deliverance 
 
190 WILLIAM HUBBARD. 
 
 and beginning of revenges upon the enemy ; now is 
 their own turn come, when it shall be done unto 
 them as they have done unto us : they that before led 
 others into captivity must henceforth go into captivity 
 themselves ; and they that killed with the sword must 
 themselves be killed with the sword, as in the sequel 
 of this narrative will abundantly be manifest. . . . 
 
 PHILIP'S DEATH. 
 
 This bloody wretch had one week or two more to 
 live, an object of pity, but a spectacle of divine ven- 
 geance ; his own followers beginning now to plot 
 against his life, to make the better terms for their own, 
 as they did also seek to betray Squaw Sachem of 
 Pocasset, Philip's near kinswoman and confederate. 
 For, 
 
 August 6. An Indian willing to shift for himself, 
 fled to Taunton, offering to lead any of the English 
 that would follow him, to a party of Indians, which 
 they might easily apprehend ; which twenty attempted, 
 and accordingly seized the whole company to the 
 number of twenty-six ; all but that Squaw Sachem 
 herself, who intending to make an escape from the 
 danger, attempted to get over the river or arm of the 
 sea near by, upon a raft of some pieces of broken 
 wood ; but whether tired and spent with swimming, 
 or starved with cold and hunger, she was found stark 
 naked in Metapoiset, not far from the waterside ; 
 which made some think, that she was first half 
 drowned, and so ended her wretched life just in that 
 place where the year before she had helped Philip to 
 
PHILIP'S DEATH. 191 
 
 make his escape : her head being cut off and set upon 
 a pole in Taunton, was known by some Indians then 
 prisoners, which set them into an horrid lamentation ; 
 but such was the righteous hand of God, in bringing 
 at the last that mischief upon themselves, which they 
 had without cause thus long acted against others. 
 
 Philip, like a savage and wild beast, having been 
 hunted by the English forces through the woods, 
 above an hundred miles backward and forward, at 
 last was driven to his own den, upon Mount-Hope, 
 where retiring himself with a few of his best friends 
 into a swamp, which proved but a prison to keep him 
 fast, till the messengers of death came by divine per- 
 mission to execute vengeance upon him, which was 
 thus accomplished. 
 
 Such had been his inveterate malice and wicked- 
 ness against the English, that despairing of mercy 
 from them, he could not bear that anything should 
 be suggested to him about a peace, insomuch as he 
 caused one of his confederates to be killed for pro- 
 pounding an expedient of peace ; which so provoked 
 some of his company, not altogether so desperate as 
 himself, that one of them (being near of kin that was 
 killed) fled to Road-Island (whither, that active 
 champion Capt. Church was newly retired, to re- 
 cruit his men for a little time, being much tired 
 with hard marches all that week) informing them 
 that Philip was fled to a swamp in Mount-Hope 
 whither he would undertake to lead them that would 
 pursue him. This was welcome news, and the best 
 cordial for such martial spirits : whereupon he im- 
 mediately, with a small company of men, part Eng- 
 lish and part Indians, began another march, which 
 
192 WILLIAM HUBBARD. 
 
 shall prove fatal to Philip, and end that controversy 
 betwixt the English and him : for coming very early 
 to the side of the swamp, his soldiers began presently 
 to surround it, and whether the Devil appeared to 
 him in a dream that night, as he did unto Saul, fore- 
 boding his tragical end (it matters not) ; as he 
 intended to make his escape out of the swamp, he 
 was shot through the heart by an Indian of his own 
 nation, as is said, that had all this while kept himself 
 in a neutrality until this time, but now had the cast- 
 ing-vote in his power, by which he determined the 
 quarrel that had held so long in suspense. In him is 
 fulfilled what was said in the Prophet, Wo to thee 
 that spoileth, and thou wast not spoilt, and dealest 
 treacherously, and they dealt not treacherously with 
 thee ; when thou shalt make an end to deal treacherously, 
 they shall deal treacherously with thee, Isa. 33- 1. 
 
 With Philip at this time fell five of his truest fol- 
 lowers, of whom one was said to be the son of his 
 chief captain, that had shot the first gun at the Eng- 
 lish the year before. This was done August 12, 
 1676, a remarkable testimony of divine favour to the 
 Colony of Plymouth, who had for their former suc- 
 cesses, appointed the 17th day of August following, 
 to be kept as a day of solemn Thanksgiving to 
 Almighty God. 
 
MARY ROWLANDSON. 
 
 Mary Rowlandson, the narrative of whose Cap- 
 tivity and Removes among the Indians appeared in 
 1682, and was a very popular book, was a daughter 
 of John White and the wife of Rev. Joseph Rowland- 
 son, the first minister of Lancaster, Massachusetts. 
 During King Philip's War, on the tenth of February, 
 1676, this town was surprised and burned, and she 
 was among the captives. Her narrative tells of her 
 sufferings from hunger, of the death of her child from 
 cold, and of her sale by her Narragansett captor to 
 an Indian chief, in whose wife she found "a most 
 uncomfortable mistress," though King Philip treated 
 her with much courtesy. For some three months she 
 accompanied the Indians on their marches and counter- 
 marches, suffering from hunger, abuse, and insult. 
 Finally she was redeemed for about eighty dollars, 
 a sum raised by several women of Boston, though the 
 negotiations were carried on through a resident of 
 Concord. Her later life was uneventful, but the 
 story of these three months, typical as it was of the 
 sufferings of many,, sank deep into the consciousness 
 of the colonists, and gave to border strife something 
 of the consecration of a holy war. 
 
 193 
 
194 MARY ROWLANDSON. 
 
 INDIAN ASSAULT. 
 
 [From "Narrative of the Captivity and Restoura= 
 tion of Mrs. Mary Roulandson." 1682.] 
 
 At length they came and beset our house, [at 
 Lancaster, February 10, 1675, O. S.] and quickly 
 it was the dolefulest day that ever mine eyes saw. 
 The house stood upon the edge of a hill ; some of 
 the Indians got behind the hill, others into the barn, 
 and others behind anything that would shelter them ; 
 from all which places they shot against the house, so 
 that the bullets seemed to fly like hail, and quickly 
 they wounded one man among us, then another, then 
 a third. About two hours (according to my observa- 
 tion in that amazing time) they had been about the 
 house before they prevailed to fire it, (which they 
 did with flax and hemp which they brought out of 
 the barn, and there being no defence about the house, 
 only two flankers at two opposite corners, and one 
 of them not finished) they fired it once, and one 
 ventured out and quenched it, but they quickly fired 
 it again, and that fx>k. Now is the dreadful hour 
 come that I have often heard of (in time of the war, 
 as it was the case of others) but now mine eyes see 
 it. Some in our house were fighting for their lives, 
 others wallowing in blood, the house on fire over 
 our heads, and the bloody heathen ready to knock us 
 on the head if we stirred out. Now might we hear 
 mothers and children crying out for themselves and 
 one another, Lord, what shall we do ! Then I took 
 my children (and one of my sisters hers) to go forth 
 
INDIAN ASSAULT. 1 95 
 
 and leave the house : but, as soon as we came to the 
 door and appeared, the Indians shot so thick that the 
 bullets rattled against the house as if one had taken a 
 handful of stones and threw them, so that we were 
 forced to give back. We had six stout dogs belong- 
 ing to our garrison, but none of them would stir, 
 though at another time if an Indian had come to the 
 door, they were ready to fly upon him and tear him 
 down. The Lord hereby would make us the more 
 to acknowledge his hand, and to see that our help is 
 always in him. But out we must go, the fire increas- 
 ing, and coming along behind us roaring, and the 
 Indians gaping before us with their guns, spears, and 
 hatchets to devour us. No sooner were we out of 
 the house, but my brother-in-law (being before 
 wounded in defending the house, in or near the 
 throat) fell down dead, whereat the Indians scorn- 
 fully shouted and hallowed, and were presently upon 
 him, stripping off his clothes. The bullets flying 
 thick, one went through my side, and the same (as 
 would seem) through the bowels and hand of my 
 poor child in my arms. One of my elder sister's 
 children (named William) had then his leg broke, 
 which the Indians perceiving they knocked him on 
 the head. Thus were we butchered by those merci- 
 less heathens, standing amazed, with the blood run- 
 ning down to our heels. My eldest sister being yet 
 in the house, and seeing those woful sights, the 
 infidels hauling mothers one way and children another, 
 and some wallowing in their blood ; and her eldest 
 son telling her that her son William was dead, and 
 myself was wounded, she said, "and Lord, let me 
 die with them ; " which was no sooner said, but she 
 
196 MARY ROWLANDSON. 
 
 was struck with a bullet, and fell down dead over 
 the threshold. I hope she is reaping the fruit of her 
 good labors, being faithful to the service of God in 
 her place. . . . 
 
 SOME OF HER EXPERIENCES. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 I had often before this said, that if the Indians 
 should come, I should choose rather to be killed by 
 them than taken alive, but when it came to the 
 trial, my mind changed ; their glittering weapons so 
 daunted my spirit, that I chose rather to go along 
 with those (as I may say) ravenous bears, than that 
 moment to end my days. And that I may the bet- 
 ter declare what happened to me during that grievous 
 captivity, I shall particularly speak of the several 
 Removes we had up and down the wilderness. 
 
 THE FIRST REMOVE. 
 
 Now away we must go with those barbarous crea- 
 tures, with our bodies wounded and bleeding, and 
 our hearts no less than our bodies. About a mile 
 we went that night, up upon a hill, within sight of 
 the town, where we intended to lodge. There was 
 hard by a vacant house (deserted by the English be- 
 fore, for fear of the Indians) ; I asked them whether 
 I might not lodge in the house that night ? to which 
 they answered, "What, will you love Englishmen 
 still ?" This was the dolefulest night that ever my 
 
SOME EXPERIENCES. 197 
 
 eyes saw. Oh, the roaring and singing, and danc- 
 ing, and yelling of those black creatures in the night, 
 which made the place a lively resemblance of hell. 
 And miserable was the waste that was there made, 
 of horses, cattle, sheep, swine, calves, lambs, roast- 
 ing pigs, and fowls (which they had plundered in the 
 town), some roasting, some lying and burning, and 
 some boiling, to feed our merciless enemies ; who 
 were joyful enough, though w r e were disconsolate. 
 To add to the dolefulness of the former day, and the 
 dismalness of the present night, my thoughts ran upon 
 my losses and sad, bereaved condition. All was gone, 
 my husband gone (at least separated from me, he 
 being in the Bay ; and to add to my grief, the Indians 
 told me they would kill him as he came homeward), 
 my children gone, my relations and friends gone, our 
 house and home, and all our comforts within door 
 and without, all was gone (except my life), and I 
 knew not but the next moment that might go too. 
 
 There remained nothing to me but one poor, 
 wounded babe, and it seemed at present worse than 
 death, that it was in such a pitiful condition, bespeak- 
 ing compassion, and I had no refreshing for it, nor 
 suitable things to revive it. Little do many think, 
 what is the savageness and brutishness of this bar- 
 barous enemy, those even that seem to profess more 
 than others among them, when the English have 
 fallen into their hands. . . . 
 
 THE SECOND REMOVE. 
 
 But now (the next morning) I must turn my 
 back upon the town, and travel with them into the 
 
198 MARY ROWLANDSON. 
 
 vast and desolate wilderness, I know not whither. 
 It is not my tongue or pen can express the sorrows 
 of my heart, and bitterness of my spirit, that I had 
 at this departure ; but God was with me in a won- 
 derful manner, carrying me along and bearing up my 
 spirit, that it did not quite fail. One of the Indians 
 carried my poor wounded babe upon a horse ; it 
 went moaning all along : «' I shall die, I shall die." 
 I went on foot after it, with sorrow that cannot be 
 expressed. At length I took it off the horse, and 
 carried it in my arms, till my strength failed and I 
 fell down with it. Then they set me upon a horse 
 with my wounded child in my lap, and there being 
 no furniture on the horse's back, as we were going 
 down a steep hill, we both fell over the horse's head, 
 at which they, like inhuman creatures, laughed, and 
 rejoiced to see it," though I thought we should there 
 have ended our days, overcome with so many diffi- 
 culties. But the Lord renewed my strength still, 
 and carried me along, that I might see more of his 
 power, yea so much that I could never have thought 
 of, had I not experienced it. . . . 
 
 THE EIGHTH REMOVE. 
 
 ... As I sat amongst them, musing on things past, 
 my son Joseph unexpectedly came to me. We asked 
 of each other's welfare, bemoaning our doleful condi- 
 tion and the change that had come upon us. We 
 had husband and father, and children and sisters, and 
 friends and relations, and house and home, and many 
 comforts of this life ; but now we might say as Job, 
 *' Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and 
 
SOME EXPERIENCES. 1 99 
 
 naked shall I return : The Lord gave, and the Lord 
 hath taken away, blessed be the name of the Lord." 
 I asked him whether he would read ? he told me he 
 earnestly desired it. I gave him my Bible, and he 
 lighted upon that comfortable scripture, Psalm cxviii. 
 17, 18 : "I shall not die, but live, and declare the 
 works of the Lord : The Lord hath chastened me 
 sore, yet he hath not given me over unto death." 
 Look here, mother (says he), did you read this? 
 And here I may take occasion to mention one prin- 
 cipal ground of my setting forth these lines, even as 
 the Psalmist says, to declare the works of the Lord, 
 and his wonderful power in carying us along, pre- 
 serving us in the wilderness while under the enemy's 
 hand, and returning of us in safety again ; and his 
 goodness in bringing to my hand so many comfort- 
 able and suitable scriptures in my distress. 
 
 But to return : We traveled on till night, and in 
 the morning we must go over the river to Philip's 
 crew. When I was in the canoe, I could not but 
 be amazed at the numerous crew of Pagans that were 
 on the bank on the other side. When I came 
 ashore, they gathered all about me, I sitting alone in 
 the midst : I observed they asked one another ques- 
 tions, and laughed, and rejoiced over their gains and 
 victories. Then my heart began to fail, and I fell a 
 weeping ; which was the first time, to my remem- 
 brance, that I wept before them ; although I had 
 met with so much affliction, and my heart was many 
 times ready to break, yet could I not shed one tear 
 ,in their sight, but rather had been all this while in a 
 maze, and like one astonished ; but now I may say 
 as Psal. cxxxviL 1 : "By the river of Babylon, there 
 
200 MARY ROWLANDSON. 
 
 we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered 
 Zion." There one of them asked me why I wept? 
 I could hardly tell what to say ; yet I answered, 
 they would kill me : No, said he, none will hurt 
 you. Then came one of them, and gave me two 
 spoonfuls of meal (to comfort me) and another gave 
 me half a pint of peas, which was worth more than 
 many bushels at another time. Then I went to see 
 King Philip ; he bade me come in and sit down, and 
 asked me whether I would smoke it ? (a usual com- 
 pliment now a days, among the saints and sinners), 
 but this in no way suited me. For though I had 
 formerly used tobacco, yet I had left it ever since I 
 was first taken. It seems to be a bait the devil lays 
 to make men lose their precious time. I remember 
 with shame how formerly, when 1 had taken two or 
 three pipes, I was presently ready for another ; such 
 a bewitching thing it is : but I thank God, He has 
 now given me power over it ; surely there are many 
 who may be better employed than to sit sucking a 
 stinking tobacco-pipe. 
 
 Now the Indians gathered their forces to go against 
 Northampton. Over night one went about yelling 
 and hooting to give notice of the design. Where- 
 upon they went to boiling of ground-nuts, and parch- 
 ing corn (as many as had it) for their provision: 
 and in the morning away they went. During my 
 abode in this place, Philip spake to me to make a 
 shirt for his boy, which I did ; for which he gave 
 me a shilling. I offered the money to my mistress, 
 but she bid me keep it, and with it I bought a piece 
 of horse-flesh. Afterward he asked me to make a 
 cap for his boy, for which he invited me to dinner ; 
 
SOME EXPERIENCES. 201 
 
 I went, and he gave me a pancake, about as big as 
 two fingers ; it was made of parched wheat, beaten 
 and fried in bear's grease, but I thought I never 
 tasted pleasanter meat in my life. There was a 
 squaw who spake to me to make a shirt for her san- 
 nup ; for which she gave me a piece of beef. An- 
 other asked me to knit a pair of stockings, for which 
 she gave me a quart of peas. I boiled my peas and 
 beef together, and invited my master and mistress to 
 dinner ; but the proud gossip, because I served them 
 both in one dish, would eat nothing, except one bit 
 that he gave her upon the point of his knife. Hear- 
 ing that my son was come to this place, I went to 
 see him, and found him lying flat on the ground ; I 
 asked him how he could sleep so ? he answered me, 
 that he was not asleep, but at prayer ; and that he 
 lay so, that they might not observe what he was 
 doing. I pray God he may remember these things 
 now he is returned in safety. At this place (the sun 
 now getting higher) what with the beams and heat 
 of the sun, and smoke of the wigwams, I thought I 
 should have been blinded. I could scarce discern 
 one wigwam from another. There was one Mary 
 Thurston, of Medfield, who, seeing how it was with 
 me, lent me a hat to wear ; but as soon as I was 
 gone, the squaw that owned that Mary Thurston 
 came running after me, and got it away again. Here 
 was a squaw who gave me a spoonful of meal ; I 
 put it in my pocket to keep it safe, yet notwithstand- 
 ing somebody stole it, but put five Indian corns in the 
 room of it ; which corns were the greatest provision 
 I had in my travel for one day. 
 
202 MARY ROWLANDSON. 
 
 HER RETURN. 
 
 . . . About the sun's going down, Mr. Hoar, my- 
 self, and the two Indians, came to Lancaster, and a sol- 
 emn sight it was to me. There had I lived many 
 comfortable years among my relations and neighbors ; 
 and now not one Christian to be seen, or one house 
 left standing. We went on to a farm house that 
 was yet standing, where we lay all night ; and a 
 comfortable lodging we had, though nothing but 
 straw to lie on. The Lord preserved us in safety 
 that night, and raised us up again in the morning, 
 and carried us along, that before noon we came to 
 Concord. Now was I fall of joy and yet not with- 
 out sorrow : joy, to see such a lovely sight, so many 
 Christians together, and some of them my neighbors. 
 There I met with my brother, and brother-in-law, 
 who asked me if I knew where his wife was. Poor 
 heart ! he had helped to bury her and knew it not ; 
 she, being shot down by the house, was partly 
 burned, so that those who were at Boston at the 
 desolation of the town, came back afterward and 
 buried the dead, did not know her. Yet I was not 
 without sorrow, to think how many were looking 
 and longing, and my own children among the rest, 
 to enjoy that deliverance that I had now received ; 
 and I did not know whether ever I should see them 
 again. Being recruited with food and raiment, we 
 went to Boston that day, where I met with my dear 
 husband ; but the thoughts of our dear children, one 
 being dead, and the other we could not tell where, 
 abated our comfort in each other. . . . About this time 
 the council had ordered a day of public thanksgiving, 
 
SOME EXPERIENCES. 203 
 
 though I had still cause of mourning ; and being un- 
 settled in our minds we thought we would ride east- 
 ward to see if we could hear anything concerning our 
 children. As we were riding along between Ipswich 
 and Rowley, we met with William Hubbard, who 
 told us our son Joseph and my sister's son were come 
 into Major Waldren's ; I asked him how he knew it r 
 He said the Major himself told him so. So along 
 we went till we came to Newbury ; and their minis- 
 ter being absent, they desired my husband to preach 
 the thanksgiving for them ; but he was not willing to 
 stay there that night, but he would go over to Salis- 
 bury to hear father, and come again in the morning, 
 which he did, and preached there that day. At night 
 when he had done, one came and told him that his 
 daughter was come into Providence. Here was mercy 
 on both hands. Now we were between them, the 
 one on the east, and the other on the west ; our son 
 being nearest, we went to him first, to Portsmouth, 
 where we met with him and with the Major also, who 
 told us he had done what he could, but could not 
 redeem him under seven pounds, which the good 
 people thereabouts were pleased to pay. The Lord 
 reward the Major, and all the rest, though unknown 
 to me, for their labor of love. My sister's son was 
 redeemed for four pounds, which the council gave 
 order for the payment of. Having now received one 
 of our children, we hastened toward the other. Going 
 back through Newbury, my husband preached there 
 on the Sabbath Day, for which they rewarded him 
 manifold. 
 
 On Monday we came to Charlestown, where we 
 heard that the Governor of Rhode Island had sent over 
 
204 MARY ROWLANDSON. 
 
 for our daughter, to take care of her, being now within 
 his jurisdiction ; which should not pass without our 
 acknowledgments. But she being nearer Rehoboth 
 than Rhode Island, Mr. Newman went over and took 
 care of her, and brought her to his own house. And 
 the goodness of God was admirable to us in our low 
 estate, in that He raised up compassionate friends on 
 every side, when we had nothing to recompense any 
 for their love. The Indians were now gone that 
 way, that it was apprehended dangerous to go to her ; 
 but the cart which carried provision to the English 
 army, being guarded, brought her with them to 
 Dorchester, where we received her safe ; blessed be 
 the Lord for it. Her coming in was after this man- 
 ner : She was traveling one day with the Indians, 
 with her basket on her back ; the company of Indians 
 were got before her and gone out of sight, all except 
 one squaw. She followed the squaw till night, and 
 then both of them lay down, having nothing over 
 them but the heavens, nor under them but the earth. 
 Thus she traveled three days together, having noth- 
 ing to eat or drink but water and green whortleber- 
 ries. At last they came into Providence, where she 
 was kindly entertained by several of that town. The 
 Indians often said that I should never have her under 
 twenty pounds, but now the Lord hath brought her 
 in upon free cost, and given her to me the second 
 time. The Lord make us a blessing indeed to each 
 other. Thus hath the Lord brought me and mine 
 out of the horrible pit, and hath set us in the midst 
 of tender-hearted and compassionate Christians. 'Tis 
 the desire of my soul that we may walk worthy of 
 the mercies received, and which we are receiving. 
 
URIAN OAKES. 
 
 Urian Oakes, a New England clergyman, poet, 
 Latinist, and President of Harvard College, was born 
 in England in 1631, and died in Cambridge, Massa- 
 chusetts, in 1 68 1. He was brought to America as 
 an infant, and showed great precosity, especially in 
 mathematics. He was graduated at Harvard in 
 1649, studied theology, and preached for a time at 
 Roxbury. Then he went to England, where he 
 obtained a benefice under the Protectorate, which he 
 lost at the Restoration. In 1668 he was summoned 
 to take charge of the church in Cambridge, Massa- 
 chusetts, and assumed that post three years later. 
 He succeeded Dr. Leonard Hoar as President of 
 Harvard in 1675, although he was not formally 
 inaugurated till 1680. He is especially noteworthy 
 for the scholarly Latinity of his Commencement 
 Sermons, but was also a gifted preacher in the ver- 
 nacular, and the author of one of the few really good 
 poems of the epoch — an elegy on his friend the Rev. 
 Thomas Shepard, who died in 1677. 
 
 205 
 
206 URIAN OAKES. 
 
 ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF THOMAS 
 SHEPARD. 
 
 [An " Elegy upon the Death of the Reverend 
 Mr. Thomas Shepard." 1677. J 
 
 Oh ! that I were a poet now in grain ! 
 
 How would I invocate the Muses all 
 
 To deign their presence, lend their flowing vein ; 
 
 And help to grace dear Shepard' s funeral ! 
 
 How would I paint our griefs, and succors borrow 
 From art and fancy, to limn out our sorrow ! 
 
 Now could I wish (if wishing would obtain) 
 
 The sprightliest efforts of poetic rage, 
 
 To vent my griefs, make others feel my pain, 
 
 For this loss of the glory of our age. 
 Here is a subject for the loftiest verse 
 That ever waited on the bravest hearse. 
 
 And could my pen ingeniously distill 
 The purest spirits of a sparkling wit 
 In rare conceits, the quintessence of skill 
 In elegiac strains ; none like to it : 
 
 I should think all too little to condole 
 
 The fatal loss (to us) of such a soul. 
 
 Could I take highest flights of fancy, soar 
 Aloft ; if wit's monopoly were mine ; 
 All would be much too low, too light, too poor. 
 To pay due tribute to this great divine. 
 
AN ELEGY. 20J 
 
 Ah ! wit avails not, when th' heart's like to break, 
 Great griefs are tongue-tied, when the lesser speak. 
 
 Oh ! that my head were waters, and mine eyes 
 A flowing spring of tears, still issuing forth 
 In streams of bitterness, to solemnize 
 The obits of this man of matchless worth ! 
 Next to the tears our sins do need and crave, 
 I would bestow my tears on Shepard's grave. 
 
 Not that he needs our tears : for he hath dropt 
 His measure full ; not one tear more shall fall 
 Into God's bottle from his eyes ; Death stopt 
 That water-course, his sorrows ending all. 
 
 He fears, he cares, he sighs, he weeps no more : 
 He's past all storms, arriv'd at th' wished shore. 
 
 Dear Shepard ! could we reach so high a strain 
 Of pure seraphic love, as to divest 
 Ourselves, and love, of self respects, thy gain 
 Would joy us, though it cross our interest. 
 
 Then would we silence all complaints with this, 
 Our dearest friend is doubtless gone to bliss. 
 
 Ah ! but the lesson's hard, thus to deny 
 Our own dear selves, to part with such a loan 
 Of Heaven (in time of such necessity) 
 And love thy comforts better than our own. 
 Then let us moan our loss, adjourn our glee, 
 Till we come thither to rejoice with thee. 
 
208 URIAN OAKES. 
 
 As when some formidable comet's blaze, 
 As when portentous prodigies appear, 
 Poor mortals with amazement stand and gaze, 
 With hearts affrighted, and with trembling fear : 
 So are we all amazed at this blow, 
 Sadly portending some approaching woe. 
 
 We shall not summon bold astrologers 
 To tell us what the stars say in the case, 
 (Those cousin-germans to black conjurers), 
 We have a sacred Oracle that says, 
 
 When th' righteous perish, men of mercy go, 
 - It is a sure presage of coming wo. 
 
 He was (ah, woful word ! to say he was) 
 Our wrestling Israel, second unto none, 
 The man that stood i' th' gap, to keep the pass, 
 To stop the troops of judgments rushing on. 
 This man the honor had to hold the hand 
 Of an incensed God against our Land. 
 
 Oh for the raptures, transports, inspirations 
 Of Israel's Singer, when' his Jonathan's fall 
 So tun'd his mourning harp ! what Lamentations 
 Then would I make for Shepard's funeral ! 
 How truly can I say, as well as he, 
 " My dearest brother, I am distress' d for thee. 1 
 
 How lovely, worthy, peerless, in my view ! 
 How precious, pleasant hast thou been to me ! 
 
AN ELEGY. 209 
 
 How learned, prudent, pious, grave, and true ! 
 
 And what a faithful friend ! who like to thee! 
 Mine eye's desire is vanish' d : who can tell 
 Where lives my dearest Shepard's parallel? 
 
 'Tis strange to think : but we may well believe, 
 That not a few, of different persuasions 
 From this great worthy, do now truely grieve 
 1' th' mourning crowd, and join their lamentations. 
 Such powers magnetic had he to draw to him 
 The very hearts, and souls, of all that knew him ! 
 
 Art, nature, grace, in him were all combin'd 
 To shew the world a matchless paragon : 
 In whom of radiant virtues no less shin'd 
 Than a whole constellation : but he's gone ! 
 He's gone alas ! Down in the dust must lye 
 As much of this rare person as could die. 
 
 * * * %. ^ ^i 5fc 
 
 Great was the father, once a glorious light 
 Among us, famous to an high degree : 
 Great was this son : indeed (to do him right) 
 As great and good (to say no more) as he. 
 A double portion of his father's spirit 
 Did this (his eldest) son, through grace, inherit. 
 
 His look commanded reverence and awe, 
 
 Though mild and amiable, not austere : 
 
 Well-humor'd was he as I ever saw 
 
 And rul'd by love and wisdom, more than fear, 
 The Muses, and the Graces too, conspir'd 
 To set forth this rare piece, to be admir'd, 
 
210 URIAN OAKES. 
 
 He govern' d well the tongue (that busy thing, 
 
 Unruly, lawless and pragmatical), 
 
 Gravely reserv'd, in speech not lavishing, 
 
 Neither too sparing, nor too liberal. 
 
 His words were few, well-season' d, wisely weigh' d, 
 And in his tongue the law of kindness sway'd. 
 
 Learned he was beyond the common size, 
 Befriended much by nature in his wit, 
 And temper (sweet, sedate, ingenious, wise), 
 And (which crown' d all) he was Heaven's favourite; 
 On whom the God of all Grace did command, 
 And show'r down blessings with a liberal hand. 
 
 Wise he, not wily, was ; grave, not morose ; 
 
 Not stiff, but steady ; serious, but not sour ; 
 
 Concern' d for all, as if he had no Foes ; 
 
 (Strange if he had !) and would not waste an hour. 
 Thoughtful and active for the common good : 
 And yet his own place wisely understood. 
 
 Large was his heart, to spend without regret, 
 Rejoicing to do good : not like those moles 
 That root i' th' earth, or roam abroad, to get 
 All for themselves (those sorry, narrow souls !) 
 But he, like th' sun (i' th' center, as some say) 
 DifFus'd his rays of goodness every way. 
 
 He breath' d love, and pursu'd peace in his day, 
 As if his soul were made of harmony : 
 Scarce ever more of goodness crowded lay 
 In such a piece of frail mortality. 
 
AN ELEGY. 211 
 
 Sure Father Wilson's genuine son was he, 
 New-England's Paul had such a Timothy. 
 
 No slave to th' world's grand idols ; but he flew 
 At fairer quarries, without stooping down 
 To sublunary prey : his great soul knew 
 Ambition none, but of the heavenly crown : 
 
 Now he hath won it, and shall wear 't with honor 
 Adoring grace, and God in Christ, the donor. 
 
 A friend to truth, a constant foe to error, 
 Powerful i' th' pulpit, and sweet in converse, 
 To weak ones gentle, to th' profane a terror, — 
 Who can his virtues and good works rehearse ? 
 The Scripture — Bishop's character read o're, 
 Say this was Shepard's : what need I say more ; 
 
 I say no more ; let them that can declare 
 His rich and rare endowments, paint this sun 
 With all its dazzling rays : but I despair, 
 Hopeless by any hand to see it done. 
 
 They that can Shepard's goodness well display 
 Must be as good as he ; but who are they ? 
 
 See where our Sister Charlestown sits and moans ! 
 
 Poor widow' d Charlestown ! all in dust, in tears ! 
 
 Mark how she wrings her hands ! hear how she groans ! 
 
 See how she weeps ! what sorrow like to hers ! 
 Charlestown, that might for joy compare of late 
 With all about her, now looks desolate. 
 
212 URIAN OAKES. 
 
 As you have seen some pale, wan, ghastly look, 
 When grisly death, that will not be said nay, 
 Hath seiz'd all for itself, possession took, 
 And turn'd the soul out of its house of clay : 
 
 So visag'd is poor Charlestown at this day ; 
 
 Shepard, her very soul, is torn away. 
 
 Cambridge groans under this so heavy cross, 
 
 And sympathizes with her Sister dear ; 
 
 Renews her griefs afresh for her old loss 
 
 Of her own Shepard, and drops many a tear. 
 
 Cambridge and Charlestown now joint mourners are, 
 And this tremendous loss between them share. 
 
 Must Learning's friend (ah ! worth us all) go thus ? 
 
 That great support to Harvard's nursery ! 
 
 Our Fellow (that no fellow had with us) 
 
 Is gone to Heaven's great University. 
 
 Ours now indeed' s a lifeless Corporation, 
 The soul is fled, that gave it animation ! 
 
 Poor Harvard's sons are in their mourning dress : 
 Their sure friend's gone ! their hearts have put on 
 
 mourning ; 
 Within their walls are sighs, tears, pensiveness ; 
 Their new foundations dread an overturning. 
 
 Harvard ! where' s such a fast friend left to thee ? 
 
 Unless thy great friend Leveret, it be. 
 
 We must not with our greatest Sovereign strive, 
 Who dare find fault with him that is most high ? 
 That hath an absolute prerogative. 
 And doth his pleasure : none may ask him, why ? 
 
AN ELEGY. 21 3 
 
 We're clay-lumps, dust-heaps, nothings in his sight : 
 The Judge of all the earth doth always right. 
 
 Ah ! could not prayers and tears prevail with God ! 
 
 Was there no warding off that dreadful blow ! 
 
 And was there no averting of that rod ! 
 
 Must Shepard die ! and that good angel go ! 
 Alas ! Our heinous sins (more than our hairs) 
 It seems, were louder, and out-cried our prayers. 
 
 See what our sins have done ! what ruins wrought 
 
 And how they have pluck' d out our very eyes ! 
 
 Our sins have slain our Shepard ! we have bought, 
 
 And dearly paid for, our enormities. 
 
 Ah, cursed sins ! that strike at God and kill 
 His servants, and the blood of prophets spill. 
 
 As you would loath the sword that's warm and red, 
 As you would hate the hands that are embrued 
 P th' heart' s-blood of your dearest friends : so dread, 
 And hate your sins ; Oh ! let them be pursued : 
 
 Revenges take on bloody sins : for there's 
 
 No refuge-city for these murtherers. 
 
 In vain we build the prophets' sepulchers, 
 
 In vain bedew their tombs with tears, when dead ; 
 
 In vain bewail the deaths of ministers, 
 
 Whilst prophet-killing sins are harbored. 
 
 Those that these murtherous traitors favor, hide ; 
 
 Are with the blood of Prophets deeply dy'd. 
 
 New- England ! know thy heart-plague : feel this 
 blow ; 
 
214 URIAN OAKES. 
 
 A blow that sorely wounds both head and heart, 
 A blow that reaches all, both high and low, 
 A blow that may be felt in every part. 
 
 Mourn that this great man's fallen in Israel : 
 Let it be said, '* with him New-England fell ! " 
 
 Farewell, dear Shepard ! Thou art gone before, 
 Made free of Heaven, where thou shalr"sing loud 
 
 hymns 
 Of high triumphant praises ever more, 
 In the sweet quire of saints and seraphims. 
 
 Lord ! look on us here, clogg'd with sin and clay, 
 And we, through grace, shall be as happy as they. 
 
 My dearest, inmost, bosom-friend is gone ! 
 Gone is my sweet companion, soul's delight ! 
 Now in an hud'ling crowd I'm all alone, 
 And almost could bid all the world " Goodnight." 
 
 Blest be my Rock ! God lives : O let him be, 
 
 As He is All, so All in All to me ! 
 
INCREASE MATHER. 
 
 Of the noted families of New England clergymen, 
 that of the Mathers is probably the most distinguished. 
 The founder of the family, Richard Mather, was 
 born in Lancashire, England, in I 596, and died in 
 Dorchester, Massachusetts, April 22, 1669. He 
 was a strong man and a typical clergyman, who 
 brought up six sons, four of whom were ministers. 
 We have already learned something of his labors in 
 connection with the Bay Psalm Book. Of his sons, 
 the youngest, Increase, who was born June 21, 1639, 
 at Dorchester, and died August 23, 1723, at Boston, 
 was the most famous. A passage to be given shortly 
 from the biography of him written by his still more 
 famous son, Cotton, will explain how he came by 
 his curious name, and will present some of his most 
 marked characteristics. He graduated at Harvard in 
 1656, and then at the request of his older brothers, 
 Samuel and Nathaniel, who were preachers in Ire- 
 land and England respectively, he crossed the 
 Atlantic, took his second degree at Trinity College, 
 Dublin, and received a ministerial charge in Devon- 
 shire. A little later he was made chaplain of a 
 garrison in Guernsey, but after the Restoration re- 
 turned to Massachusetts, and, in 1664, became 
 pastor of the new North Church in Boston, a posi- 
 tion which he held until his death. Here he soon 
 
 2I 5 
 
2l6 INCREASE MATHER. 
 
 established his reputation, not merely as a great 
 preacher, but as a great man. 
 
 Only a few important facts from his crowded 
 biography can be given here. He opposed every 
 liberal movement among the New England clergy, 
 but toward the close of his life w r as doomed to see 
 many innovations prevail. He took part in the 
 famous persecution of the witches, but was on the 
 whole conservative, more so than his son Cotton. 
 In 1 68 1 he was elected President of Harvard in suc- 
 cession to Uriari Oakes, but his church not being 
 willing to give him up, he resigned the office. Four 
 years latter, another vacancy occurring, an arrange- 
 ment was made by which he could still reside in 
 Boston, and he became President, holding the office 
 until 1 70 1, when his less orthodox opponents man- 
 aged by shrewd legislation to secure his retirement. 
 His most important services, however, were not as 
 clergyman, voluminous author, and college president, 
 but as agent for Massachusetts to King William III. 
 for the restoration of the Charter. This restoration 
 could not be accomplished, but he secured a new 
 Charter which lasted to the Revolution, and he won 
 the confidence of the King and of his fellow-citizens. 
 In his last years, as we have noted, he found his con- 
 servative influence waning, but as our extract from 
 his son's book will show, he died as full of honors 
 as of years. 
 
 Throughout his life Increase Mather kept the 
 printing-press busy ; the titles of his works are said 
 to amount to no less than one hundred and thirty-six. 
 Of course most of these productions were sermons, 
 but not a few of them were important books written 
 
THE WRITING OF HISTORY. 21 J 
 
 in English of considerable vigor and displaying vast 
 learning. Among the most noteworthy are A His- 
 tory of the War with the Indians (1676), A Rela- 
 tion of Troubles of New England from the Indians 
 (1677), An Essay for the Recording of Illustrious 
 Providences (1684), and Cases of Conscience (1693). 
 The two latter works may be obtained in the * ' Li- 
 brary of Old Authors" ; new editions of the two 
 former were brought out by Samuel G. Drake in 
 1862 and 1864. A good account of Increase 
 Mather's life is given in Professor Barrett Wendell's 
 biography of Cotton Mather. 
 
 CONCERNING THE WRITING OF HIS- 
 TORY. 
 
 [From the Preface to "A Brief History of 
 the War with the Indians in New England." 
 1676.] 
 
 . . . And I hope that in one thing (though it 
 may be in little else) I have performed the part of an 
 historian, viz. in endeavoring to relate things truly 
 and impartially, and doing the best I could that I 
 might not lead the reader into a mistake. History 
 is indeed in itself a profitable study. Learned men 
 know that Polybius, and the great Philosopher call it, 
 AA.?7#ii/a)TaT77V Traiheiav /cat xPV (TL f JLr ] v yvfJivaartxiv. 
 And there is Holy Scripture to encourage a work of 
 this nature ; For what was the Book of the Wars of 
 the Lord? Num. 21. 14. And that book ofjasher, 
 which we read of in Joshua and in Samuel ? Yea, 
 
2l8 INCREASE MATHER. 
 
 the book of the Chronicles, mentioned in the book 
 of Kings (for we find not some of those things re- 
 ferred unto in the canonical book of Chronicles. ) 
 What were these books but the faithful records of the 
 providential dispensations of God in the days of old ? 
 Yea, and it is proper for the ministers of God, to 
 engage themselves in services of this nature ; Witness 
 the History or Commentary ETYTb of the Prophet Iddo, 
 2 Chro. 13. 22. Whether my defective manner of 
 management in this history renders it unprofitable, I 
 know not. Considering the other employments that 
 are always upon me, together with my personal in- 
 abilities, I have cause to suspect it may be so in a 
 great measure. If any one shall hereby be incited 
 to do better, I hope I shall rather thank than envy 
 him, 7r\c6v(nv Ipyov d/xetvov. And I earnestly wish 
 that some effectual course may be taken (before it be 
 too late) that a just History of New England be 
 written and published to the world. That is a thing 
 that hath often been spoken of, but was never done 
 to this day, and yet the longer it is deferred, the more 
 difficulty will there be in effecting of it. 
 
 THE HAND OF GOD. 
 
 [From <( An Essay for the Recording of Illus- 
 trious Providences." 1684.] 
 
 It hath been by many observed, that men addicted 
 to horrid cursings and execrations have pulled down 
 the imprecated vengeance of Heaven upon themselves. 
 Sundry very awful examples of this kind have lately 
 happened : I shall here mention one or two. 
 
THE HAND OF GOD. 219 
 
 The hand of God was very remarkable in that 
 which came to pass in the Narragansett country in 
 New England, not many weeks since ; for I have 
 good information, that on August 28, 1683, a man 
 there (viz. Samuel Wilson) having caused his dog to 
 mischief his neighbor's cattle was blamed for his so 
 doing. He denied the fact with imprecations, wish- 
 ing that he might never stir from that place if he had 
 so done. His neighbor being troubled at his denying 
 the truth, reproved him, and told him he did very ill 
 to deny what his conscience knew to be truth. The 
 atheist thereupon used the name of God in his impre- 
 cations, saying, " He wished to God he might never 
 stir out of that place, if he had done that which he 
 was charged with." The words were scarce out of 
 his mouth before he sunk down dead, and never stirred 
 more ; a son-in-law of his standing by and catching 
 him as he fell to the ground. 
 
 A thing not unlike this happened (though not in 
 New England yet) in America, about a year ago ; 
 for in September, 1682, a man at the Isle of Provi- 
 dence, belonging to a vessel, whereof one Wollery 
 was master, being charged with some deceit in a mat- 
 ter that had been committed to him, in order to his 
 own vindication, horridly wished "that the devil 
 might put out his eyes if he had done as was sus- 
 pected concerning him." That very night a rheum 
 fell into his eyes, so that within a few days he became 
 stark blind. His company being astonished at the 
 Divine hand which thus conspicuously and signally 
 appeared, put him ashore at Providence, and left him 
 there. A physician being desired to undertake his 
 cure, hearing how he came to lose his sight, refused 
 
220 INCREASE MATHER. 
 
 to meddle with him. This account I lately received 
 from credible persons, who knew and have often seen 
 the man whom the devil (according to his own wicked 
 wish) made blind, through the dreadful and righteou? 
 judgment of God. 
 
 PREPARATION FOR JUDGMENT. 
 
 [From "The Greatest Sinners exhorted and 
 encouraged to come to christ, and that 
 now without delaying." i 686. j 
 
 Consider. 3. That as death leaveth a man, so 
 judgment will find him. All the time which men 
 have to prepare for judgment is only whilst they are 
 in this world. There is no work in the grave whither 
 thou goest. For there is a particular judgment passeth 
 upon every soul at death. Heb. 9, 27. It is 
 appointed unto men once to die, but after this the 
 judgment. When once a man's soul is out of his 
 body, it appears before the judge of all, and is sen- 
 tenced either to life or death forever; which particu- 
 lar judgment will be published at the Last Day. If 
 death find a man unprepared, so will judgment. 
 Therefore it highly concerns every man to prepare 
 now. Miserable sinner, thou knowest not how soon 
 death may come upon thee like an armed man, and 
 drag thy soul before the judgment seat of GOD ! 
 It may be this night it will be so. Death sometimes 
 giveth no warning before it comes. Remember that 
 Scripture, Amos 4. 11. I have overthrown some 
 of you, as God overthrew Sodom and Gomorrah. 
 
PREPARATION FOR JUDGMENT. 221 
 
 And how was that ? Verily by thunder and light- 
 ning from Heaven. And has it not been so amongst 
 us also ? There have been (to my observation) about 
 twenty persons in this land, who have at several times 
 and places been killed with lightning, some such very 
 lately. Therefore if God fell upon them and struck 
 them dead in a moment, how dost thou know but 
 that it may be so with thee ? If thou continuest 
 unprepared for death and judgment, thou knowest 
 not but that the next thunderstorm that cometh may 
 prove to thy soul, as snares and fire, and brimstone, 
 and an horrible tempest. 
 
 Consider^ 4. As judgment shall find a man so 
 it will be with him to all eternity. Eternity will 
 fasten its iron teeth upon thy soul then., Hence the 
 Scripture speaketh of Eternal Judgment, Heb. 6 C 2. 
 because men shall then be judged to an eternal estate 
 either of weal or of woe. The wicked shall then 
 go away into everlasting punishment, and the right- 
 eous into life eternal. If judgment find a man in a 
 good estate he shall be for ever with the Lord, he shall 
 be where there is fulness of joy, and pleasures for 
 evermore. But if judgment find him in his sins, he 
 shall be cast into a dungeon out of which he shall 
 never come, even into blackness of darkness for ever. 
 O think of this one word, If judgment find thee in 
 thy sins ; after thou hast been in misery as many mill- 
 ions of ages as there have been days and minutes 
 since the world began, thou art no nearer to an end 
 of thy misery than thou wast the first hour that the 
 Son of God passed on thee a sentence of eternal death. 
 
222 INCREASE MATHER. 
 
 STRANGE CERTAINTIES FROM SCRIP- 
 TURE AND HISTORY. 
 
 [From " Cases of Conscience concerning Evil 
 Spirits." 1693.] 
 
 Ar[gument] 4. It is certain both from Scripture 
 and history, that magicians by their enchantments and 
 hellish conjurations may cause a false representation 
 of persons and things. An enchanted eye shall see 
 such things as others cannot discern ; it is a thing too 
 well known to be denied, that some by rubbing their 
 eyes with a bewitched water have immediately there- 
 upon seen that which others could not discern ; and 
 there are persons in the world, who have a strange 
 spectral sight. Mr. Glanvil speaks of a Dutchman 
 that could see ghosts which others could perceive 
 nothing of. There are in Spain a sort of men whom 
 they call Zahurs, these can see into the bowels of the 
 earth ; they are able to discover minerals and hidden 
 treasures ; nevertheless, they have their extraordinary 
 sight only on Tuesdays and Fridays, and not on the 
 other days of the week. Delrio saith, that when he 
 was at Madrid, Anno Dom. 1575, he saw some of 
 these strange sighted creatures. Mr. George Sin- 
 clare, in his book entituled " Satan's Invisible World 
 Discovered," has these words, " I am undoubtedly 
 informed, that men and women in the High-lands 
 can discern fatality approaching others, by seeing 
 them in the water or with winding sheets about them. 
 And that others can lecture in a sheep's shoulder- 
 bone a death within the parish seven or eight days 
 
STRANGE CERTAINTIES. 
 
 223 
 
 before it come. It is not improbable but that such a 
 preternatural knowledge comes first by a compact 
 with the devil, and is derived downward by succes- 
 sion to their posterity. Many such I suppose are 
 innocent, and have this sight against their will and 
 inclination." Thus Mr. Sinclare. 1 concur with 
 his supposal, that such knowledge is originally from 
 Satan, and perhaps the effect of some old enchant- 
 ment. There are some at this day in the world, 
 that if they come into a house where one of the 
 family will die within a fortnight, the smell of a 
 dead corpse offends them to such a degree, as that 
 they cannot stay in that house. It is reported that 
 near unto the Abbey of Maurice in Burgundy there is 
 a fish-pond in which are fishes put according to the 
 number of the monks of that place ; if any one of 
 them happened to be sick, there is a fish seen to 
 float and swim above water half dead, and if the 
 monk shall die, the fish a few days before dieth. In 
 some parts in Wales death-lights or corpse candles 
 (as they call them) are seen in the night time going 
 from the house where some body will shortly die, 
 and passing in to the churchyard. Of this, my hon- 
 ored and never to be forgotten friend, Mr. Richard 
 Baxter, has given an account in his book about witch- 
 crafts lately published : what to make of such things, 
 except they be the effect of some old enchantment, I 
 know not ; nor what natural reason to assign for that 
 which I find amongst the Observations of the Im- 
 perial Academy for the year 1687, viz. that in an 
 orchard where are choice Damascen plums, the 
 master of the family being sick of a quartan ague, 
 whilst he continued very ill, four of his plum-trees 
 
224 INCREASE MATHER. 
 
 instead of Damascens brought forth a vile sort of 
 yellow plums : but recovering health, the next year 
 the tree did (as formerly) bear Damascens again; 
 but when after that he fell into a fatal dropsy, on 
 those trees were seen not Damascens, but another 
 sort of fruit. The same author gives instances of 
 which he had the certain knowledge, concerning 
 apple-trees and pear-trees, that the fruit of them 
 would on a sudden wither as if they had been baked 
 in an oven, when the owners of them were mortally 
 sick. It is no less strange that in the illustrious 
 Electoral House of Brandenburg before the death of 
 some one of the family feminine spectres appeared. 
 And often in the houses of great men, voices and 
 visions from the invisible world have been the har- 
 bingers of death. When any heir in the worshipful 
 family of the Breertons in Cheshire is near his death, 
 there are seen in a pool adjoining, bodies of trees 
 swimming for certain days together, on which learned 
 Camden has this note, 'f These and such like things 
 are done either by the holy tutelar angels of men, or 
 else by the devils, who by God's permission mightily 
 show their power in this inferior world." As for 
 Mr. Sinclare's notion that some persons may have a 
 second sight (as 'tis termed), and yet be themselves 
 innocent, I am satisfied that he judgeth right ; for 
 this is common amongst the Laplanders, who are 
 horribly addicted to magical incantations. They 
 bequeath their daemons to their children as a legacy, 
 by whom they are often assisted (like bewitched 
 persons as they are) to see and do things beyond 
 the power of nature. An historian who deserves 
 credit relates, that a certain Laplander gave him a 
 
STRANGE CERTAINTIES. 225 
 
 true and particular account of what had happened to 
 him in his journey to Lapland ; and further com- 
 plained to him with tears, that things at great distance 
 were represented to him, and how much he desired 
 to be delivered from that diabolical sight, but could 
 not ; this doubtless was caused by some enchantment. 
 But to proceed to what I intend ; the eyes of per- 
 sons, by reason of enchanting charms, may not only 
 see what others do not, but be under such power of 
 fascination, as that things which are not shall appear 
 to them as real. The apostle speaks of bewitched 
 eyes, Gal. iii. 1, and we know from Scripture, that 
 the imaginations of men have by enchantments been 
 imposed upon ; and histories abound with very strange 
 instances of this nature. The old witch Circe by an 
 enchanted cup caused Ulysses his companions to im- 
 agine themselves to be turned into swine ; and how 
 many witches have been themselves so bewitched by 
 the devil, as really to believe that they were trans- 
 formed into wolves, or dogs, or cats. It is reported 
 of Simon Magus, that by his sorceries he would so 
 impose on the imaginations of people, as that they 
 thought- he had really changed himself into another 
 sort of creature. Apollonius of Tyana could outdo 
 Simon with his magic. The great Bohemian con- 
 jurer Zyto by his enchantments caused certain per- 
 sons whom he had a mind to try his art upon, to 
 imagine that their hands were turned into the feet of 
 an ox, or into the hoofs of a horse, so that they could 
 not reach to the dishes before them to take any thing 
 thence ; he sold wisps of straw to a butcher who 
 bought them for swine ; that many such prestigious 
 pranks were played by the unhappy Faustus, is at- 
 
226 INCREASE MATHER. 
 
 tested by Camerarius, Wyerus, Voetius, Lavater, and 
 Lonicer. 
 
 There is newly published a book (mentioned in the 
 Acta Eruditorum') wherein the author (Wiechard 
 Valvassor) relates, that a Venetian Jew instructed 
 him (only he would not attend his instructions) how 
 to make a magical glass which should represent any 
 person or thing according as he should desire. If a 
 magician by an enchanted glass can do this, he may 
 as well by the help of a daemon cause false idasas of 
 persons and things to be impressed on the imaginations 
 of bewitched persons ; the blood and spirits of a man, 
 that is bitten with a mad-dog, are so envenomed, as 
 that strange impressions are thereby made on his 
 imagination. Let him be brought into a room where 
 there is a looking-glass, and he will (if put upon it) 
 not only say but swear that he sees a dog, though in 
 truth there is no dog it may be within 20 miles of 
 him ; and is it not then possible for the dogs of hell 
 to poison the imagination of miserable creatures, so as 
 that they shall believe and swear that such persons 
 hurt them as never did so ? I have heard of an 
 enchanted pin, that has caused the condemnation and 
 death of many scores of innocent persons. There 
 was a notorious witchfinder in Scotland, that under- 
 took by a pin, to make an infallible discovery of sus- 
 pected persons, whether they were witches or not, if 
 when the pin was run an inch or two into the body of 
 the accused party, no blood appeared, nor any sense 
 of pain, then he declared them to be witches ; by 
 means hereof my author tells me no less than 300 
 persons were condemned for witches in that king- 
 dom. This bloody juggler, after he had done 
 
FALSE CONFESSIONS. 227 
 
 enough in Scotland, came to the town of Berwick 
 upon Tweed ; an honest man now living in New- 
 England assureth me, that he saw the man thrust a 
 great brass pin two inches into the body of one, that 
 some would in that way try whether there was witch- 
 craft in the case or no : the accused party was not in 
 the least sensible of what was done, and therefore in 
 danger of receiving the punishment justly due for 
 witchcraft ; only it so happened, that Colonel Fen- 
 wick (that worthy gentleman, who many years since 
 lived in New-England) was then the military gov- 
 ernor in that town ; he sent for the mayor and magis- 
 trates advising them to be careful and cautious in their 
 proceedings ; for he told them, it might be an 
 enchanted pin, which the witchfinder made use of: 
 Whereupon the magistrates of the place ordered that 
 he should make his experiment with some other- pin 
 as they should appoint : But that he would by no 
 means be induced unto, which was a sufficient dis- 
 covery of the knavery and witchery of the witchfinder. 
 
 FALSE CONFESSIONS OF WITCHES. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 I could mention dismal instances of innocent blood 
 which has been shed by means of the lies of some 
 confessing witches ; there is a very sad story men- 
 tioned in the preface to the relation of the witchcrafts 
 in Sweedland, how that in the year 1676, at Stock- 
 holm, a young woman accused her own mother (who 
 had indeed been a very bad woman, but not guilty of 
 
228 INCREASE MATHER. 
 
 witchcraft), and swore that she had carried her to the 
 nocturnal meetings of witches, upon which the mother 
 was burnt to death. Soon after the daughter came 
 crying and howling before the judges in open court, 
 declaring that to be revenged on her mother for an 
 offence received, she had falsely accused her with a 
 crime which she was not guilty of; for which she 
 also was justly executed. A most wicked man in 
 France freely confessed himself to be a magician, 
 and accused many others, whose lives were thereupon 
 taken from them ; and a whole province had like to 
 have been ruined thereby, but the impostor was 
 discovered. The confessing pretended wizard was 
 burnt at Paris in the year 1668. I shall only take 
 notice further of an awful example mentioned by 
 A. B. Spotswood in his History of Scotland, p. 449. 
 His words are these: "This summer (viz. Anno 
 1597), there was a great business for the trial of 
 witches, amongst others, one Margaret Atkin being 
 apprehended on suspicion, and threatened with tor- 
 ture, did confess herself guilty ; being examined 
 touching her associates in that trade, she named a 
 few, and perceiving her delations find credit, made 
 offer to detect all of that sort, and to purge the 
 country of them ; so she might have her life granted. 
 For the reason of her knowledge, she said, ' That 
 they had a secret mark all of that sort in their eyes, 
 whereby she could surely tell, how soon she looked 
 upon any, whether they were witches or not ' ; and 
 in this she was so readily believed, that for the space 
 of 3 or 4 months she was carried from town to town 
 to make discoveries in that kind ; many were brought 
 in question by her delations, especially at Glasgow, 
 
FALSE CONFESSIONS. 229 
 
 where divers innocent women, through the credulity 
 of the minister Mr. John Cowper, were condemned 
 and put to death ; in the end she was found to be a 
 mere deceiver, and sent back to Fife, where she was 
 first apprehended. At her trial she affirmed all to be 
 false that she had confessed of herself or others, and 
 persisted in this to her death, which made many fore- 
 think their too great forwardness that way, and moved 
 the king to recall his commission given out against such 
 persons, discharging all proceedings against them, 
 except in case of a voluntary confession, till a solid 
 order should be taken by the estates touching the 
 form that should be kept in their trial." Thus 
 that famous historian. 
 
 2. If two credible persons shall affirm upon oath 
 that they have seen the party accused speaking such 
 words, or doing things which none but such as have 
 familiarity with the devil ever did or can do, that's 
 a sufficient ground for conviction. 
 
 Some are ready to say, that wizards are not so 
 unwise as to do such things in the sight or hearing 
 of others, but it is certain that they have very often 
 been known to do so. How often have they been 
 seen by others using enchantments ? Conjuring to 
 raise storms ? And have been heard calling upon 
 their familiar spirits ? And have been known to 
 use spells and charms ? And to shew in a glass or 
 in a shew-stone persons absent ? And to reveal 
 secrets which could not be discovered but by the 
 devil ? And have not men been seen to do things 
 which are above human strength, that no man living 
 could do without diabolical assistances ? Claudia was 
 seen by witnesses enough to draw a ship which no 
 
230 INCREASE MATHER. 
 
 human strength could move. Tuccia a vestal virgin 
 was seen to carry water in a sieve. The devil never 
 assists men to do supernatural things undesired. When 
 therefore such like things shall be testified against the 
 accused party, not by spectres which are devils in the 
 shape of persons either living or dead, but by real 
 men or women who may be credited, it is proof 
 enough that such an one has that conversation and 
 correspondence with the devil, as that he or she, 
 whoever they be, ought to be exterminated from 
 amongst men. This notwithstanding I will add : 
 ft were better that ten suspected witches should 
 escape, than that one innocent person should be 
 condemned. 
 
 . . . That is an old saying, and true, Prestat 
 reum nocentem absolvi, quam ex prohibitis bidiciis & 
 illegitima probatione condemnari. It is better that a 
 guilty person should be absolved, than that he should 
 without sufficient ground of conviction be condemned. 
 I had rather judge a witch to be an honest woman, 
 than judge an honest woman as a witch. The word 
 of God directs men not to proceed to the execution 
 of the most capital offenders, until such time as, upon 
 searching diligently, the matter is found to be a truth , 
 and the thing certain, Deut. 13, 14, 15. 
 
COTTON MATHER. 
 
 This most distinguished of all the Mathers was 
 born in Boston, February 12, 1663, and died 
 there February 13, 1728, surviving his great father, 
 Increase, not quite five years. He was a prodigy of 
 learning from his youth, graduating from Harvard 
 when less than sixteen, and beginning to preach 
 before he was eighteen, but not before he had cured 
 himself from stammering. In 1684 he became an 
 associate pastor with his father in the North Church. 
 Here he did most useful work of a philanthropic nature, 
 combatting intemperance and other social evils. 
 This phase of his career is summed up in his widely 
 read book, Essays to do Good ( 1 7 10). Unfortunately 
 most of his books are written in such a quaint style, 
 and have such fantastic titles, and his chief work, 
 the ecclesiastical history of New England, entitled 
 Mag?ialia Chris ti Americana (1702), is so monu- 
 mental a production, that as a writer Cotton Mather 
 has a less reputation among modern readers than he 
 deserves. The chief part of his fame also is far from 
 being based on anything philanthropic. He is best 
 known for the share he took in the persecution of the 
 witches, and while it is most likely that the charges 
 brought against him by his opponents were much 
 exaggerated, it is quite clear that he did not exercise 
 ordinary prudence in his relations with those supposed 
 231 
 
232 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 to be possessed. He was himself an ascetic who had 
 visions, and he was a pedant scholar who believed 
 firmly in what had been handed down from the past ; 
 in consequence he was quite ready to credit the most 
 marvellous of the stories told about the unfortunate 
 victims of popular frenzy. Till the last he believed 
 confidently that he had done God service in the 
 deplorable affair. It is more to his credit to-day that 
 he was among the earliest and most unflinching advo- 
 cates of inoculation for smallpox. 
 
 It is impossible to do justice here to Mather's com- 
 plex character. He was very vain, yet from his 
 earliest youth he was trained and trained himself to be 
 self-conscious, and he was always subjected to a great 
 deal of adulation. He had many domestic misfor- 
 tunes, yet he bore up bravely under them. He was 
 pedantic and fantastic, yet his industry was enormous, 
 and his learning nothing short of colossal. He had 
 many opponents who managed to keep the presidency 
 of Harvard out of his grasp, and to thwart him in 
 many ways, yet, as we have seen, he was one of the 
 earliest of our philanthropists, his example in this 
 respect stimulating Benjamin Franklin himself. But 
 this active man was all the while a visionary who in- 
 dulged in vigils and fasts to the point of extravagance, 
 and who actually never coughed or washed his hands 
 without a private prayer or pious ejaculation. 
 
 As a scholar and writer Cotton Mather was the 
 most celebrated American colonial before the days of 
 Franklin. He was a fellow of the Royal Society, 
 and conducted a large correspondence with learned 
 foreigners. His productions, many of them sermons 
 of course, run up to or pass the prodigious number of 
 
ORIGIN OF WITCHCRAFT. 233 
 
 four hundred titles, and there are voluminous diaries 
 and treatises by him that are still in manuscript. He 
 has been called, with not a little truth, a *< literary 
 behemoth," but he was also on the whole a great 
 writer whose Magnalia is the most important work 
 of its epoch, and many of whose minor writings may 
 be read with interest and profit, especially the quaint 
 Parentator (1724), in which he described the life 
 of his father, and The Wonders of the Invisible 
 World (1693), his chief contribution to the literature 
 of the witchcraft delusion. His son, Samuel, wrote 
 a very dull life of him in 1729, but he has been 
 fortunate in finding in Professor Barrett Wendell a 
 most sympathetic and competent biographer. 
 
 THE ORIGIN OF WITCHCRAFT IN NEW 
 ENGLAND. 
 
 [From "The Wonders of the Invisible World." 
 1693.] 
 
 We have been advised by some credible Christians 
 yet alive, that a malefactor, accused of witchcraft as 
 well as murder, and executed in this place more than 
 forty years ago, did then give notice of an horrible 
 plot against the country by witchcraft, and a founda- 
 tion of witchcraft then laid, which if it were not 
 seasonably discovered would probably blow up and 
 pull down all the churches in the country. And we 
 have now with horror seen the discovery of such a 
 witchcraft ! An army of devils is horribly broke in 
 upon the place which is the centre, and, after a sort, 
 
234 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 the first-born of our English settlements ; and the 
 houses of the good people there are MU'd with the 
 doleful shrieks of their children and servants, tor- 
 mented by invisible hands, with tortures altogether 
 preternatural. After the mischiefs there endeavored, 
 and since in part conquered, the terrible plague, of 
 evil angels, hath made its progress into some other 
 places, where other persons have been in like manner 
 diabolically handled. These our poor afflicted neigh- 
 bors, quickly after they become infected and infested 
 with these daemons, arrive to a capacity of discern- 
 ing those which they conceive the shapes of their 
 troublers ; and notwithstanding the great and just sus- 
 picion, that the daemons might impose the shapes of 
 innocent persons in their spectral exhibitions upon the 
 sufferers (which may perhaps prove no small part of 
 the witch-plot in the issue), yet many of the persons 
 thus represented being examined, several of them have 
 been convicted of a very damnable witchcraft. Yea, 
 more than one twenty have confessed that they have 
 signed unto a book which the devil show'd them, 
 and engaged in his hellish design of bewitching and 
 ruining our land. We know not, at least I know 
 not, how far the delusions of Satan may be inter- 
 woven into some circumstances of the confessions ; 
 but One would think all the rules of understanding 
 human affairs are at an end, if after so many most 
 voluntary harmonious confessions, made by intelligent 
 persons of all ages, in sundry towns, at several times, 
 we must not believe the main strokes wherein those 
 confessions all agree ; especially when we have a 
 thousand preternatural things every day before our 
 eyes, wherein the confessors do acknowledge their 
 
ORIGIN OF WITCHCRAFT. 235 
 
 concernment, and give demonstration of their being 
 so concerned. If the devils now can strike the 
 minds of men with any poisons of so fine a composi- 
 tion and operation, that scores of innocent people 
 shall unite in confessions of a crime which we see 
 actually committed, it is a thing prodigious, beyond 
 the wonders of the former ages, and it threatens no 
 less than a sort of dissolution upon the world. Now, 
 by these confessions 'tis agreed that the devil has 
 made a dreadful knot of witches in the country, and 
 by the help of witches has dreadfully increased that 
 knot ; that these witches have driven a trade commis- 
 sioning their confederate spirits, to do all sorts of mis- 
 chiefs to the neighbors, whereupon there have ensued 
 such mischievous consequences upon the bodies and 
 estates of the neighborhood, as could not otherwise 
 be accounted for. Yea, that at prodigious witch- 
 meetings, the wretches have proceeded so far as to 
 concert and consult the methods of rooting out the 
 Christian religion from this country, and setting up 
 instead of it, perhaps a more gross diabolism than 
 ever the world saw before. And yet it will be a 
 thing little short of miracle, if in so spread a business 
 as this, the devil should not get in some of his juggles 
 to confound the discovery of all the rest. . . . 
 
 X 
 
236 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 CONCERNING THE DEVIL. 
 
 [From a Discourse on "The Wonders of the 
 Invisible World." Uttered (in Part) '\n 
 August 4, 1692. Printed in the Above.] 
 
 That there is a devil, is a thing doubted by none 
 but such as are under the influences of the devil. 
 For any to deny the being of a devil must be from 
 an ignorance or profaneness, worse than diabolical. 
 A devil. What is that? We have a definition of 
 the monster, in Eph. vi. 12. A spiritual wicked- 
 ness, that is, a wicked spirit. A devil is a fallen 
 angel, an angel fallen from the fear and love of God, 
 and from all celestial glories ; but fallen to all manner 
 of wretchedness and cursedness. He was once in 
 that order of heavenly creatures which God in the 
 beginning made ministering spirits, for his own pecu- 
 liar service and honor, in the management of the 
 universe ; but we may now write that epitaph upon 
 him, " How art thou fallen from heaven ! thou hast 
 said in thine heart, I will exalt my throne above the 
 stars of God ; but thou art brought down to hell ! " 
 A devil is a spiritual and rational substance, by his 
 apostacy from God inclined unto all that is vicious, 
 and for that apostacy confined unto the atmosphere 
 of this earth, in chains unto darkness, unto the judge- 
 ment of the great day. This is a devil ; and the 
 experience of mankind, as well as the testimony of 
 Scripture, does abundantly prove the existence of such 
 a devil. . . . 
 
 First, then, 'tis to be granted ; the devils are so 
 
CONCERNING THE DEVIL. 237 
 
 many, that some thousands can sometimes at once 
 apply themselves to vex one child of man. It is said, 
 in Mark v. 15, he that was possessed with the devil 
 had the legion. Dreadful to be spoken ! A legion 
 consisted of twelve thousand five hundred people ; 
 and we see that in one man or two, so many devils 
 can be spared for a garrison. As the prophet cried 
 out, " Multitudes, multitudes, in the Valley of Deci- 
 sion !" So I say, there are multitudes, multitudes, 
 in the valley of destruction, where the devils are ! 
 When we speak of the devil, 'tis a name of multi- 
 tude ; it means not one individual devil, so potent 
 and scient, as perhaps a Manichee would imagine ; 
 but it means a kind which a multitude belongs unto. 
 Alas, the devils they swarm about us, like the frogs of 
 Egypt, in the most retired of our chambers. Are we 
 at our boards ? There will be devils to tempt us 
 unto sensuality. Are we in our beds ? There will 
 be devils to tempt us unto carnality. Are we in our 
 shops ? There will be devils to tempt us unto dis- 
 honesty. Yea, though we get into the church of 
 God, there will be devils to haunt us in the very 
 temple itself, and there tempt us to manifold misbe- 
 haviors. I am verily persuaded that there are very 
 few human affairs whereinto some devils are not in- 
 sinuated. There is not so much as a journey intended, 
 but Satan will have an hand in hindering or furthering 
 of it. 
 
 Secondly, 'Tis to be supposed, that there is a sort 
 of arbitrary, even military government, among the 
 devils. This is intimated, when in Mar. v. 9, the 
 unclean spirit said, " My name is Legion." They 
 are such a discipline as legions use to be. Hence we 
 
238 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 read about the prince of the powers of the air. Our 
 air has a power ? or an army of devils in the high 
 places of it ; and these devils have a prince over them, 
 who is king over the children of pride. 'Tis proba- 
 ble that the devil, who was the ringleader of that 
 mutinous and rebellious crew which first shook off the 
 authority of God, is now the general of those hellish 
 armies ; our Lord that conquered him has told us the 
 name of him ; 'tis Belzebub ; 'tis he that is the devil 
 and the rest are his angels, or his soldiers. Think 
 on vast regiments of cruel and bloody French dra- 
 goons, with an intendant over them, overrunning a 
 pillaged neighborhood, and you will think a little what 
 the constitution among the devils is. 
 
 Thirdly, 'tis to be supposed that some devils are 
 more peculiarly commission' d, and perhaps qualify' d, 
 for some countries, while others are for others. This 
 is intimated when in Mar. v. 10, the devils besought 
 our Lord much, that he would not send them away 
 out of the country. Why was that ? But in all 
 probability, because these devils were more able to do 
 the work of the devil, in such a country, than in 
 another. It is not likely that every devil does know 
 every language ; or that every devil can do every 
 mischief. 'Tis possible that the experience, or, if I 
 may call it so, the education of all devils is not alike, 
 and that there may be some difference in their abili- 
 ties. If one might make an inference from what the 
 devils do, to what they are, one cannot forbear dream- 
 ing that there are degrees of devils. Who can allow 
 that such trifling daemons, as that of Mascon, or those 
 that once infested our Newberry, are of so much 
 grandeur, as those daemons, whose games are mighty 
 
WITCH TRIALS. 239 
 
 kingdoms? Yea, 'tis certain, that all devils do not 
 make a like figure in the invisible world. Nor does 
 it look agreeably that the demons, which were the 
 familiars of such a man as the old Apollonius, differ 
 not from those baser goblins that choose to nest in 
 the filthy and loathsome rags of a beastly sorceress. 
 Accordingly, why may not some devils be more ac- 
 complished for what is to be done in such and such 
 places, when others must be detach' d for other terri- 
 tories ? Each devil, as he sees his advantage, cries 
 out, " Let me be in this couutry, rather than another." 
 But enough, if not too much, of these things. . . . 
 
 SOME OF THE EVIDENCE AT THE 
 WITCH TRIALS. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 from the trial of george burroughs. 
 
 Glad should I have been if I had never known the 
 name of this man ; or never had this occasion to men- 
 tion so much as the first letters of his name. But 
 the government requiring some account of his trial to 
 be inserted in this book, it becomes me with all obedi- 
 ence to submit unto the order. 
 
 This G. B. was indicted for witch-craft, and in 
 the prosecution of the charge against him he was ac- 
 cused by five or six of the bewitched, as the author 
 of their miseries ; he was accused by eight of the con- 
 fessing witches, as being a head actor at some of their 
 hellish randezvouzes, and one who had the promise 
 
240 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 of being a king in Satan's kingdom, now going to be 
 erected. He was accused by nine persons for ex- 
 traordinary lifting, and such feats of strength as could 
 not be done without a diabolical assistance. And for 
 other such things he was accused, until about thirty tes- 
 timonies were brought in against him ; nor were these 
 judg'd the half of what might have been considered 
 for his conviction. However they were enough to 
 fix the character of a witch upon him according to 
 the rules of reasoning, by the judicious Gaule, in that 
 case directed. . . . 
 
 The testimonies of the other sufferers concurred with 
 these ; and it was remarkable that, whereas biting was 
 one of the ways which the witches used for the vex- 
 ing of the sufferers, when they cry'd out of G. B. 
 biting them, the print of the teeth would be seen on 
 the flesh of the complainers, and just such a set of 
 teeth as G. B.'s would then appear upon them, which 
 could be distinguished from those of some other men's. 
 Others of them testified that in their torments G. B. 
 tempted them to go unto a sacrament, unto which 
 they perceived him with a sound of trumpet summon- 
 ing of other witches, who quickly after the sound 
 would come from all quarters unto the rendezvous. 
 One of them falling into a kind of trance affirmed that 
 G. B. had carried her away into a very high moun- 
 tain, where he shewed her mighty and glorious king- 
 doms, and said, '* He would give them all to her, if 
 she would write in his book" ; but she told him, 
 ** They were none of his to give " ; and refused the 
 motions ; enduring of much misery for that refusal. 
 
 It cost the Court a wonderful deal of trouble, to 
 hear the testimonies of the sufferers ; for when they 
 
WITCH TRIALS. 24 1 
 
 were going to give in their depositions, they would 
 for a long time be taken with fits that made them 
 uncapable of saying any thing. The chief judge 
 asked the prisoner, who he thought hindered these 
 witnesses from giving their testimonies. And he an- 
 swered, "He supposed it was the devil." That 
 honorable person replied, "How comes the devil 
 then to be so loath to have any testimony borne 
 against you ? ' ' Which cast him into very great 
 confusion. . . . 
 
 Accordingly several of the bewitched had given in 
 their testimony, that they had been troubled with the 
 apparitions of two women, who said that they were 
 G. B.'s two wives, and that he had been the death 
 of them ; and that the magistrates must be told of it, 
 before whom if B. upon his trial denied it, that they 
 did not know but that they should appear again in 
 court. Now G. B. had been infamous for the bar- 
 barous usage of his two late wives, all the country 
 over. Moreover, it was testified, the spectre of 
 G. B. threatening of the sufferers told them he had 
 killed (besides others) Mrs. Lawson and her daughter 
 Ann. And it was noted, that these were the vir- 
 tuous wife and daughter of one at whom this G. B. 
 might have a prejudice for his being serviceable at 
 Salem Village, from whence himself had in ill terms 
 removed some years before ; and that when they 
 died, which was long since, there were some odd 
 circumstances about them, which made some of the 
 attendants there suspect something of witch-craft, 
 though none imagined from what quarter it should 
 come. 
 
 Well, G. B. being now upon his trial, one of 
 
242 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 the bewitched persons was cast into horror at the 
 ghost of B's two deceased wives then appearing be- 
 fore him, and crying for vengeance against him. 
 Hereupon several of the bewitched persons were suc- 
 cessively called in, who all, not knowing what the 
 former had seen and said, concurred in their horror 
 of the apparition, which they affirmed that he had 
 before him. But he, though much appalled, utterly 
 deny'd that he discern' d any thing of it ; nor was it 
 any part of his conviction. . . . 
 
 A famous divine recites this among the convictions 
 of a witch : ff The testimony of the party bewitched, 
 whether pining or dying ; together with the joint 
 oaths of sufficient persons that have seen certain pro- 
 digious pranks or feats wrought by the party accused." 
 Now, God had been pleased so to leave this G. B. 
 that he had ensnared himself by several instances, 
 which he had formerly given of a preternatural 
 strength, and which were now produced against him. 
 He was a very puny man, yet he had often done 
 things beyond the strength of a giant. A gun of 
 about seven foot barrel, and so heavy that strong 
 men could not steadily hold it out with both hands ; 
 there were several testimonies, given in by persons 
 of credit and honor, that he made nothing of taking 
 up such a gun behind the lock with but one hand, 
 and holding it out like a pistol at arms-end. G. B. 
 in his vindication was so foolish as to say, " That 
 an Indian was there, and held it out at the same 
 time." Whereas none of the spectators ever saw 
 any such Indian ; but they supposed, the " Black 
 Man" (as the witches call the devil ; and they gen- 
 erally say he resembles an Indian) might give him 
 
WITCH TRIALS. 243 
 
 that assistance. There was evidence likewise brought 
 in, that he made nothing of taking up whole barrels 
 fill' d with molasses or cider in very disadvantageous 
 postures and carrying of them through the difficultest 
 places out of a canoe to the shore. 
 
 Yea, there were two testimonies, that G. B. with 
 only putting the forefinger of his right hand into the 
 muzzle of an heavy gun, a fowling-piece of about six 
 or seven foot barrel, did lift up the gun, and hold 
 it out at arms-end ; a gun which the deponents 
 thought strong men could not with both hands lift 
 up and hold out at the butt-end, as is usual. Indeed, 
 one of these witnesses was over-persuaded by some 
 persons to be out of the way upon G. B.'s trial; 
 but he came afterwards with sorrow for his with- 
 draw [al], and gave in his testimony. Nor were 
 either of these witnesses made use of as evidences 
 in the trial. . . . 
 
 Faltering, faulty, unconstant, and contrary answers 
 upon judicial and deliberate examination, are counted 
 some unlucky symptoms of guilt, in all crimes, espe- 
 cially in witchcrafts. Now there never was a prisoner 
 more eminent for them than G. B. both at his ex- 
 amination and on his trial. His tergiversations, con- 
 tradictions, and falsehoods were very sensible. He 
 had little to say, but that he had heard some things 
 that he could not prove, reflecting upon the reputa- 
 tion of some of the witnesses. 
 
 Only he gave in a paper to the jury ; wherein, 
 although he had many times before granted, not only 
 that there are witches, but also that the present suf- 
 ferings of the country are the effects of horrible witch- 
 crafts, yet he now goes to evince it, M That there 
 
244 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 neither re, nor ever were witches, that having made 
 a compa :t with the devil can send a devil to torment 
 other people at a distance." This paper was tran- 
 scribed out of Adv ; which the Court presently 
 knew, as soon as they heard it. But he said, he 
 had taken none of it out of any book ; for which his 
 evasion afterwards was, that a gentleman gave him 
 the discourse in a manuscript, from whence he tran- 
 scribed it. 
 
 The jury brought him in guilty. But when he 
 came to die, he utterly denied the fact whereof he 
 had been thus convicted. 
 
 FROM THE TRIAL OF BRIDGET BISHOP. 
 
 To crown all, John Bly and William Bly testified 
 that being employed by Bridget Bishop to help to 
 take down the cellar wall of the old house wherein 
 she formerly lived ; they did in holes of the said 
 old wall find several puppets, made up of rags and 
 hogs-bristles, with headless pins in them, the points 
 being outward ; whereof she could give no account 
 to the court that was reasonable or tolerable. . . . 
 
 There was one very strange thing more with 
 which the court was newly entertained. As this 
 woman was under a guard, passing by the great and 
 spacious meeting-house of Salem, she gave a look 
 towards the house, and immediately a daemon invisi- 
 bly entering the meeting-house, tore down a part of 
 it ; so that though there was no person to be seen 
 there, yet the people at the noise, running in, found 
 a board, which was strongly fastened with several 
 nails, transported ^nfo another corner of the house. 
 
WITCH TRIALS. 245 
 
 FROM THE TRIAL OF ELIZABETH HOW. 
 
 Here was likewise a cluster of depositions that 
 Mr. Isaac Cummings, refusing to lend his mare unto 
 the husband of Mrs. How, the mare was w T ithin a 
 day or two taken in a strange condition. The beast 
 seemed much abused, being bruised as if she had been 
 running over the rocks, and marked where the bridle 
 went, as if burnt with a red-hot bridle. Moreover, 
 one using a pipe of tobacco for the cure of the beast, 
 a blue flame issued out of her, took hold of her hair, 
 and not only spread and burnt on her, but it also 
 flew upwards towards the roof of the barn, and had 
 like to have set the barn on fire. And the mare died 
 very suddenly. 
 
 FROM THE TRIAL OF MARTHA CARRIER. 
 
 Martha Carrier was indicted for the bewitching 
 certain persons, according to the form usual in such 
 cases pleading not guilty to her indictment ; there 
 were first brought in a considerable number of the 
 bewitched persons ; who not only made the court 
 sensible of a horrid witchcraft committed upon them, 
 but also deposed that it was Martha Carrier or her 
 shape that grievously tormented them by biting, 
 pricking, pinching and choking of them. It was 
 further deposed that while this Carrier was on her 
 examination before the magistrates, the poor people 
 were so tortured that every one expected their death 
 upon the very spot, but that upon the binding oi 
 Carrier they were eased. Moreover the look ot 
 Carrier then laid the afflicted people for dead ; and 
 
246 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 her touch, if her eye at the same time were off them, 
 raised them again. Which things were also now seen 
 upon her trial. And it was testified, that upon the 
 mention of some having their necks twisted almost 
 round by the shape of this Carrier, she replied, 
 " It's no matter though their necks had been twisted 
 quite off." 
 
 Before the trial of this prisoner several of her own 
 children had frankly and fully confessed, not only 
 that they were witches themselves, but that this their 
 mother had made them so. This confession they 
 made with great shews of repentance, and with much 
 demonstration of truth. They related place, time, 
 occasion ; they gave an account of journeys, meetings 
 and mischiefs by them performed, and were very cred- 
 ible in what they said. Nevertheless, this evidence 
 was not produced against the prisoner at the bar, 
 inasmuch as there was other evidence enough to pro- 
 ceed upon. . . . 
 
 Allin Toothaker testify'd that Richard, the son of 
 Martha Carrier, having some difference with him, 
 pull'd him down by the hair of the head. When he 
 rose again he was going to strike at -Richard Carrier ; 
 but fell down flat on his back to the ground and had 
 hot power to stir hand or foot, until he told Carrier 
 he yielded ; and then he saw the shape of Martha 
 Carrier go off his breast. 
 
 This Toothaker had received a wound in the wars ; 
 and he now testify'd that Martha Carrier told him he 
 should never be cured. Just afore the apprehending 
 of Carrier, he could thrust a knitting needle into his 
 wound, four inches deep ; but presently after her 
 being seized, he was thoroughly healed. . . . 
 
A MUNICIPAL REFORMER. 247 
 
 One Foster, who confessed her own share in the 
 witchcraft for which the prisoner stood indicted, 
 affirmed that she had seen the prisoner at some of 
 their witch meetings, and that it was this Carrier, 
 who persuaded her to be a witch. She confess' d, 
 that the devil carry' d them on a pole to a witch- 
 meeting ; but the pole broke, and she hanging about 
 Carrier's neck, they both fell down, and she then 
 received an hurt by the fall whereof she was not at 
 this very time recovered. . . . 
 
 In the time of this prisoner's trial, one Susanna 
 Sheldon in open court had her hands unaccountably 
 ty'd together with a wheel-band, so fast that without 
 cutting it could not be loosed. It was done by a 
 spectre ; and the sufferer affirm' d it was the prisoner's. 
 
 Memorandum. This rampant hag, Martha Car- 
 rier, was the person, of whom the confessions of the 
 witches, and of her own children among the rest, 
 agreed, that the devil had promised her she should be 
 Queen of Hell. 
 
 A COLONIAL MUNICIPAL REFORMER. 
 
 [From "The Bostonian Ebenezer," delivered 
 April 7, 1698.] 
 
 . . . Infant-Boston, thou hast those whom the 
 Bible calls nursing-fathers. Oh, be not froward, as 
 thou art in thy treating of thy nurses ; but give thanks 
 to God for them. I forget my self; 'tis with the 
 fathers themselves that I am concerned. 
 
 When it was demanded of Demosthenes, what it 
 was that so long preserved Athens in a flourishing 
 
248 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 state, he made this answer: M The orators are men 
 of learning and wisdom, the magistrates do justice, 
 the citizens love quiet, and the laws are kept among 
 them all." May Boston flourish in such happy 
 order! 
 
 And first, you may assure yourselves that the 
 ministers of the Lord Jesus Christ among you will 
 be joyful to approve themselves, as the Book of God 
 has called them, '* The helpers of your joy." O our 
 dear flocks, we owe you our all; all our love, all our 
 strength, all our time ; we watch for you as those 
 that must give an account ; and I am very much 
 mistaken if we are not willing to die for you, too, 
 if called unto it. If our Lord Jesus Christ should 
 say to us, «« My servant, if you'll die to-night, you 
 shall have this reward: the people that you preach 
 to shall be all converted unto me!" I think we 
 should with triumphing souls reply, "Ah! Lord, 
 then I'll die with all my heart." Sirs, we should 
 go away " rejoycing with joy unspeakable and full 
 of glory." I am satisfied that the most furious and 
 foul-mouthed reviler that God may give any of us 
 to be buffeted withal, if he will but come to sober 
 thoughts, he will say, That there is not any one 
 man in the town, but the ministers wish that man 
 as well as they do their own souls, and would gladly 
 serve that man by day or by night, in any thing that 
 it were possible to do for him. Wherefore, O our 
 beloved people, I beseech you leave off, leave off to 
 throw stones at your Ebenezers. Instead of that, 
 pray for us, and " strive together with us in your 
 prayers to God for us." Then with the help of 
 Christ we'll promise you we will set our selves to 
 
A MUNICIPAL REFORMER. 249 
 
 observe what special truths may be most needful to 
 be inculcated upon you, and we will inculcate them. 
 We will set our selves to observe the temptations that 
 beset you, the afflictions that assault you, and the 
 duties that are incumbent on you; and we will accom- 
 modate our selves unto them. We will set our selves 
 to observe what souls among you do call for our more 
 particular addresses, and we will address them faith- 
 fully, and even travel in birth for them. Nor will 
 we give over praying, and fasting, and crying to our 
 great Lord for you until you die. Whatever other 
 helpers the town enjoys, they shall have that conven- 
 ience in Ezra v. 2, " With them were the prophets 
 of God, helping them." . . . 
 
 And now will the Justices of the town set them- 
 selves to consider, How they may help to suppress 
 all growing vices among us ? 
 
 Will the Constables of the town set themselves 
 to consider, How they may help to prevent all evil 
 orders among us ? 
 
 There are some who have the eye of the town so 
 much upon them, that the very name of Towns-men 
 is that by which they are distinguished. Sirs, will 
 you also consider how to help the affairs of the town, 
 so as that all things may go well among us ? 
 
 Moreover, may not School-masters do much to 
 instil principles of religion and civility, as well as 
 other points of good education, into the children 
 of the town ? Only let the town well encourage 
 its well-deserving school-masters. 
 
 There are some officers ; but concerning all, there 
 are these two things to be desired : First, it is to be 
 desired that such officers as are chosen among us, 
 
250 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 may be chosen in the fear of God. May none but 
 pious and prudent men, and such as love the town, 
 be chosen to serve it. And, secondly, it is to be 
 desired that officers of several sorts would often come 
 together for consultation. Each of the sorts by them- 
 selves, may they often come together to consult, 
 " What shall we do to serve the town in those in- 
 terests which are committed unto our charge?" 
 Oh! what a deplorable thing will it be for persons 
 to be entrusted with talents, (your opportunities to 
 serve the town are so many talents!) and they never 
 seriously consider, " What good shall I do with my 
 talents in the place where God hath stationed me ? 
 
 And will the Representatives of the town be 
 considered among the rest, as entrusted with some 
 singular advantages for our help ? The Lord give 
 you understanding in -all things! 
 
 . . . But beware, I beseech you, of those provoking 
 evils that may expose us to a plague, exceeding all that 
 are in the catalogue of the twenty-eighth of Deuteron- 
 omy. Let me go on to say, What ! shall there be any 
 bawdy-houses in such a town as this ! It may be the 
 neighbours, that could smoke them, and rout them, if 
 they would, are loth to stir, for fear of being reputed ill 
 neighbours. But I say unto you, that you are ill neigh- 
 bours because you do it not. All the neighbours are like 
 to have their children and servants poisoned, and their 
 dwellings laid in ashes, because you do it not. And, 
 Oh ! that the drinking-houses in the town might once 
 come under a laudable regulation. The town has an 
 enormous number of them ; will the haunters of those 
 houses hear the counsels of Heaven ? For you that 
 are the town-dwellers, to be oft or long in your visits 
 
A MUNICIPAL REFORMER. 25 I 
 
 of the ordinary, 'twill certainly expose you to mis- 
 chiefs more than ordinary. 1 have seen certain tav- 
 erns, where the pictures of horrible devourers were 
 hanged out for the signs ; and, thought I, 'twere 
 well if such signs were not sometimes too significant : 
 alas, men have their estates devoured, their names de- 
 voured, their hours devoured, and their very souls 
 devoured, when they are so besotted that they are not 
 in therr element, except they be tipling at such houses. 
 When once a man is bewitched with the ordinary, 
 what usually becomes of him ? He is a gone man ; 
 and when he comes to die, he will cry out, as many 
 have done, '* Ale-houses are hell-houses ! ale-houses 
 are hell-houses ! " But let the owners of those 
 houses also now hear our counsels. li Oh ! hearken 
 to me, that God may hearken to you another day ! " 
 It is an honest, and a lawful, though it may not be a 
 very desirable employment, that you have under- 
 taken : you may glorify the Lord Jesus Christ in 
 your employment if you will, and benefit the town 
 considerably. There was a very godly man that was 
 an innkeeper, and a great minister of God could say 
 to that man, in 3 John 2 m Thy soul prospereth." 
 O let it not be said of you, since you are fallen into 
 this employment, "Thy soul withereth ! " It is 
 thus with too many : especially, when they that get 
 a license perhaps to sell drink out of doors, do stretch 
 their license to sell within doors. Those private 
 houses, when once a professor of the gospel comes to 
 steal a living out of them, it commonly precipitates 
 them into an abundance of wretchedness and confu- 
 sion. But I pray God assist you that keep ordinaries, 
 to keep the commandments of God in them. There 
 
252 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 was an Inn at Bethlehem where the Lord Jesus 
 Christ was to be met withal. Can Boston boast of 
 many such ? Alas, too ordinarily it may be said, 
 " there is no room for him in the Inn ! " . . . 
 
 Furthermore, What changes have we seen in point 
 of possessions ? If some that are now rich were once 
 low in the world, 'tis possible, more that were once 
 rich are now brought very low. Ah ! Boston, thou 
 hast seen the vanity of all worldly possessions. • One 
 fatal morning, which laid fourscore of thy dwelling- 
 houses, and seventy of thy ware-houses, in a ruinous 
 heap, not nineteen years ago, gave thee to read it in 
 fiery characters. And an huge fleet of thy vessels, 
 which they would make if they were all together, 
 that have miscarried in the late war, has given thee to 
 read more of it. Here is one petition more to be 
 made unto our God : "Lord, help us to ensure a 
 better and a lasting substance in heaven, and the good 
 part that cannot be taken away." 
 
 In fine, how dreadfully have the young people of 
 Boston perished under the judgments of God ! A 
 renowned writer among the Pagans could make this 
 remark : there was a town so irreligious and atheis- 
 tical, that they did not pay their first fruits unto God ; 
 (which the light of nature taught the Pagans to do !) 
 and, says he, they were by a sudden desolation so 
 strangely destroyed, that there were no remainders 
 either of the persons, or of the houses, to be seen 
 any more. Ah, my young folks, there are few first- 
 fruits paid unto the Lord Jesus Christ among you. 
 From hence it comes to pass, that the consuming 
 wrath of God is every day upon you. New-Eng- 
 land has been like a tottering house, the very founda- 
 
A MUNICIPAL REFORMER. 253 
 
 tions of it have been shaking ; but the house thus 
 oversetting by the whirlwinds of the wrath of God, 
 hath been like Job's house : «' It falls upon the young 
 men, and they are dead !" The disasters on our 
 young folks have been so multiplied, that there are 
 few parents among us but what will go with wounded 
 hearts down unto their graves : their daily moans are, 
 : 'Ah, my son, cut off in his youth ! My son, my 
 son ! " Behold then the help that we are to ask of 
 our God ; and why do we, with no more days 
 of prayer with fasting, ask it? '* Lord, help the 
 young people of Boston to remember thee in the 
 days of their youth, and satisfy unto the survivors the 
 terrible things that have come upon so many of that 
 generation." 
 
 And now as Joshua, having reasoned with his peo- 
 ple a little before he died, in Josh. xxiv. 26, 27, 
 "took a great stone, and set it up, and said unto all 
 the people, Behold, this stone shall be a witness unto 
 you, lest ye deny your God ; " thus we have been 
 this day setting up a stone, even an Ebenezer, 
 among you ; and I conclude, earnestly testifying 
 unto you, Behold this stone shall be a witness unto 
 you, that the Lord Jesus Christ has been a good 
 Lord unto you, and if you seek him, he will be still 
 found of you ; but if you forsake him, he will cast 
 you off for ever. 
 
254 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 HIS PURPOSES IN WRITING THE 
 MAGNALIA. 
 
 [From the General Introduction to the 
 " Magnalia Christi Americana." 1702.] 
 
 I write the wonders of the christian religion, fly- 
 ing from the depravations of Europe, to the Ameri- 
 can strand : and, assisted by the Holy Author of that 
 religion, I do, with all conscience of truth required 
 therein by him, who is the truth itself, report the 
 wonderful displays of his infinite power, wisdom, 
 goodness, and faithfulness, wherewith his Divine 
 Providence hath irradiated an Indian wilderness. 
 
 I relate the considerable matters that produced and 
 attended the first settlement of colonies, which have 
 been renowned for the degree of reformation, pro- 
 fessed and attained by evangelical churches, erected 
 in those ends of the earth : and a field being thus pre- 
 pared, I proceed unto a relation of the considerable 
 matters which have been acted thereupon. 
 
 I first introduce the actors that have, in a more 
 exemplary manner, served those colonies ; and give 
 remarkable occurrences, in the exemplary lives of 
 many magistrates, and of more ministers, who so 
 lived, as to leave unto posterity examples worthy of 
 everlasting remembrance. 
 
 I add hereunto the notables of the only Protestant 
 University, that even shone in that hemisphere of 
 the New World ; with particular instances of 
 Criolians, in our biography, provoking the whole 
 world with virtuous objects of emulation. 
 
LEARNED MRS. BRADSTREET. 255 
 
 I introduce, then, the actions of a more eminent 
 importance that have signalized those colonies : 
 whether the establishments, directed by their synods, 
 with a rich variety of synodical and ecclesiastical de- 
 terminations ; or, the disturbances, with which they 
 have been from all sorts of temptations and enemies 
 tempestuated ; and the methods by which they have 
 still weathered out each horrible tempest. 
 
 And into the midst of these actions, I interpose an 
 entire book, wherein there is, with all possible verac- 
 ity, a collection made of memorable occurrences ; 
 and amazing judgments and mercies, befalling many 
 particular persons among the people of New Eng- 
 land. 
 
 Let my readers expect all that I have promised 
 them, in this bill of fare ; and it may be that they 
 will find themselves entertained with yet many other 
 passages, above and beyond their expectations, de- 
 serving likewise a room in history : in all which, 
 there will be nothing but the author's too mean way 
 of preparing so great entertainments, to reproach the 
 invitation. 
 
 THE LEARNED MRS. BRADSTREET. 
 
 [From the Same, Book I.] 
 
 But when I mention the poetry of this gentleman 
 [Gov. Thomas Dudley] as one of his accomplish- 
 ments, I must not leave unmentioned the fame with 
 which the poems of one descended from him have 
 been celebrated in both Englands. If the rare learn- 
 
256 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 ing of a daughter, was not the least of those bright 
 things that adorned no less a judge of England than 
 Sir Thomas More ; it must now be said, that a judge 
 . of New England, namely, Thomas Dudley, Esq. had 
 a daughter (besides other children) to be a crown 
 unto him. Reader, America justly admires the 
 learned women of the other hemisphere. She has 
 heard of those that were tutoresses to the old pro- 
 fessors of all philosophy : she hath heard of Hippatia, 
 who formerly taught the liberal arts ; and of Sarocchia, 
 who more lately was very often the moderatrix in 
 the disputations of the learned men of Rome : She 
 has been told of the three Corinnaes, which equalled, 
 if not excelled, the most celebrated poets of their 
 time : She has been told of the Empress Eudocia, 
 who composed poetical paraphrases on divers parts of 
 the Bible : and of Rosuida, who wrote the lives of 
 holy men ; and of Pamphilia, who wrote other his- 
 tories unto the life : the writings of the most re- 
 nowned Anna Maria Schurnian, have come over unto 
 her. But she now prays, that into such catalogues 
 of authoresses, as Beverovicius, Hottinger, and Voetius, 
 have given unto the world, there may be a room now 
 given unto Madam Ann Bradstreet, the daughter 
 of our governor Dudley, and the consort of our gov- 
 ernor Bradstreet, whose poems, divers times printed, 
 have afforded a grateful entertainment unto the in- 
 genious, and a monument for her memory beyond the 
 stateliest marbles. It was upon these poems that an 
 ingenious person bestowed this epigram : — 
 
 Now I believe tradition, which doth call 
 The Muses virtues, graces, females all. 
 Only they are not nine, eleven, or three ; 
 
A TALE OF MUTINY. 257 
 
 Our auth'ress proves them but an unity. 
 Mankind, take up some blushes on the score j 
 Monopolize perfection hence no more. 
 In your own arts confess yourselves outdone j 
 The moon hath totally eclips'd the sun : 
 Not with her sable mantle muffing him, 
 But her bright silver makes his gold look dim : 
 Just as his beams force our pale lamps to wink, 
 And earthly fires within their ashes shrink. 
 
 A TALE OF MUTINY AND TREASURE- 
 TROVE. 
 
 [From the Same. The Life of Sir Wm. Phips.] 
 
 . . . Being thus of the true temper for doing 
 of great things, he betakes himself to the sea, the 
 right scene for such things ; and upon advice of a 
 Spanish wreck about the Bahamas, he took a voyage 
 thither ; but with little more success than what just 
 served him a little to furnish him for a voyage to Eng- 
 land ; whither he went in a vessel, not much unlike 
 that which the Dutchmen stamped on their first coin, 
 with these words about it : Incertum quo Fata fer ant. 
 Having first informed himself that there was another 
 Spanish wreck, wherein was lost a mighty treasure, 
 hitherto undiscovered, he had a strong impression 
 upon his mind that he must be the discoverer ; and 
 he made such representations of his design at White- 
 Hall, that by the year 1683 he became the captain 
 of a king's ship, and arrived at New- England com- 
 mander of the Algier-Rose, a frigate of eighteen guns 
 and ninety-five men. 
 
 To relate all the dangers through which he passed, 
 
258 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 both by sea and land, and all the tiresome trials of 
 his patience, as well as of his courage, while year 
 after year the most vexing accidents imaginable 
 delayed the success of his design, it would even tire 
 the patience of the reader ; for very great was the 
 experiment that Captain Phips made of the Italian 
 observation, "He that cannot suffer both good and 
 evil, will never come to any great preferment." 
 Wherefore I shall supersede all journal of his voyages 
 to and fro, with reciting one incident of his conduct, 
 that showed him to be a person of no contemptible 
 capacity. While he was captain of the Algier-Rose, 
 his men growing weary of their unsuccessful enter- 
 prise, made a mutiny, wherein they approached him 
 on the quarter-deck, with drawn swords in their 
 hands, and required him to join with them in run- 
 ning away with the ship, to drive a trade of piracy 
 on the South Seas. Captain Phips, though he had 
 not so much of a weapon as an ox-goad, or a jaw- 
 bone in his hands, yet, like another Shamgar or Sam- 
 son, with a most undaunted fortitude, he rushed in 
 upon them, and with the blows of his bare hands 
 felled many of them, and quelled all the rest. 
 
 But this is not the instance which I intended ; 
 that which I intend is, that (as it has been related 
 unto me) one day while his frigate lay careening, at a 
 desolate Spanish island, by the side of a rock, from 
 whence they had laid a bridge to the shore, the men, 
 whereof he had about an hundred, went all but about 
 eight or ten to divert themselves, as they pretended, 
 in the woods ; where they all entered into an agree- 
 ment, which they signed in a ring, that about seven 
 o'clock that evening they would seize the captain, 
 
A TALE OF MUTINY. 259 
 
 and those eight or ten which they knew to be true 
 unto him, and leave them to perish on this island, 
 and so be gone away unto the South Sea to seek their 
 fortune. Will the reader now imagine that Captain 
 Phips, having advice of this plot but about an hour 
 and a half before it was to be put in execution, yet 
 within two hours brought all these rogues down upon 
 their knees to beg for their lives ? But so it was ! 
 for these knaves considering that they should want a 
 carpenter with them in their villainous expedition, 
 sent a messenger to fetch unto them the carpenter, 
 who was then at work upon the vessel ; and unto 
 him they shewed their articles ; telling him what he 
 must look for if he did not subscribe among them. 
 The carpenter, being an honest fellow, did with 
 much importunity prevail for one half hour's time to 
 consider of the matter ; and returning to work upon 
 the vessel, with a spy by them set upon him, he 
 feigned himself taken with a fit of the cholic, for 
 the relief whereof he suddenly run unto the captain 
 in the great cabin for a dram ; where, when he 
 came, his business was only, in brief, to tell the cap- 
 tain of the horrible distress which he was fallen into ; 
 out the captain bid him as briefly return to the 
 rogues in the woods, and sign their articles, and 
 leave him to provide for the rest. The carpenter 
 was no sooner gone but Captain Phips, calling 
 together the few friends (it may be seven or eight) 
 that were left him aboard, whereof the gunner was 
 one, demanded of them, whether they would stand 
 by him in the extremity which he informed them was 
 now come upon him ; whereto they replied, "They 
 would stand by him, if he could save them ;" and 
 
260 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 he answered, " By the help of God he did not fear 
 it." All their provisions had been carried ashore to 
 a tent, made for that purpose there ; about which they 
 had placed several great guns to defend it, in case of 
 any assault from Spaniards, that might happen to 
 come that way. Wherefore Captain Phips immedi- 
 ately ordered those guns to be silently drawn and 
 turned ; and so pulling up the bridge, he charged his 
 great guns aboard, and brought them to bear on every 
 side of the tent. By this time the army of rebels 
 comes out of the woods ; but as they drew near to 
 the tent of provisions, they saw such a change of 
 circumstances, that they cried out, " We are be- 
 trayed ! " And they were soon confirmed in it, 
 when they heard the captain with a stern fury call 
 to them, "Stand off, ye wretches, at your peril !" 
 He quickly saw them cast into a more than ordinary 
 confusion, when they saw him ready to fire his great 
 guns upon them, if they offered one step further than 
 he permitted them ; and when he had signified unto 
 them his resolve to abandon them unto all the deso- 
 lation which they had purposed for him, he caused 
 the bridge to be again laid, and his men begun to 
 take the provisions aboard. When the wretches be- 
 held what was coming upon them, they fell to very 
 humble entreaties ; and at last fell down upon their 
 knees, protesting, "That they never had anything 
 against him, except only his unwillingness to go away 
 with the king's ship upon the South-Sea design ; but 
 upon all other accounts they would choose rather to 
 live and die with him than with any man in the 
 world. However, since they saw how much he was 
 dissatisfied at it, they would insist upon it no more, 
 
THE SUNKEN TREASURE SHIP. 261 
 
 and humbly begged his pardon.' ' And when *he 
 judged that he had kept them on their knees long 
 enough, he having first secured their arms, received 
 them aboard ; but he immediately weighed anchor, 
 and arriving at Jamaica, he turned them off. 
 
 THE SUNKEN TREASURE SHIP. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 Now, with a small company of other men he 
 sailed from thence to Hispaniola, where, by the pol- 
 icy of his address, he fished out of a very old Spaniard 
 (or Portuguese) a little advice about the true spot 
 where lay the wreck which he had been hitherto seek- 
 ing, as unprosperously as the chy mists have their au- 
 risic stone ; that it was upon a reef of shoals, a few 
 leagues to the northward of Port de la Plata, upon 
 Hispaniola, a port so called, it seems, from the land- 
 ing of some of the shipwrecked company, with a boat 
 full of plate, saved out of their sinking frigate ; never- 
 theless, when he had searched very narrowly the spot, 
 whereof the old Spaniard had advised him, he had 
 not hitherto exactly lit upon it. Such thorns did vex 
 his affairs while he was in the Rose-frigate ; but none 
 of all these things could refund the edge of his expec- 
 tations to find the wreck ; with such expectations he 
 returned then into England, that he might there 
 better furnish himself to prosecute a new discovery ; 
 for though he judged he might, by proceeding a little 
 further, have come at the right spot ; yet he found 
 his present company too ill a crew* to be confided in. 
 
262 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 ■ So proper was his behaviour, that the best noble- 
 men in the kingdom now admitted him into their 
 conversation ; but yet he was opposed by powerful 
 enemies, that clogged his affairs with such demur- 
 rages, and such disappointments, as would have 
 wholly discouraged his designs, if his patience had 
 not been invincible. '* He who can wait hath what 
 he desireth." Thus his indefatigable patience, with 
 a proportionable diligence, at length overcame the 
 difficulties that had been thrown in his way ; and 
 prevailing with the Duke of Albemarle, and some 
 other persons of quality, to fit him out, he set sail 
 for the fishing-ground, which had been so well baited 
 half an hundred years before ; and as he had already 
 discovered his capacity for business in many consider- 
 able actions, he now added unto those discoveries, by 
 not only providing all, but also by inventing many of 
 the instruments necessary to the prosecution of his 
 intended fishery. Captain Phips arriving with a ship 
 and a tender at Port de la Plata, made a stout canoe 
 of a stately cotton-tree, so large as to carry eight or 
 ten oars, for the making of which periaga (as they 
 call it) he did, with the same industry that he did 
 every thing else, employ his own hand and adse, and 
 endure no little hardship, lying abroad in the woods 
 many nights together. This periaga, with the tender, 
 being anchored at a place convenient, the periaga kept 
 busking to and again, but could only discover a reef 
 of rising shoals thereabouts, called " The Boilers," 
 — which, rising to be within two or three foot of 
 the surface of the sea, were yet so steep, that a ship 
 striking on them would immediately sink down, who 
 could say how many fathom, into the ocean ? Here 
 
THE SUNKEN TREASURE SHIP. 263 
 
 they could get no other pay for their long peeping 
 among the boilers, but only such as caused them to 
 think upon returning to their captain with the bad 
 news of their total disappointment. Nevertheless, as 
 they were upon the return, one of the men, looking 
 over the side of the periaga, into the calm water, he 
 spied a sea feather, growing, as he judged, out of a 
 rock ; whereupon they bade one of their Indians to 
 dive, and fetch this feather, that they might, however, 
 carry home something with them, and make, at least, 
 as fair a triumph as Caligula's. The diver bringing 
 up the feather, brought therewithal a surprising story, 
 that he perceived a number of great guns in the 
 watery world where he had found his feather ; the 
 report of which great guns exceedingly astonished 
 the whole company ; and at once turned their de- 
 spondencies for their ill success into assurances that 
 they had now lit upon the true spot of ground which 
 they had been looking for ; and they were further 
 confirmed in these assurances, when, upon further 
 diving, the Indian fetched up a sow, as they styled it, 
 or a lump of silver worth perhaps two or three hun- 
 dred pounds. Upon this they prudently buoyed the 
 place, that they might readily find it again ; and they 
 went back unto their captain, whom for some while 
 they distressed with nothing but such bad news as 
 they formerly thought they must have carried him. 
 Nevertheless, they so slipt in the sow of silver on 
 one side under the table, where they were now sitting 
 with the captain, and hearing him express his reso- 
 lutions to wait still patiently upon the providence of 
 God under these disappointments, that when he 
 should look on one side, he might see that odd thing 
 
264 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 before him. At last he saw it ; seeing it, he cried 
 out with some agony, " Why ! what is this ? whence 
 comes this?" And then, with changed counte- 
 nances, they told him how and where they got it. 
 "Then," said he, "thanks be to God! we are 
 made ; " and so away they went, all hands to work ; 
 wherein they had this one further piece of remarkable 
 prosperity, that whereas if they had first fallen upon 
 that part of the Spanish wreck where the pieces of 
 eight had been stowed in bags among the ballast, 
 they had seen a more laborious, and less enriching 
 time of it ; now, most happily, they first fell upon 
 that, room in the wreck where the bullion had been 
 stored up ; and they so prospered in this new fishery, 
 that in a little while they had, without the loss of 
 any man's life, brought up thirty-two tuns of silver ; 
 for it was now come to measuring of silver by tuns. 
 Besides which, one Adderly, of Providence, who had 
 formerly been very helpful to Captain Phips in the 
 search of this wreck, did, upon former agreement, 
 meet him now with a little vessel here ; and he, with 
 his few hands, took up about six tuns of silver ; 
 whereof, nevertheless, he made so little use, that in 
 a year or two he died at Bermudas, and, as I have 
 heard, he ran distracted some while before he died. 
 
 Thus did there once again come into the light of 
 the sun a treasure which had been half an hundred 
 years groaning under the waters ; and in this time 
 there was grown upon the plate a crust like limestone, 
 to the thickness of several inches ; which crust being 
 broken open by iron contrived for that purpose, they 
 knocked out whole bushels of rusty pieces of eight 
 which were grown thereinto. Besides that incredible 
 
THE SUNKEN TREASURE SHIP. 265 
 
 treasure of plate in various forms, thus fetched up, 
 from seven or eight fathom under water, there were 
 vast riches of gold, and pearls and jewels, which they 
 also lit upon ; and, indeed, for a more comprehensive 
 invoice, I must but summarily say, «« All that a Span- 
 ish frigate uses to be enriched withal." Thus did 
 they continue fishing till, their provisions failing them, 
 'twas time to be gone ; but before they went, Cap- 
 tain Phips caused Adderly and his folk to swear that 
 they would none of them discover the place of the 
 wreck, or come to the place any more till the next 
 year, when he expected again to be there himself. 
 And it was also remarkable that though the sows 
 came up still so fast, that on the very last day of 
 the'r being there they took up twenty, yet it was 
 afterwards found that they had in a manner wholly 
 cleared that room of the ship where those massy 
 things were stowed. 
 
 But there was one extraordinary distress which Cap- 
 tain Phips now found himself plunged into ; for his 
 men were come out with him upon seamen's wages, 
 at so much per month ; and when they saw such vast 
 litters of silver sows and pigs, as they called them, 
 come on board them at the captain's call, they knew 
 not how to bear it, that they should not share all 
 among themselves, and be gone to lead "a short life 
 and a merry," in a climate where the arrest of those 
 that had hired them should not reach them. In this 
 terrible distress he made his vows unto Almighty God, 
 that if the Lord would carry him safe home to Eng- 
 land, with what he had now given him, ** to suck of 
 the abundance of the seas, and of the treasures hid in 
 the sands," he would forever devote himself unto the 
 
266 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 interests of the Lord Jesus Christ and of his people, 
 especially in the country which he did himself origi- 
 nally belong unto. And he then used all the oblig- 
 ing arts imaginable to make his men true unto him, 
 especially by assuring them that, besides their wages, 
 they should have ample requitals made unto them ; 
 which if the rest of his employers would not agree 
 unto, he would himself distribute his own share among 
 them. Relying upon the word of one whom they 
 had ever found worthy of their love, and of their 
 trust, they declared themselves content ; bat still keep- 
 ing a most careful eye upon them, he hastened back 
 for England with as much money as he thought he 
 could then safely trust his vessel withal ; not counting 
 it safe to supply himself with necessary provisions at 
 any nearer port, and so return unto the wreck, by 
 which delays he wisely feared lest all might be lost, 
 more ways than one. Though he also left so much 
 behind him, that many from divers parts made very 
 considerable voyages of gleanings after his harvest ; 
 which came to pass by certain Bermudians compelling 
 of Adderly's boy, whom they spirited away with them 
 to tell them the exact place where the wreck was to be 
 found. 
 
 THE INCARNATED WONDERS OF NEW 
 ENGLAND. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 When Toxaris met with his countryman Anacharsis 
 in Athens, he gave him this invitation, *' Come along 
 with me, and I will shew thee at once all the won- 
 ders of Greece ; " whereupon he shewed him Solon, 
 
SPEECHES OF JOHN WINTHROP. 267 
 
 as the person in whom there centred all the glories of 
 that city or country. I shall now invite my reader 
 to behold at once the " wonders " of New-England, 
 and it is in one Thomas Hooker that he shall behold 
 them ; even in that Hooker, whom a worthy writer 
 would needs call "Saint Hooker," for the same 
 reason (he said), and with the same freedom that 
 Latimer would speak of Saint Bilney, in his com- 
 memorations. 'Tis that Hooker, of whom I may 
 venture to say, that the famous Romanist, who wrote 
 a book, De Tribus Tbomis, or Of Three Thomas's 
 — meaning Thomas the Apostle, Thomas a Becket, 
 and Sir Thomas More — did not a thousandth part 
 so well sort his Thomas's, as a New-Englander might, 
 if he should write a book, De Duobus Tbomis, or Of 
 Two Thomas's ; and with Thomas the Apostle, join 
 our celebrious Thomas Hooker ; my one Thomas, 
 even our apostolical Hooker, would in just balances 
 weigh down two of Stapleton's rebellious archbishops 
 or bigoted Lord Chancellors. 'Tis he whom I may 
 call, as Theodoret called Iranasus, "The light of the 
 western churches." 
 
 TWO SPEECHES OF JOHN WINTHROP 
 — NEHEMIAS AMERICANUS. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 Once more there was a time when some active 
 spirits among the deputies of the colony, by their 
 endeavours not only to make themselves a Court of 
 Judicature, but also to take away the negative by 
 which the magistrates might check their votes, had 
 
268 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 like by over-driving to have run the whole govern- 
 ment into something too democratical. And if there 
 were a town in Spain undermined by coneys, another 
 town in Thrace destroyed by moles, a third in Greece 
 ranversed by frogs, a fourth in Germany subverted by 
 rats ; I must on this occasion add, that there was a 
 country in America like to be confounded by a swine. 
 A certain stray sow being found, was claimed by two 
 several persons with a claim so equally maintained on 
 both sides, that after six or seven years' hunting the 
 business from one court unto another, it was brought 
 at last into the General Court where the final deter- 
 mination was, "that it was impossible to proceed 
 unto any judgment in the case." However, in 
 the debate of this matter, the negative of the upper- 
 house upon the lower in that Court was brought 
 upon the stage ; and agitated with so hot a zeal, that 
 a little more, and all had been in the fire. In these 
 agitations, the governor was informed that an offence 
 had been taken by some eminent persons at certain 
 passages in a discourse by him written thereabout ; 
 whereupon, with his usual condescendency, when he 
 next came into the General Court, he made a speech 
 of this import : . . . 
 
 This acknowledging disposition in the governor 
 made them all acknowledge, that he was truly "a. 
 man of an excellent spirit." In fine, the victories 
 of an Alexander, an Hannibal, or a Caesar over other 
 men, were not so glorious as the victories of this great 
 man over himself, which also at last proved victories 
 over other men. 
 
 § 9. But the stormiest of all the trials that ever 
 befell this gentleman, was in the year 1645, when he 
 
FOR PROMOTING RELIGION. 269 
 
 was, in title, no more than Deputy-governor of the 
 colony. If the famous Cato were forty-four times 
 called into judgment, but as often acquitted ; let it not 
 be wondred, and if famous Winthrop were one time so. 
 There happening certain seditious and mutinous prac- 
 tices in the town of Hingham, the Deputy-governor, as 
 legally as prudently, interposed his authority for the 
 checking of them : whereupon there followed such an 
 enchantment upon the minds of the deputies in the 
 General Court, that upon a scandalous petition of the 
 delinquents unto them, wherein a pretended invasion 
 made upon the liberties of the people was complained 
 of, the Deputy-governor was most irregularly called 
 forth unto an ignominious hearing before them in a 
 vast assembly ; whereto with a sagacious humilitude 
 he consented, although he shewed them how he 
 might have refused it. The result of that hearing 
 was, that notwithstanding the touchy jealousy of the 
 people about their liberties lay at the bottom of all 
 this prosecution, yet Mr. Winthrop was publicly 
 acquitted, and the offenders were severally fined and 
 censured. But Mr. Winthrop then resuming the 
 place of Deputy-governor on the bench, saw cause to 
 speak unto the root of the matter after this man- 
 ner : . . . [See Vol. I., p. 106.] 
 
 PRIVATE ASSOCIATIONS FOR PROMOT- 
 ING RELIGION. 
 
 [From " Essays to do Good," 17 10. Section 
 xiii.] 
 
 We cannot dismiss the offices of good neighbor- 
 hood, without offering a proposal, to animate and 
 
270 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 regulate private meetings of religious persons, for the 
 exercises of religion. It is very certain that where 
 such private meetings have been maintained, and 
 well conducted, the Christians who have composed 
 them have, like so many '< coals of the altar," kept 
 one another alive, and maintained a lively Christian- 
 ity in the neighborhood. Such societies have been 
 strong and tried instruments, to uphold the power of 
 godliness. The giving up of such societies has been 
 accompanied with a visible decay of godliness : the 
 less they have been loved or regarded in any place, 
 the less has godliness flourished. 
 
 The rules observed by some Associated Families 
 may be offered with advantage on this occasion. 
 They will show us what good may be done in a 
 neighborhood by such societies. 
 
 1. It is proposed, That about twelve families 
 agree to meet (the men and their wives) at each 
 other's houses in rotation, once in a fortnight or a 
 month, as shall be thought most proper, and spend 
 a suitable time together in religious exercises. 
 
 2. The exercises of religion proper for such a 
 meeting are : for the brethren in rotation to com- 
 mence and conclude with prayer ; for psalms to be 
 sung ; and for sermons to be repeated. 
 
 6. The members of such a society should con- 
 sider themselves as bound up in one " bundle of 
 love" ; and count themselves obliged, by very close 
 and strong bonds to be serviceable to one another. 
 If any one in the society should fall into affliction all 
 the rest should presently study to relieve and support 
 
CONVERSATION OF GENTLEMEN. 27 1 
 
 the afflicted person in every possible manner. If 
 any one should fall into temptation, the rest should 
 watch over him, and, with the " spirit of meekness," 
 with " meekness of wisdom," endeavor to recover 
 him. It should be like a law of the Medes and 
 Persians to the whole society — that they will upon 
 all just occasions, affectionately give, and as affection- 
 ately receive mutual admonitions of anything that 
 they may see amiss in each other. 
 
 7. It is not easy to reckon the good offices which 
 such a society may do to many others besides its own 
 members . . . yea, all the land may be the better 
 for them. 
 
 THE CONVERSATION OF GENTLEMEN. 
 
 [From the Same. Section xx.] 
 
 There seems no need of adding anything but this, 
 that when gentlemen occasionally meet together, why 
 should not their conversation correspond with their 
 superior station ? Methinks they should deem it 
 beneath persons of their quality to employ the con- 
 versation on trifling impertinences, or in such a way 
 that, if it were secretly taken in shorthand, they 
 would blush to hear it repeated — "Nothing but 
 jesting and laughing, and words scattered by the 
 wind." Sirs, it becomes a gentleman to entertain 
 his company with the finest thoughts on the finest 
 themes ; and certainly there cannot be a subject so 
 worthy of a gentleman as this — What good is there 
 to be done in the world? Were this noble subject 
 
272 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 more frequently started in the conversation of gentle 
 men, an incredible good might be done. 
 
 A HERCULEAN STUDENT. 
 
 [From " Memoirs of Remarkables in the Life and 
 the Death of the Ever-memorable Dr. Increase 
 Mather," 1724. Article xxxi. " The Lat- 
 ter-days."] 
 
 The Dr. still had many opportunities for special 
 service continued unto him, and he approved him- 
 self a prudent and faithful steward of his talents. He 
 grew in the exercises of repentance and of patience, 
 and of all piety, and communion with God ; and in 
 the painful discharge of his ministry', and watchfully 
 laid hold on all opportunities to bear testimonies for 
 the cause of G )d, and of his people, ae the matter 
 might require. But if I cut the chapter into little 
 sections, it may add something to the relish of it. 
 
 1 . His purpose and manner of life, is exactly 
 described, in a book about holiness, which was writ- 
 ten by him, twenty years before he died. In that 
 book he offers admirable rules for growth towards a 
 perfection of holiness, in the fear of God : Which he 
 introduces with saying, / shall not set before you 
 directions impossible to be followed, or heavy burdens 
 which I wo 'dd be loth myself to touch. No, we saw 
 his rules livelily exemplified. But his daily course m-v 
 be enquired after. Besides his patient continuance 
 in that stroke of well-doing, which lay in his course 
 of setting apart whole days for the religion of the 
 
A HERCULEAN STUDENT. 
 
 2 73 
 
 closet, and which he continued until the last year of 
 his life was coming on : His daily course was this : 
 And what a grateful spectacle to angels in it ! 
 
 In the morning repairing to his study, (where his 
 custom was to sit up very late, even until midnight, 
 and perhaps after it) he deliberately read a chap- 
 ter, and made a prayer, and then plied what of reading 
 and writing he had before him. At nine o'clock he 
 came down, and read a chapter and made a prayer, 
 with his family. He then returned unto the work 
 of the study. Coming down to dinner, he quickly 
 went up again, and begun the afternoon with another 
 prayer. There he went on with the work of the 
 study till the evening. Then with another prayer 
 he again went unto his Father ; after which he did 
 more at the work of the study. At nine o'clock he 
 came down to his family sacrifices. Then he went 
 up again to the work of the study, which anon he 
 concluded with another prayer ; And so he betook 
 himself unto his repose. 
 
 In the prayers of the day, what there fell short of 
 the number, in the hundred and sixty fourth verse 
 of the hundred and nineteenth psalm, was doubtless 
 made up with numberless ejaculations — Of such 
 ejaculatory prayers, no doubt, is to be understood, 
 what antiquity reports of the apostle Bartholomew, 
 That he prayed one hundred times in a day ; and of 
 one Paulus, That he did it three hundred times. I 
 can't say, That this our Eusebius had so many 
 ejaculatory prayers as these come to ; But he was the 
 happy man, that had his quiver full of them ! 
 
 He commonly spent sixteen hours of the four and 
 twenty in his laborious hive ! Being very much 
 
274 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 of Thomas a Kempis his mind, Nusquam requiem 
 invenio nisi in libro et in claustro. He was there, 
 some thought, even to a fault. More of his pastoral 
 visits were wished for. 
 
 A GREEN OLD AGE. 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 And now the time draws nigh, in which Dr. Mather 
 is to die. 
 
 He grows old, yet what a green olive-tree in the 
 proseucha of his God ! — nee tarda senectus debilitat 
 vires animi, mutatve vigor em. 
 
 Old age came on. But what an one ! How 
 bright ! How wise ! How strong ! And in what 
 an uncommon measure serviceable ! He had been 
 an old man while he was yet a young man ; I can 
 quote a Rabbi for it : Sapiens appellator senex, etiamsi 
 diebus sit exiguus. And now he was an old man his 
 public performances had a vigor in them, which 'tis a 
 rare thing to see a young man have any thing equal to. 
 
 How did the good people far and near discover 
 even a growth of their appetite for the enjoyment of as 
 much as might be obtained from him ! The churches 
 would not permit an ordination to be carried on with- 
 out him as long as he was able to travel in a coach 
 unto them. 
 
 And on the day of his attaining to fourscore he 
 preached a sermon full of light and life on those 
 words, Ezek. xvi. 5, '* The day when thou wast 
 born." They that wrote after him have printed it. 
 
A GREEN OLD AGE. 275 
 
 The mens et ratio et consilium which are by Cicero 
 mentioned as the prerogatives of "Old Age," were 
 found in him to an uncommon degree. On very 
 many accounts he might have said, as old Georgias 
 did, Nihil habeo propter quod senectutem meam accu- 
 sem ; yea, as a better man, old Drusius did, Senectus 
 mibi melior quam ipsa juventus. But that which most 
 of all gave him a comfortable old age, was what Cal- 
 vin, who did not live to old age, well pitches on as 
 the chiefest comfort of old age : l^nendum est, pr<e- 
 cipuam partem bona senectutis, in bona conscientia ani- 
 moque ; sereno ac tranquillo consist ere. A good heart, 
 filled with the love and peace of God and the soul of 
 an Abraham. 
 
 In consideration of this evyrjpta, it was not amiss 
 for a grandson, upon the birthday on which he entered 
 fourscore, thus to compliment him. 
 
 To my most honored Grandfather, on the day of his 
 enteri?ig the eightieth year of his age. 
 
 To my Grandfather in all good so great, 
 
 His nephew does his age congratulate. 
 
 'Tis not enough, Sir, that you live to see 
 
 Such years 5 we hope you'll our true Nestor be. 
 
 We wish the years in which you live and preach, 
 
 To those of a Methuselah may reach. 
 
 'Tis true, in common reckoning we suppose 
 
 You want eight hundred eighty-six of those, 
 
 But measuring life by works and not by years, 
 
 Your age nine hundred sixty-nine appears. 
 
 Methuselah had a bright father too ; 
 
 A " walker with his God ; " Sir, such as you. 
 
 If you and we must have a parting day, 
 
 Death, strike not ! — Let him go in Enoch's way 
 
 And Sir, if prophets mayn't forever live, 
 
 May you in Grandsons left by you survive. 
 
276 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 But it is now time for me to tell that after four- 
 score the report of Moses did no longer want con- 
 firmation with him. He began to be more sensible 
 of those decays which not only caused him to recite 
 the verse of the Roman satirist : 
 
 quam continuity et quantis, plena senectus longa malts ! . 
 
 but also caused him several times to say to me : " Be 
 sure, you don't pray that you may live beyond four- 
 score ! " Yet now he preached nobly on (f An Old 
 Disciple ; " as well as many other subjects. 
 
 And now, he that had wished for *f sufferings for 
 the Lord," must be content with sufferings from the 
 Lord. Even these borne with the faith and patience 
 of the saints have a sort of martyrdom in them, and 
 will add unto the '* far more exceeding and eternal 
 weight of glory." 
 
 On September 25th, he did with an excellent and 
 pathetic prayer, in a mighty auditory, conclude a '* day 
 of prayer" kept by his church, to obtain a good suc- 
 cess of the Gospel and the growth of real and vital 
 piety, with plentiful effusions of the good Spirit, espe- 
 cially upon the " Rising Generation." Within two 
 days after this he fell into an apoplectic sort of deli- 
 quium (very much occasioned, as it was thought, by 
 too extreme a concern of his mind on some late occur- 
 rences at New Haven), out of which he recovered in 
 a few minutes ; but it so enfeebled him, that he never 
 went abroad any more. 
 
 However, his "wisdom yet remained with him." 
 
VERSES FROM THE MAGNALIA. 277 
 
 VERSES FROM THE MAGNALIA. 
 
 Cotton Mather was no poet, but like many of 
 nis quaint predecessors of the seventeenth century he 
 thought it added dignity to his pages to insert poet- 
 ical tributes to the distinguished men about whom 
 he wrote. Some of these elegies and epitaphs were 
 written by himself in the fantastic style of two gen- 
 erations before. Others, such as the lines on John 
 Cotton by Benjamin Woodbridge, given in our first 
 volume, were gathered from other sources. We here 
 select some of Mather's own lines, some contributed 
 by the Rev. Nicholas Noyes (1647-17 17), pastor at 
 Salem, the most fantastic of all our poets and an in- 
 veterate punster, an epitaph by the ** ingenious mer- 
 chant," Mr. Samuel Bache, and a few verses by a 
 certain Benjamin Thompson (1642-1714), who has 
 the credit of being our first native born poet, of whom, 
 however, very little is known. His New England 1 s 
 Crisis, which is supposed to be an epic of King Philip's 
 War, seems to have been preserved only in selections, 
 but our specimen of Thompson's verse will hardly 
 cause great regrets for the fate of his magum opus. 
 
278 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 "A PREFATORY POEM, ON THAT EX- 
 CELLENT BOOK, ENTITULED MAGNA- 
 LIA CHRIST I AMERICANA; WRITTEN 
 BY THE REV. MR. COTTON MATHER, 
 PASTOR OF A CHURCH AT BOSTON, 
 NEW ENGLAND." 
 
 By Nicholas Noyes. 
 
 to the candid reader. 
 
 Struck with huge love, of what to be possest, 
 
 I much despond, good reader, in the quest ; 
 
 Yet help me, if at length it may be said, 
 
 Who first the chambers of the south display' d ? 
 
 Inform me, whence the tawny people came ? 
 
 Who was their father, Japhet, Shem, or Cham ? 
 
 And how they straddled to th' Antipodes, 
 
 To look another world beyond the seas ? 
 
 And when, and why, and where they last broke 
 
 ground, 
 What risks they ran, where they first anchoring 
 
 found ? 
 Tell me their patriarchs, prophets, priests, and kings, 
 Religion, manners, monumental things : 
 What charters had they ? What immunities ? 
 What altars, temples, cities, colonies, 
 Did they erect ? Who were their public spirits ? 
 Where may we find the records of their merits ? 
 What instances, what glorious displays 
 Ofheav'n's high hand, commenced in their days? 
 These things in black oblivion covered o'er, 
 
A PREFATORY POEM. 279 
 
 (As they'd ne'er been) lie with a thousand more, 
 
 A vexing thought, that makes me scarce forbear, 
 
 To stamp, and wring my hands, and pluck my hair, 
 
 To think, what blessed ignorance hath done, 
 
 What fine threads learning's enemies have spun, 
 
 How well books, schools, and college may be spared, 
 
 So men with beasts may fitly be compared ! 
 
 Yes, how tradition leaves us in the lurch, 
 
 And who, nor stay at home,, nor go to church : 
 
 The light-within-enthusiasts, who let fly 
 
 Against our pen and ink divinity, 
 
 Who boldly do pretend (but who'll believe it) ? 
 
 If Genesis were lost, they could retrieve it ; 
 
 Yea, all the sacred writ ; pray let them try 
 
 On the New Word, their gift of prophecy. 
 
 For all them, the new world's antiquities, 
 
 Smother' d in everlasting silence lies : 
 
 ^ 5{C %. %. $z 
 
 Who can past things to memory command, 
 Tiil one with Aaron's breast-plate up shall stand? 
 Mischiefs remediless such sloth ensue ; 
 God and their parents lose their honor due, 
 And children's children suffer on that score, 
 Like bastards cast forlorn at any door ; 
 And they and others put to seek their father, 
 For want of such a scribe as Cotton Mather ; 
 Whose piety, whose pains, and peerless pen, 
 Revives New England's nigh-lost origin. 
 
 *T* *T* *T* *T^ f 
 
 He hath related academic things, 
 
 And paid their first fruits to the King of kings ; 
 
 And Alma Mater that just favor, 
 
280 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 To shew sal gentium hath not lost its savor. 
 
 He writes like an historian, and divine, 
 
 Of Churches, Synods, Faith, and Discipline. 
 
 The stuff is true, the trimming neat and spruce, 
 The workman's good, the work of public use ; 
 Most piously designed, a public store. 
 And well deserves the public thanks, and more. 
 
 UPON THE DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM 
 PHIPS, KNT. 
 
 Late Captain General and Governotjr in Chief 
 of the Province of the Massachuset-bay in 
 New-England, who expired at London, Feb. 
 1694-1695. 
 
 And to Mortality a sacrifice 
 
 Falls he, whose deeds must him immortalize ! 
 
 Rejoice, Messieurs ; Netops rejoice ; 'tis true, 
 Ye Philistines, none will rejoice but you : 
 Loving of all he dy'd ; who love him not 
 Now, have the grace of publicans forgot. 
 Our Almanacks foretold a great eclipse, 
 This they foresaw not, of our greater Phips. 
 Phips our great friend, our wonder, and our glory, 
 The terror of our foes, the world's rare story. 
 England will boast him too whose noble mind 
 [mpell'd by Angels, did those treasures find, 
 Long in the bottom of the ocean laid, 
 Which her three hundred thousand richer made, 
 8y silver yet ne'er canker' d, nor defil'd 
 
DEATH OF SIR WILLIAM PH1PS. 28 1 
 
 By Honor, nor betray' d when Fortune smil'd. 
 Since this bright Phcebus visited our shore, 
 We saw no fogs but what were rais'd before : 
 Those vanish' d too ; harass' d by bloody wars 
 Our land saw peace, by his most generous cares. 
 The wolvish Pagans at his dreaded name, 
 Tam'd, shrunk before him, and his dogs became ! 
 Fell Moxus and fierce Dockawando fall, 
 Charm' d at the feet of our brave general. 
 
 * * * * # 
 Stout to a prodigy : living in pain 
 
 To send back Quebec-bullets once again. 
 Thunder, his music, sweeter than the spheres, 
 Chim'd roaring canons in his martial ears. 
 Frigates of armed men could not withstand, 
 'Twas tried, the force of his one sw r ordless hand : 
 Hand, which in one, all of Briareus had, 
 And Hercules' twelve toils but pleasures made. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 Now lest ungrateful brands we should incur, 
 Your salary we'll pay in tears, great Sir ! 
 
 *f* *fc *yC ^[^ ^ 
 
 But thou chief loser, poor New-England, speak 
 Thy dues to such as did thy welfare seek, 
 The governour that vow'd to rise and fall 
 With thee, thy fate shows in his funeral. 
 Write now his epitaph, 'twill be thine own, 
 Let it be this, A PUBLIC SPIRIT'S GONE. 
 Or, but name PHI PS ; more needs not be exprest ; 
 Both Englands, and next ages, tell the rest. 
 
282 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 REMARKS. 
 
 On the Bright and the Dark Side of that 
 American Pillar, the Reverend Mr. William 
 Thompson ; Pastor of the Church at Brain- 
 tree. Who triumphed on Dec. io, 1666. 
 
 But may a rural pen try to set forth 
 
 Such a great father's ancient grace and worth ! 
 
 I undertake a no less arduous theme, 
 
 Than the old sages found the Chaldee dream. 
 
 'Tis more than Tithes of a profound respect, 
 
 That must be paid such a Melchizedeck. 
 
 Oxford this light, with tongues and arts doth trim ; 
 And then his northern town doth challenge him. 
 His time and strength he center' d there in this ; 
 To do good work, and be what now he is. 
 His fulgent virtues there, and learned strains, 
 Tall, comely presence, life unsoil'd with stains, 
 Things most on worthies, in their stories writ, 
 Did him to moves in orbs of service fit. 
 Things more peculiar yet, my muse, intend, 
 Say stranger things than these ; so weep and end. 
 
 When he forsook first his Oxonian cell, 
 Some scores at once from popish darkness fell ; 
 So this reformer studied ! rare first fruits ! 
 Shaking a crab-tree thus by hot disputes, 
 The acid juice by miracle turned wine, 
 And rais'd the spirits of our young divine. 
 Hearers, like doves, flock' d with contentious wing, 
 
REMARKS. 283 
 
 Who should be first, feed most, most homeward bring, 
 Laden with honey, like Hybla?an bees, 
 They knead it into combs upon their knees. 
 
 Apollyon owing him a cursed spleen 
 
 Who an Apollos in the church had been, 
 
 Dreading his traffic here would be undone 
 
 By num'rous proselytes he daily won, 
 
 Accus'd him of imaginary faults, 
 
 And push'd him down so into dismal vaults : 
 
 Vaults, where he kept long Ember- weeks of grief, 
 
 Till Heaven alarmed sent him in relief. 
 
 Then was a Daniel in the lions' den, 
 
 A man, oh, how belov'd of God and men ! 
 
 By his bed-side an Hebrew sword there lay, 
 
 With which at last he drove the devil away. 
 
 Quakers too durst not bear his keen replies, 
 
 But fearing it half drawn, the trembler flies. 
 
 Like Lazarus, new rais'd from death, appears 
 
 The saint that had been dead for many years. 
 
 Our Nehemiah said, Shall such as I 
 
 Desert my flock, and like a coward fly ! 
 
 Long had the churches begg'd the saint's release ; 
 
 Releas'd at last, he dies in glorious peace. 
 
 The night is not so long, but phosphor's ray 
 
 Approaching glories doth on high display. 
 
 Faith's eye in him discern' d the morning star, 
 
 His heart leap'd ; sure the sun cannot be far. 
 
 In extasies of joy, he ravish' d cries, 
 
 Love, love the lamb, the lamb ! in whom he dies. 
 
284 COTTON MATHER. 
 
 AN " ELEGANT ELEGY WHICH MR. SAM- 
 UEL BACHE, AN INGENIOUS MER- 
 CHANT, MADE" UPON THE REV. 
 JOHN WILSON. 
 
 When as the poor want succor, where is he 
 
 Can say, all can be said, extempore ? 
 
 Vie with the lightning, and melt down to th' quick 
 
 Their souls, and make themselves their pockets pick ? 
 
 Where's such a leader, thus has got the slight 
 
 T' teach holy hands to war, fingers to fight ; 
 
 Their arrow hit ? Bowels to bowels meant it, 
 
 God, Christ, and saints, accept, but Wilson sent it. 
 
 Which way so e'er the propositions move, 
 
 The ergo of his syllogism' s love. 
 
 So bountiful to all : but if the poor 
 
 Was christian too, all's money went, and more, 
 
 His coat, rug, blanket, gloves ; he thought their due 
 
 Was all his money, garments, one of two. 
 
 UPON THE VERY REVEREND SAMUEL 
 WHITING. 
 
 By Benjamin Thompson. 
 
 Mount fame, the glorious chariot of the sun ; 
 Through the world's cirque, all you, her heralds, 
 
 run : 
 And let this great saint's merits be reveal' d, 
 Which, during life, he studiously conceal' d. 
 Cite all the Levites, fetch the sons of art, 
 
AN ELEGANT ELEGY. 285 
 
 In these our dolours to sustain a part. 
 Warn all that value worth, and every one 
 Within their eyes to bring an Helicon. 
 For in this single person we have lost 
 More riches, than an India has engrost. 
 
 When Wilson, that plerophory of love, 
 Did from our banks, up to his center move, 
 Rare Whiting quotes Columbus on this coast, 
 Producing gems, of which a king might boast. 
 More splendid far than ever Aaron wore, 
 Within his breast, this sacred father bore. 
 Sound doctrine Urim, in his holy cell, 
 And all perfections Thummim there did dwell. 
 His holy vesture was his innocence, 
 His speech embroideries of curious sense. 
 Such awful gravity this doctor us'd, 
 As if an angel every word infus'd. 
 
 No turgent style, but Asiatic store ; 
 
 Conduits were almost full, seldom run o'er 
 
 The banks of Time : come visit when you will, 
 
 The streams of nectar were descending still : 
 
 Much like Septemfluous Nilus, rising so, 
 
 He watered christians round, and made them grow. 
 
 His modest whispers could the conscience reach, 
 
 As well as whirlwinds, which some others preach ; 
 
 No Boanerges, yet could touch the heart, 
 
 And clench his doctrine by the meekest art. 
 
 His learning and his language, might become 
 
 A province not inferior to Rome. 
 
 Glorious was Europe's heaven when such as these 
 
 Stars of his size, shone in each diocese. 
 
 .;'. 3|C , , ( JfS 5j» *J» 
 
SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 Samuel Sewall, whose Diary has done more than 
 any other book to make the intimate life of New- 
 England, toward the close of the seventeenth and in 
 the early decades of the eighteenth century, familiar to 
 modern readers, was born in Bishopstoke, England, 
 in 1652 and died in Boston, Massachusetts, in 1730. 
 He was brought to New England in youth, entered 
 Harvard at fifteen, took his Bachelor's and Master's de- 
 grees in due course, studied Divinity and had entered 
 on the ministry, when his marriage in 1677 diverted 
 him from this career and turned him to public life, in 
 which his father-in-law, John Hull, held offices of 
 trust and distinction. He first took charge of the 
 Colonial Printing Press, but in 1684 was chosen 
 Assistant Governor, and in 1688 spent a year in 
 England. On his return he was again chosen Assist- 
 ant Governor, and in 1692 Member of the Council 
 and Judge of the Probate Court. This brought him 
 into prominence in the Salem Witchcraft Trials, 
 into which he entered with conscientious zeal for the 
 fulfilment of duty, but soon after, having convinced 
 himself of error, was the only one of the judges im- 
 plicated in that affair who confessed publicly his mis- 
 take in what was then called a (t Bill," read before 
 the congregation of the Old South Church by the 
 minister in January of 1697, Sewall himself remaining 
 286 
 
SAMUEL SEWALL. 287 
 
 standing in his pew during the reading. Till the 
 end of his life, for thirty-one years, he set apart annu- 
 ally a day of fasting, meditation, and prayer in token 
 of his offence, and it seems to have had a permanent 
 effect upon his character. In 1 699 the English Society 
 for the Propagation of the Gospel made him a Com- 
 missioner and afterward their Secretary and Treasurer 
 for New England. In 1 700 he issued what seems to 
 be the first American anti-slavery tract The Selling of 
 Joseph, and this was but indicative of a sympathy with 
 the oppressed that characterized a benevolent and chari- 
 table career. For ten years, from 1718 to 1728, he 
 was Chief Justice of Massachusetts. During his lifetime 
 he published only four small treatises, The Selling of 
 Joseph, The Accomplishment of Prophecies, in 1 7 1 3 ; 
 a Memorial relating to the Kennebec Indians, in 1 72 1 , 
 and a Description of the New Heaven (1727). 
 Eclipsing all these in importance and interest are the 
 Diary, and the Letters published by the Mass. Hist. 
 Soc. (187 8- 1882). They exhibit a man of high 
 ability and sterling character, certainly one of the most 
 remarkable men of his generation in New England, 
 and they show also the political, civil, and social life 
 of the times, as only the minute diary of a man of 
 judicious temper and the widest social and civic oppor- 
 tunity could do. 
 
 Of SewalPs character the Boston Weekly Newsletter 
 of January 8th, 1730, said : " He was universally and 
 greatly reverenced, esteemed, and beloved amongst 
 us for his eminent piety, learning, and wisdom ; his 
 grave and venerable aspect and carriage ; his instruc- 
 tive, affable, and cheerful conversation ; his strict in- 
 tegrity and regard to justice ; his extraordinary tender 
 
288 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 and compassionate heart ; his neglect of the world ; 
 his abundant liberality ; his catholic and public spirit ; 
 his critical acquaintance with the Scriptures in their 
 inspired originals ; his zeal for the purity of instituted 
 worship ; his constant, diligent, and reverent attend- 
 ance in it, both in the church and family ; his love 
 for the churches, people, and ministers, the civil and 
 religious interest of this country ; his tender concern 
 for the aboriginal natives ; and as the crown of all, 
 his moderation, peaceableness, and humility ; which, 
 being all united in the same person, and in an high 
 degree and station, rendered him one of the most shin- 
 ing lights and honors of the age and land wherein he 
 lived, and worthy of a very distinguished regard in 
 the New English Histories."- — {Sewall Papers, 
 Vol. III. p. 410.) 
 
 FROM THE DIARY OF SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 Discipline at Harvard College. 
 
 Monday, June 15, 1674. . . . Thomas Sar- 
 geant was examined by the Corporation : finally, 
 the advice of Mr. Danforth, Mr. Stoughton, Mr. 
 Thatcher, Mr. Mather (then present) was taken. 
 This was his sentence. 
 
 That being convicted of speaking blasphemous 
 words concerning the H. G. he should be therefore 
 publicly whipped before all the Scholars. 2. That 
 he should be suspended as to taking his degree of 
 Bachelor (this sentence read before him twice at the 
 Prts. before this committee, and in the library 1 up 
 
DIARY OF SAMUEL SEWALL. 289 
 
 before execution.) 3. Sit alone by himself in the 
 Hall uncovered at meals, during the pleasure of the 
 President and Fellows, and be in all things obedient, 
 doing what exercise was appointed him by the Presi- 
 dent, or else be finally expelled from the College. 
 The first was presently put in execution in the Li- 
 brary (Mr. Danforth Jr. being present) before the 
 Scholars. He kneeled down and the instrument 
 Goodman Hely attended the President's word as to 
 the performance of his part in the work. Prayer 
 was had before and after by the President. July 1, 
 1674. $' lr Thatcher commonplaced, Justification was 
 his head. He had a good solid piece : stood above 
 an hour and yet brake off before he came to any use. 
 By reason that there was no warning given, none 
 (after the undergraduates) were present, save Mr. 
 Dan Gookin, Sr., the President and myself. July 
 3, 1674. N.B. Mr. Gookin, Jr., was gone a fish- 
 ing with his brothers. 
 
 April 4, 1675, Sab. day. I holp preach for my 
 Master (Mr. Parker) in the afternoon. Being afraid 
 to look on the glass, ignorantly and unwillingly I stood 
 two hours and a half. 
 
 The Pangs of Despised Love. 
 
 Saturday Even. Aug. 12, 1676, just as prayer 
 ended Tim. Dwight sank down in a swoon, and for 
 a good space was as if he perceived not what was 
 done to him : after, kicked and sprawled, knocking 
 his hands and feet upon the floor like a distracted man. 
 Was carried pickpack to bed by John Alcock, there 
 
290 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 his clothes pulled off. In the night it seems he talked 
 of ships, his master, father and uncle Eliot. The 
 Sabbath following Father went to him, spake to him 
 to know what ailed him, asked if he would be prayed 
 for, and for what he would desire his friends to pray. 
 He answered, for more sight of sin, and God's heal- 
 ing grace. I asked him, being alone with him, whether 
 his troubles were from some outward cause or spiritual. 
 He answered, spiritual. I asked him why then he 
 could not tell it his master, as well as any other, since 
 it is the honor of any man to see sin and be sorry for it. 
 He gave no answer, as I remember. Asked him if he 
 would go to meeting. He said, 'twas in vain for 
 him ; his day was out. I asked, what day ; he an- 
 swered, of Grace. I told him 'twas sin for any one 
 to conclude themselves reprobate, that this was all 
 one. He said he would speak more, but could not, 
 &c. Notwithstanding all this semblance (and much 
 more than is written) of compunction for sin, 'tis to 
 be feared that his trouble arose from a maid whom he 
 passionately loved : for that when Mr. Dwight and 
 his master had agreed to let him go to her, he eft- 
 soons grew well. 
 
 Spiritual Lessons in Chicken Food. 
 
 Jan. 13, 1676/7. Giving my chickens meat, it 
 came to my mind that I gave them nothing save Indian 
 corn and water, and yet they eat it and thrived very 
 well, and that that food was necessary for them, how 
 mean soever, which much affected me and convinced 
 what need I stood in of spiritual food, and that I 
 should not nauseate daily duties of prayer, &c. 
 
DIARY OF SAMUEL SEWALL. 29 1 
 
 Regulations of the South Watch Company 
 of Boston. 
 
 (1679). For tne better inspection of the several 
 Watches and the four several Guards in this Town 
 of Boston. It is ordered, agreed and concluded by 
 the Committee of Militia for the said Town, that the 
 eight Foot Companies by their Commission Officers 
 and Sergeants (being seven in each company) or for 
 want thereof, or by reason of any other hindrance, a 
 sufficient supply be made at the discretion of the rest 
 of the Officers of said Company : Also the Officers of 
 the Troop that live in the Town (eight) or for want 
 thereof to be supplied of their troopers, as abovesaid : 
 which said sixty four men shall each in their respec- 
 tive turn as hereafter mentioned take unto them one 
 or two more that live in the Precincts of their own 
 Company who shall walk every night (in their sev- 
 eral turn) throughout the Town in every Quarter, 
 and shall take inspection of the several Guards and 
 Watches, how they are managed, and give such direc- 
 tions as to them shall seem meet for the better dis- 
 charge of their duty according to law. Taking the 
 care and charge of all the Watches in the Town in 
 their respective nights ; Who shall march with an 
 half pike with a fair head, by which he may be 
 known to the Commander of the Watch and in the 
 morning leave the same with him whose turn is next, 
 which shall be accounted a sufficient warning or notice 
 to the next Commander to take his turn. 
 
292 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 HOW THEY KEPT CHRISTMAS DaY. 
 
 Dec. 25. Friday, 1685. Carts come to Town and 
 shops open as is usual. Some somehow observe the 
 day ; but are vexed I believe that the body of the 
 people profane it, and blessed be God no authority 
 yet to compell them to keep it. A great snow fell 
 last night so this day and night very cold. 
 
 Puritan Hostility to Anglican Worship. 
 
 Saturday, June 23, 1688. Capt. Frary and I 
 go to his Excellency at the Secretaries, Office, and 
 there desired that he would not alter his time of 
 meeting, and that Mr. Willard consented to no such 
 thing, neither did he count that 'twas in his power so 
 to do. Mr. West said he went not to ask Mr. Wil- 
 lard leave. His Excellency asked who the house 
 [the Old South Meeting House] belong' d to ; we told 
 Him the title to the House was on record. His 
 Excellency turned to Mr. Graham and said Mr. At- 
 torney we will have that look'd into. Governor said 
 if Mr. Willard not the Parson, so great an Assembly 
 must be considered. We said he was master of the 
 Assembly, but had no power to dispose of the House, 
 neither had others, for the deed expressed the use 
 'twas to be put to. Governor complain' d of our long 
 staying Sabbath-day sennight ; said 'twas the Lord's 
 Supper, and (he) had promised to go to some other 
 House on such days ; Mr. Randolph said he knew 
 of no such promise, and the Governor seemed angry 
 and said he would not so break his word for all the 
 Massachusetts Colony, and therefore, to avoid mis- 
 
DIARY OF SAMUEL SEWALL. 293 
 
 takes, must give in writing what we had to say ; we 
 answered Mr. Randolph brought not any writing to 
 those he spake to. Governor said we rent off from 
 the old Church against the Government, and the 
 land the House stood on was bought clandestinely, 
 and that one should say he would defend the work 
 with his Company of soldiers. Mention' d folks back- 
 wardness to give, and the unreasonableness ; because 
 if any stinking filthy thing were in the House we 
 would give something to have it carried out, but would 
 not give to build them an house : Said came from 
 England to avoid such and such things, therefore could 
 not give to set them up here : and the Bishops would 
 have thought strange to have been asked to contribute 
 towards setting up the New-England Churches. Gov- 
 ernor said God willing they would begin at eight in 
 the Morning and have done by nine : we said 'twould 
 hardly be so in winter. Mr. Graham said if they had 
 their service by candle-light what was that to any : 
 And that the service appointed by the Church for 
 morning could not be held after noon. 
 
 Sabbath, June 24. We read and sing in course 
 the 57th Psal. Aitaschith. They (the Church of 
 England congregation) have done before nine in the 
 morn, and about a quarter after one in the afternoon ; 
 so we have very convenient time. 
 
 July 1. Governor takes his old time again after 
 our coming out, and Sir William Phips' chaplain 
 preaches. We were a little hurried and disappointed 
 in the morning the Bell ringing about quarter before 
 
294 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 Domestic Amenities and a Catastrophe. 
 
 Tuesday, Jan. 12, 169 1/2. . . . This night 
 (blank) Hamlen, formerly Plats, before that, Crab- 
 tree, a middle-aged woman, through some displeasure 
 at her son, whom she beat, sat not down to supper 
 with her husband and a stranger at table ; when 
 they had done, she took away, and in the room 
 where she set it, took a piece of grisly . meat of a 
 shoulder of mutton into her mouth, which got into 
 the top of the larynx and stopt it fast, so she was 
 presently choked. Tho. Pemberton and others 
 found it so when they opened her throat. She 
 gave a stamp with her foot and put her finger in her 
 mouth : but Pemberton not at home, and died imme- 
 diately. What need have all to acknowledge God 
 in whose hand their breath is, &c. 
 
 Comfort in Tribulation. 
 
 Saturday, Feb. 27, 169 1/2. Between 4. and 
 5. mane, we are startled at the roaring of a beast, 
 which I conjectur'd to be an ox broken loose from 
 a butcher, running along the street, but proved to be 
 our own Cow bitten by a dog, so that were forc'd 
 to kill her ; though calved but Jan. 4th and gives 
 plenty of milk. Happy are they, who have God 
 for their Spring and Breast of Supplies. Exceeding 
 high wind this day at North East. 
 
 Notes on the Witchcraft Persecution. 
 
 April nth, 1692. Went to Salem, where, in 
 the Meeting-house, the persons accused of Witch- 
 
DIARY OF SAMUEL SEWALL. 295 
 
 craft were examined ; was a very great Assembly ; 
 ' twas awful to see how the afflicted persons were 
 agitated. Mr. Noyes pray'd at the beginning, and 
 Mr. Higginson concluded. {In the margin^) Vae, 
 Vae, Vae, Witchcraft. 
 
 Augt. 19th, 1692. . . . This day {in the mar- 
 gin, Doleful Witchcraft) George Burrough, John 
 Willard, Jno. Procter, Martha Carrier, and George 
 Jacobs were executed at Salem, a very great number 
 of spectators being present. Mr. Cotton Mather 
 was there, Mr. Sims, Hale, Noyes, Chiever &c. 
 All of them said they were innocent, Carrier and all. 
 Mr. Mather said they all died by a righteous sen- 
 tence. Mr. Burrough by his speech, prayer, pro- 
 testation of his innocence, did much move unthinking 
 persons, which occasions their speaking hardly con- 
 cerning his being executed. 
 
 Monday, Sept. 19, 1692. About noon, at Salem, 
 Giles Corey was press'd to death for standing mute ; 
 much pains were used with him two days, one after 
 another, by the Court and Capt. Gardner of Nan- 
 tucket who had been of his acquaintance ; but all in 
 
 Sept. 20. Now I hear from Salem that about 1 8 
 years ago, he was suspected to have stamped and 
 press' d a man to death, but was cleared. 'Twas 
 not remembered till Anne Putnam was told of it by 
 Corey's spectre the Sabbath-day night before the 
 execution. 
 
2g6 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 Sept. 21, 1692. A petition is sent to Town 
 in behalf of Dorcas Hoar who now confesses : Ac- 
 cordingly an order is sent to the Sheriff to forbear 
 her execution, notwithstanding her being in the 
 warrant to die to-morrow. This is the first con- 
 demned person who has confess' d. 
 
 1696/7. (Petition put up by Mr. Sewall on the 
 Fast Day.) 
 
 Copy of the Bill I put up on the Fast day ; giv- 
 ing it to Mr. Willard as he pass'd by, and standing 
 up at the reading of it, and bowing when finished ; in 
 the Afternoon. 
 
 Samuel Sewall, sensible of the reiterated strokes of 
 God upon himself and family ; and being sensible, 
 that as to the guilt contracted upon the opening of 
 the late Commission of Oyer and Terminer at Salem 
 (to which the order for this Day relates), he is, upon 
 many accounts, more concerned than any that he 
 knows of, Desires to take the blame and shame of it, 
 Asking pardon of men, And especially desiring prayers 
 that God, who has an unlimited authority, would 
 pardon that sin and all other sins ; personal and rela- 
 tive ; And, according to his infinite benignity and 
 sovereignty, not visit the sin of him, or of any other, 
 upon himself or any of his, nor upon the land : But 
 that He would powerfully defend him against all 
 temptations to sin, for the future ; and vouchsafe 
 him the efficacious, saving conduct of his Word and 
 Spirit. 
 
DIARY OF SAMUEL SEWALL. 297 
 
 Young Joseph and the Old Adam. 
 
 Nov. 6, 1692. Joseph threw a knop of brass 
 and hit his Sister Betty on the forehead so as to make 
 it bleed and swell ; upon which, and for his playing 
 at Prayer-time, and eating when Return Thanks, I 
 whipped him pretty smartly. When I first went in 
 (called by his Grandmother) he sought to shadow 
 and hide himself from me behind the head of the 
 cradle : which gave me the sorrowful remembrance 
 of Adam's carriage. 
 
 A Critic Criticised. 
 
 Sept. 10, 1696. Letter. Mrs. Martha Oakes. 
 Not finding opportunity to speak with you at your 
 house, nor at my own, I write to persuade you to be 
 sensible that your striking your daughter-in-law before 
 me, in my house, is not justifiable : though 'twas but 
 a small blow, 'twas not a small fault : especially con- 
 sidering your promise to refrain from speech itself; 
 or at least any that might give disturbance. As for 
 New England, it is a cleaner country than ever you 
 were in before, and, therefore, with disdain to term 
 \\ filthy is a sort of blasphemy, which, by proceeding 
 out of your mouth, hath defiled you. I write not 
 this to upbraid, but to admonish you, with whom I 
 sympathize under your extraordinary provocations 
 and pressures ; and pray God command you freedom 
 from them. S. S, 
 
298 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 Night Thoughts of Harvard. 
 
 Jan. 26, 1696. I lodged at Charlestown at 
 
 Mrs. Shepard's, who tells me Mr. Harvard built that 
 house. I lay in the chamber next the street. As I 
 lay awake past midnight, in my meditation, I was 
 affected to consider how long ago God had made 
 provision for my comfortable lodging that night ; see- 
 ing that was Mr. Harvard's house : And that led me 
 to think of Heaven the House not made with hands, 
 which God for many thousands of years has been 
 storing with the richest furniture (saints that are from 
 time to time placed there), and that I had some hopes 
 of being entertained in that magnificent convenient 
 Palace, every way fitted and furnished. These 
 thoughts were very refreshing to me. 
 
 Thoughts on Slavery. 
 
 Fourth-day, June 19, 1700. . . . Having been 
 long and much dissatisfied with the trade of fetching 
 Negroes from Guinea ; at last I had a strong inclina- 
 tion to write something about it ; but it wore off. 
 At last reading Bayne, Ephes. about servants, who 
 mentions Blackamoors ; I began to be uneasy that I 
 had so long neglected doing anything. When I was 
 thus thinking, in came Bro. Belknap to show me a 
 petition he intended to present to Gen 1 Court for 
 the freeing of a Negro and his wife, who were 
 unjustly held in bondage. And there is a motion 
 by a Boston Committee to get a law that all im- 
 porters of Negroes shall pay 401 per head, to dis- 
 courage the bringing of them. And Mr. C. Mather 
 
DIARY OF SAMUEL SEWALL 299 
 
 resolves to publish a sheet to exhort masters to labor 
 their conversion. Which makes me hope that I was 
 called of God to write this apology for them. Let 
 his blessing accompany the same. 
 
 Speech at his Mother's Grave. 
 
 Jany. 4th, 1 700/1. . . . Went abt. 4 p.m. 
 Nathan 1 Bricket taking in hand to fill the grave, I 
 said, Forbear a little, and suffer me to say that amidst 
 our bereaving sorrows we have the comfort of be- 
 holding this saint put into the rightful possession of 
 that happiness of living desir'd and dying lamented. 
 She liv'd commendably four and fifty years with her 
 dear husband, and my dear father : And she could 
 not well brook the being divided from him at her 
 death ; which is the cause of our taking leave of her 
 in this place. She was a true and constant lover of 
 God's Word, worship and saints : And she always, 
 with a patient cheerfulness, submitted to the divine 
 decree of providing bread for her self and others in 
 the sweat of her brows. And now her infinitely 
 gracious and bountiful Master has promoted her to 
 the honor of higher employments, fully and abso- 
 lutely discharged from all manner of toil and sweat. 
 My honored and beloved Friends and Neighbors ! 
 My dear mother never thought much of doing the 
 most frequent and homely offices of love for me : and 
 lavished away many thousands of words upon me, 
 before I could return one word in answer : And 
 therefore I ask and hope that none will be offended 
 that I have now ventured to speak one word in her 
 behalf; when she herself has become speechless. 
 
300 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 Made a motion with my hand for the filling of the 
 grave. Note. I could hardly speak for passion 
 and tears. 
 
 Judge Sewall elected Captain of the Artillery 
 Company. 
 
 Monday, June 2, 1701. Mr. Pemberton preaches 
 the Artillery Sermon from Luke, 3-14. Dine at 
 Monk's. Because of the rain and mist, this day, 
 the election is made upon the Town-house, Sewall, 
 Capt. : Tho. Hutchinson, Lieut. ; Tho. Savage, 
 jun r , Ensign. ; Tho. Fitch. 1 Sergt. ; Oliver Noyes 
 2 : Hab. Savage 3 ; Charles Chauncy 4. Called 
 down the Council out of the Chamber, set their 
 chairs below ; Col. Pynchon gave the Staves and 
 Ensign. I said was surprised to see they had mis- 
 taken a sorry pruning hook for a military, spear ; but 
 paid such a deference to the Company that would rather 
 run the venture of exposing my own inability than 
 give any occasion to suspect I slighted their call. To 
 Serg* Fitch, Doubted not but if I could give any 
 thing tolerable words of command, he would mend 
 them in a vigorous and speedy performance : was 
 glad of so good a hand to me and the Company 
 (Mr. Noyes abroad in the Gaily). To Hab Sav- 
 age] , The savages are soldiers ex traduce ; in imita- 
 tion of his honored father, uncle and grandfather, 
 hoped for worthy performance from him. To Ch. 
 Chauncy, Had such a honor for your grandfather 
 and father that was glad was join d with me in this 
 relation. Drew out before Mr. Usher's, gave 3 
 volleys. Drew into Townhouse again ; sent Serg* 
 
DIARY OF SAMUEL SEWALL. 301 
 
 Chauncy for Mr. Pemberton, who said he was glad 
 to see the staff in my hands ; pray'd with us. Had 
 the company to my house, treated them with bread, 
 beer, wine sillibub. — They ordered Capt. Checkly 
 and me to thank Mr. Pemberton for his sermon, 
 which we did on Tuesday, desiring a copy. June 4. 
 Bro r comes to Town, I treat him at Plyes : goes home. 
 
 The Casuistry of the Wig. 
 
 Tuesday, June 10 th Having last night heard that 
 Josiah Willard had cut off his hair (a very full head 
 of hair) and put on a wig, I went to him this morn- 
 ing. Told his mother what I came about, and she 
 called him. I inquired of him what extremity had 
 forced him to put off his own hair, and put on a 
 wig ? He answered, none at all. But said that 
 his hair was straight and that it parted behind. 
 Seemed to argue that men might as well shave their 
 hair off their head, as off their face. I answered 
 men were men before they had hair on their faces, 
 (half of mankind never have any). God seems to 
 have ordained our hair as a test, to see whether we 
 can bring our minds to be content to be at his find- 
 ing : or whether we would be our own carvers, 
 lords, and come no more at him. If disliked our 
 skin, our nails ; 'tis no thanks to us, that for all 
 that, we cut them not off: Pain and danger restrain 
 us. Your calling is to teach men self denial. 
 Twill be most displeasing and burdensome to good 
 men : And they that care not what men think of 
 them care not what God thinks of them. Father, 
 Bro r Simon, Mr. Pemberton, Mr. Wigglesworth, 
 
J02 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 Oakes, Noyes (Oliver), Brattle of Cambridge, their 
 example. Allow me to be so far a Censor Morum 
 for this end of the Town. Pray'd him to read the 
 Tenth Chapter of the Third book of Calvin's Insti- 
 tutions. I read it this morning in course, not of 
 choice. Told him it was condemned by a Meeting 
 of Ministers at Northampton in Mr. Stoddard's house, 
 when the said Josiah was there. Told him of the 
 Solemnity of the Covenant which he and I had lately 
 entered into, which put me upon discoursing to him. 
 He seemed to say he would leave off his wig when 
 his hair was grown. I spake to his father of it a 
 day or two after : He thank' d me that had discoursed 
 his son, and told me that when his hair was grown 
 to cover his ears, he promised to leave off" his wig. 
 If he had known of it would have forbidden him. 
 His mother heard him talk of it ; but was afraid 
 positively to forbid him ; lest he should do it, and so 
 be more faulty. <\ 
 
 Training Day of the Ancient and Honorable 
 Artillery. 
 
 Monday, Oct. 6, 1701. Very pleasant fair 
 weather ; Artillery trains- in the afternoon (Sewall 
 in command). March with the Company to the 
 Elms ; Go to prayer, March down and shoot at a 
 mark. Mr. Cushing I think was the first that hit it.. 
 Mr. Gerrish twice, Mr. Fitch, Chauncy, and the 
 Ensign of the Officers. By far the most missed, as 
 I did for the first. Were much contented with the 
 exercise. Led them to the Trees again, performed 
 some facings and doublings. Drew them together - 
 
DIARY OF SAMUEL SEWALL. 303 
 
 propounded the question about the Colours ; 'twas 
 voted very freely and fully. I informed the Com- 
 pany I was told the Company's halberds &c. were 
 borrowed ; I understood the leading staff was so, and 
 therefore asked their acceptance of a half-pike, which 
 they very kindly did ; I delivered it to Mr. Gibbs for 
 their use. 
 
 They would needs give me a volley in token of 
 their respect on this occasion. The pike will, I 
 suppose, stand me in forty shillings, being headed and 
 shod with silver : Has this motto fairly engraven : 
 
 Agmen Massachusettense 
 
 est in tutelam Sponsae 
 
 AGNI Uxoris 
 
 1701 
 
 The Lord help us to answer the profession. Were 
 treated by the Ensign in a fair chamber. Gave a 
 very handsome volley at Lodging the Colors. The 
 training in Sept. was a very fair day, so was this. 
 
 A St. George's Day Celebration in Boston. 
 
 Tuesday, Apr. 23, 1706. Govr. comes to 
 Town guarded by the troops with their swords 
 drawn ; dines at the Dragon from thence proceeds to 
 the Townhouse, illuminations at night. Capt. Pel- 
 ham tells me several wore crosses in their hats ; which 
 makes me resolve to stay at home ; (though Maxwell 
 was at my House and spake to me to be at the Coun- 
 cil-Chamber at 4 p. m. ) Because to drinking healths, 
 now the keeping of a day to fictitious St. George is 
 plainly set on foot. It seems Capt. Dudley's men 
 
304 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 wore crosses. Somebody had fastened a cross to a 
 dog's head ; Capt. Dudley's boatswain seeing him, 
 struck the dog, and then went into the shop, next 
 where the dog was, and struck down a carpenter, 
 one Davis, as he was at work, not thinking anything : 
 Boatswain and the other with him were fined 10s 
 each for breach of peace, by Jer. Dummer, Esqr. : 
 pretty much blood was shed by means of this bloody 
 cross, and the poor dog a sufferer. 
 
 A Colonial Wedding. 
 
 Octobr. 29, 1 71 3. . . . In the Evening Mr. 
 Ebenezer Pemberton marries my son Joseph Sevvall 
 and ' Mrs. Elizabeth Walley. Wait Winthrop esqr. 
 and Lady, Samuel Porter esqr., Edmund Quinsey 
 esqr., Ephriam Savage esqr. and wife, Madam Usher, 
 Mr. Mico and wife, Jer. Dummer esqr., Cousin Sam. 
 Storke, Cous. Carter, and many more present. Sung 
 out of the 1 1 5th Ps. zi staves from the 1 ith to the 
 end. W. which I set. Each had a piece of cake and 
 sack-posset. Mr. Pemberton craved a blessing and 
 returned Thanks at eating the sack-posset. Came 
 away between 9 and 10. Daughter Sewall came in 
 the coach with my wife, who invited her to come 
 in and lodge here with her husband ; but she rcfus'd, 
 and said she had promised to go to her Sister Wain- 
 wright's and did so. 
 
 The Love Affairs of a Chief Justice. 
 
 June 9, 1 71 8. . . . Mrs. D n came in the 
 
 morning about nine o'clock and I took her up into my 
 
DIARY OF SAMUEL SEWALL. 305 
 
 chamber and discoursed thoroughly with her ; She 
 desired me to provide another and better nurse. I 
 gave her the two last News Letters — told her I in- 
 tended to visit her at her own house next Lecture Day. 
 She said 'twould be talked of. I answered : Jn such 
 cases, persons must run the gauntlet. Gave her Mr. 
 Whiting's Oration for Abijah Walter, who brought 
 her on horseback to town. I think little or no notice 
 was taken of it. 
 
 October 29, 1719. Thanksgiving Day : between 
 6 and 7 Brother Moody & I went to Mrs. Tilley's, 
 and about 7 or 8, were married by Mr. J. Sewall, in 
 the best room below stairs. Mr. Prince prayed the 
 second time. Mr. Adams the minister at Newington 
 was there, Mr. Oliver and Mr. Timothy Clark, Jus- 
 tices, and many more. Sung the 12, 13, 14, 15 
 and 16 verses of the 90th Psalm. Cousin S. Sewall 
 set Low-Dutch tune in a very good key, which made 
 the singing with a good number of voices very agree- 
 able. Distributed cake. . . . 
 
 Sept r 5, 1720. Mary Hirst goes to board with 
 Madam Oliver and her Mother Loyd. Going to Son 
 Sewall' s I there meet with Madam Winthrop, told 
 her I was glad to meet her there, had not seen her a 
 great while ; gave her Mr. Homes's Sermon. . . . 
 
 7' 30. Mr. Colman's Lecture : Daughter Sewall 
 acquaints Madam Winthrop that if she pleas' d to be 
 within at 3. p. m. I would wait on her. She an- 
 swer' d she would be at home. 
 
306 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 8 r I. Saturday, I dine at Mr. Stoddard's : from 
 thence I went to Madam Winthrop's just at 3. Spake 
 to her, saying, my loving wife died so soon and sud- 
 denly, 'twas hardly convenient for me to think of 
 marrying again ; however I came to this resolution, 
 that I would not make my court to any person with- 
 out first consulting with her. Had a pleasant dis- 
 course about 7 [seven] single persons sitting in the 
 Fore-seat y r 29th, viz. Mad m Rebekah Dudley, Catha- 
 rine Winthrop, Bridget Usher, Deliverance Legg, 
 Rebekah Loyd, Lydia Colman, Elizabeth Bellingham. 
 She propounded one and another for me ; but none 
 would do, said Mrs. Loyd was about her age. 
 
 Octobf3. Waited on Madam Winthrop again; 
 'twas a little while before she came in. Her daughter 
 Noyes being there alone with me, I said, I hoped my 
 waiting on her mother would not be disagreeable to 
 her. She answer'd she should not be against that that 
 might be for her comfort. I saluted her, and told 
 her I perceiv'd I must shortly wish her a good time ; 
 (her mother had told me, she was with child, and 
 within a month or two of her time). By and by 
 in came Mr. Airs, Chaplain of the Castle, and hang'd 
 up his hat, which I was a little startled at, it seeming 
 as if he was to lodge there. At last Madam Win- 
 throp came too. After a considerable time, I went 
 up to her and said, if it might not be inconvenient I 
 desired to speak with her. She assented, and spake 
 of going into another room ; but Mr. Airs and Mrs. 
 Noyes presently rose up, and went out, leaving us 
 there alone. Then I usher'd in discourse from the 
 names in the Fore-seat ; at last I pray'd that Catha- 
 
DIARY OF SAMUEL SEWALL. 307 
 
 rine [Mrs. Winthrop] might be the person assign' d 
 for me. She instantly took it up in the way of 
 denial, as if she had catch' d at an opportunity to 
 do it, saying she could not do it before she was asked. 
 Said that was her mind unless she should change it, 
 which she believed she should not ; could not leave 
 her children. I express'd my sorrow that she should 
 do it so speedily, pray'd her consideration, and ask'd 
 her when I should wait on her again. She setting on 
 time, I mention' d that day sennight. Gave her Mr. 
 Willard's Fountain Open'd with the little print and 
 verses ; saying, I hop'd if we did well read that book, 
 we should meet together hereafter, if we did not now. 
 She took the book, and put it in her pocket. Took 
 leave. 
 
 8f 5. Midweek, I din'd with the Court ; from 
 thence went and visited Cousin Jonathan's wife, 
 lying in with her little Betty. Gave the Nurse 2? 
 Although I had appointed to wait upon her, M! n 
 Winthrop, next Monday, yet I went away from my 
 Cousin Sewall's thither about 3. p. m. The nurse 
 told me Madam dined abroad at her daughter 
 Noyes's, they were to go out together. I ask'd for 
 the maid, who was not within. Gave Katy a 
 penny and a kiss, and came away. Accompanied 
 my son and daughter Cooper in their remove to 
 their new house. Went to tell Joseph, and Mr. 
 Belcher saw me by the South Meetinghouse though 
 'twas duskish, and said I had been at house-warm- 
 ing, (he had been at our house). Invited me to 
 drmk a glass of wine at his house at 7. and eat part 
 01 the pasty provided for the Commissioners' voyage 
 
308 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 to Casco-Bav. His Excellency, Madam Belcher, 
 S. S. Col. Fitch, Mr. D. Oliver, Mr. Anthony 
 Stoddard, M. Welsteed, Mr. White, Mr. Belcher 
 sat down. At coming home gave us of the cake 
 and ginger-bread to carry away. 'Twas about 
 ten before we got home ; Mr. Oliver and I waited 
 on the Governour to his gate ; and then Mr. Oliver 
 would wait on me home. 
 
 8!" 6*. h Lecture-day, Mr. Cutler, President of the 
 Connecticut College, preached in Dr. C. Mather's 
 turn. He made an excellent discourse from Heb. 
 xi. 14. For they that say such things, declare 
 plainly that they seek a country. Bro r Odlin, Son 
 Sewall of Brooklin, and Mary Hirst dine with me. 
 I ask'd Mary of Madam Lord, Mr. Oliver and wife, 
 and bid her present my service to them. 8^ 6 th A 
 little after 6. p. m. I went to Madam Winthrop's. 
 She was not within. I gave Sarah Chickering the 
 maid 2 s , Juno, who brought in wood, I s Afterward 
 the nurse came in, I gave her 1 8 d , having no other 
 small bill. After awhile Dr. Noyes came in with 
 his mother ; and quickly after his wife came in : 
 They sat talking, I think, till eight o'clock. I said 
 I fear'd I might be some interruption to their busi- 
 ness : Dr. Noyes reply' d pleasantly : He fear'd they 
 might be an interruption to me, and went away. 
 Madam seem'd to harp upon the same string. Must 
 take care of her children ; could not leave that 
 house and neighbourhood where she had dwelt so 
 long. I told her she might do her children as much 
 or more good by bestowing what she laid out in 
 house-keeping, upon them, Said her son would be 
 
DIARY OF SAMUEL SEWALL. 309 
 
 of age the 7 th of August. I said it might be incon- 
 venient for her to dwell with her daughter-in-law, 
 who must be mistress of the house. I gave her a 
 piece of Mr. Belcher's cake and ginger-bread 
 wrapped up in a clean sheet of paper ; told her of 
 her father's kindness to me when Treasurer, and I 
 Constable. My daughter Judith was gone from me 
 and I was more lonesome — might help to forward 
 one another in our journey to Canaan. — Mr. Eyre 
 came within the door ; I saluted him, ask'd how 
 Mr. Clark did, and he went away. I took leave 
 about 9 o'clock. I told [her] I came now to refresh 
 her memory as to Monday-night ; said she had not 
 forgot it. In discourse with her, I ask'd leave to 
 speak with her sister ; I meant to gain Mad m Mico's 
 favour to persuade her sister. She seem'd surpris'd 
 and displeas'd, and said she was in the same con- 
 dition! . . . 
 
 In the evening I visited Madam Winthrop, who 
 treated me with a great deal of courtesy ; wine, 
 marmalade. I gave her a News-Letter about the 
 Thanksgiving ; Proposals, for sake of the Verses for 
 David Jeffries. She tells me Dr. Increase Mather 
 visited her this day, in Mr. Hutchinson's coach. . . . 
 
 8 r ii 4 ! 1 I writ a few Lines to Madam Winthrop 
 to this purpose : " Madam, These wait on you with 
 Mr. Mayhew's Sermon, and Account of the state of 
 the Indians on Martha's Vinvard. I thank you for 
 your unmerited favours of yesterday ; and hope to 
 have the happiness of waiting on you to-morrow 
 before eight o'clock after Noon. I pray God to 
 keep you, and give you a joyful entrance upon the 
 
310 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 two hundred and twenty-ninth year of Christopher 
 Columbus his Discovery ; and take leave, who am, 
 Madam, your humble Serv* S. S." 
 
 . . . 8? 12. Mrs. Anne Cotton came to door 
 ('twas before 8.) said Madam Winthrop was within, 
 directed me into the little room, where she was full 
 of work behind a stand ; Mrs. Cotton came in and 
 stood. Madam Winthrop pointed to her to set me 
 a chair. Madam Winthrop' s countenance was 
 much changed from what 'twas on Monday, look'd 
 dark and lowering. At last, the work, (black stuff 
 or silk) was taken away, I got my chair in place, 
 had some converse, but very cold and indifferent to 
 what 'twas before Ask'd her to acquit me of rude- 
 ness if I drew off her glove. Enquiring the reason, 
 I told her 'twas great odds between handling a dead 
 goat, and a living lady. Got it off. I told her I 
 had one petition to ask of her, that was, that she 
 would take off the negative she laid on me the third 
 of October ; She readily answer'd she could not, and 
 enlarg'd upon it ; She told me of it so soon as she 
 could ; could not leave her house, children, neigh- 
 bours, business. I told her she might do some good 
 to help and support me. Mentioning Mrs. Gookin, 
 Nath., the widow Weld was spoken of; said I had 
 visited Mrs. Denison. I told her Yes ! Afterward 
 I said, If after a first and second vagary she would 
 accept of me returning, her victorious kindness and 
 good will would be very obliging. She thank' d 
 me for my book, (Mr. May hew' s Sermon), but 
 said not a word of the letter. When she insisted 
 on the negative, I pray'd there might be no more 
 
DIARY OF SAMUEL SEWALL. 311 
 
 thunder and lightning, I should not sleep all 
 night. I gave her Dr. Preston, The Church's Mar- 
 riage and the Church's Carriage, which cost me 
 6 s at the sale. The door standing open, Mr. Airs 
 came in, hung up his hat, and sat down. After 
 awhile, Madam Winthrop moving, he went out. 
 Jn° Eyre look'd in, I said How do ye, or, your ser- 
 vant Mr. Eyre : but heard no word from him. 
 Sarah fill'd a glass of wine, she drank to me, I to 
 her, She sent Juno home with me with a good lan- 
 tern, I gave her 6? and bid her thank her mistress. 
 In some of our discourse, I told her I had rather go 
 the Stone-House adjoining to her, than to come to 
 her against her mind. Told her the reason why I 
 came every other night was lest I should drink too 
 deep draughts of pleasure. She had talk'd of Canary, 
 her kisses were to me better than the best Canary. 
 Explain' d the expression concerning Columbus. 
 
 . . . 8F 17. In the evening I visited Madam 
 Winthrop, who treated me courteously, but not in 
 clean linen as somtimes. She said, she did not 
 know whether I would come again, or no. I ask'd 
 her how she could so impute inconstancy to me. (I 
 had not visited her since Wednesday night being 
 unable to get over the indisposition received by the 
 treatment received that night, and / must in it 
 seem'd to sound like a made piece of formality.) 
 Gave her this day's Gazette. Heard David Jeffries 
 say the Lord's Prayer, and some other portions of 
 the Scriptures. He came to the door, and ask'd me 
 to go into chamber, where his grandmother was 
 tending little Katy, to whom she had given physic ; 
 
312 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 but I chose to sit below. Dr. Noyes and his wife 
 came in, and sat a considerable time ; had been visit- 
 ing son and daughter Cooper. Juno came home 
 with me. 
 
 8f i 8. Visited Madam Mico, who came to me 
 in a splendid dress. I said, It may be you have 
 heard of my visiting Madam Winthrop, her sister. 
 She answer'd, her sister had told her of it. 1 
 ask'd her good will in the affair. She answer'd, 
 If her sister were for it, she should not hinder it. 1 
 gave her Mr. Homes' s Sermon. She gave me a 
 glass of Canary, entertain' d me with good discourse, 
 and a respectful remembrance of my first wife. I 
 took leave. 
 
 8f 19. Midweek. Visited Madam Winthrop; 
 Sarah told me she was at Mr. Walley's, would not 
 come home till late. I gave her Hannah 3 oranges 
 with her duty, not knowing whether I should find 
 her or no. Was ready to go home : but said if I 
 knew she was there, I would go thither. Sarah 
 seem'd to speak with pretty good courage, She 
 would be there. I went and found her there, with 
 Mr. Walley and his wife in the little room below. 
 At 7 o'clock I mentioned going home ; at 8. I put 
 on my coat, and quickly waited on her home. She 
 found occasion to speak loud to the servant, as if she 
 had a mind to be known. Was courteous to me ; 
 but took occasion to speak pretty earnestly about my 
 keeping a coach : I said 'twould cost ^100. per 
 annum : she said 'twould cost but ^40. Spake much 
 against John Winthrop, his false-heartedness. Mr. 
 
DIARY OF SAMUEL SEW ALL. 313 
 
 Eyre came in and sat awhile ; I offer' d him Dr. 
 Incr. Mather's Sermons, whereof Mr. Appleton's 
 Ordination Sermon was one ; said he had them 
 already. I said I would give him another. Exit. 
 Came away somewhat late. 
 
 85 20. . . . Madam Winthrop not being at 
 Lecture, I went thither first ; found her very serene 
 with her daughter Noyes, Mrs. Dering, and the 
 widow Shipreev sitting at a little table, she in her 
 arm'd chair. She drank to me, and I to Mrs. 
 Noyes. After awhile pray'd the favour to speak 
 with her. She took one of the candles, and went 
 into the best room, clos'd the shutters, sat down 
 upon the couch. She told me Madam Usher had 
 been there, and said the coach must be set on wheels, 
 and not by rusting. She spake something of my 
 needing a wig. Ask'd me what her sister said to 
 me. I told her, She said, If her sister were for it, 
 she would not hinder it. But I told her, she did not 
 say she would be glad to have me for her brother. 
 Said, 1 shall keep you in the cold, and asked her if 
 she would be within to morrow night, for we had had 
 but a running feat. She said she could not tell 
 whether she should, or no. I took leave. As were 
 drinking at the Governour's, he said : In England 
 the ladies minded little more than that they might 
 have money, and coaches to ride in. I said, And 
 New England brooks its name. At which Mr. Dud- 
 ley smiled. Gov[" said they were not quite so bad here. 
 
 S T . 21. Friday, My son, the Minister, came to 
 me p. m. by appointment and we pray one for 
 
314 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 another in the Old Chamber ; more especially re- 
 specting my courtship. About 6. o'clock I go to 
 Madam Winthrop's ; Sarah told me her mistress was 
 gone out, but did not tell me whither she went. She 
 presently order' d me a fire ; so I went in, having Dr. 
 Sibb's Bowels with me to read. I read the two first 
 Sermons, still no body came in : at last about 9. o'clock 
 Mr. Jn° Eyre came in ; I took the opportunity to say 
 to him as I had done to Mrs. Noyes before, that I 
 hoped my visiting his mother would not be disagree- 
 able to him ; He answered me with much respect. 
 When 'twas about 9. o'clock he of himself said 
 he would go and call her, she was but at one of his 
 brothers : A while after I heard Madam Winthrop's 
 voice, enquiring somthing about John. After a good 
 while and clapping the garden door twice or thrice, 
 she came in. I mention'd something of the lateness ; 
 she banter' d me, and said I was later. She receiv'd 
 me courteously. I ask'd when our proceedings 
 should be made public : She said They were like to 
 be no more public than they were already. Offer' d 
 me no wine that I remember. I rose up at 1 1 o'clock 
 to come away, saying I would put on my coat, she 
 offer' d not to help me. I pray'd her that Juno might 
 light me home, she open'd the shutter, and said 
 'twas pretty light abroad ; Juno was weary and gone 
 to bed. So I came home by star-light as well as I 
 could. . . . 
 
 OctobT 24. I went in the Hackney Coach through 
 the Common, stop'd at Madam Winthrop's (had told 
 her I would take my departure from thence). Sarah 
 came to the door with Katy in her arms : but I did 
 
DIARY OF SAMUEL SEWALL. 315 
 
 not think to take notice of the child. Call'd her 
 mistress. I told her, being encourag'd by David 
 Jeffries' loving eyes, and sweet words, I was come 
 to enquire whether she could find in her heart to leave 
 that house and neighbourhood, and go and dwell 
 with me at the South-end ; I think she said softly, 
 Not yet. I told her it did not lie in my lands to 
 keep a coach. If I should, I should be in danger to 
 be brought to keep company with her neighbour 
 Brooker, (he was a little before sent to prison for 
 debt). Told her I had an antipathy against those 
 who would pretend to give themselves ; but nothing 
 of their estate. I would a proportion of my estate 
 with my self. And I supposed she would do so. As 
 to a Perriwig, My best and greatest Friend, I could 
 not possibly have a greater, began to find me with 
 hair before I was born, and had continued to do so 
 ever since ; and I could not find in my heart to go to 
 another. She commended the book I gave her, Dr. 
 Preston, the Church Marriage ; quoted him saying 
 'twas inconvenient keeping out of a fashion commonly 
 used. I said the time and tide did circumscribe my 
 visit. She gave me a dram of black-cherry brandy, 
 and gave me a lump of the Sugar that was in it. She 
 wish'd me a good journey. I pray'd God to keep her, 
 and came away. Had a very pleasant journey to 
 Salem. . . . 
 
 October 31. At night I visited Madam Winthrop 
 about 6. p. m. They told me she was gone to Madam 
 Mico's. I went thither and found she was gone ; so 
 return' d to her house, read the Epistles to the Gala- 
 tians, Ephesians in Mr. Eyre's Latin Bible. After the 
 
316 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 clock struck 8. I began to read the 103. Psalm. Mr. 
 Wendell came in from his warehouse. Ask'd me if I 
 were alone ? Spake very kindly to me, offer' d me to 
 call Madam Winthrop. I told him, She would be 
 angry, had been at Mrs. Mico's ; he help'd me on 
 with my coat and I came home : left the Gazette in the 
 Bible, which told Sarah of, bid her present my service 
 to Mrs. Winthrop, and tell her I had been to wait on 
 her if she had been at home. 
 
 Nov5 1 . I was so taken up that I could not go if 
 I would. 
 
 Nov. 2. Midweek, went again and found Mrs. 
 Alden there, who quickly went out. Gave her 
 about 1 pound of sugar almonds, cost 3 s per -£. 
 Carried them on Monday. She seem'd pleas' d with 
 them, ask'd what they cost. Spake of giving her a 
 hundred pounds per annum if I died before her. 
 Ask'd her what sum she would give me, if she should 
 die first ? Said I would give her time to consider of 
 it. She said she heard as if I had given all to my 
 children by deeds of gift. I told her 'twas a mis- 
 take, Point-Judith was mine &c. That in England I 
 own'd, my father's desire was that it should go to my 
 eldest son ; 'twas 20^ per annum ; she thought 'twas 
 forty. I think when I seem'd to excuse pressing this, 
 she seemed to think 'twas best to speak of it ; a long 
 winter was coming on. Gave me a glass or two of 
 Canary. 
 
 Nov!" 4 1 ! 1 Friday, Went again, about 7. o'clock ; 
 found there Mr. John Walley and his wife : sat dis- 
 coursing pleasantly. I shew'd them Isaac Moses's 
 
DIARY OF SAMUEL SEWALL 
 
 in 
 
 [an Indian] writing. Madam W. serv'd comfits 
 to us. After a-while a table was spread, and supper 
 was set. I urg'd Mr. Walley to crave a blessing ; 
 but he put it upon me. About 9. they went away. 
 I ask'd Madam what fashioned neck-lace I should 
 present her with, She said, None at all. I ask'd her 
 Whereabout we left ofF last time ; mention 'd what I 
 had offer' d to give her ; Ask'd her what she would 
 give me ; She said she could not change her condi- 
 tion : She had said so from the beginning ; could not 
 be so far from her children, the Lecture. Quoted 
 the Apostle Paul affirming that a single life was 
 better than a married. I answer' d That was for 
 the present distress. Said she had not pleasure in 
 things of that nature as formerly : I said, you are the 
 fitter to make a wife. If she held in that mind, I 
 must go home and bewail my rashness in making 
 more haste than good speed. However, considering 
 the supper, I desired her to be within next Monday 
 night, if we liv'd so long. Assented. She charg'd 
 me with saying, that she must put away Juno, if she 
 came to me : I utterly denied it, it never came in my 
 heart ; yet she insisted upon it ; saying it came in upon 
 discourse about the Indian woman that obtained her 
 freedom this Court. About 10. I said I would not 
 disturb the good orders of her house, and came away. 
 She not seeming pleas' d with my coming away. 
 Spake to her about David JefFries, had not seen 
 him. 
 
 Monday, Nov!" 7* My son pray'd in the Old 
 Chamber. Our time had been taken up by son and 
 daughter Cooper's Visit ; so that I only read the 1 30* 11 
 
31 8 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 and 143. Psalm. Twas on the account of my court- 
 ship, I went to Mad. Winthrop ; found her rocking 
 her little Katy in the cradle. I excus'd my coming 
 so late (near eight). She set me an arm'd chair 
 and cushion ; and so the cradle was between her 
 arm'd chair and mine. Gave her the remnant of 
 my almonds ; She did not eat of them as before ; but 
 laid them away ; I said I came to enquire whether 
 she had alter' d her mind since Friday, or remained of 
 the same mind still. She said, Thereabouts. I told 
 her I loved her, and was so fond as to think that she 
 loved me : she said had a great respect for me. I 
 told her, I had made her an offer, without asking any 
 advice ; she had so many to advise with, that 'twas 
 an hindrance. The fire was come to one short 
 brand besides the block, which brand was set up in 
 end ; at last it fell to pieces, and no recruit was made : 
 She gave me a glass of wine. I think I repeated 
 again that I would go home and bewail my rashness 
 in making more haste than good speed. I would 
 endeavour to contain myself, and not go on to sollicit 
 her to do that which she could not consent to. Took 
 leave of her. As came down the steps she bid me 
 have a care. Treated me courteously. Told her 
 she had enter'd the 4th year of her widowhood. I 
 had given her the News-Letter before : I did not bid 
 her draw off her glove as sometime I had done. Her 
 dress was not so clean as sometime it had been. 
 Jehovah jireh ! 
 
 Midweek, 9* g t Dine at Bro r Stoddard's : were 
 so kind as to enquire of me if they should invite M' ra 
 Winthrop ; I anwer'd No. . . . 
 
DIARY OF SAMUEL SEWALL. 319 
 
 About the middle of Dec r Madam Winthrop made 
 a treat for her children ; Mr. Sewall, Prince, Wil- 
 loughby : I knew nothing of it ; but the same day 
 abode in the Council Chamber for fear of the rain, 
 and din'd alone upon Kilby's pies and good beer. 
 
 An Interlude. 
 
 March 5, 1 720/1. . . . Mr. Prince, P.M., 
 preached a funeral sermon from Psalm 90 : 10. Gave 
 Capt. Hill a good character. Just as I sat down in 
 my seat one of my fore-teeth in my under jaw came 
 out, and I put it in my pocket. This old servant 
 and daughter of music leaving me, does thereby give 
 me warning that I must shortly resign my head. 
 The Lord help me to do it cheerfully. 
 
 Saturday, July 15, 1721. . . . Call and sit 
 awhile with Madam Ruggles. She tells me they had 
 been up all night, her daughter, Joseph Ruggles' s 
 wife, was brought to bed of a daughter. I showed 
 my willingness to renew my old acquaintance (as a 
 suitor}. She expressed her inability to be serviceable. 
 Gave me cider to drink. I came home Thursday, 
 Aug. 3 (1721), went in the coach and visited Mrs. 
 Ruggles after Lecture. She seems resolved not to 
 move out of that house. May be of some use there ; 
 none at Boston — till she be carried out ; made some 
 difficulty to accept an Election Sermon, lest it should 
 be an obligation on her. The coach staying long 
 (going to Boston for a new fare) I made some excuse 
 for my stay ; she said should be glad to wait upon 
 me till midnight, provided I should solicit her no 
 
320 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 more ; or to that effect. I said she was willing to 
 get rid of me. She answered, That was too sharp. 
 I gave her Mr. Moodey's Election Sermon, marbled, 
 with her name written in it. 
 
 Copy of a Letter to Mrs. Mary Gibbs, Widow, 
 at Newtown, Jan y 12 th , 172 1/2. 
 
 Madam : Your removal out of town and the 
 severity of the winter, are the reason of my making 
 you this epistolatory visit. In times past (as I re- 
 member) you were minded that I should marry you, 
 by giving you to your desirable bridegroom. Some 
 sense of this intended respect abides with me still ; 
 and puts me upon enquiring whether you be willing 
 that I should marry you now, by becoming your 
 husband. Aged, feeble and exhausted as I am, your 
 favorable answer to this enquiry, in a few lines, the 
 candor of it will much oblige Madam your humble 
 serv*. S.S. 
 
 Madam Gibbs. 
 
 [They were married March 29, 1722. She sur- 
 vived him.] 
 
 THE SELLING OF JOSEPH. 
 A Memorial. 
 
 " For as much liberty is in real value next unto life : None 
 ought to part with it themselves, or deprive others of it, but upon 
 most mature consideration." 
 
 The numerousness of slaves at this day in the prov- 
 ince, and the uneasiness of them under their slavery, 
 hath put many upon thinking whether the foundation 
 
THE SELLING OF JOSEPH. 32 1 
 
 of it be firmly and well laid ; so as to sustain the vast 
 weight that is built upon it. It is most certain that 
 all men, as they are the sons of Adam, are coheirs ; 
 and have equal right unto liberty, and all other out- 
 ward comforts of life. " God hath given the earth 
 [with all its commodities] unto the sons of Adam," 
 Psal. cxv. 16. " And hath made of one blood, all 
 nations of men, for to dwell on all the face of the 
 earth, and hath determined the times before appointed, 
 and the bounds of their habitation : That they should 
 seek the Lord. Forasmuch then as we are the off- 
 spring of God," etc. Acts xvii. 26, 27, 29. Now 
 although the title given by the last Adam doth 
 infinitely better men's estates, respecting God and 
 themselves ; and grants them a most beneficial and 
 inviolable lease under the broad seal of heaven, who 
 were before only tenants at will : yet through the 
 indulgence of God to our first parents after the fall, 
 the outward estate of all and every of their children 
 remains the same, as to one another. So that origi- 
 nally and naturally there is no such thing as slavery. 
 Joseph was rightfully no more a slave to his brethren, 
 than they were to him ; and they had no more author- 
 ity to sell him than they had to slay him. And if they 
 had nothing to do to sell him, the Ishmaelites bargain- 
 ing with them, and paying down twenty pieces of 
 silver, could not make a title. Neither could Potiphar 
 have any better interest in him than the Ishmaelites 
 had. Gen. xxxvii. 20, 27, 28. For he that shall 
 in this case plead alteration of property, seems to have 
 forfeited a great part of his own claim to humanity. 
 There is no proportion between twenty pieces of silver 
 and liberty. The commodity itself is the claimer. If 
 
322 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 Arabian gold be imported in any quantities, most are 
 afraid to meddle with it, though they might have it at 
 easy rates, lest if it should have been wrongfully taken 
 from the owners, it should kindle a fire to the consump- 
 tion of their whole estate. 'Tis pity there should be 
 more caution used in buying a horse, or a little lifeless 
 dust, than there is in purchasing men and women : 
 whenas they are the offspring of God, and their 
 liberty is, 
 
 Auro pretiosior omnt. 
 
 And seeing God hath said, "He that stealeth a 
 man and selleth him, or if he be found in his hand, he 
 shall surely be put to death." Exod. xxi. 16, This 
 law being of everlasting equity, wherein man-stealing 
 is ranked among the most atrocious of capital crimes, 
 what louder cry can there be made of that celebrated 
 warning, 
 
 ° Caveat emptor ! 
 
 And all things considered, it would conduce more 
 to the welfare of the province, to have white servants 
 for a term of years, than to have slaves for life. Few 
 can endure to hear of a negro's being made free ; and 
 indeed they can seldom use their freedom well ; yet 
 their continual aspiring after their forbidden liberty 
 renders them unwilling servants. And there is such 
 a disparity in their conditions, color and hair, that they 
 can never embody with us and grow up into orderly 
 families, to the peopling of the land : but still remain 
 in our body politic as a kind of extravasate blood.. As 
 many negro men as there are among us, so many empty 
 places there are in our train bands, and the places taken 
 up of men that might make husbands for our daughters. 
 And the sons and daughters of New England would 
 
THE SELLING OF JOSEPH. 323 
 
 become more like Jacob and Rachel, if this slavery 
 were thrust quite out of doors. Moreover, it is too well 
 known what temptations masters are under, to connive 
 at the fornication of their slaves ; lest they should be 
 obliged to find them wives or pay their fines. It seems 
 to be practically pleaded that they might be lawless ; 
 'tis thought much of, that the law should have satis- 
 faction for their thefts and other immoralities ; by 
 which means, holiness to the Lord is more rarely 
 engraven upon this sort of servitude. It is likewise 
 most lamentable to think how, in taking negroes out 
 of Africa and selling of them here, that which God 
 has joined together men do boldly rend asunder ; men 
 from their country, husbands from their wives, parents 
 from their children. How horrible is the uncleanness, 
 immorality, if not murder, that the ships are guilty of 
 that bring great crowds of these miserable men and 
 women ! Methinks, when we are bemoaning the 
 barbarous usage of our friends and kinsfolk in Africa, 
 it might not be unseasonable to inquire whether we 
 are not culpable in forcing the Africans to become 
 slaves among ourselves. And it may be a question 
 whether all the benefit received by negro slaves will 
 balance the account of cash laid out upon them ; and 
 for the redemption of our own enslaved friends out of 
 Africa. Besides all the persons and estates that have 
 perished there. 
 
 Obj. 1. These blackamoors are of the posterity of 
 Cham, and therefore are under the curse of slavery. 
 Gen. ix. 25, 26, 27. 
 
 Answ. Of all offices, one would not beg this, viz., 
 uncalled for, to be an executioner of the vindictive 
 wrath of God ; the extent and duration of which is 
 
324 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 to us uncertain. If this ever was a commission, how 
 do we know but that it is long since out of date ? 
 Many have found it to their cost, that a prophetical 
 denunciation of judgment against a person or people 
 would not warrant them to inflict that evil. If it 
 would, Hazael might justify himself in all he did 
 against his master, and the Israelites, from II. 
 Kings viii. 10, 12. 
 
 But it is possible that, by cursory reading, this text 
 may have been mistaken. For Canaan is the person 
 cursed three times over, without the mentioning of 
 Cham. Good expositors suppose the curse entailed 
 on him, and that this prophecy was accomplished in 
 the extirpation of the Canaartites, and in the servitude 
 of the Gibeonites. Vide pareum. Whereas the 
 blackamoors are not descended of Canaan, but of 
 Cush. Psal. lxviii. 31. " Princes shall come out of 
 Egypt (Mizraim) Ethiopia (Cush) shall soon stretch 
 out her hands unto God." Under which names, 
 all Africa may be comprehended ; and their promised 
 conversion ought to be prayed for. Jer. xiii. 23. 
 " Can the Ethiopian change his skin ? " This shows 
 that black men are the posterity of Cush, who time 
 out of mind have been distinguished by their color. 
 And for want of the true, Ovid assigns a fabulous 
 cause of it : 
 
 Sanguine turn credunt in corpora summa vocato 
 JEtbiopum populos nigrum traxisse colorem. 
 
 Metamorph. lib. a. 
 
 Obj. 2. The nigers are brought out of a pagan 
 country into places where the gospel is preached. 
 Answ. Evil must not be done, that good may 
 
THE SELLING OF JOSEPH. 325 
 
 come of it. The extraordinary and comprehensive 
 benefit accruing to the church of God, and to Joseph 
 personally, did not rectify his brethren's sale of him. 
 
 Obj. 3. The Africans have wars one with an- 
 other : our ships bring lawful captives taken in those 
 wars. 
 
 Answ. For aught is known, their wars are much 
 such as were between Jacob's sons and their brother 
 Joseph. If they be between town and town, pro- 
 vincial or national, every war is upon one side unjust. 
 An unlawful war can't make lawful captives. And 
 by receiving, we are in danger to promote and par- 
 take in their barbarous cruelties. I am sure, if some 
 gentlemen should go down to the Brewsters to take 
 the air and fish, and a stronger party from Hull should 
 surprise them and sell them for slaves to a ship out- 
 ward bound, they would think themselves unjustly 
 dealt with ; both by sellers and buyers. And yet 
 'tis to be feared we have no other kind of title to our 
 nigers. " Therefore all things whatsoever ye would 
 that men should do to you, do ye even so to them : 
 for this is the law and the prophets." Matt. vii. 12. 
 
 Obj. 4.. Abraham had servants bought with his 
 money, and born in his house. 
 
 Answ. Until the circumstances of Abraham's pur- 
 chase be recorded, no argument can be drawn from 
 it. In the meantime charity obliges us to conclude 
 that he knew it was lawful and good. 
 
 It is observable that the Israelites were strictly for- 
 bidden the buying or selling one another for slaves. 
 Levit. xxv. 39, 46. Jer. xxxiv. 8-22. And God 
 gaged his blessing in lieu of any loss they might con- 
 ceive they suffered thereby. Deut. xv. i8« And 
 
326 SAMUEL SEWALL. 
 
 since the partition wall is broken down, inordinate 
 self-love should likewise be demolished. God ex- 
 pects that Christians should be of a more ingenuous 
 and benign frame of spirit. Christians should carry 
 it to all the world, as the Israelites were to carry it 
 one towards another. And for men obstinately to 
 persist in holding their neighbours and brethren under 
 the rigor of perpetual bondage, seems to be no proper 
 way of gaining assurance that God has given them 
 spiritual freedom. Our blessed Saviour has altered 
 the measures of the ancient love-song, and set it to a 
 most excellent new tune, which all ought to be am- 
 bitious of learning. Matt. v. 43, 44. John xii. 
 34. These Ethiopians, as black as they are, seeing 
 they are the sons and daughters of the first Adam, the 
 brethren and sisters of the last Adam, and the off- 
 spring of God, they ought to be treated with a re- 
 spect agreeable. 
 

 SARAH KEMBLE KNIGHT. 
 
 Sarah Kemble Knight, a Boston school-teacher 
 and graphic diarist, was born in Boston in 1666, the 
 daughter of Captain Thomas Kemble, a merchant. 
 She married Richard Knight, was left a widow about 
 1 703, and in 1 706 opened a school, where she had the 
 honor of training Benjamin Franklin, and the responsi- 
 bility of nursing the literary aspirations of Samuel 
 Mather. She was popularly known as Madame 
 Knight, and had some reputation for excellence in the 
 art of teaching composition. After seven years she 
 moved to Norwalk, Connecticut, where she was 
 fined for selling liquors to the Indians, but protested 
 her innocence, accusing her own maid. From what 
 she has to say about strong waters in her Journal, one 
 must hope that she was the victim of a misunder- 
 standing. She died near Norwalk on Christmas 
 Day, 1727. She is now remembered for her account 
 of a journey from Boston to New York in the year 
 1 704, a series of sprightly descriptions of early settle- 
 ments, of inn life, and of the customs and hardships 
 of colonial travel. It was first edited in 1825, by 
 Theodore Dwight and was reprinted in 1865 with 
 additional biographical information. 
 
 327 
 
328 SARAH KEMBLE KNIGHT. 
 
 ON HORSEBACK FROM BOSTON TO NEW 
 YORK IN 1704. 
 
 [From the Journals of Madam Knight, etc., 
 From The Original Manuscripts. 1825.] 
 
 Monday, October the second, 1704. — About 
 three o'clock afternoon, I began my journey from 
 Boston to New Haven, being about two hundred 
 mile. My kinsman, Captain Robert Luist, waited 
 on me as far as Dedham, where I was to meet the 
 western post. 
 
 I visited the Rev. Mr. Belcher, the minister of the 
 town, and tarried there till evening, in hopes the post 
 would come along. But he not coming, I resolved 
 to go to Billings's where he used to lodge, being 
 twelve miles further. But being ignorant of the way, 
 Madam Belcher, seeing no persuasions of her good 
 spouse's or hers could prevail with me to lodge there 
 that night, very kindly went with me to the tavern, 
 where I hoped to get my guide, and desired the 
 hostess to inquire of her guests whether any of them 
 would go with me. But they being tied by the lips 
 to a pewter engine, scarcely allowed themselves time 
 to say what clownish. . . . [Here half a page of 
 the MS. is gone.] Pieces of eight, I told her no, 
 I would not be accessory to such extortion. 
 
 " Then John shan't go," says she. "No, in- 
 deed, shan't he ; " and held forth at that rate a long 
 time, that I began to fear I was got among the quak- 
 ing tribe, believing not a limber-tongued sister among 
 them could outdo Madam Hostess. 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 329 
 
 Upon this, to my no small surprise, son John 
 arose, and gravely demanded what I would give him 
 to go with me ? ?' Give you ? " says I, " are you 
 John?" "Yes," says he, "for want of a better ;" 
 and behold ! this John looked as old as my host, and 
 perhaps had been a man in the last century. " Well, 
 Mr. John," says I, "make your demands." 
 "Why, half a piece of eight and a dram," says 
 John. I agreed, and gave him a dram (now) in 
 hand to bind the bargain. 
 
 My hostess catechised John for going so cheap, 
 saying his poor wife would break her heart. . . . 
 [Here half a page of the MS. is gone.] 
 
 His shade on his horse resembled a globe on a gate 
 post. His habit, horse and furniture, its looks and 
 goings incomparably answered the rest. 
 
 Thus jogging on with an easy pace, my guide tell- 
 ing me it was dangerous to ride hard in the night 
 (which his horse had the sense to avoid), he enter- 
 tained me with the adventures he had passed by late 
 riding, and imminent dangers he had escaped, so that, 
 remembering the heroes in " Parismus " and the 
 "Knight of the Oracle," I did'nt know but I had 
 met with a prince disguised. 
 
 When we had rid about an hour, we came into a 
 thick swamp, which by reason of a great fog, very 
 much startled me, it being now very dark. But noth- 
 ing dismayed John : he had encountered a thousand 
 and a thousand such swamps, having a universal knowl- 
 edge in the woods ; and readily answered all my in- 
 quiries which were not a kw. 
 
 In about an hour, or something more, after we left 
 the swamp, we came to Billings's, where I was to 
 
330 SARAH KEMBLE KNIGHT. 
 
 lodge. My guide dismounted and very complacently 
 helped me down and showed the door, signing to me 
 with his hand to go in ; which I gladly did — but 
 had not gone many steps into the room, ere I was 
 interrogated by a young lady I understood afterwards 
 was the eldest daughter of the family, with these, or 
 words to this purpose ; viz., " Law for me ! — what 
 in the world brings you here at this time of night ? I 
 never see a woman on the road so dreadful late in all 
 the days of my versal life. Who are you ? Where 
 are you going? I'm scared out of my wits !" — 
 with much more of the same kind. I stood aghast, 
 preparing to reply, when in comes my guide — to him 
 madam turned, roaring out : ™ Lawful heart, John, 
 is it you ? — how de do ! Where in the world are 
 you going with this woman ? Who is she ? " John 
 made no answer, but sat down in the corner, fumbled 
 out his black junk, and saluted that instead of Deb ; 
 she then turned again to me and fell anew into her 
 silly questions, without asking me to sit down. 
 
 I told her she treated me very rudely, and I did 
 not think it my duty to answer her unmannerly ques- 
 tions. But to get rid of them, I told her I came 
 there to have the post's company with me to-morrow 
 on my journey, etc. Miss stared awhile, drew a 
 chair, bade me sit, and then ran up stairs and put on 
 two or three rings (or else I had not seen them be- 
 fore), and returning, set herself just before me, show- 
 ing the way to Reding, that I might see her ornaments, 
 perhaps to gain the more respect. But her granam's 
 new rung sow, had it appeared, would have affected 
 me as much. I paid honest John with money and dram 
 according to contract, and dismissed him, and prayed 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 33! 
 
 Miss to show me where I must lodge. She conducted 
 me to a parlor in a little back lean-to, which was 
 almost filled with the bedstead, which was so high 
 'that I was forced to climb on a chair to get up to the 
 wretched bed that lay on it ; on which having stretched 
 my tired limbs, and laid my head on a sad-colored 
 pillow, I began to think on the transactions of* the 
 past day. 
 
 Tuesday, October the third, about 8 in the morning, 
 I with the post proceeded forward without observing 
 any thing remarkable ; and about two, afternoon, ar- 
 rived at the post's second stage, where the western 
 post met him and exchanged letters. Here, having 
 called for something to eat, the woman brought in a 
 twisted thing like a cable, but something whiter ; and, 
 laying it on the board, tugged for life to bring it into 
 a capacity to spread ; which having with great pains 
 accomplished, she served in a dish of pork and cab- 
 bage, I suppose the remains of dinner. The sauce 
 was of a deep purple, which I thought was boiled in 
 her dye kettle ; the bread was Indian, and everything 
 on the table service agreeable to these. I, being hun- 
 gry got a little down ; but my stomach was soon 
 cloyed, and what cabbage I swallowed served me for 
 a cud the whole day after. 
 
 Having here discharged the ordinary for self and 
 guide (as I understood was the custom), about three 
 afternoon went on with my third guide, who rode 
 very hard ; and having crossed Providence ferry, we 
 came to a river which they generally ride through. 
 But I dare not venture ; so the post got a lad and 
 canoe to carry me to t'other side, and he rode through 
 and led my horse. The canoe was very small and 
 
332 SARAH KEMBLE KNIGHT. 
 
 shallow, so that when we were in she seemed ready 
 to take in water, which greatly terrified me, and 
 caused me to be very circumspect, sitting with my 
 hands fast on each side, my eyes steady, not daring 
 so much as to lodge my tongue a hair's breadth more 
 on one side of my mouth than t'other, nor so much 
 as think on Lot's wife, for a wry thought would have 
 overset our wherry ; but was soon put out of this 
 pain, by feeling the canoe on shore, which I as soon 
 almost saluted with my feet ; and rewarding my scul- 
 ler, again mounted and made the best of our way for- 
 wards. . . . 
 
 Now was the glorious luminary, with his swift 
 coursers, arrived at his stage, leaving poor me with 
 the rest of this part of the lower world in darkness, 
 with which we were soon surrounded. The only 
 glimmering we now had was from the spangled skies, 
 whose imperfect reflections rendered every object for- 
 midable. Each lifeless trunk, with its shattered limbs, 
 appeared an armed enemy ; and every little stump 
 like a ravenous devourer. Nor could I so much as 
 discern my guide, when at any distance, which added 
 to the terror. 
 
 Thus, absolutely lost in thought and dying with 
 the very thoughts of drowning, I came up with the 
 post, whom I did not see till even with his horse : 
 he told me he stopped for me, and we rode on very 
 deliberately a few paces, when we entered a thicket 
 of trees and shrubs, and I perceived by the horse's 
 going we were on the descent of a hill, which, as we 
 came nearer the bottom, was totally dark with the 
 trees that surrounded it. But I knew by the going 
 of the horse we had entered the water, which my 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 333 
 
 guide told me was the hazardous river he had told me 
 of; and he, riding up close to my side, bid me not 
 fear — we should be over immediately. I now ral- 
 lied all the courage I was mistress of, knowing that I 
 must either venture my fate of drowning, or be left like 
 the children in the wood. So, as the post bid me, I 
 gave reins to my nag ; and sitting as steady as just before 
 in the canoe, in a few minutes got safe to the other 
 side, which he told me was the Narragansett country. 
 Being come to Mr. Haven's, I was very civilly 
 received, and courteously entertained, in a clean, com- 
 fortable house ; and the good woman was very active 
 in helping off my riding clothes, and then asked what 
 I would eat. I told her I had some chocolate, if she 
 would prepare it ; which with the help of some milk, 
 and a little clean brass kettle, she soon effected to my 
 satisfaction. I then betook me to my apartment, 
 which was a little room parted from the kitchen by a 
 single board partition ; where, after I had noted the 
 occurrences of the past day, I went to bed, which, 
 though pretty hard, yet neat and handsome. But I 
 could get no sleep, because of the clamor of some of 
 the town topers in next room, who were entered into 
 a strong debate concerning the signification of the name 
 of their country ; viz. Narragansett. One said it was 
 named so by the Indians, because there grew a brier 
 there, of a prodigious height and bigness, the like hardly 
 ever known, called by the Indians Narragansett ; and 
 quotes an Indian of so barbarous a name for his author, 
 that I could not write it. His antagonist replied no 
 — it was from a spring it had its name, which he well 
 knew where it was, which was extreme cold in sum- 
 mer, and as hot as could be imagined in the winter, 
 
334 SARAH KEMBLE KNIGHT. 
 
 which was much resorted to by the natives, and by 
 them called Narragansett (hot and cold), and that 
 was the original of their place's name — with a thou- 
 sand impertinences not worth notice, which he uttered 
 with such a roaring voice and thundering blows with 
 the fist of wickedness on the table, that it pierced my 
 very head. I heartily fretted, and wished them tongue 
 tied ; but with as little success as a friend of mine 
 once, who was (as she said) kept a whole night awake, 
 on a journey, by a country lieutenant and a sergeant, 
 ensign and a deacon, contriving how to bring a triangle 
 into a square. They kept calling for t'other gill, 
 which, while they were swallowing, was some inter- 
 mission ; but, presently, like oil to fire, increased the 
 flame. I set my candle on a chest by the bedside, 
 and sitting up, fell to my old way of composing my 
 resentments, in the following manner : 
 
 I ask thy aid, O potent Rum ! 
 
 To charm these wrangling topers dumb. 
 
 Thou hast their giddy brains possest — 
 
 The man confounded with the beast — 
 
 And I, poor I, can get no rest. 
 
 Intoxicate them with thy fumes : 
 
 O still their tongues till morning comes ! 
 
 And I know not but my wishes took effect ; for the dis- 
 pute soon ended with t'other dram ; and so good night! 
 Wednesday, October 4th. About four in the 
 morning we set out for Kingston (for so was the 
 town called) with a French doctor in our company 
 He and the post put on very furiously, so that I cou'd 
 not keep up with them, only as now and then they 
 would stop till they saw me. This road was poorly 
 furnished with accommodations for travellers, so that 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 335 
 
 we were forced to ride twenty-two miles by the 
 post's account, but nearer thirty by mine, before we 
 could bait so much as our horses, which 1 exceed- 
 ingly complained of. But the post encouraged me, 
 by saying we should be well accommodated anon at 
 Mr. Devil's, a few miles farther. But I questioned 
 whether we ought to go to the devil to be helped 
 out of affliction. However, like the rest of deluded 
 souls that post to the infernal den, we made all pos- 
 sible speed to this devil's habitation ; where alighting, 
 in full assurance of good accommodation, we were 
 going in. But meeting his two daughters, as I sup- 
 posed twins, — they so nearly resembled each other, 
 both in features and habit, and looked as old as the 
 devil himself, and quite as ugly, — we desired enter- 
 tainment, but could hardly get a word out of them, 
 till with our importunity, telling them our necessity, 
 etc., they called the old sophister, who was as sparing 
 of his words as his daughters had been, and no, or 
 none, were the replies he made us to our demands. 
 He differed only in this from the old fellow in t'other 
 country : he let us depart. However, I thought it 
 proper to warn poor travellers to endeavor to avoid 
 railing into circumstances like ours, which at our 
 aext stage I sat down and did as followeth : 
 
 May all that dread the cruel fiend of night 
 Keep on, and not at this cursed mansion light. 
 'Tis hell ; 'tis hell ! and devils here do dwell : 
 Here dwells the Devil — surely this is hell. 
 Nothing but wants : a drop to cool your tongue 
 Can't be procured these cruel fiends among. 
 Plenty of horrid grins and looks severe, 
 Hunger and thirst, but pity's banished here — 
 The right hand keep, if hell on earth you fear ! 
 
336 SARAH KEMBLE KNIGHT. 
 
 . . . Saturday, October 7th, we set out early in the 
 morning, and being something unacquainted with the 
 way, having asked it of some we met, they told us 
 we must ride a mile or two and turn down a lane on 
 the right hand ; and by their direction we rode on, 
 but not yet coming to the turning, we met a young 
 fellow and asked him how far it was to the lane 
 which turned down towards Guilford. He said we 
 must ride a little further, and turn down by the 
 corner of Uncle Sam's lot. My guide vented his 
 spleen at the lubber ; and we soon after came into 
 the road, and keeping still on, without anything 
 further remarkable, about two o'clock afternoon we 
 arrived at New Haven, where I was received with 
 all possible respects and civility. Here I discharged 
 Mr. Wheeler with a reward to his satisfaction, and 
 took some time to rest after so long and toilsome a 
 journey ; and informed myself of the manners and 
 customs of the place, and at the same time employed 
 myself in the affair I went there upon. 
 
 They are governed by the same laws as we in 
 Boston (or little differing), throughout this whole 
 colony of Connecticut, and much the same way of 
 Church government, and many of them good, sociable 
 people, and I hope religious too ; but a little too much 
 independent in their principles, and, as I have been 
 told, were formerly in their zeal very rigid in their 
 administrations towards such as their laws made 
 offenders, even to a harmless kiss or innocent merri- 
 ment among young people. Whipping being a fie- 
 quent and counted an easy punishment, about which 
 as other crimes, the judges were absolute in their 
 sentences. They told me a pleasant story about a 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 337 
 
 pair of justices in those parts, which I may not omit 
 the relation of. 
 
 A negro slave belonging to a man in the town, 
 stole a hog's head from his master, and gave or sold 
 it to an Indian, native of the place. The Indian 
 sold it in the neighborhood, and so the theft was 
 found out. Thereupon the heathen was seized, and 
 carried to the Justice's house to be examined. But 
 his worship (it seems) was gone into the field, with 
 a brother in office to gather in his pompions ; whither 
 the malefactor is hurried, and complaint made, and 
 satisfaction in the name of justice demanded. Their 
 worships can't proceed in form without a bench : 
 whereupon they order one to be immediately erected, 
 which, for want of fitter materials, they made with 
 pompions — which being finished, down sit their 
 worships, and the malefactor called, and by the senior 
 justice interrogated after the following manner ; " You 
 Indian, why did you steal from this man ? You 
 shouldn't do so — it's a grandy wicked thing to 
 steal. " " Hol't, Hoi' t, ' ' cries justice junior, " Brother, 
 you speak negro to him ; I'll ask him. You, sirrah, 
 why did you steal this man's hog's head ? " " Hog's 
 head?" replies the Indian, "me no stomany." 
 " No ? " says his worship ; and, pulling off his hat, 
 patted his own head with his hand, says, " Tatapa — 
 you, Tatapa — you ; all one this. Hog's head all one 
 this." "Hah !" says Netop, "now me stomany 
 that." Whereupon the company fell into a great fit 
 of laughter, even to roaring. Silence is commanded, 
 but to no effect : for they continued perfectly shouting. 
 "Nay," says his worship, in an angry tone, " if it 
 be so, take me off the bench, ' ' 
 
338 SARAH KEMBLE KNIGHT. 
 
 Their diversions in this part of the country are on 
 lecture days and training days mostly : on the former 
 there is riding from town to town. 
 
 And on training days the youth divert themselves 
 by shooting at the target, as they call it (but it very 
 much resembles a pillory), where he that hits nearest 
 the white has some yards of red ribbon presented 
 him, which being tied to his hat-band, the two ends 
 streaming down his back, he is led away in triumph, 
 with great applause, as the winners of the Olympic 
 games. They generally marry very young : the 
 males oftener, as I am told, under twenty than 
 above : they generally make public weddings, and 
 have a way something singular (as they say) in some 
 of them, viz., just before joining hands the bride- 
 groom quits the place, who is soon followed by the 
 bridesmen, and as it were dragged back to duty — 
 being the reverse to the former practice among us, to 
 steal mistress bride. 
 
 There are great plenty of oysters all along by the 
 sea side, as far as I rode in the colony, and those 
 very good. And they generally lived very well and 
 comfortably in their families. But too indulgent 
 (especially the farmers) to their slaves : suffering too 
 great familiarity from them, permitting them to sit at 
 the table and eat with them (as they say to save 
 time), and into the dish goes the black hoof as freely 
 as the white hand. They told me that there was 
 a farmer lived near the town where I lodged who 
 had some difference with his slave, concerning some- 
 thing the master had promised him and did not 
 punctually perform ; which caused some hard words 
 between them ; but at length they put the matter to 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 339 
 
 arbitration and bound themselves to stand to the 
 award of such as they named — which done, the 
 arbitrators, having heard the allegations of both 
 parties, ordered the master to pay forty shillings to 
 black face, and acknowledge his fault. And so the 
 matter ended : the poor master very honestly stand- 
 ing to the award. 
 
 There are everywhere, in the towns as I passed, a 
 number of Indians the natives of the country, and 
 are the most savage of all the savages of that kind 
 that I had ever seen : little or no care taken (as I 
 heard upon enquiry) to make them otherwise. 
 They have in some places lands of their own, and 
 governed by laws of their own making ; — they 
 marry many wives and at pleasure put them away, 
 and on the least dislike or fickle humor, on either 
 side, saying " Stand away," to one another is a suffi- 
 cient divorce. And indeed those uncomely " Stand 
 aways " are too much in vogue among the English 
 in this (indulgent) colony, as their records plentifully 
 prove, and that on very trivial matters, of which 
 some have been told me, but are not proper to be 
 related by a female pen, though some of that foolish 
 sex have had too large a share in the story. 
 
 They give the title of merchant to every trader ; 
 who rate their goods according to the time and specie 
 they pay in, viz., " Pay," " Money," " Pay as 
 money," and "Trusting." "Pay" is grain, 
 pork, beef, etc., at the prices set by the General 
 Court that year ; M Money " is pieces of eight, reals, 
 or Boston or bay shillings (as they call them), or 
 "good hard money," as sometimes silver coin is 
 termed by them; also "Wampum," viz., Indian 
 
340 SARAH KEMBLE KNIGHT. 
 
 beads, which serves for change. " Pay as money " 
 is provisions, as aforesaid, one-third cheaper than as 
 the Assembly or General Court sets it ; and " Trust " 
 as they and the merchant agree for time. 
 
 Now, when the buyer comes to ask for a commod- 
 ity, sometimes before the merchant answers that he 
 has it, he says, "Is your pay ready?" Perhaps 
 the chap replies, " Yes." " What do you pay in ? " 
 says the merchant. The buyer having answered, then 
 the price is set ; as suppose he wants a sixpenny knife, 
 in pay it is twelve pence — in pay as money, eight 
 pence, and hard money, its own price, viz., six 
 pence. It seems a very intricate way of trade and 
 what lex mertatoria had not thought of. 
 
 Being at a merchant's house, in comes a tall coun- 
 try fellow, with his alfogeos full of tobacco ; for they 
 seldom loose their cud, but keep chewing and spitting 
 as long as their eyes are open, — he advanced to the 
 middle of the room, makes an awkward nod, and spit- 
 ting a large deal of aromatic tincture, he gave a scrape 
 with his shovel-like shoe, leaving a small shovel full of 
 dirt on the floor, made a full stop, hugging his own 
 pretty body with his hands under his arms, stood 
 staring round him, like a cat let out of a basket. At 
 last, like the creature Balaam rode on, he opened his 
 mouth and said : "Have you any ribinen for hat- 
 bands to sell, I pray ? " The questions and answers 
 about the pay being past, the ribbon is brought and 
 opened. Bumpkin Simpers cries, *\ It's confounded 
 gay, I vow ; " and beckoning to the door, in comes 
 Joan Tawdry, dropping about fifty curtsies, and stands 
 by him : he shows her the ribbon. "Law, you," 
 says she, "it's right gent, do you take it, 'tis dread- 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 34 1 
 
 ful pretty." Then she enquires, " Have you any 
 hood silk, I pray ? " which being brought and bought, 
 " Have you any thread silk to sew it with ? " says 
 she ; which being accommodated with they departed. 
 They generally stand after they come in a great while 
 speechless, and sometimes don't say a word till they 
 are asked wliat they want, which I impute to the awe 
 they stand in of the merchants, who they are con- 
 stantly almost indebted to ; and must take what they 
 bring without liberty to choose for themselves ; but 
 they serve them as well, making the merchants stay 
 long enough for their pay. 
 
 We may observe here the great necessity and bene- 
 fit both of education and conversation ; for these people 
 have as large a portion of mother wit, and sometimes 
 a larger, than those who have been brought up in 
 cities ; but for want of improvements, render them- 
 selves almost ridiculous, as above. I should be glad 
 if they would leave such follies, and am sure all that 
 love clean houses (at least) would be glad on't too. 
 
 They are generally very plain in their dress, through- 
 out all the colony, as I saw, and follow one another 
 in their modes ; that you may know where they 
 belong, especially the women, meet them where you 
 will. 
 
 Their chief red letter day is St. Election, which is 
 annually observed according to charter, to choose their 
 governor — a blessing they can never be thankful enough 
 for, as they will find, if ever it be their hard fortune 
 to lose it. The present governor in Connecticut is 
 the Hon. John Winthrop, Esq., a gentleman of an 
 ancient and honorable family, whose father was 
 governor here sometime before, and his grandfather 
 
342 SARAH KEMBLE KNIGHT. 
 
 had been governor of the Massachusetts. This 
 gentleman is a very courteous and affable person, 
 much given to hospitality, and has by his good ser- 
 vices gained the affections of the people as much as 
 any who had been before him in that post. . . . 
 
 The City of New York is a pleasant, well com- 
 pacted place, situated on a commodious river which 
 is a fine harbor for shipping. The buildings, brick 
 generally, very stately and high, though not altogether 
 like ours in Boston. ... 
 
 They are generally of the Church of England and 
 have a New England gentleman for their minister, and 
 a very fine church set out with all customary requisites. 
 There are also Dutch and divers conventicles, as they 
 call them, viz., Baptist, Quakers, etc. They are not 
 strict in keeping the Sabbath, as in Boston and other 
 places where I had been, but seem to deal with great 
 exactness, as far as I see or deal with. They are 
 sociable to one another and courteous and civil to 
 strangers, and fare well in their houses. The English 
 go very fashionable in their dress. But the Dutch, 
 especially the middling sort, differ from our women, in 
 their habit go loose, wear French muches, which are 
 like a. cap and a head band in one, leaving their ears 
 bare, which are set out with jewels of a large size and 
 many in number ; and their fingers hooped with rings, 
 some with large stones in them of many colors, as were 
 their pendants in their ears, which you should see very 
 old women wear as well as young. 
 
 They have vendues very frequently and make 
 their earnings very well by them, for they treat 
 with good liquor liberally, and the customers drink 
 as liberally and generally pay for't as well, by 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 343 
 
 paying for that which they bid up briskly foi 
 after the sack has gone plentifully about, though 
 sometimes good pennyworths are got there. Their 
 diversion in the winter is riding sleighs about three or 
 four miles out of town, where they have houses of 
 entertainment at a place called the Bowery, and some 
 go to friends' houses, who handsomely treat them. 
 Mr. Burroughs carried his spouse and daughter and 
 myself out to one Madame Dowes, a gentlewoman 
 that lived at a farmhouse, who gave us a handsome 
 entertainment of five or six dishes and choice beer and 
 metheglin, cider, etc., all which she said was the 
 produce of her farm. I believe we met fifty or sixty 
 sleighs that day ; they fly with great swiftness, and 
 some are so furious that they will turn out of the 
 path for none except a loaded cart. Nor do they 
 spare for any diversion the place affords, and sociable 
 to a degree, their tables being as free to their neighbors 
 as to themselves. 
 
 Having here transacted the affair I went upon and 
 somS other that fell in the way, after about a fort- 
 night's stay there, I left New York with no little 
 regret, and Thursday, December 2 1 st, set out for 
 New Haven with my kinsman Trowbridge, and the 
 man that waited on me. . . . 
 
 January 6th. Being now well recruited and fit for 
 business, I discoursed the persons I was concerned with, 
 that we might finish in order to my return to Boston. 
 They delayed as they had hitherto done, hoping to 
 tire my patience. But I was resolute to stay and see 
 an end of the matter, let it be never so much to my 
 disadvantage ; so, January 9th, they came again and 
 promised the Wednesday following to go through with 
 
344 SARAH KEMBLE KNIGHT. 
 
 the distribution of the estate, which they delayed till 
 Thursday, and then came with new amusements. But 
 at length, by the mediation of that holy good gentle- 
 man, the Rev. Mr. James Pierpont, the minister of 
 New Haven, and with the advice and assistance of 
 other our good friends, we came to an accommodation 
 and distribution, which having finished, though not 
 till February, the man that waited on me to York tak- 
 ing charge of me, I set out for Boston. We went 
 from New Haven upon the ice (the ferry being not 
 passable thereby), and the Rev. Mr. Pierpont, with 
 Madam Prout, cousin Trowbridge, and divers others, 
 were taking leave, we went onward without anything 
 remarkable till we come to New London, and lodged 
 again at Mr. Saltonstall's ; and here I dismissed my 
 guide, and my generous entertainer provided me Mr. 
 Samuel Rogers of that place to go home with me. I 
 stayed a day here longer than I intended by the com- 
 mands of the Hon. Governor Winthrop to stay and 
 take a supper with him, whose wonderful civility I 
 may not omit. The next morning I crossed the ferry 
 to Groton, having had the honor of the company of 
 Madam Livingston (who is the governor's daughter) 
 and Mary Christophers and divers others to the boat ; 
 and that night lodged at Stonington, and had roast 
 beef and pumpkin sauce for supper. The next night 
 at Havens, and had roast fowl, and the next day we 
 came to a river, which, by reason of the freshets com- 
 ing down, was swelled so high, we feared it impas- 
 sable, and the rapid stream was very terrifying ; however, 
 we must over, and that in a small canoe. Mr. Rogers 
 assuring me of his good conduct, I, after a stay of near 
 an hour on the shore for consultation, went into the 
 
ON HORSEBACK. 345 
 
 canoe, and Mr. Rogers paddled about one hundred 
 yards up the creek by the shore side, turned into the 
 swift stream and dexterously steering her, in a moment 
 we came to the other side, as swiftly passing as an 
 arrow shot out of the bow by a strong arm. I stayed 
 on the shore till he returned to fetch our horses, which 
 he caused to swim over, himself bringing the furniture 
 in the canoe. But it is past my skill to express the 
 exceeding fright all these transactions formed in me. 
 We were now in the colony of the Massachusetts, and, 
 taking lodgings at the first inn we came to, had a pretty 
 difficult passage the next day, which was the second 
 of March, by reason of the sloughy ways then thawed 
 by the sun. Here I met Capt. John Richards of Bos- 
 ton, who was going home, so being very glad of his 
 company we rode something harder than hitherto, and, 
 missing my way in going up a very steep hill, my horse 
 dropped down under me as dead ; this new surprise 
 no little hurt me, meeting it just at the entrance into 
 Dedham, from whence we intended to reach home that 
 night. But was now obliged to get another horse there, 
 and leave my own, resolving for Boston that night if 
 possible. But in going over the causeway at Ded- 
 ham, the bridge being overflowed by the high waters 
 coming down, I very narrowly escaped falling over 
 into the river, horse and all, which 'twas almost a 
 miracle I did not. Now it grew late in the afternoon, 
 and the people having very much discouraged us about 
 the sloughy way, which they said we should find very 
 difficult and hazardous, it so wrought on me, being 
 tired and dispirited and disappointed of my desires of 
 going home, that I agreed to lodge there that night, 
 which we did at the house of one Draper, and the 
 
346 SARAH KEMBLE KNIGHT. 
 
 next day being March 3d we got safe home to Bos- 
 ton, where I found my aged and tender mother and 
 my dear and only child in good health, with open 
 arms, ready to receive me, and my kind relations and 
 friends flocking in to welcome me and hear the story 
 of my transactions and travels, I having this day been 
 five months from home ; and now I cannot fully ex- 
 press my joy and satisfaction, but desire sincerely to 
 adore my Great Benefactor for thus graciously carrying 
 forth and returning in safety his unworthy handmaid. 
 
ROBERT BEVERLY. 
 
 Robert Beverly, the most interesting and one of 
 the important of the colonial historians of Virginia, 
 was born in that colony about 1675, and died there in 
 1 7 1 6. At twenty-two he succeeded his father, Major 
 Robert Beverly, as Clerk of the Council of Virginia, 
 under Governor Andros. This office gave him access 
 to documentary records, and in 1 705, for reasons given 
 in our selections, he published in London a History 
 and Present State of Virginia, in four books. This 
 was not merely an account of present conditions, so- 
 cial or economic, though it gives us many intimate 
 details of the daily life in Virginia during the first cen- 
 tury of its settlement ; it gave also an account of the 
 settlement of the colony and of its history. The 
 work attracted so much attention that two years after 
 its first appearance a French translation of it with 
 fourteen illustrations by Grivelius appeared in Amster- 
 dam, and these illustrations were used in a second 
 English edition in 1722. Beverly enjoys the distinc- 
 tion of being the first American in whose behalf the 
 habeas corpus act was invoked, but he deserves the 
 higher distinction of being remembered as a far-sighted, 
 patriotic citizen, and a sensible, sprightly writer. 
 
 347 
 
348 ROBERT BEVERLY. 
 
 HOW HE CAME TO WRITE. 
 
 [From the Preface to the " History and Pres- 
 ent State of Virginia." Edition of 1722.] 
 
 My first business in the world being among the 
 public records of my country, the active thoughts of 
 my youth put me upon taking notes of the general 
 administration of the government ; but with no other 
 design than the gratification of my own inquisitive 
 mind ; these lay by me for many years afterwards, 
 obscure and secret, and would forever have done so, 
 had not the following accident produced them. 
 
 In the year 1703, my affairs calling me to Eng- 
 land, I was soon after my arrival, complimented by 
 my bookseller with an intimation, that there was pre- 
 pared for printing a general account of all her Majesty's 
 Plantations in America, and his desire that I would 
 overlook it before it was put to the press ; I agreed 
 to overlook that part of it which related to Virginia. 
 
 Soon after this he brings me about six sheets of 
 paper written, which contained the account of Vir- 
 ginia and Carolina. This it seems was to have an- 
 swered a part of Mr. Oldmixon's British Empire in 
 America. I very innocently (when I began to read) 
 placed pen and paper by me, and made my observations 
 upon the first page, but found it in the sequel so very 
 faulty, and an abridgement only of some accounts that 
 had been printed 60 or 70 years ago ; in which also 
 he had chosen the most strange and untrue parts, and 
 left out the more sincere and faithful, so that I laid 
 aside all thoughts of farther observations, and gave it 
 
GOVERNOR NICHOLSON'S CAREER. 349 
 
 only a reading ; and my bookseller for answer, that 
 the account was too faulty and too imperfect to be 
 mended. Withal telling him, that seeing I had in 
 my junior days taken some notes of the government, 
 which I then had with me in England, I would make 
 him an account of my own country, if I could find 
 time, while I staid in London. And this I should the 
 rather undertake in justice to so fine a country ; be- 
 cause it has been so misrepresented to the common 
 people of England, as to make them believe that the 
 servants in Virginia are made to draw in cart and plow, 
 as horses and oxen do in England, and that the coun- 
 try turns all people black, who go to live there, with 
 other such prodigious phantasms. 
 
 Accordingly before I left London, I gave him a 
 short history of the country, from the first settlement, 
 with an account of its then state ; but I would not let 
 him mingle it with Oldmixon's other account of the 
 plantations, because I took them to be all of a piece 
 with those I had seen of Virginia and Carolina, but 
 desired mine to be printed by itself. And this I take 
 to be the only reason of that gentleman's so severely 
 reflecting upon me in his book, for I never saw him in 
 my life that I know of. 
 
 GOVERNOR NICHOLSON'S CAREER. 
 
 [From the Same, Book I.] 
 
 In November, 1698, Francis Nicholson, Esq., was 
 removed from Maryland, to be Governor of Virginia. 
 But he went not then with that smoothness on his 
 
350 ROBERT BEVERLY. 
 
 brow he had carried with him, when he was appointed 
 Lieutenant-Governor. He talked then no more of 
 improving of manufactures, towns, and trade. Neither 
 was he pleased to make the acts of assembly the rule 
 of his judgments, as formerly, but his own all sufficient 
 will and pleasure. Instead of encouraging the manu- 
 factures, he sent over inhuman memorials against them, 
 which were so opposite to all reason, that they re- 
 futed themselves. In one of these, he remonstrates, 
 " That the tobacco of that country often bears so low 
 a price, that it will not yield clothes to the people that 
 make it ; " and yet presently after, in the same me- 
 morial, he recommends it to the parliament "to pass an 
 act, forbidding the plantations to make their own cloth- 
 ing ; " which, in other words, is desiring a charitable 
 law that the planters shall go naked. In a late me- 
 morial concerted between him and his creature, Col. 
 Quarrey, 'tis most humbly proposed, "That all the 
 English colonies on the continent of North America 
 be reduced under one government and under one 
 Viceroy ; and that a standing army be there kept on 
 foot, to subdue the Queen's enemies ; " surmising that 
 they were intending to set up for themselves. . . . 
 
 Soon after his accession to the government, he pro- 
 cured the assembly, and courts of judicature, to be 
 removed from Jamestown, where there were good 
 accommodations for people, to Middle Plantation, 
 where there were none. There he flattered himself 
 with the fond imagination of being the founder of a 
 new city. He marked out the streets in many places, 
 so as that they might represent the figure of a W> in 
 memory of his late Majesty King William, after whose 
 name the town was called Williamsburg. There he 
 
GOVERNOR NICHOLSON'S CAREER. 35 1 
 
 procured a stately fabric to be erected, which he placed 
 opposite to the college, and graced it with the magni- 
 ficent name of the " Capitol." . . . 
 
 In the second year of this gentleman's government, 
 there happened an adventure very fortunate for him, 
 which gave him much credit, that was the taking of a 
 pirate within the Capes of that country. 
 
 It fell out that several merchant ships were got 
 ready, and fallen down to Lynhaven Bay, near the 
 mouth of James River, in order for sailing. A pirate 
 being informed of this, and hearing that there was no 
 man-of-war there, except a sixth rate, ventured within 
 the Capes, and took several of the merchant ships. 
 But a small vessel happened to come down the bay, 
 and, seeing an engagement between the pirate and a 
 merchantman, made a shift to get into the mouth of 
 the James River, where the Shoram, a fifth rate man- 
 of-war, was newly arrived. The sixth rate, com- 
 manded by Capt. John Aldred, was then on the Carine 
 in Elizabeth River, in order for her return to England. 
 
 The Governor happened to be at that time at 
 Kiquotan, sealing up his letters, and Captain Passen- 
 ger, commander of the Shoram, went ashore to pay 
 his respects to him. In the meanwhile news was 
 brought that the pirate was got within the Capes ; 
 upon which the captain was in haste to go aboard his 
 ship. But the Governor stayed him a little promis- 
 ing to go along with him. The captain soon after 
 asked his excuse, and went off", leaving him another 
 boat, if he pleased to follow. It was about one 
 o'clock in the afternoon, when the news was brought ; 
 but 'twas within night, before his Excellency went 
 aboard, staying all that while ashore, upon some 
 
352 ROBERT BEVERLY. 
 
 weighty occasions. At last he followed, and by- 
 break of day the man-of-war was fairly out between 
 the Capes and the pirate ; where, after ten hours' 
 sharp engagement, the pirate was obliged to strike 
 and surrender upon the terms of being left to the 
 King's mercy. 
 
 Now it happened that three men of this pirate's 
 gang were not on board their own ship at the time of 
 the surrender, and so were not included in the articles 
 of capitulation, but were tried in that country. In 
 summing up the charge against them the (Governor 
 being present), the Attorney-General extolled his 
 Excellency's mighty courage and conduct, as if the 
 honor of taking the pirate had been due to him. Upon 
 this Capt. Passenger took the freedom to interrupt 
 Mr. Attorney in open court, and said that he was 
 commander of the Shoram ; that the pirates were his 
 prisoners ; and that nobody had pretended to com- 
 mand in that engagement but himself. He further 
 desired that the Governor who was then present 
 would do him the justice to confess whether he had 
 given the least word of command all that day, or 
 directed any one thing during the whole fight. This, 
 his Excellency acknowledged was true, and fairly 
 yielded him the honor of that exploit to the Captain. 
 
 A PERNICIOUS WEED. 
 
 [From the Same, Book II.] 
 
 The James Town Weed (which resembles the 
 thorny apple of Peru, and I take to be the plant so 
 
A PERNICIOUS WEED. 353 
 
 called) is supposed to be one of the greatest coolers 
 in the world. This being an early plant, was gath- 
 ered very young for a boiled salad, by some of the 
 soldiers sent thither to quell the Rebellion of Bacon ; 
 and some of them eat plentifully of it, and the effect 
 of which was a very pleasant comedy ; for they turned 
 natural fools upon it for several days. One would 
 blow up a feather in the air ; another would dart 
 straws at it with much fury ; and another, stark 
 naked, was sitting up in a corner, like a monkey, 
 grinning and making mows at them ; a fourth would 
 fondly kiss and paw his companions and sneer in their 
 faces with a countenance more antic than any in a 
 Dutch droll. In this frantic condition they were 
 confined lest they should in their folly destroy them- 
 selves ; though it was observed that all their actions 
 were full of innocence and good nature. ... A 
 thousand such simple tricks they played and after 
 eleven days, returned to themselves again, not remem- 
 bering anything that had passed. 
 
 Perhaps this was the same herb that Mark Antony's 
 army met with in his retreat from the Parthian war 
 and the Siege of Phraata, when such as had eaten 
 thereof employed themselves with much earnestness 
 and industry in grubbing up stones and removing 
 them from one place to another, as if it had been a 
 business of the greatest consequence. ( Wine, as the 
 story says, was found a sovereign remedy for it ; 
 which is likely enough, the malignity of this herb 
 being cold. 
 
354 ROBERT BEVERLY. 
 
 OF THE SERVANTS AND SLAVES IN 
 VIRGINIA. 
 
 [From the Same, Book IV. Part I.] 
 
 § 50. Their servants they distinguish by the names 
 of slaves for life, and servants for a time. 
 
 Slaves are the negroes, and their posterity, follow- 
 ing the condition of the mother, according to the 
 maxim, partus sequitur ventrem. They are called 
 slaves in respect to the time of their servitude, because 
 it is for life. 
 
 Servants are those which serve only for a few years, 
 according to the time of indenture, or the custom of 
 the country. The custom of the country takes place 
 upon such as have no indentures. The law in this 
 case is, that if such servants be under nineteen years 
 of age, they must be brought into court, to have their 
 age adjudged ; and from the age they are judged 
 to be of, they must serve until they reach four and 
 twenty. But if they be adjudged upwards of nine- 
 teen they are then only to be servants for the term of 
 five years. 
 
 §51. The male-servants, and slaves of both sexes> 
 are employed together in tilling and manuring the 
 ground, in sowing and planting tobacco, corn, etc. 
 Some distinction, indeed, is made between them in 
 their clothes; and food ; but the work of both is no 
 other than what the overseers, the freemen, and the 
 planters themselves do. 
 
 Sufficient distinction is also made between the 
 female-servants, and slaves ; for a white woman is 
 
THE PEOPLE OF VIRGINIA. 355 
 
 rarely or never put to work in the ground, if she be 
 good for anything else : and to discourage all planters 
 from using any women so, their law makes female- 
 servants working in the ground tithable, while it 
 suffers all other white women to be absolutely ex- 
 empted : Whereas on the other hand, it is a common 
 thing to work a woman slave out of doors ; nor does 
 the law make any distinction in her taxes, whether 
 her work be abroad, or at home. 
 
 §52. Because I have heard how strangely cruel, 
 and severe, the service of this country is represented 
 in some parts of England ; I can't forbear affirming, 
 that the work of their servants and slaves is no other 
 than what every common freeman does. Neither is 
 any servant required to do more in a day, than his 
 overseer. And I can assure you with great truth, 
 that generally their slaves are not worked near so hard, 
 nor so many hours in a day, as the husbandmen, and 
 day-laborers in England. An overseer is a man, that 
 having served his time, has acquired the skill and 
 character of an experienced planter, and is therefore 
 intrusted with the direction of the servants and slaves. 
 
 OF THE PEOPLE, INHABITANTS OF 
 VIRGINIA. 
 
 [From the Same, Book IV. Part II. Chap. XV.] 
 
 § 65. I can easily imagine with Sir Josiah Child, 
 that this as well as all the rest of the plantations, was 
 for the most part at first peopled by persons of low 
 circumstances, and by such as were willing to seek 
 
356 ROBERT BEVERLY. 
 
 their fortunes in a foreign country. Nor was it 
 hardly possible it should be otherwise ; for 'tis not 
 likely that any man of a plentiful estate should volun- 
 tarily abandon a happy certainty, to roam after imag- 
 inary advantages, in a new world. Besides which 
 uncertainty, he must have proposed to himself to 
 encounter the infinite difficulties and dangers that 
 attend a new settlement. These discouragements 
 were sufficient to terrify any man that could live easy 
 in England, from going to provoke his fortune in a 
 strange land. 
 
 § 66. Those that went over to that country first, 
 were chiefly single men, who had not the incum- 
 brance of wives and children in England ; and if they 
 had they did not expose them to the fatigue and 
 hazard of so long a voyage, until they saw how it 
 should fare with themselves. From hence it came to 
 pass, that when they were settled there in a comfort- 
 able way of subsisting a family, they grew sensible of 
 the misfortune of wanting wives, and such as had 
 left wives in England sent for them ; but the single 
 men were put to their shifts. They excepted against 
 the Indian women, on account of their being pagans, 
 as well as their complexions, and for fear they should 
 conspire with those of their own nation, to destroy 
 their husbands. Under this difficulty they had no 
 hopes, but that the plenty in which they lived, might 
 invite modest women, of small fortunes, to go over 
 thither from England. However, they would not 
 receive any, but such as could carry sufficient certifi- 
 cate of their modesty and good behavior. Those, if 
 they were but moderately qualified in other respects, 
 might depend upon marrying very well in those days, 
 
THE PEOPLE OF VIRGINIA. 357 
 
 without any fortune. Nay, the first planters were so 
 far from expecting money with a woman, that 'twas a 
 common thing for them to buy a deserving wife that 
 carried good testimonials of her character, at the price 
 of 100 pounds, and make themselves believe they had 
 a bargain. 
 
 §67. But this way of peopling the colony was 
 only at first ; for after the advantages of the climate, 
 and the fruitful ness of the soil were well known, and 
 all the dangers incident to infant settlement were 
 over, people of better condition retired thither with 
 their families, either to increase the estates they had 
 before, or else to avoid being persecuted for their 
 principles of religion, or government. 
 
 Thus in the time of the Rebellion in England, 
 several good cavalier families went thither with their 
 effects to escape the tyranny of the Usurper, or ac- 
 knowledgement of his title, and so again, upon the 
 Restoration, many people of the opposite party took 
 refuge there, to shelter themselves from the king's 
 resentment. But Virginia had not many of these last, 
 because that country was famous for holding out the 
 longest for the royal family, of any of the English 
 dominions ; for which reason, the Roundheads went 
 for the most part to New-England, as did most of 
 those, that in the reign of King Charles II. were 
 molested on account of their religion, though some of 
 these fell likewise to the share of Virginia. As for 
 malefactors condemned to transportation, tho' the 
 greedy planter will always buy them, yet it is to be 
 feared they will be very injurious to the country, 
 which has already suffered many murthers and rob- 
 beries, the effects of that new law of England. 
 
358 ROBERT BEVERLY. 
 
 THE PASTIMES OF COLONIAL VIRGINIA. 
 [From the Same, Book IV. Part II.] 
 
 For their recreation, the plantations, orchards, and 
 gardens constantly afford them fragrant and delight- 
 ful walks. In their woods and fields, they have an 
 unknown variety of vegetables, and other rarities of 
 nature to discover and observe. They have hunting, 
 fishing, and fowling, with which they entertain them- 
 selves an hundred ways. Here is the most good- 
 nature and hospitality practised in the world, both 
 toward friends and strangers ; but the worst of it is, 
 this generosity is attended now and then with a little 
 too much intemperance. The neighborhood is at 
 much the same distance as in the country in England ; 
 but with this advantage, that all the better sort of 
 people have been abroad, and seen the world, by 
 which means they are free from that stiffness and 
 formality, which discover more civility than kind- 
 ness. And besides, the goodness of the roads and 
 the fairness of the weather bring people oftener 
 together. 
 
 The Indians, as I have already observed, had in 
 their hunting a way of concealing themselves, and 
 coming up to the deer, under the blind of a stalking- 
 head, in imitation of which many people have taught 
 their horses to stalk it, that is, to walk gently by the 
 huntsman's side, to cover him from the sight of the 
 deer. Others cut down trees for the deer to browse 
 upon, and lie in wait behind them. Others again 
 set stakes at a certain distance within their fences, 
 
COLONIAL PASTIMES. 359 
 
 where the deer had been used to leap over into a 
 field of peas, which they love extremely ; these 
 stakes they so place, as to run into the body of the 
 deer, when he pitches, by which means they impale 
 him. 
 
 They hunt their hares (which are very numerous) 
 a-foot, with mongrels or swift dogs, which either 
 catch them quickly, or force them to a hole in a hollow 
 tree, whither all their hares generally tend, when 
 they are closely pursued. As soon as they are thus 
 holed, and have crawled up into the body of a tree, 
 the business is to kindle a fire and smother them with 
 smoke till they let go their hold and fall to the bottom 
 stifled ; from whence they take them. If they have 
 a mind to spare their lives, upon turning them loose 
 they will' bt as fit a* ever to hunt at another time : 
 for the mischief don~ them by the smoke immediately 
 wears off agah\ 
 
 They have another sort of hunting, which is very 
 diverting ; and .hat they call vermin-hunting ; it is 
 performed a -foot, with small dogs in the night, by 
 the light of the noon ©r stars. Thus in summer 
 time they find abidance of raccoons, opossums, and 
 foxes in the corn-Mds, and about their plantations ; 
 but at other times they must go into the woods for 
 mem. The methed is to go out with three or four 
 dogs, and, as soon as they come to the place, they 
 bid the dogs seek out, and all the company follow 
 immediately. Wherever a dog barks, you may de- 
 pend upon finding the game ; and this alarm draws 
 both men and dogs that way. If this sport be in 
 the woods, the game by that time you come near it is 
 perhaps mounted to the top of an high tree, and then 
 
360 ROBERT BEVERLY. 
 
 they detach a nimble fellow up after it, who must 
 have a scuffle with the beast, before he can throw it 
 down to the dogs ; and then the sport increases, to 
 see the vermin encounter those little curs. ... 
 
 For wolves they make traps, and set guns baited in 
 the woods, so that, when he offers to seize the bait, 
 he pulls the trigger, and the gun discharges upon him. 
 What Elian and Pliny write of the horses being be- 
 numbed in their legs, if they tread in the track of a 
 wolf, does not hold good here ; for I myself, and 
 many others, have rid full speed after wolves in the 
 woods, and have seen live ones taken out of a trap, 
 and dragged at a horse's tail ; and yet those that fol- 
 lowed on horse-back have not perceived any of their 
 horses to falter in their pace. . . . 
 
 The inhabitants are very courteous to travellers, 
 who need no other recommendation, but the being 
 human creatures. A stranger has no more to do, but 
 to inquire upon the road where any gentleman or good 
 housekeeper lives, and there he may depend upon 
 being received with hospitality. This good nature is 
 so general among their people, that the gentry, when 
 they go abroad, order their principal servant to enter- 
 tain all visitors with everything the plantation affords. 
 And the poor planters, who. have but one bed, will 
 very often sit up, or lie upon a form or couch all night, 
 to make room for a weary traveller to repose himself 
 after his journey. 
 
 If there happen to be a churl, that either out of 
 covetousness, or ill-nature, would not comply with 
 this generous custom, he has a mark of infamy set upon 
 him, and is abhorred by all. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
Colonial Prose and Poetry 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 WILLIAM P. TRENT 
 
 AND 
 
 BENJAMIN W. WELLS 
 
 THE 
 GROWTH OF THE NATIONAL SPIRIT 
 
 1710-1775 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 THOMAS Y. CROWELL CO, 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
&oH [ oloD 
 
 Copyright, 1901, 1903, 
 By THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 
 
 PAGH 
 
 Introduction ...... v 
 
 John Wise .... 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 Hugh Jones .... 
 
 
 
 II 
 
 William Byrd .... 
 
 
 
 21 
 
 The New England Primer 
 
 
 
 44 
 
 Benjamin Colman and the Turell 
 
 5 
 
 
 76 
 
 John Seccomb 
 
 
 
 105 
 
 Patrick Tailfer 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 10 
 
 Thomas Prince 
 
 
 
 
 
 120 
 
 William Douglass 
 
 
 
 
 
 125 
 
 William Stith . 
 
 
 
 
 
 • '35 
 
 Jonathan Edwards 
 
 
 
 
 
 - H3 
 
 Benjamin Franklin 
 
 
 
 
 
 190 
 
 Mather Byles . 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 2 37 
 
 Joseph Green . 
 
 
 
 
 
 240 
 
 John Osborn . 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 247 
 
 Thomas Hutchinson 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 251 
 
 John Barnard . 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 261 
 
 111 
 
iv CONTENTS. 
 
 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Benjamin Church . 
 
 275 
 
 Thomas Godfrey and Nathaniel Evans . 
 
 280 
 
 Jonathan Boucher .... 
 
 288 
 
 John Woolman . . . . 
 
 296 
 
 Philip Vickers Fithian 
 
 315 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The closing period of our colonial literature, lead- 
 ing up, as .it does, to the interesting political literature 
 of the Revolution, is characterized in every depart- 
 ment by a growing secularization, by an intenser con- 
 sciousness of the relation of letters to life, by greater 
 freedom of individual expression, and by democratic 
 aspiration. We can trace this change of spirit alike 
 in New England, the Middle, and the Southern Col- 
 onies, and in verse as well as in prose. 
 
 As we saw in the preceding volume, poetry re- 
 mained longer out of touch with colonial life than 
 any other form of literature. And still, at the out- 
 set of the eighteenth century, its mild, hypothetical 
 successes are those of imitation, but it is the imi- 
 tation of a secularized England. The sturdy rug- 
 gedness of the would-be poets of the earlier period 
 gives place, slowly, to a mechanical melody caught 
 from the school of Pope, smooth, shallow, monoto- 
 nous in its mimicry of elegance, with little thought and 
 less passion. -Such was the poetry of those eloquent 
 preachers, Mather Byles and Benjamin Colman, who 
 were both in intimate relations with British culture, 
 and were too modern in spirit to continue the Fan- 
 tastic School of Noyes and Cotton Mather. Such, 
 too, was the pathetically poor poetry of Colman' s 
 precocious daughter, Jane Turell, who dutifully learned 
 
VI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 from her father to regard Dr. Watts as " the laureate 
 of the Church of Christ," and Sir Richard Black- 
 more as <« far above all her praises." The " fatal 
 facility" of the "composures" of these new poets, 
 especially of Byles and his admiring disciples, is their 
 most deadly characteristic. They may have been 
 for their authors, as one of them, perhaps the most 
 naive of all, Roger Wolcott, says, " the improvement 
 of some vacant hours," but they will hardly prove 
 so for posterity. Yet it must be remembered that, 
 although they wrote execrable poetry, all these poets 
 were exemplary in their domestic and public relations. 
 Colman and Byles were great preachers, even if they 
 did depart far from the traditions of the Brahmins of 
 the preceding century, and Roger Wolcott was almost 
 as sturdy a public servant as Captain Edward Johnson 
 or Daniel Gookin. 
 
 This increased secularism of which we have spoken is 
 seen in an extreme form in the doggerel ballads of John 
 Seccomb, which gave him a celebrity intelligible only 
 to those who have made some study of his contempo- 
 raries on the New England Parnassus. In somewhat 
 higher humorous vein, very suggestive of the decay of 
 Puritanism in their trivial whimsicality, are the skits of 
 Joseph Green, in which we catch a note of personal 
 satire, characteristic of the formative days of democracy, 
 and destined to find swelling echoes in 'the succeeding 
 Revolutionary poets, who lie beyond our pale. It is 
 somewhat startling to find the New Englanders of the 
 generation after Cotton Mather prepared to appreciate 
 a parody of one of their own hymns. That they 
 should have appreciated John Osborn's simple Whal- 
 ing Song is not surprising ; but this hardy product 
 
INTRODUCTION. vil 
 
 of the soil was exceptional, even in Osborn's own 
 scanty verse, while the imitative Benjamin Church 
 and other versifiers, are more numerous than the more 
 crude and original writers of doggerel, like John 
 Maylem and George Cockings, who are not repre- 
 sented in these selections. 
 
 If we turn southward, we shall find that here also 
 the rare lyric poets are essentially imitators, though 
 with more real appreciation of their models, at least 
 in the case of Evans and Godfrey. There are occa- 
 sional good lines in the verses of both, and the latter 
 gives evidence of the possession of an imagination that 
 might have made him, not a great poet, but a worthy 
 rival of Freneau. And it must not be forgotten that 
 with Godfrey the poetic drama practically begins in 
 America. An unactable blank verse tragedy, to be 
 sure, The Prince of Parthia, must be pronounced to 
 be thoroughly imitative and scarcely readable, unless 
 one brings to it a considerable amount of patriotic 
 good will and sympathy for youthful talents eclipsed 
 by death. But it was creditable to have made the 
 attempt, and that credit belongs to the Pennsylvanian 
 school, which was more liberal, in its literary ideals, 
 than New England had yet become, and was certainly 
 more in touch with the eighteenth- century philosophic 
 spirit as it was then voicing itself in England and 
 France. 
 
 In verse, then, we leave our literature in a state 
 of increasing secularization which in a remote way in- 
 dicates the presence of that democratic spirit which 
 was slowly transforming the colonial mind. When 
 we turn to the theologians, most of whom in 
 the present volume are New Englanders, we shall 
 
V1U INTRODUCTION. 
 
 find this democratic independence marked at the very 
 outset in Wise, continuing philosophically in Edwards, 
 and over the verge of iconoclasm in the Scotch physician, 
 Douglass, who aired his opinions on many subjects 
 outside his profession. Wise was one of the most 
 brilliant, forcible, and original of our colonial prose 
 writers. The subject on which he wrote was of im- 
 mediate and intense interest to the colonists, at least 
 of New England, and he voiced more than any other 
 man of his time the creed of a religious democracy, 
 especially its opposition to the scheme of the Mathers 
 to substitute in church affairs the will of the clergy 
 for the will of the people. The meek and innocuous 
 Questions and Proposals of that godly company un- 
 masked themselves but slowly to the popular con- 
 sciousness. John Wise bided his time, and when 
 everybody was familiar with the question, he gave an 
 answer hardly less remarkable for its learning, its 
 satire, and its invective, than for its tremendous ear- 
 nestness and its forensic art. The theory of democ- 
 racy in a Christian church, as it was unfolded here, 
 long remained the palladium of New England's eccle- 
 siastical liberty, and helped to intensify the dread 
 with which, even after that liberty was assured, the 
 Massachusetts colony shrank from the introduction 
 of episcopacy in any form. Of his Vindication there 
 is more than one plain echo in the Declaration of In- 
 dependence. It was but natural that when the Rev- 
 olutionary leaders were preparing themselves and 
 others for that great act, they caused his books to be 
 reprinted, for these proved, as Professor Tyler has 
 well observed, "an armory of burnished weapons in 
 all that stern fight." 
 
INTRODUCTION. IX 
 
 Thus the beginning of the century sends its demo- 
 cratic call to the close; but the independence of 
 colonial theology is no less marked in the realm of 
 philosophy than in that of polity. Jonathan Edwards 
 is not only greater than the earlier theologians, he is 
 something more and other than they ; not merely the 
 greatest exponent of New England thought, but the 
 microcosmic expression of its character, in its strength 
 and in its weakness ; not alone an inheritor, but a 
 forerunner, bearing indeed the fruit of Cotton Mather 
 and Wigglesworth, but also the seed of Emerson and 
 of Channing. He was the first American to exert a 
 considerable influence on the metaphysical thought 
 of the world. In him Calvinism reached its culmina- 
 tion, and in him the emotional Christianity of New 
 England took a fresh lease of life. He was a poet in 
 embryo, a nature-mystic, a scientist, a logician, a 
 metaphysician, as well as a great preacher and theo- 
 logian, and to be an enduring classic he lacked only 
 the ripening effects of classical culture. There is a 
 pathos in his inevitable shortcomings ; but one recog- 
 nizes them only with an awestruck admiration of 
 what this provincial accomplished by sheer force of 
 hard thinking. 
 
 Independence in still another and distinctly remark- 
 able form is evidenced by William Douglass, who, 
 although he did not come to America from his native 
 Scotland until he was about twenty-five years old, 
 launched himself almost immediately into the f* general 
 union of total dissent" that had begun to characterize 
 the Boston even of his period. Controversy seems to 
 have been his native air, whether it were with his 
 professional brethren of the medical art, with the 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 clergy, the magistrates, or the government. No won- 
 der that a man who commanded such a keen, racy 
 style, and had such pitiless shrewdness to point his 
 sarcasm, should have found one of his chief subjects 
 in the crumbling Calvinistic orthodoxy, looming large, 
 though no longer portentous. He was practically the 
 first of our writers who dared to avow himself a ra- 
 tionalist, what the Frenchmen of his day would have 
 called a libertin. When he wrote history it was in 
 a journalistic vein, with a paragraphic pen, wholly 
 unreliable whenever his passions or prejudices were 
 touched, but keeping the mind alert by the very irreg- 
 ularity of his flashing wit. Like Bayle, he is best in 
 his footnotes, and is usually most amusing when he is 
 least instructive. His importance, however, for us 
 lies chiefly in this, that his animosity and unfairness 
 toward the Puritan clergy, though reprobated by 
 many, found favor with some, and that the time had 
 passed for the suppression of such* free speech. For 
 this reason we have spoken of him among the theo- 
 logians, although his heterogeneous activities might as 
 well have entitled him to a place elsewhere, or entirely 
 apart, and although our extracts from him touch only 
 once, and that slightly, upon theological matters. 
 
 Douglass serves to carry us over to the historians, 
 the publicists, and the depicters of colonial life and 
 manners. We have given a few extracts from his 
 numerous and needed "animadversions" on the con- 
 temporary craze for paper money, and some of our 
 selections from Franklin, that interesting Loyalist, 
 Rev. Jonathan Boucher, and a few other writers, 
 touch upon questions of more or less political import ; 
 but following our rule, we have in the main left such 
 
INTRODUCTION. XI 
 
 matters to one side. Of depicters of life and man- 
 ners we have chosen several representatives, about the 
 most important of whom, Byrd, Franklin, and Fithian, 
 more shall be said presently. Here we may mention 
 the interesting critical account of Virginia in the first 
 quarter of the eighteenth century, given by the Rev. 
 Hugh- Jones. He is especially valuable for the light 
 he throws upon Virginian education. He himself 
 prepared a series of text-books for his rather self- 
 willed pupils, and it is natural to place him in juxta- 
 position with that unique production known as The 
 New England Primer. This, as well as Jones's 
 tract, may be cited in proof of the contention that, 
 turn where we will, among the writings of this epoch, 
 we find plain indications of the steady growth of the 
 spirit of independence. The Primer, indeed, as 
 our extracts show, is a veritable barometer of political 
 feeling throughout the entire century. 
 
 When we turn to history proper, we note perhaps 
 a more marked change in essential character than we 
 do in any other department of literature. Narratives, 
 such as those of Bradford, and Winthrop, and John- 
 son, written by men who had been important partici- 
 pators in the great affairs they describe, are practically 
 no longer encountered. Life in the colonies has be- 
 come more ordered and less picturesque ; there is not 
 so much temptation to write the annals of one's own 
 generation, or to set down one's own reminiscences, 
 as there is to treat in a critical and philosophical man- 
 ner the records of the past. Thus, instead of im- 
 portant contemporary historians, we have historical 
 scholars like Thomas Prince, Thomas Hutchinson, 
 and William Stith, all of whom suffered from the 
 
Xll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 embarrassments incident to pioneer work. Prince 
 and Stith, especially, found their contemporaries in- 
 different to their scholarly zeal for preserving and set- 
 ting down in enduring form the records of the heroic 
 planters of the English colonies in the New World ; 
 but they have their reward in being remembered as in 
 a very real sense the fathers of American history. 
 Extracts from their writings give but a faint idea of 
 their services to scholarship. It would, of course, 
 have been possible to present selections from such 
 interesting contemporary records as the Entertain- 
 ing Passages Relating to Philip's War (1716), 
 published by»Thomas Church from the minutes of 
 his father, the famous Indian fighter, Colonel Benjamin 
 Church. But we have already dealt sufficiently with 
 the subject of Indian wars in the second volume, and 
 readers will perhaps gain from the additional space 
 we have been enabled to give to such an interesting 
 writer as Colonel Byrd, and to the remarkable True 
 and Historical Narrative written by Patrick Tailfer, 
 and others, which represents the only colony founded 
 during the present period, that of Georgia. We 
 need not vouch for its truth or its justice, but it is 
 certainly one of the most skilful pieces of special 
 pleading, as well as one of the most caustic denuncia- 
 tions of governmental abuse to be found in our early 
 literature. Thus, Georgia from the very first utters 
 the protest of independence, which each of the older 
 colonies was in turn learning to express. 
 
 Yielding in interest to none of the other writers 
 represented in this volume are the depicters of man- 
 ners already mentioned, Byrd and Fithian, who give 
 us intimate pictures of life in Virginia, North Carolina, 
 
INTRODUCTION. xill 
 
 and New Jersey. It is from the social side, also, that 
 we have approached in our extracts the almost universal 
 genius of Franklin. Byrd was unique among the 
 colonial writers, — a Virginian gentleman of princely 
 fortune and an easy assurance of superiority, whose 
 noblesse oblige condescended to men of low estate. 
 Energetic, resourceful, public spirited, he was the 
 most witty and ironical of all our writers before 
 Franklin, and worthy of the friendship he enjoyed of 
 some of the most brilliant members of the English 
 aristocracy. His writing is marked by a note of dis- 
 tinction. It is not that of a scholar or of a teacher, 
 or of a politician, but preeminently of a gentleman, 
 the natural outpouring of a rarely fertile mind, un- 
 studied, but remarkable for facile, graceful geniality. 
 His attitude toward religion may be contrasted with 
 that of Douglass on the one hand and that of the 
 exquisitely pious John Woolman on the other. He 
 is sceptical, but not militant. He feels himself too 
 much the superior of the parson to enter into any 
 controversy. His attitude is that of his English 
 friends, to whom it would have seemed as unbecom- 
 ing to urge a protest as to profess a creed. This 
 characteristic position of the " philosophers " of the 
 eighteenth century was as yet uncongenial to New 
 England. Philadelphia learned it before Boston. 
 The Autobiography of Franklin would show us, and 
 to some extent does even in our inadequate extracts, 
 how all-pervading this temper became, and how 
 scarcely any thoughtful man could escape its influence. 
 Of Franklin's place in our colonial literature it is 
 superfluous to speak. He was, at the close of the 
 period covered by this volume, not only the most 
 
xiv INTRODUCTION. 
 
 illustrious of Americans, but one of the most illustrious 
 of mankind. It is, as we have said, to the social 
 side of his multiform activities that we have sought to 
 direct the attention of the reader, who might be di- 
 verted by Franklin's political and scientific achieve- 
 ments from his contributions to the amelioration of 
 domestic and civic life, and above all, to the enlarging 
 and deepening of colonial ideals of municipal and 
 public spirit. Franklin is our one colonial scientist 
 of cosmopolitan fame. He is also our greatest master 
 of pithy, racy, and effective prose style. His Auto- 
 biography , from which most of our extracts are taken, 
 is said to be one of the half-dozen most widely popular 
 books ever printed. His shrewdness, his public spirit, 
 the universality of his interests, made his the greatest 
 of individual contributions to the building up of Ameri- 
 can character in the Post-Revolutionary generation. 
 Franklin's attitude, like that of Byrd, was that of the 
 eighteenth century. The clew to it is to be found in a 
 marginal note to his Autobiography, in which he ob- 
 serves that f' Nothing is so likely to make a man's 
 fortune as virtue." It is a smug philosophy, and that 
 its influence was felt even where it was most combated 
 would be clear to the reader of Fithian's Princeton 
 experiences, though in our extracts from this genial 
 diarist that note is less marked. We have chosen 
 from Fithian a passage that shows, as probably no 
 other contemporary writing does so briefly, the social 
 condition of the oldest colony on the eve of its in- 
 dependence, and with this judicially drawn picture our 
 illustrations of Colonial Prose and Poetry, of the 
 beginnings of Americanism, and the growth of the 
 national consciousness find their fit close. 
 
JOHN WISE. 
 
 John Wise, a New England clergyman and son of a 
 quondam serving-man, was born in Roxbury, Massa- 
 chusetts, in i652,anddiedat Ipswich in 1725. He was 
 graduated at Harvard in 1673, an( ^ ten y ear s later was 
 ordained pastor of Chebacco, near Ipswich, where he 
 remained till his death. In the agitation against the 
 government of Sir Edmund Andros, he took a leading 
 part, for which he was fined and imprisoned. He 
 was also deprived of his ministerial office, whereupon 
 his town, having paid his fine, sent him to Boston as 
 its representative. The Revolution of 1688 bringing 
 a change in the home government, he was active in 
 reorganizing the colonial administration, and was chap- 
 lain of the unfortunate expedition in 1690 to Canada. 
 In later ecclesiastical controversies he sided against the 
 Mathers in The Churches' Quarrel Espoused ( 1 7 1 o), 
 an essay much praised for its logical clarity and foren- 
 sic ability. His views were afterward presented more 
 fully in A Vindication of the Government of New Eng- 
 land Churches ( 1 7 1 7 ) . Wise was one of the earliest 
 American champions of democracy, a student of gov- 
 ernment, of wide reading and much penetration, and a 
 writer of a sonorous if somewhat cumbrous style. It 
 is significant that his two treatises were reissued on the 
 eve of the Revolutionary War as well as on that of the 
 War between the States. There is no doubt as to where 
 the valiant clergyman, who, with his almost herculean 
 strength once overcame a champion wrestler, would 
 have taken his stand in either crisis. 
 
JOHN WISE. 
 
 LOYALTY TO STATE AND CHURCH. 
 
 [From " The Churches' Quarrel Espoused." 
 i 710. The Epistle Dedicatory.] 
 
 My conclusion is with devoutest application to the 
 supreme throne, that the almighty God will bless the 
 great Anne, our wise and protestant princess ; New- 
 England's royal nurse, and great benefactress, that she 
 may live to see all the Protestant Churches through 
 her vast empire, more virtuous and more united, as 
 they all meet and center with their differing persua- 
 sions, by their love and royal actions, in her person 
 and government. Let her most excellent majesty, 
 next to Christ, continue absolute in her empire over 
 their hearts, and as she has made such a complete con- 
 quest, of all differing parties within her dominions, by 
 her wise and virtuous measures, and thereby won all 
 the fame of rule and sovereignty from her royal pro- 
 genitors, who could never so charm such mighty na- 
 tions. Let her reign continue the exactest model for 
 all courts in Europe ! and when she is full replete and 
 satisfied with length of days, and the most glorious 
 effects of a prosperous reign, let God favor her last- 
 ing and flourishing name with an unperishing monu- 
 ment, on which justice shall become obliged to inscribe 
 this memento, viz. ** Here lies in funeral pomp, the 
 princess of the earth, the store-house of all ennobling 
 and princely perfections." That if all the monarchs 
 on earth, have lost their excellencies, their arcana 
 imperii, their state, wisdom, skill in government, and 
 all sorts of heavenly, princely and heroic virtues ; 
 
LOYALTY TO STATE AND CHURCH. 3 
 
 here they may be found lodged in this one unparalleled 
 Monarch. 
 
 Let God bless his Excellency, and preserve the gov- 
 ernment of the Province, and let it continue always in 
 the hands of natives, and let our country, successively 
 breed men of such merit, as shall always enamor im- 
 perial majesty with their loyalty and worth ; and that 
 their true deserts may ever purchase for them such a 
 high station, whilst they shall plainly out-weigh their 
 rivals in the royal balance. And let them be always 
 patrons to these churches, as an acknowledgement to 
 the crown of heaven, as the settled condition of tenure 
 they hold by, and possess such royal demesnes. 
 
 Let the great and good God of heaven and earth 
 bless these churches, the beauty of the wilderness, and 
 continue so noble a ministry as they now have, and 
 prosper and requite their faithful and unwearied labors, 
 and let him continue the succession, and furnish the 
 next set with greater accomplishments and virtue. 
 
 Let Christ Jesus, the great shepherd, who hath the 
 care of the flocks in the wilderness, preserve inviolable, 
 the inestimable privileges and liberties of these churches ; 
 and let them entail them, with all other civil and sa- 
 cred rights and immunities which they now enjoy, as 
 a sure estate of inheritance, to the last posterity of this 
 people. And let their children, and children's chil- 
 dren remain from generation to generation, until the 
 world be done with ; and the sun has left shining. 
 So prays, the meanest of all your servants 
 in Christ, 
 
 John Wise. 
 
 May 31, 1 710. 
 
JOHN WISE. 
 
 DISAFFECTED WORKMEN. 
 
 [From " The Churches' Quarrel Espoused." 
 Answer to 4TH Query.] 
 
 And that we can as soon reconcile a republic with 
 an absolute monarchy, or the best sort of free states 
 with a politic tyranny, or at least with an oligarchy, 
 where the chief end of government is the enriching 
 and greatness of its ministers ; and this we may do, 
 when we have compounded these proposa Is and our plat- 
 form, so that as that faithful and noble friend to these 
 churches, the famous and learned Increase Mather, 
 D.D. in an appendix to his dissertation concerning the 
 sacrament, laments several plots conspiring the dissolu- 
 tion of these famous churches, in these words, viz. 
 The bold attempts which have of late been made to 
 unhinge and overset the congregational churches in 
 New-England, by decrying their holy covenant, &c. 
 We may here justly heighten the complaint, and cry, 
 Pro Dolor ! hinc Lacbrimae ! Alas, alas ! here's the 
 grief ! hence flows our tears ! for here is a bold attempt 
 indeed, not only to despoil the house of some particu- 
 lar piece of furniture, but to throw it quite out at win- 
 dows ; not only to take away some of its ornaments, 
 but to blow up its foundations. For these bold attempts 
 which that worthy complains of, seem now to be grown 
 very rampant ; for here is in view a combination of 
 workmen disaffected with the fashion of the old fabric, 
 who (in pretence) design to repair, but in reality to 
 ruin the whole frame. They appear (indeed) some- 
 thing in the manner of Nehemiah's men on the wall, 
 Neh. 4. 17. as it were with a trowel in one hand, 
 
HARVARD'S COMMENDAMUS. 5 
 
 with which they now and then put on a little untem- 
 pered mortar, to plaster over a chink or two, where 
 the old work by length of time, is somewhat weather- 
 beaten, to pacify the jealousies of the inhabitants, that 
 they may think these builders (surely) are mending, 
 and not marring their old comfortable habitation. But 
 in reality, they have in the other hand a formidable 
 maul, not as Nehemiah's weapon to defend, but to 
 break down the building ; for they are all hands at 
 work banging the platform in pieces, upon which the 
 old fabric is built. That may not the churches, and 
 all their lovers sigh and complain, as once Cicero did, 
 O Temporal O Mores/ who would have expected 
 such times and such things from such men ? 
 
 HARVARD'S COMMENDAMUS. 
 
 [From the Same, Part I. Section iv.] 
 
 . . . Accademical learning we profess to be a very 
 essential accomplishment in the gospel ministry. It 
 is introduced by the ordinary blessing of God upon 
 human endeavors, to supply the place of the cloven 
 tongues, and those other miraculous gifts and endow- 
 ments of mind, impressed upon Christ's ambassadors, 
 whereby fisher-men commence (j>er saltum') doctors 
 of divinity ; and in an instant were stocked with such 
 principles of religion, reason, and philosophy, that 
 they were capable to dispute with Athens itself, and 
 baffle the greatest wits she could produce, in defence, 
 and for the advancement of Christ's kingdom, Acts 
 17.18. 
 
6 JOHN WISE. 
 
 Thus it is very reasonable that the churches should 
 be well assured of the sufficiency of the learning of 
 those persons, ere they presume on the ministry ; 
 yet there is a fairer way in view, fuller of honor and 
 safety, than what the proposal directs to. 
 
 Our accademy is the store-house of learning, and 
 this all mankind will assent to. When you have lost 
 the company of the Muses, there they are found in 
 their freeholds, where they hold the balance of honor 
 amongst the learned. This is the place, if not of the 
 goddess Minerva or Apollo, yet the Bethel or temple 
 of God himself; the God of wisdom, where he, as 
 chief architect, with his under workmen, form wise 
 and learned men, and where you may have them 
 wrought off at first-hand. Then, certainly, here we 
 are to secure our credulity and confidence in this 
 affair ; here we are to know whether they be of the 
 right stamp, yea or no. 
 
 That of all men living, the best and most infallible 
 standard for the philosophical accomplishments of our 
 candidates, is the judgment of the honorable president, 
 and noble fellows of our famous college ; for this I am 
 sure must needs stand for a verity, that the judgment 
 of a real honest and skilful artificer (keeping close to 
 his shop) concerning the nature and qualities of an 
 edge-tool which he hath wrought, and hammered on 
 his own anvil, out of its first rude matter, must cer- 
 tainly excel him that hath been long from the trade, 
 that only takes it, turns and tries the edge slightly, or 
 has but a transient view of it : so that we may fairly 
 infer, that (as to human learning) Harvard* s Com- 
 mendamus is most valuable and sufficient, and justly 
 supplants these testimonials. 
 
HATRED OF ARBITRARY POWER. 7 
 
 ENGLISH HATRED OF ARBITRARY 
 POWER. 
 
 [From the Same, Part II. Section i.] 
 
 Englishmen hate an arbitrary power (politically 
 considered) as they hate the devil. 
 
 For that they have through immemorial ages been 
 the owners of very fair enfranchizements and liber- 
 ties, that the sense, favor or high esteem of them are 
 (as it were) extraduce> transmitted with the ele- 
 mental materials of their essence from generation to 
 generation, and so ingenate and mixed with their 
 frame, that no artifice, craft or force used can root it 
 out. Naturam expellas furca licet usque recurrit. 
 And though many of their incautelous princes have en- 
 deavored to null all their charter rights and immunities, 
 and agrandize themselves in the servile state of the sub- 
 jects, by setting up their own separate will, for the 
 great standard of government over the nations, yet 
 they have all along paid dear for their attempts, both 
 in the ruin of the nation, and in interrupting the in- 
 crease of their own grandeur, and their foreign settle- 
 ments and conquests. 
 
 Had the late reigns, before the accession of the great 
 William and Mary, to the throne of England, but 
 taken the measures of them, and her present majesty, 
 in depressing vice, and advancing the union and wealth, 
 and encouraging the prowess and bravery of the nation, 
 they might by this time have been capable to have given 
 laws to any monarch on earth ; but spending their time 
 in the pursuit of an absolute monarchy (contrary to 
 
8 JOHN WISE. 
 
 the temper of the nation, and the ancient constitution 
 of the government) through all the meanders of state 
 craft, it has apparently kept back the glory, and dampt 
 all the most noble affairs of the nation. And when, 
 under the midwifery of Macbiavilafi art, and cunning 
 of a daring prince, this Monster, tyranny, and arbi- 
 trary government, was at last just born, upon the hold- 
 ing up of a finger ! or upon the least signal given, ON 
 the whole nation goes upon this HYDRA. 
 
 The very name of an arbitrary government is ready 
 to put an Englishman's blood into a fermentation ; but 
 when it really comes, and shakes its whip over their 
 ears, and tells them it is their master, it makes them 
 stark mad ; and being of a memical genius, and in- 
 clined to follow the court mode,*they turn arbitrary 
 too. 
 
 That some writers, who have observed the govern- 
 ments and humors of nations, thus distinguish the 
 English. 
 
 The emperor (they say) is the king of kings, the 
 king of Spain is the king of men, the king of France 
 the king of asses, and the king of England the king of 
 devils ; for that the English nation can never be bridled, 
 and rid by an arbitrary prince. Neither can any chains 
 put on by despotic and arbitrary measures hold these 
 legions. That to conclude this plea, I find not 
 amongst all the catalogues of heroes or worthy things 
 in the English empire, peers to these undertakers ; 
 therefore we must needs range them with the arbitrary 
 princes of the earth, (such as the great Czar or Otto- 
 man monarch) who have no other rule to govern by, 
 but their own will. . . . 
 
CONCERNING REBELLION. 
 
 CONCERNING REBELLION. 
 
 [From " A Vindication of the Government of 
 New England Churches." 1717.] 
 
 In general concerning rebellion against government 
 for particular subjects to break in upon regular com- 
 munities duly established, is from the premises to vio- 
 late the law of nature ; and is a high usurpation upon 
 the first grand immunities of mankind. Such rebels 
 in states, and usurpers in churches affront the world 
 with a presumption that the best of the brotherhood 
 are a company of fools, and that themselves have fairly 
 monopolized all the reason of human nature. Yea, 
 they take upon them the boldness to assume a preroga- 
 tive of trampling under foot the natural original equality 
 and liberty of their fellows ; for to push the proprie- 
 tors of settlements out of possession of their old, and 
 impose new schemes upon them, is virtually to declare 
 them in a state of vassalage, or that they were born 
 so ; and therefore will the usurper be so gracious as 
 to insure them they shall not be sold at the next mar- 
 ket : They must esteem it a favor, for by this time all 
 the original prerogatives of man's nature are intention- 
 ally a victim, smoking to satiate the usurper's ambition. 
 It is a very tart observation on an English monarch, 
 and where it may by proportion be applied to a sub- 
 ject, must needs sink very deep, and serve for evidence 
 under his head. It is in the secret history of K. C. 2. 
 and K. J. 2. p. 2, says my author, Where the con- 
 stitution of a nation is such, that the laws of the land 
 are the measures both of the sovereign's commands, 
 
10 JOHN WISE. 
 
 and the obedience of the subjects, whereby it is pro- 
 vided ; that as the one are not to invade what by con- 
 cessions and stipulations is granted to the ruler ; so the 
 other is not to deprive them of their lawful and deter- 
 mined rights and liberties ; then the prince who strives 
 to subvert the fundamental laws of the society, is the 
 traitor and the rebel, and not the people, who endeavor 
 to preserve and defend their own. It's very applica- 
 ble to particular men in their rebellions or usurpations 
 in church or state. 
 
HUGH JONES. 
 
 Hugh Jones, a clergyman of the Established Church, 
 was bom in England in 1 669, and died in Cecil County, 
 Maryland, in 1760. He emigrated to the colonies 
 in 1 696, and for sixty-four years was rector of various 
 parishes in Maryland and Virginia. He was at one 
 time Chaplain to the Assembly of the latter colony,- 
 and in 1702 professor of mathematics in William and 
 Mafy College. He owes his place in this collection 
 to his curious and interesting book, The Present State 
 of Virginia, printed in London in 1724, but he de- 
 serves remembrance, also, for his labors as a text- 
 book writer for Virginian pupils, some of whose 
 characteristics are given in our extract. 
 
 VIRGINIAN TRAITS. 
 
 [From "The Present State of Virginia.* ' 
 1724.] 
 
 Thus they have good natural notions and will soon 
 learn arts and sciences ; but are generally diverted by 
 business or inclination from profound study and pry- 
 ing into the depth of things ; being ripe for manage- 
 ment of their affairs before they have laid so good a 
 foundation of learning, and had such instructions, and 
 
12 HUGH JONES. 
 
 acquired such accomplishments as might be instilled into 
 such good natural capacities. Nevertheless, through 
 their quick apprehension they have a sufficiency of 
 knowledge and fluency of tongue, though their learn- 
 ing for the most part be but superficial. 
 
 They are more inclinable to read men by business 
 and conversation than to dive into books, and are for 
 the most part only desirous of learning what is abso- 
 lutely necessary in the shortest and best method. 
 
 Having this knowledge of their capacities and incli- 
 nation from sufficient experience, I have composed on 
 purpose some short treatises adapted with my best judg- 
 ment to a course of education for the gentlemen of the 
 plantations : consisting in a short English grammar ; 
 an accidence to Christianity ; an accidence to. the 
 mathematics, especially to arithmetic in all its parts 
 and applications, algebra, geometry, surveying of land, 
 and navigation. 
 
 These are the most useful branches of learning for 
 them, and such as they willingly and readily master, 
 if taught in a plain and short method, truly applicable 
 to their genius ; which I have endeavored to do for 
 the use of them and all others of their temper and 
 parts. 
 
 They are not very easily persuaded to the improve- 
 ment of useful inventions (except a few, such as 
 sawing mills), neither are they great encouragers of 
 manufactures, because of the trouble and certain ex- 
 pense in attempts of this kind, with uncertain prospect 
 of gain ; whereas by their staple commodity, tobacco, 
 they are in hopes to get a plentiful provision ; nay, 
 often very great estates. 
 
 Upon this account they think it folly to take off 
 
VIRGINIAN TRAITS. 1 3 
 
 their hands (or negroes) and employ their care and 
 time about anything that may make them lessen their 
 crop of tobacco. 
 
 So that though they are apt to learn, yet they are 
 fond of, and will follow their own ways, humors, and 
 notions, being not easily brought to new projects and 
 schemes ; so that I question if they would have been 
 imposed upon by the Mississippi or South Sea or any 
 other such monstrous bubbles. 
 
 In their computations of time, weights, and meas- 
 ures, both of length, superficies, and solidity, they 
 strictly adhere to what is legal ; not running into pre- 
 carious customs as they do in England. Thus their 
 quart is the true Winchester ; their hundred is 100, 
 not 1 1 2, and they survey land by statute measure. 
 
 Indeed, what English coin is there is advanced in 
 value, so that a shilling passes for 14^., and a guinea 
 goes by tale for 26s. ; but the current money is the 
 Spanish, which in reality is about 1 5/. per cent, inferior 
 to our English coin, as settled by law : but frequently 
 the value of this varies in respect of sterling bills ac- 
 cording to the circumstances of trade ; currency and 
 sterling being sometimes at a par ; but for the generality 
 10 per cent, discount is allowed for sterling bills. 
 
 As for education, several are sent to England for it ; 
 though the Virginians being naturally of good parts (as. 
 I have already hinted) neither require nor admire as 
 much learning as we do in Britain ; yet more would 
 be sent over, were they not afraid of the small-pox, 
 which most commonly proves fatal to them. 
 
 But, indeed, when they come to England, they are 
 generally put to learn to persons that know little of 
 their temper, who keep them drudging on in what is 
 
14 HUGH JONES. 
 
 of least use to them, in pedantic methods too tedious 
 for their volatile genius. 
 
 For grammar learning, taught after the common 
 roundabout way, is not much beneficial nor delightful 
 to them ; so that they are noted to be more apt to 
 spoil their school fellows than improve themselves ; be- 
 cause they are imprisoned and enslaved to what they 
 hate and think useless, and have not peculiar manage- 
 ment proper for their humor and occasion. 
 
 A civil treatment with some liberty, if permitted 
 with discretion, is most proper for them, and they 
 have most need of, and readily take polite and mathe- 
 matical learning ; and in English may be conveyed to 
 them (without going directly to Rome and Athens) 
 all the arts, sciences and learned accomplishments of 
 the ancients and moderns, without the fatigue and ex- 
 pense of another language, for which most of them 
 have little use or necessity, since (without another) 
 they may understand their own speech, and all other 
 things requisite to be learned by them, sooner and 
 better. 
 
 Thus the youth might as well be instructed there as 
 here by proper methods, without the expense and dan- 
 ger of coming hither ; especially if they make use of 
 the great advantage of the college at Williamsburg, 
 where they may (and many do) imbibe the princi- 
 ples of all human and divine literature, both in Eng- 
 lish and in the learned languages. 
 
 By the happy opportunity of this college may they 
 be advanced to religious and learned education, accord- 
 ing to the discipline and doctrine of the established 
 Church of England ; in which respect this college may 
 prove of singular service, and be an advantageous and 
 
VIRGINIAN TRAITS. 1 5 
 
 laudable nursery and strong bulwark against the con- 
 tagious dissensions in Virginia ; which is the most 
 ancient and loyal, the most plentiful and flourishing, 
 the most extensive and beneficial colony belonging to 
 the Crown of Great Britain, upon which it is most 
 directly dependent ; wherein is established the Church 
 of England, free from faction and sects, being ruled by 
 the laws, customs and constitutions of Great Britain, 
 which it strictly observes, only where the circum- 
 stances and occasion of the country by an absolute 
 necessity require some small alterations ; which never- 
 theless must not be contrary (though different from 
 and subservient) to the laws of England. 
 
 Though the violence of neither Whig nor Tory 
 reigns there, yet have they parties ; for the very best 
 administration must expect to meet with some opposi- 
 tion in all places, especially where there is a mixture 
 of people of different countries concerned, whose edu- 
 cation and interest may propose to them notions and 
 views different from each other. 
 
 Most other plantations, especially they that are 
 granted away to proprietors, are inferior to Virginia ; 
 where the seeming interest and humor of the owners 
 often divert them from pursuit of the most proper 
 methods ; besides, they cannot have such a right 
 claim to the favor of the Crown, nor demand its best 
 protection, since they may often interfere with its 
 interest ; whereas Virginia is esteemed one of the 
 most valuable gems in the Crown of Great Britain. 
 
 Thus Virginia, having to itself, with Maryland, 
 the staple commodity of tobacco, has a great advan- 
 tage of all other plantations on the continent for the 
 encouragement of the Crown ; whereas others belong- 
 
1 6 HUGH JONES. 
 
 ing to gentlemen, or having no peculiar trade, can- 
 not expect such power to advance and improve their 
 interest. 
 
 To this add that Virginia equals, if not exceeds, 
 all others in goodness of climate, soil, health, rivers, 
 plenty and all necessaries and conveniences of life. 
 Besides, she has, among others, these particular advan- 
 tages of her younger sister Maryland, viz., freedom 
 from Popery and the direction of proprietors ; not but 
 that fart of Virginia which is between the rivers Poto- 
 mac and Rappahannock belongs to proprietors, as to 
 the quit rent, yet the government of these counties 
 (called the Northern Neck) is under the same regula- 
 tion with the other parts of the country. 
 
 If New England be called a receptacle of Dissenters, 
 and an Amsterdam of religion, Pennsylvania the nursery 
 of Quakers, Maryland the retirement of Roman Catho- 
 lics, North Carolina the refuge of runaways, and South 
 Carolina the delight of buccaneers and pirates, Vir- 
 ginia may be justly esteemed the happy retreat of true 
 Britons and true Churchmen for the most part ; neither 
 soaring too high nor drooping too low, consequently 
 should merit the greater esteem and encouragement. 
 
 The common planters, leading easy lives, do not 
 much admire labor, or any manly exercise, except 
 horse-racing, nor diversion, except cock-fighting, in 
 which some greatly delight. This easy way of living, 
 and the heat of the summer, make some very lazy, 
 who are then said to be climate-struck. 
 
 The saddle horses, though not very large, are 
 hardy, strong and fleet, and will pace naturally and 
 pleasantly at a prodigious rate. 
 
 They are such lovers of riding that almost every 
 
VIRGINIAN TRAITS. IJ 
 
 ordinary person keeps a horse ; and I have known 
 some spend the morning in ranging several miles in 
 the woods to find and catch their horses only to ride 
 two or three miles to church, to the court-house, or 
 to a horse-race, where they generally appoint to meet 
 upon business, and are more certain of finding those 
 that they want to speak or deal with, than at their 
 home. 
 
 No people can entertain their friends with better 
 cheer and welcome ; and strangers and travellers are 
 here treated in the most free, plentiful and hospitable 
 manner ; so that a few inns or ordinaries on the road 
 are sufficient. . . . 
 
 Some planters, etc., make good small drinks with 
 cakes of persimmons, a kind of plums which grow 
 there in great plenty ; but the common small beer is 
 made of molasses, which makes extraordinary brisk 
 good-tasted liquor at a cheap rate, with little trouble- 
 in brewing ; so that they have it brisk and fresh as 
 they want it in winter and summer. And as they 
 brew, so do they bake daily bread or cakes, eating too 
 much hot and new bread, which cannot be whole- 
 some, though it be pleasanter than what, has been 
 baked a day or two. 
 
 Some raise barley and make malt there, and others 
 have malt from England, with which those that un- 
 derstand it brew as good beer as in England, at proper 
 seasons of the year ; but the common strong malt drink 
 mostly used is Bristol beer, of which is consumed vast 
 quantities there yearly ; which, being well brewed and 
 improved by crossing the sea, drinks exceedingly fine 
 and smooth ; but malt liquor is not so much regarded 
 as wine, rack, brandy, and rum punch, with drams 
 
1 8 HUGH JONES. 
 
 of rum or brandy for the common sort, when they 
 drink in a hurry. 
 
 The common wine comes from Madeira or Fayal, 
 which, moderately drunk, is fittest to cheer the faint- 
 ing spirits in the heat of summer, and to warm the 
 chilled blood in the bitter colds of winter, and seems 
 most peculiarly adapted for this climate. Besides this, 
 are plentifully drunk with the better sort, of late years, 
 all kinds of French and other European wine, especially 
 claret and port. 
 
 Here is likewise used a great deal of chocolate, tea 
 and coffee, which, with several sorts of apparel, they 
 have as cheap or cheaper than in England, because 
 of the debenture of such goods upon their exportation 
 thither. Besides, they are allowed to have wines 
 directly from Madeira, and other commodities are 
 brought from the West Indies and the Continent, 
 which cannot be brought to England without spoiling. 
 
 As for grinding corn, etc., they have good mills 
 upon the runs and creeks ; besides hand-mills, wind- 
 mills, and the Indian invention of pounding hominy 
 in mortars burned in the stump of a tree, with a log 
 for a pestje hanging at the end of a pole, fixed like the 
 pole of a lave. 
 
 Though they are permitted to trade to no parts but 
 Great Britain, except these places, yet have they in 
 many respects better and cheaper commodities than 
 we in England, especially of late years ; for the coun- 
 try may be said to be altered and improved in wealth 
 and polite living within these few years, since the be- 
 ginning of Col. Spots wood's government, more than in 
 all the scores of years before that, from its first discovery. 
 The country is yearly supplied with vast quantities of 
 
VIRGINIAN TRAITS. 1 9 
 
 goods from Great Britain, chiefly from London, Bristol, 
 Liverpool, Whitehaven, and from Scotland. 
 
 The ships that transport these things often call at 
 Ireland to victual, and bring over frequently white 
 servants, which are of three kinds : 1 . Such as come 
 upon certain wages by agreement for a certain time. 
 
 2. Such as come bound by indenture, commonly 
 called kids, who are usually to serve four or five years. 
 
 3. Those convicts or felons that are transported, 
 whose room they had much rather have than their 
 company ; for abundance of them do great mischiefs, 
 commit robbery and murder, and spoil servants that 
 were before very good. But they frequently there 
 meet with the end they deserved at home, though in- 
 deed some of them prove indifferent good. Their 
 being sent thither to work as slaves for punishment is 
 but a mere notion, for few of them ever lived so well 
 and so easy before, especially if they are good for 
 anything. These are to serve seven, and sometimes 
 fourteen years, and they, and servants by indentures, 
 have an allowance of corn and clothes when they are 
 out of their time, that they may be therewith sup- 
 ported till they can be provided with service or other- 
 wise settled. With these three sorts of servants are 
 they supplied from England, Wales, Scotland, and 
 Ireland, among which they that have a mind to it 
 may serve their time with ease and satisfaction to 
 themselves and their masters, especially if they fall 
 into good hands. Except the last sort, for the most 
 part who are loose villains, made tame by Wild and 
 then enslaved by his forward namesake. To prevent 
 too great a stock of which servants and negroes, many 
 attempts and laws have been in vain made. 
 
20 HUGH JONES. 
 
 These, if they forsake their roguery, together with 
 the other kids of the later Jonathan, when they are 
 free, may work day labor, or else rent a small planta- 
 tion for a trifle almost ; or else turn overseers, if they 
 are expert, industrious, and careful, or follow their 
 trade, if they have been brought up to any, especially 
 smiths, carpenters, tailors, sawyers, coopers, brick- 
 layers, etc. The plenty of the country and the good 
 wages given to workfolks occasion very few poor, who 
 are supported by the parish, being such as are lame, 
 sick, or decrepit through age, distempers, accidents 
 or some infirmities ; for where there is a numerous 
 family of poor children, the vestry takes care to bind 
 them out apprentices till they are able to maintain 
 themselves by their own labor ; by which means they 
 are never tormented with vagrant and vagabond beg- 
 gars, there being a reward for taking up runaways 
 that are at a small distance from their home, if they 
 are not known or are without a pass from their mas- 
 ter, and can give no good account of themselves, 
 especially negroes. 
 
WILLIAM BYRD. 
 
 William Byrd, one of the most prominent mem- 
 bers of the Virginia Colonial Aristocracy, was born on 
 the magnificent ancestral estate of Westover on the 
 James River in 1674, anc * died there in 1744. The 
 son of a distinguished colonial official of like name, 
 he travelled in Europe, was educated in England for 
 the law, and thrice visited that country as agent of 
 his colony. He was a member of the King's Coun- 
 cil for thirty-seven years, and finally, its President. 
 He accumulated great wealth, lived in lordly state, and 
 gathered the most valuable library in the colony. Its 
 catalogue counts 3438 volumes. He did much to 
 encourage emigration, was founder of the city of 
 Richmond, and somewhat of an explorer. The West- 
 over Manuscripts first printed at Petersburg, Virginia, 
 in 1 84 1, contain an account of his experiences as 
 Commissioner of his colony in determining the border 
 line between Virginia and North Carolina in 1728, 
 together with a journey undertaken with a friend to 
 survey a grant of land on which he expected to ex- 
 ploit iron mines, and another frontier journey to mines 
 already in operation. All these tracts, the titles of 
 which are given in connection with the citations made 
 from them, are remarkable for their vigorous style, 
 their shrewd humor, and their valuable observations 
 of an economic nature. Byrd was one of the most 
 
22 WILLIAM BYRD. 
 
 cultivated Americans of the eighteenth century, and 
 would have been an ornament to any society. He 
 was at his best perhaps as a student of economics and 
 affairs, but he had also in him the makings of a great 
 writer. Although far from the centres of culture, he 
 was a patron of art and science and a Fellow of the 
 Royal Society of Great Britain. A new edition of 
 his writings, superintended by Prof. J. S. Bassett, 
 is now in press, and his letters are promised in the 
 Virginia Magazine of History and Biography. 
 
 NORTH CAROLINA HUSBANDRY. 
 
 [From "The History of the Dividing Line."] 
 
 [March] ioth [1728]. The Sabbath happened 
 very opportunely to give some ease to our jaded 
 people, who rested religiously from every work, but 
 that of cooking the kettle. We observed very few 
 cornfields in our walks, and those very small, which 
 seemed the stranger to us, because we could see no 
 other token of husbandry or improvement. But, 
 upon further inquiry, we were given to understand 
 people only made corn for themselves and not for 
 their stocks, which know very well how to get their 
 own living. Both cattle and hogs ramble into the 
 neighboring marshes and swamps, where they main- 
 tain themselves the whole winter long, and are not 
 fetched home till the spring. Thus these indolent 
 wretches, during one half of the year, lose the advan- 
 tage of the milk of their cattle as well as their dung, 
 and many of the poor creatures perish in the mire, 
 
ASYLUM FOR RUNAWAY SLAVES. 23 
 
 into the bargain, by this ill-management. Some who 
 pique themselves more upon industry than their 
 neighbors, will, now and then, in compliment to their 
 cattle, cut down a tree whose limbs are loaded with 
 the moss afore-mentioned. The trouble would be 
 too great to climb the tree in order to gather this 
 provender, but the shortest way (which in this country 
 is always counted the best) is to fell it, just like the 
 lazy Indians, who do the same by such trees as bear 
 fruit, and so make one harvest for all. 
 
 AN ASYLUM FOR RUNAWAY SLAVES. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 [March] 1 ith [1728]. . . . We had encamped 
 so early, that we found time in the evening to walk near 
 half a mile into the woods. There we came upon a 
 family of mulattoes that called themselves free, though 
 by the shyness of the master of the house, who took 
 care to keep least in sight, their freedom seemed a little 
 doubtful. It is certain many slaves shelter themselves 
 in this obscure part of the world, nor will any of 
 their righteous neighbors discover them. On the 
 contrary, they find their account in settling such fugi- 
 tives on some out-of-the-way corner of their land, to 
 raise stocks for a mean and inconsiderable share, 
 well-knowing their condition makes it necessary for 
 them to submit to any terms. Nor were these 
 worthy borderers content to shelter runaway slaves, 
 but debtors and criminals have often met with the 
 like indulgence. But if the government of North 
 
24 WILLIAM BYRD. 
 
 Carolina has encouraged this unneighhorly policy in 
 order to increase their people, it is no more than what 
 ancient Rome did before them, which was made a 
 city of refuge for all debtors and fugitives, and from 
 that wretched beginning grew up in time to be mis- 
 tress of a great part of the world. And, considering 
 how fortune delights in bringing great things out of 
 small, who knows but Carolina may, one time or 
 other, come to be the seat of some other great 
 empire ? 
 
 RUNNING THE BOUNDARY LINE 
 THROUGH THE DISMAL SWAMP. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 [March] 14th [1728]. Before nine of the clock 
 this morning, the provisions, bedding and other 
 necessaries, were made up into packs for the men to 
 carry on their shoulders into the Dismal. They 
 were victualled for eight days at full allowance, no- 
 body doubting but that would be abundantly suffi- 
 cient to carry them through that inhospitable place ; 
 nor indeed was it possible for the poor fellows to 
 stagger under more. As it was, their loads weighed 
 from 60 to 70 pounds, in just proportion to the 
 strength of those who were to bear them. It would 
 have been unconscionable to have saddled them with 
 burdens heavier than that, when they were to lug 
 them through a filthy bog which was hardly practi- 
 cable with no burdens at all. Besides this luggage at 
 
THROUGH THE DISMAL SWAMP. 25 
 
 their backs, they were obliged to measure the distance, 
 mark the trees, and clear the way for the surveyors 
 every step they went. It was really a pleasure to see 
 with how much cheerfulness they undertook, and 
 with how much spirit they went through all this 
 drudgery. For their greater safety, the commissioners 
 took care to furnish them with Peruvian bark, rhubarb, 
 and hipocoacanah, in case they might happen, in that 
 wet journey, to be taken with fevers or fluxes. Al- 
 though there was no need of example to inflame per- 
 sons already so cheerful, yet to enter the people with 
 the better grace, the author and two more of the 
 commissioners accompanied them half a mile into the 
 Dismal. The skirts of it were thinly planted with 
 dwarf reeds and gall bushes, but when we got into 
 the Dismal itself, we found the reeds grew there much 
 taller and closer, and to mend the matter were so 
 interlaced with bamboo-briers, that there was no 
 scuffling through them without the help of pioneers. 
 At the same time, we found the ground moist and 
 trembling under our feet like a quagmire, insomuch 
 that it was an easy matter to run a ten foot pole to 
 the head in it, without exerting any uncommon 
 strength to do it. Two of the men, whose burdens 
 were the least cumbersome, had orders to march 
 before, with their tomahawks, and clear the way, in 
 order to make an opening for the surveyors. By 
 their assistance we made a shift to push the line half 
 a mile in three hours, and then reached a small piece 
 of firm land, about 100 yards wide, standing up 
 above the rest like an island. Here the people were 
 glad to lay down their loads and take a little refresh- 
 ment, while the happy man, whose lot it was to 
 
26 WILLIAM BYRD. 
 
 carry the jug of rum, began already, like ^£sop's 
 bread-carriers, to find it grow a good deal lighter. 
 
 17th. . . . Since the surveyors had entered the 
 Dismal they had laid eyes on no living creature ; 
 neither bird nor beast, insect nor reptile came in 
 view. Doubtless the eternal shade that broods over 
 this mighty bog, and hinders the sunbeams from bless- 
 ing the ground, makes it an uncomfortable habitation 
 for anything that has life. Not so much as a Zealand 
 frog could endure so aguish a situation. It had one 
 beauty, however, that delighted the eye, though at 
 the expense of all the other senses : the moisture of 
 the soil preserves a continual verdure, and makes 
 every plant an evergreen, but at the same time the 
 foul damps ascend without ceasing, corrupt the air, 
 and render it unfit for respiration. Not even a turkey 
 buzzard will venture to fly over it, no more than the 
 Italian vultures will over the filthy lake Avernus or 
 the birds in the holy land over the salt sea where 
 Sodom and Gomorrah formerly stood. 
 
 In these sad circumstances the kindest thing we 
 could do for our suffering friends was to give them a 
 place in the Litany. Our chaplain for his part did 
 his office, and rubbed us up with a seasonable sermon. 
 This was quite a new thing to our brethern of North 
 Carolina, who live in a climate where no clergyman 
 can breathe, any more than spiders in Ireland. 
 
 We ordered several men to patrol on the edge of 
 the Dismal, both toward the North and toward the 
 South, and to fire guns at proper distances. This 
 they performed very punctually, but could hear noth- 
 ing in return, nor gain any sort of intelligence. In 
 the meantime whole flocks of women and children 
 
THROUGH THE DISMAL SWAMP. 27 
 
 flew hither to stare at us, with as much curiosity as 
 if we had lately landed from Bantam or Morocco. 
 Some borderers, too, had a great mind to know where 
 the line would come out, being for the most part 
 apprehensive lest their lands should be taken into 
 Virginia. In that case they must have submitted to 
 some sort of order and government ; whereas, in 
 North Carolina, every one does what seems best in 
 his own eyes. There were some good women that 
 brought their children to be baptized, but brought no 
 capons along with them to make the solemnity cheer- 
 ful. Jn the meantime it was strange that none came 
 to be married in such a multitude, if it had only been 
 for the novelty of having their hands joined by one 
 in holy orders. Yet so it was, that though our 
 chaplain christened above an hundred, he did not 
 marry so much as one couple during the whole ex- 
 pedition. But marriage is reckoned a lay contract in 
 Carolina, as I said before, and a country justice can 
 tie the fatal knot there, as fast as an archbishop. 
 
 None of our visitors could, however, tell us any 
 news of the surveyors, nor indeed was it possible any 
 of them should at that time, they being still laboring 
 in the midst of the Dismal. 
 
 It seems they were able to carry the line this day 
 no further than one mile and sixty-one poles, and 
 that whole distance was through a miry cedar bog, 
 where the ground trembled under their feet most 
 frightfully. In many places, too, their passage was 
 retarded by a great number of fallen trees, that lay 
 horsing upon one another. 
 
 Though many circumstances concurred to make 
 this an unwholesome situation, yet the poor men had 
 
28 WILLIAM BYRD. 
 
 no time to be sick, nor can one conceive a more 
 calamitous case than it would have been to be laid up 
 in that uncomfortable quagmire. Never were patients 
 more tractable, or willing to take physic, than these 
 honest fellows ; but it was from a dread of laying 
 their bones in a bog that would soon spew them up 
 again. That consideration also put them upon more 
 caution about their lodging. 
 
 They first covered the ground with square pieces 
 of cypress bark, which now, in the spring, they could 
 easily slip off the tree for that purpose. On this they 
 spread their bedding ; but unhappily the weight and 
 warmth of their bodies made the water rise up betwixt 
 the joints of the bark, to their great inconvenience. 
 Thus they lay not only moist, but also exceedingly 
 cold, because their fires were continually going out. 
 For no sooner was the trash upon the surface burnt 
 away, but immediately the fire was extinguished by 
 the moisture of the soil, insomuch that it was great 
 part of the sentinel's business to rekindle it again in a 
 fresh place, every quarter of an hour. Nor could 
 they indeed do their duty better, because cold was 
 the only enemy they had to guard against in a miser- 
 able morass, where nothing can inhabit. 
 
 20th. We could get no tidings yet of our brave 
 adventurers, notwithstanding we dispatched men to 
 the likeliest stations to inquire after them. They 
 were still scuffling in the mire, and could not possibly 
 forward the line this whole day more than one mile 
 and sixty-four chains. Every step of this day's 
 work was through a cedar bog, where the trees were 
 somewhat smaller and grew more into a thicket. It 
 was now a great misfortune to the men to find their 
 
THROUGH THE DISMAL SWAMP. 29 
 
 provisions grow less as their labor grew greater ; they 
 were all forced to come to short allowance, and con- 
 sequently to work hard without rilling their bellies. 
 Though this was very severe upon English stomachs, 
 yet the people were so far from being discomfited at 
 it, that they still kept up their good-humor, and 
 merrily told a young fellow in the company, who 
 looked very plump and wholesome, that he must 
 expect to go first to pot, if matters should come to 
 extremity. 
 
 This was only said by way of jest, yet it made him 
 thoughtful in earnest. However, for the present he 
 returned them a very civil answer, letting them know 
 that, dead or alive, he should be glad to be useful to 
 such worthy good friends. But, after all, this 
 humorous saying had one very good effect, for that 
 younker, who before was a little inclined by his 
 constitution to be lazy, grew on a sudden extremely 
 industrious, that so there might be less occasion to 
 carbonade him for the good of his fellow-travel- 
 lers. . . . 
 
 2 1 st. The surveyors and their attendants began 
 now in good earnest to be alarmed with apprehensions 
 of famine, nor could they forbear looking with some 
 sort of appetite upon a dog which had been the faith- 
 ful companion of their travels. 
 
 Their provisions were now near exhausted. They 
 had this morning made the last distribution, that so 
 each might husband his small pittance as he pleased. 
 Now it was that the fresh colored young man began 
 to tremble every joint of him, having dreamed, the 
 night before, that the Indians were about to barbecue 
 him over live coals. 
 
30 WILLIAM BYRD. 
 
 The prospect of famine determined the people, at 
 last, with one consent, to abandon the line for the 
 present, which advanced but slowly, and make the 
 best of their way to firm land. Accordingly they 
 set ofF very early, and, by the help of the compass 
 which they carried along with them, steered a direct 
 westerly course. They marched from morning till 
 night, and computed their journey to amount to about 
 four miles, which was a great way, considering the 
 difficulties of the ground. It was all along a cedar- 
 swamp, so dirty and" perplexed, that if they had not 
 travelled for their lives, they could not have reached 
 so far. 
 
 On their way they espied a turkey-buzzard, that 
 flew prodigeously high to get above the noisome ex- 
 halations that ascend from that filthy place. This 
 they were willing to understand as a good omen, 
 according to the superstition of the ancients, who 
 had great faith in the flight of vultures. However, 
 after all this tedious journey, they could yet discover 
 no end of their toil, which made them very pensive, 
 especially after they had eat the last morsel of their 
 provisions. But to their unspeakable comfort, when 
 all was hushed in the evening, they heard the cattle 
 low, and the dogs bark, very distinctly, which, to 
 men in that distress, was more delightful music than 
 Faustina or Farinelli could have made. In the 
 mean time the commissioners could get no news of 
 them from any of their visitors, who assembled from 
 every point of the compass. . . . 
 
 22nd. However long we might think the time, 
 yet we were cautious of showing our uneasiness, for 
 fear of mortifying our landlord. He had done his 
 
THROUGH THE DISMAL SWAMP. 3 1 
 
 best for us, and therefore we were unwilling he 
 should think us dissatisfied with our entertainment. 
 In the midst of our concern, we were most agreeably 
 surprised, just after dinner, with the news that the 
 Dismalites were all safe. These blessed tidings were 
 brought to us by Mr. Swan, the Carolina surveyor, 
 who came to us in a very tattered condition. 
 
 After very short salutations, we got about him as if 
 he had been a Hottentot, and began to inquire into his 
 adventures. He gave us a detail of their uncomfort- 
 able voyage through the Dismal, and told us, particu- 
 larly, they had pursued their journey early that 
 morning, encouraged by the good omen of seeing the 
 crows fly over their heads ; that, after an hour's 
 march over very rotten ground, they, on a sudden, 
 began to find themselves among tall pines, that grew 
 in the water, which in many places was knee-deep. 
 This pine swamp, into which that of Coropeak 
 drained itself, extended near a mile in breadth ; and 
 though it was exceedingly wet, yet it was much 
 harder at bottom than the rest of the swamp ; that 
 about ten in the morning they recovered firm land, 
 which they embraced with as much pleasure as ship- 
 wrecked wretches do the shore. 
 
 After these honest adventurers had congratulated 
 each other's deliverance, their first inquiry was for 
 a good house, where they might satisfy the importunity 
 of their stomachs. Their good genius directed them 
 to Mr. Brinkley's, who dwells a little to the south- 
 ward of the line. This man began immediately to 
 be very inquisitive, but they declared they had no 
 spirits left to answer questions till after dinner. 
 
 *' But pray, gentlemen," said he, «« answer me 
 
32 WILLIAM BYRD. 
 
 one question, at least : what shall we get for your 
 dinner?" To which they replied, f* No matter 
 what, so it be but enough." He kindly supplied 
 their wants as soon as possible, and by the strength 
 or that refreshment they made a shift to come to us 
 in the evening, to tell their own story. They all 
 looked very thin, and as ragged as the Gibeonite 
 ambassadors did in the days of yore. Our surveyors 
 told us they had measured ten miles in the Dismal, 
 and computed the distance they had marched since 
 to amount to about five more, so they made the 
 whole breadth to be fifteen miles in all. 
 
 RELIGION ON THE CAROLINA FRON- 
 TIER. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 [March] 17th [1728] . . . For want of men 
 in Holy Orders both the members of the Council and 
 Justices of the Peace are empowered by the laws of 
 that country to marry all those who will not take one 
 another's word ; but for the ceremony of christening 
 their children they trust that to chance. If a parson 
 come in their way, they will crave a cast of his office, 
 as they call it, else they are content their offspring 
 should remain as arrant pagans as themselves. They 
 account it among their greatest advantages that they 
 are not priest-ridden, not remembering that the clergy 
 is rarely guilty of bestriding such as have the misfor- 
 tune to be poor. One thing may be said for the in- 
 habitants of that province, that they are not troubled 
 
RELIGION ON THE FRONTIER. 33 
 
 with any religious fumes, and have the least supersti- 
 tion of any people living. They do not know Sunday 
 from any other day, any more than Robinson Crusoe 
 did, which would give them a great advantage were 
 they given to be industrious. But they keep so many 
 Sabbaths every week, that their disregard of the seventh 
 day has no manner of cruelty in it, either to servants 
 or cattle. 
 
 1 6th . . . We passed by no less than two quaker 
 meeting-houses, one of which had an awkward orna- 
 ment on the west end of it, that seemed to ape a 
 steeple. I must own I expected no such piece of 
 foppery from a sect of so much outside simplicity. 
 That persuasion prevails much in the lower end of 
 Nansemond County, for want of ministers to pilot the 
 people a decenter way to heaven. The ill reputation 
 of tobacco planted in those lower parishes makes the 
 clergy unwilling to accept of them unless it be such 
 whose abilities are as mean as their pay. Thus, 
 whether the churches be quite void or but indiffer- 
 ently filled, the quakers will have an opportunity of 
 g lining proselytes. It is a wonder no popish mission- 
 aries are sent from Maryland to labor in this neglected 
 vineyard, who we know have zeal enough to traverse 
 sea and land on the meritorious errand of making con- 
 verts. Nor is it less strange that some wolf in sheep's 
 clothing arrives not from New England to lead astray 
 a flock that has no shepherd. People uninstructed in 
 any religion are ready to embrace the first that offers. 
 It is natural for helpless man to adore his Maker in 
 some form or other, and were there any exception to 
 this rule, I should suspect it to be among the Hotten- 
 tots of the Cape of Good Hope and of North Carolina. 
 
34 WILLIAM BYRD. 
 
 COLONIAL CONVIVIAL CUSTOMS. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 [March] 26th. [1728]. Since we were like to 
 be confined to this place till the people returned out 
 of the Dismal, it was agreed that our chaplain might 
 safely take a turn to Edenton, to preach the Gospel 
 to the infidels there, and christen their children. He 
 was accompanied thither by Mr. Little, one of the 
 Carolina Commissioners, who, to show his regard 
 for the Church, offered to treat him on the road with 
 a fricassee of rum. They fried half a dozen rashers of 
 very fat bacon in a pint of rum, both which being 
 dished up together, served the company at once both 
 for meat and drink. Most of the rum they get in 
 this country comes from New England., and is so bad 
 and unwholesome, that it is not improperly called 
 "kill-devil." It is distilled there from foreign mo- 
 lasses, which, if skilfully managed, yields near gallon 
 for gallon. Their molasses comes from the same 
 country, and has the name of *f long sugar " in Caro- 
 lina, I suppose from the ropiness of it, and serves all 
 the purposes of sugar, both in their eating and drink- 
 ing. When they entertain their friends bountifully, 
 they fail not to set before them a capacious bowl of 
 Bombo, so called from the Admiral of that name. This 
 is a compound of rum and water in equal parts, made 
 palatable with the said " long sugar." As good humor 
 begins to flow, and the bowl to ebb, they take care to 
 replenish it with sheer rum, of which there is always a 
 reserve under the table. But such generous doings 
 happen only when that balsam of life is plenty. . . . 
 
PRIMITIVE DENTISTRY. 35 
 
 PRIMITIVE DENTISTRY. 
 
 [From "A Journey to the Land of Eden."] 
 
 [Oct. ] 9th [1733]. Major Mayo' s survey being 
 no more than half done, we were obliged to amuse 
 ourselves another day in this place. And that the 
 time might not be quite lost, we put our garments and 
 baggage into good repair. I for my part never spent 
 a day so well during the whole voyage. I had an 
 impertinent tooth in my upper jaw, that had been 
 loose for some time, and made me chew with great 
 caution. Particularly I could not grind a biscuit but 
 with much deliberation and presence of mind. Tooth- 
 drawers we had none amongst us, nor any of the 
 instruments they make use of. However, invention 
 supplied this want very happily, and I contrived to get 
 rid of this troublesome companion by cutting a caper. 
 I caused a twine to be fastened round the root of my 
 tooth, about a fathom in length, and then tied the other 
 end to the snag of a log that lay upon the ground, in 
 such a manner that I could just stand upright. Hav- 
 ing adjusted my string in this manner, I bent my knees 
 enough to enable me to spring vigorously off the ground, 
 as perpendicularly as I could. The force of the leap 
 drew out the tooth with so much ease that I felt noth- 
 ing of it, nor should have believed it was come away, 
 unless I had seen it dangling at the end of the string. 
 An under tooth may be fetched out by standing off 
 the ground and fastening your string at due distance 
 above you. And having so fixed your gear, jump 
 off your standing, and the weight of # your body, 
 added to the force of the spring, will prize out your 
 
36 WILLIAM BYRD. 
 
 tooth with less pain than any operator upon earth could 
 draw it. 
 
 This new way of tooth-drawing, being so silently 
 and deliberately performed, both surprised and de- 
 lighted all that were present, who could not guess 
 what I was going about. I immediately found the 
 benefit of getting rid of this troublesome companion, 
 by eating my supper with more comfort than I had 
 done during the whole expedition. 
 
 A PIONEER MINER'S MANSION. 
 
 [From "A Progress to the Mines in the Year 
 ■732-"] 
 
 [Sept.] 27th [1732] . . . I rode eight miles 
 together over a stony road and had on either hand 
 continual poisoned fields, with nothing but saplings 
 growing on them. Then I came into the main coun- 
 try road that leads from Fredericksburg to Germanna, 
 which last place I reached in ten miles more. This 
 famous town consists of Colonel Spotswood's en- 
 chanted castle on one side of the street, and a baker's 
 dozen of ruinous tenements on the other, where so 
 many German families had dwelt some years ago ; 
 but are now removed ten miles higher, in the Fork 
 of Rappahannock, to land of their own. There had 
 also been a chapel about a bow-shot from the colonel's 
 house, at the end of an avenue of cherry trees, but 
 some pious people had lately burnt it down, with in- 
 tent to get another built nearer to their own homes. 
 Here I arrived about three o'clock, and found only 
 Mrs. Spotswood at home, who received her old ac- 
 
A PIONEER MINER'S MANSION. 37 
 
 quaintance with many a gracious smile. I was car- 
 ried into a room elegantly set off with .pier glasses, 
 the largest of which came soon after to an odd mis- 
 fortune. Amongst other favorite animals that cheered 
 this lady's solitude, a brace of tame deer ran familiarly 
 about the house, and one of them came to stare at 
 me as a stranger. But unluckily spying his own fig- 
 ure in the glass, he made a spring over the tea-table 
 that stood under it, and shattered the glass to pieces, 
 and falling back upon the tea-table made a terrible fra- 
 cas among the china. This exploit was so sudden, 
 and accompanied with such a noise, that it surprised 
 me, and perfectly frightened Mrs. Spotswood. But 
 'twas worth all the damage to show the moderation 
 and good humor with which she bore this disaster. 
 In the evening the noble colonel came home from his 
 mines, who saluted me very civilly, and Mrs. Spots- 
 wood's sister, Miss Theky, who had been to meet 
 him en cavalier, was so kind too as to bid me wel- 
 come. We talked over a legend of old stories, supped 
 about 9, and then prattled with the ladies, till it was 
 time for a traveller to retire. In the mean time I ob- 
 served my old friend to be very uxorious, and exceed- 
 ingly fond of his children. This was so opposite to the 
 maxims he used to preach up before he was married, 
 that I could not forbear rubbing up the memory of 
 them. But he gave a very good-natured turn to his 
 change of sentiments, by alleging that whoever brings 
 a poor gentlewoman into so solitary a place, from all 
 her friends and acquaintance, would be ungrateful not 
 to use her and all that belongs to her with all possible 
 tenderness. 
 
 28th. We all kept snug in our several apartments 
 
38 WILLIAM BYRD. 
 
 till nine, except Miss Theky, who was the housewife 
 of the family. At that hour we met over a pot of 
 coffee, which was not quite strong enough to give us 
 the palsy. After breakfast the colonel and I left the 
 ladies to their domestic affairs, and took a turn in the 
 garden, which has nothing beautiful but three terrace 
 walks that fall in slopes one below another. I let 
 him understand, that besides the pleasure of paying 
 him a visit, I came to be instructed by so great a 
 master in the mystery of making of iron, wherein he 
 had led the way, and was the Tubal Cain of Virginia. 
 He corrected me a little there, by assuring me he was 
 not only the first in this country, but the first in North 
 America, who had erected a regular furnace. That 
 they ran altogether upon bloomeries in New England 
 and Pennsylvania, till his example had made them at- 
 tempt greater works. But in this last colony, they 
 have so few ships to carry their iron to Great Britain, 
 that they must be content to make it only for their 
 own use, and must be obliged to manufacture it when 
 they have done. That he hoped he had done the 
 country very great service by setting so good an exam- 
 ple. . . . Oar conversation on this subject continued 
 till dinner, which was both elegant and plentiful. 
 The afternoon was devoted to the ladies, who showed 
 me one of their most beautiful walks. They con- 
 ducted me through a shady lane to the landing, and 
 by the way made me drink some very fine water that 
 issued from a marble fountain, and ran incessantly. 
 Just behind it was a covered bench, where Miss 
 Theky often sat and bewailed her virginity. Then 
 we proceeded to the river, which is the south branch 
 of Rappahannock, about fifty yards wide, and so rapid 
 
A PIONEER MINER'S MANSION. 39 
 
 that the ferry boat is drawn over by a chain, and 
 therefore called the Rapidan. At night we drank 
 prosperity to all the colonel's projects in a bowl of 
 rack punch, and then retired to our devotions. 
 
 29th. Having employed about two hours in retire- 
 ment, I sallied out at the first summons to breakfast, 
 where our conversation with the ladies, like whip syl- 
 labub, was very pretty, but had nothing in it. This, 
 it seems, was Miss Theky's birthday, upon which I 
 made her my compliments, and wished she might live 
 twice as long a married woman as she had lived a 
 maid. I did not presume to pry into the secret of 
 her age, nor was she forward to disclose it, for this 
 humble reason, lest I should think her wisdom fell 
 short of her years. . . . We had a Michaelmas goose 
 for dinner, of Miss Theky's own raising, who was now 
 good-natured enough to forget the jeopardy of her dog. 
 In the afternoon we walked in a meadow by the river 
 side, which winds in the form of a horseshoe about 
 Germanna, making it a peninsula, containing about 
 four hundred acres. Rappahannock forks about four- 
 teen miles below this place, the northern branch being 
 the larger, and consequently must be the river that 
 bounds my Lord Fairfax's grant of the northern neck. 
 
 30th. The sun rose clear this morning, and so did 
 I, and finished all my little affairs by breakfast. It was 
 then resolved to wait on the ladies on horseback, since 
 the bright sun, the fine air, and the wholesome exer- 
 cise, all invited us to it. We forded the river a little 
 above the ferry, and rode six miles up the neck to 
 a fine level piece of rich land, where we found about 
 twenty plants of ginseng, with the scarlet berries grow- 
 ing on the top of the middle stalk. The root of this 
 
40 WILLIAM BYRD. 
 
 is of wonderful virtue in many cases, particularly to 
 raise the spirits and promote perspiration, which makes 
 it a specific in colds and coughs. The colonel com- 
 plimented me with all we found, in return for my 
 telling him the virtues of it. We were all pleased 
 to find so much of this king of plants so near the 
 colonel's habitation, and growing too upon his own 
 land ; but were, however, surprised to find it upon 
 level ground, after we had been told it grew only 
 upon the north side of Stony Mountains. I carried 
 home this treasure with as much joy as if every root 
 had been a graft of the Tree of Life, and washed and 
 dried it carefully. This airing made us as hungry as 
 so many hawks, so that between appetite and a very 
 good dinner, 'twas difficult to eat like a philosopher. 
 In the afternoon the ladies walked me about amongst 
 all their little animals, with which they amuse them- 
 selves, and furnish the table ; the worst of it is, they are 
 so tender-hearted they shed a silent tear every time any 
 of them are killed. At night the colonel and I quitted 
 the threadbare subject of iron, and changed the scene 
 to politics. He told me the ministry had receded 
 from their demand upon New England, to raise a 
 standing salary for all succeeding governors, for fear 
 some curious members of the House of Commons 
 should inquire how the money was disposed of that 
 nad been raised in the other American colonies for the 
 support of their governors. . . . Our conversation was 
 interrupted by a summons to supper, for the ladies, to 
 show their power, had by this time brought us tamely 
 to go to bed with our bellies full, though we both at first 
 declared positively against it. So very pliable a thing 
 is frail man, when women have the bending of him. 
 
A PIONEER MINER'S MANSION. 41 
 
 Oct. 1, 1732. Our ladies overslept themselves 
 this morning, so that we did not break our fast till 
 ten. We drank tea made of the leaves of ginseng, 
 which has the virtues of the root in a weaker degree, 
 and is not disagreeable. So soon as we could force 
 our inclinations to quit the ladies, we took a turn on 
 the terrace walk, and discoursed upon quite a new 
 subject. The colonel explained to me the difference 
 between the galleons and the flota, which very few 
 people know. The galleons, it seems, are the ships 
 which bring the treasure and other rich merchandise 
 to Cartagena from Portobello, to which place it is 
 brought overland from Panama and Peru. And the 
 flota is the squadron that brings the treasure, etc., 
 from Mexico and New Spain, which make up at La 
 Vera Cruz. Both these squadrons rendezvous at the 
 Havanna, from hence they shoot the Gulf of Florida, 
 in their return to Old Spain. That this important 
 port of the Havanna is very poorly fortified, and 
 worse garrisoned and provided, for which reason it 
 may be easily taken. Besides, both the galleons and 
 flota, being confined to sail through the gulf, might 
 be intercepted by our stationing a squadron of men- 
 of-war at the most convenient of the Bahama Islands. 
 And that those islands are of vast consequence for that 
 purpose. He told me also that the assogue ships are 
 they that carry quicksilver to Portobello and La Vera 
 Cruz to refine the silver, and that, in Spanish, as- 
 sogue signifies quicksilver. Then my friend unrid- 
 dled to me the great mystery, why we have endured 
 all the late insolences of the Spaniards so tamely. The 
 Assiento contract, and the liberty of sending a ship 
 every year to the Spanish West Indies, make it very 
 
42 WILLIAM BYRD. 
 
 necessary for the South Sea Company to have effects 
 of great value in that part of the world. Now these 
 being always in the power of the Spaniards, make the 
 directors of that company very fearful of a breach, and 
 consequently very generous in their offers to the min- 
 istry to prevent it. For fear these worthy gentlemen 
 should suffer, the English squadron, under Admiral 
 Hosier, lay idle at the Bastimentos, till the ships' 
 bottoms were eaten out by the worm, and the officers 
 and men, to the number of 5,000, died like rotten 
 sheep, without being suffered, by the strictest orders, 
 to strike one stroke, though they might have taken 
 both the flota and galleons, and made themselves mas- 
 ter of the Havanna into the bargain, if they had not 
 been chained up from doing it. All this moderation 
 our peaceable ministry showed even at a time when 
 the Spaniards were furiously attacking Gibraltar, and 
 taking all the English ships they could, both in Europe 
 and America, to the great and everlasting reproach of 
 the British nation. That some of the ministry, being 
 tired out with the clamors of the merchants, declared 
 their opinion for war, and while they entertained 
 those' sentiments they pitched upon him, Colonel 
 Spotswood, to be Governor of Jamaica, that by his 
 skill and experience in the art military, they might be 
 the better able to execute their design of taking the Ha- 
 vanna. But the courage of these worthy patriots soon 
 cooled, and the arguments used by the South Sea di- 
 rectors persuaded them once again into more pacific 
 measures. When the scheme was dropped, his gov- 
 ernment of Jamaica was dropped at the same time, 
 and then General Hunter was judged fit enough to 
 rule that island in time of peace. After this the 
 
A PIONEER MINER'S MANSION. 43 
 
 colonel endeavored to convince me that he came 
 fairly by his place of postmaster-general, notwith- 
 standing the report of some evil-disposed persons to 
 the contrary. The case was this. Mr. Hamilton, 
 of New Jersey, who had formerly had that post, 
 wrote to Colonel Spotsvvood, in England, to favor 
 him with his interest to get it restored to him. But 
 the colonel considering wisely that charity began at 
 home, instead of getting the place for Hamilton, se- 
 cured it for a better friend : though, as he tells the 
 story, that gentleman was absolutely refused, before 
 he spoke the least good word for himself. 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND 
 PRIMER. 
 
 Although the New England Primer has been 
 called the Little Bible of New England, and was, next 
 to the Scriptures, the book most read and studied 
 there for more than a century, yet so ironical is the 
 fate of books that it is not exactly known when it 
 first appeared. Furthermore, of some two million 
 copies that may well have been printed and sold 
 during the eighteenth century, less than fifty copies 
 are known to exist ; these, significantly enough, 
 represent no less than forty editions. The Primer 
 was first printed by Benjamin Harris, and was 
 adapted from that compiler's Protectant Tutor, a 
 book issued in England before he took refuge in 
 America. It must have been issued between 1687 
 and 1690, and have achieved immediate success. A 
 second edition was called for in 1 69 1 . By the be- 
 ginning of the next century we have evidence, from 
 an advertisement, that John Cotton's Shorter Cate- 
 chism, The Milk for Babes, was added to it, but the 
 first edition of the Primer known to collectors, that 
 of 1727, does not contain it. Indeed, there are such 
 constant changes, greater and smaller, in the make-up of 
 the book, that its bibliography is exceedingly difficult. 
 At first somewhat secular, it reached its stage of most 
 unrelenting piety between 1740 and 1760, as may 
 
 44 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 45 
 
 be seen by a comparison between the rhymed alpha- 
 bets in our extracts. Politics, too, influence the 
 changes, as may be observed under the letter K. The 
 Exhortation unto his Children of John Rogers appears 
 to have been written in 1555 by Robert Smith, a 
 martyr of that year. Some printer attributed the 
 authorship to Matthew Rogers, probably to secure a 
 better sale, Matthew (for John) being a name he had 
 assumed as translator for Tyndale. The introductory 
 statement regarding him does not accord with facts. 
 John Cotton's Milk for Babes was probably written 
 in 1 64 1 and printed before 1645. It was already 
 popular before the earliest issue of the Primer. The 
 Primer was gradually displaced by Webster's Blue 
 Back Speller and Third Part Reader, but it continued 
 to find sale in great numbers during the first forty 
 years of the nineteenth century. Our citations from 
 the early editions are taken by permission from Paul 
 Leicester Ford's admirable monograph, The New 
 England Primer. The Spiritual Milk and the Dia- 
 logue between Christ, Youth, and the Devil are 
 from the edition of 1762. The poem itself, how- 
 ever, is by the original compiler '* the neat and 
 poetical Ben Harris." A facsimile of a post- Revo- 
 lutionary edition of the Primer was issued by Ginn 
 and Company in 1901. Curious information re- 
 garding the book may be found in No. 2 of Volume 
 8 of Columbia University Contributions to Philosophy, 
 Psychology, and Education, an Essay by Dr. Reeder 
 on the Historical Development of School Readers and 
 Method in Teaching Reading (1900). 
 
THE 
 
 NEW ENGLAND 
 PRIMER 
 
 ENLARGED. 
 
 For the more easy attaining 
 the true Reading of English 
 
 To which is added 
 
 The Assembly of Divines 
 
 Catechism 
 
 Boston: Printed by S. Kneeland & T. Green, Sold by the 
 Booksellers. 1 727. 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 
 
 47 
 
 1727. 
 
 In Adam's Fall 
 We sinned all. 
 
 1762. 
 
 In Adam's Fall 
 We sinned all. 
 
 Thy Life to mend 
 This Book attend. 
 
 Heaven to find, 
 The Bible mind. 
 
 The Cat doth play ; 
 And after slay. 
 
 Christ crucy'd 
 For sinners dy'd. 
 
 A Dog will bite, 
 The Thief at Night. 
 
 The Deluged drown' d 
 The Earth around. 
 
 An .Eagle's flight, 
 Is out of sight. 
 
 Elijah hid 
 
 By ravens fed. 
 
 The idle Fool, 
 
 Is whipt at School. 
 
 The judgement made 
 Felix afraid. 
 
 As runs the Glass 
 Man's Life doth pass. 
 
 As runs the Glass, 
 Our Life doth pass. 
 
 My Book and Heart 
 Shall never part. 
 
 My Book and Heart 
 Must never part. 
 
 Job feels the rod 
 Yet blesses God. 
 
 Job feels the Rod 
 Yet blesses God. 
 
 Our King the good 
 No man of blood. 
 
 Proud Korah's troop 
 Was swallowed up. 
 
4 8 
 
 THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 
 
 1727. 
 
 The Lion bold, 
 
 The Lamb doth hold. 
 
 The Moon gives Light 
 In time of night. 
 
 Nightingales sing, 
 In time of Spring. 
 
 The Royal Oak, 
 
 it was the Tree, 
 
 That sav'd his 
 
 Royal Majesty. 
 
 Peter denies 
 
 His Lord and cries. 
 
 1762. 
 
 Lot fled to Zoar. 
 Saw fiery shower, 
 On Sodom pour. 
 
 Moses was he 
 Who Israel's Host 
 Led thro' the Sea. 
 
 Noah did view 
 
 The old world & new. 
 
 Young Obadius, 
 David, Josias, 
 All were Pious. 
 
 Peter deny'd 
 
 His Lord and cry'd. 
 
 Queen Esther comes 
 In Royal state 
 To save the Jews 
 From dismal fate. 
 
 Queen Esther sues, 
 And saves the Jews. 
 
 Rachel doth mourn 
 For her first born. 
 
 Young pious Ruth 
 Left all for Truth. 
 
 Samuel anoints 
 Whom God appoints. 
 
 Time cuts down all, 
 Both great and small. 
 
 Young Sam'l dear 
 The Lord did fear. 
 
 Young Timothy 
 Learnt Sin to fly. 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 
 
 49 
 
 1727. 
 
 Uriah's beauteous Wife, 
 Made David seek his life. 
 
 1762. 
 
 Vashti for Pride, 
 Was set aside. 
 
 Whales in the Sea 
 God's Voice obey. 
 
 Xerxes the great did die 
 And so must you & I. 
 
 Youth forward slips 
 Death soonest nips. 
 
 Zacheus he 
 
 Did climb the Tree 
 
 His Lord to see. 
 
 Whales in the Sea, 
 God's Voice obey. 
 
 Xerxes did die, 
 And so must I. 
 
 While Youth do chear 
 Death may be near. 
 
 Zaccheus he 
 
 Did climb the Tree, 
 
 Our Lord to see. 
 
 Now the Child being entred in his Letters and 
 Spelling, let him learn these and such like Sentences 
 by Heart, whereby he will be both instructed in his 
 Duty, and encouraged in his Learning. 
 
 The Dutiful Child's Promises. 
 
 I will fear GOD, and honour the KING. 
 I will honour my Father & Mother. 
 I will obey my Superiours. 
 I will submit to my Elders 
 I will Love my Friends 
 I will hate no Man 
 
 I will forgive my Enemies, and pray to God for 
 them. 
 
50 THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 
 
 I will as much as in me lies keep all God's Holy 
 Commandments 
 
 I will learn my Catechism 
 I will keep the Lord's Day Holy. 
 I will reverence God's sanctuary. 
 For our GOD is a consuming Fire. 
 
 Choice Sentences. 
 
 i . Praying will make thee leave sinning, or sin. 
 ning will make thee leave praying. 
 
 2. Our Weakness and Inabilities break not the 
 bond of our Duties. 
 
 3. What we are afraid to speak before Men, we 
 should be afraid to think before God. 
 
 Verses. 
 
 I in the Burying Place may see 
 
 Graves Snorter there than I ; 
 From Death's Arrest no Age is free, 
 
 Young Children too may die ; 
 My God, may such an awful Sight, 
 
 Awakening be to me ! 
 Oh ! that by early Grace I might 
 
 For Death prepared be. 
 
 Good Children must 
 
 Fear God all Day Love Christ alway 
 
 Parents obey In Secret Pray 
 
 No False thing Say Mind little Play 
 
 By no Sin Stray Make no delay 
 
 In doing Good 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 51 
 
 Awake, arise, behold thou hast 
 Thy Life a Leaf, thy Breath a Blast ; 
 At Night lye down prepar'd to have 
 Thy sleep, thy death, thy bed, thy grave. 
 
 Learn These Four Lines by Heart. 
 
 Have communion with few. 
 Be intimate with ONE. 
 Deal justly with all. 
 Speak Evil of none. 
 
 Mr. John Rogers, Minister of the Gospel in London, 
 was the first Martyr in Queen Mary' s Reign, and 
 was burnt at Smithfeld, February the Fourteenth, 
 1554. His Wife, with nine small Children & one 
 at her Breast, following Him to the Stake, with which 
 sorrowful Sight he was not in the least daunted, but 
 with wonderful Patience died courageously for the 
 Gospel of JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 Some few Days before his Death he writ the follow- 
 ing exhortation to his Children. 
 
 Give Ear my Children to my Words 
 
 whom God hath dearly bought, 
 Lay up his Laws within your Heart, 
 
 and print them in your thought. 
 I leave you here a little book, 
 
 for you to look upon. 
 That you may see your father's face, 
 
 when he is dead and gone. 
 
52 THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 
 
 Who for the hope of heavenly things 
 
 while he did here remain, 
 Gave over all his golden years 
 
 to prison and to pain. 
 Where I among my iron bands 
 
 enclosed in the dark, 
 Not many days before my death, 
 
 I did compose this work. 
 And for example to your youth, 
 
 to whom I wish all good, 
 I send you here GOD's perfect truth, 
 
 and seal it with my blood. 
 To you my heirs of earthly things, 
 
 which I do leave behind, 
 That you may read and understand, 
 
 and keep it in your mind. 
 That as you have been heirs of that 
 
 which once shall wear away, 
 You also may possess that part 
 
 which never shall decay. 
 Keep always God before your eyes, 
 
 with all your whole intent, 
 Commit no sin in any wise, 
 
 keep his commandements. 
 Abhor that arrant whore of Rome 
 
 And all her blasphemies 
 And drink not of her cursed cup 
 
 Obey not her decrees. 
 
 Give honour to your mother dear, 
 
 remember well her pain, 
 And recompence her in her age, 
 
 with the like love again. 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 53 
 
 Be always ready for her help 
 
 and let her not decay, 
 Remember well your father all, 
 
 That should have been your stay. 
 Give of your portion to the poor, 
 
 as riches do arise, 
 And from the needy naked soul 
 
 turn not away your eyes. 
 For he that doth not hear the cry 
 
 of those that stand in need, 
 Shall cry himself and not be heard, 
 
 when he does hope to speed. 
 If God hath given you increase, 
 
 and blessed well your store. 
 Remember you are put in trust, 
 
 and should relieve the poor. 
 Beware of foul and filthy lusts, 
 
 let such things have no place, 
 Keep clean your vessels in the LORD, 
 
 that he may you embrace. 
 Ye are the temples of the LORD, 5 
 
 for you are dearly bought, 
 And they that do defile the same, 
 
 shall surely come to nought. 
 Be never proud by any means. 
 
 build not thy house too high, 
 But always have before your eyes, 
 
 that you were born to die. 
 Defraud not him that hired is, 
 
 your labour to sustain, 
 And pay him still without delay, 
 
 his wages for his pain. 
 
54 THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 
 
 And as you would another man 
 
 against you should proceed, 
 Do you the same to them again, 
 
 if they do stand in need. 
 Impart your portion to the poor, 
 
 in money and in meat, 
 And send the feeble fainting soul, 
 
 of that which you do eat. 
 Ask council always of the wise, 
 
 give ear unto the end, 
 And ne'er refuse the sweet rebuke 
 
 of him that is thy friend. 
 Be always thankful to the LORD, 
 
 with prayer and with praise, 
 Begging of him to bless your work, 
 
 and to direct your ways. 
 Seek first I say the living GOD 
 
 and always him adore, 
 And then be sure that he will bless 
 
 your basket and your store. 
 Arid I beseech Almighty GOD 
 
 replenish you with grace, 
 That I may meet you in the Heav'ns, 
 
 and see you face to face. 
 And though the fire my body burns, 
 
 contrary to my kind, 
 That I cannot enjoy your love, 
 
 according to my mind. 
 Yet I do hope that when the Heav'ns 
 
 shall vanish like a scrowl, 
 I shall see you in perfect shape, 
 
 in body and in soul. 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 55 
 
 And that I may enjoy your love 
 
 and you enjoy the land, 
 I do beseech the living LORD, 
 
 to hold you in his hand. 
 Though here my body be adjudg'd 
 
 in flaming fire to fry, 
 My soul I trust will straight ascend, 
 
 to live with GOD on high. 
 What though this carcase smart a while, 
 
 what though this life decay, 
 My soul I trust will be with GOD, 
 
 and live with him for aye. 
 I know I am a sinner born, 
 
 from the original, 
 And that I do deserve tf die 
 
 by my fore father's fa ! 
 But by our Saviour, precious blood, 
 
 which on the cross was spilt, 
 Who freely offer' d up his life, 
 
 to save our souls from guilt. 
 I hope redemption I shall have, 
 
 and all that in him trust. 
 When I shall see him face to face, 
 
 and live among the just. 
 Why then should I fear Death's grim look, 
 
 since CHRIST for me did die ? 
 For King and Cesar, rich and poor, 
 
 the force of death must try. 
 When I am chained to the stake, 
 
 and faggots gird me round, 
 • Then pray the LORD my soul in Heav'n 
 
 may be with glory crown' d. 
 
56 THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 
 
 Come welcome death, the end of fears, 
 
 I am prepar'd to die, 
 Those earthly flames will send my soul 
 
 up to the LORD on high. 
 Farewell my children, to the world, 
 
 where you must yet remain, 
 The LORD of hosts be your defence, 
 
 till we do meet again. 
 Farewell my true and loving wife, 
 
 my children and my friends, 
 I hope in Heaven to see you all, 
 
 when all things have their ends. 
 If you go on to serve the LORD, 
 
 as you have now begun, 
 You shall walk safely all your days, 
 
 until your life be done. 
 GOD grant you so to end your days, 
 
 as he shall think it best, 
 That I may meet you in the Heav'ns 
 
 where I do hope to rest. 
 
 The Infants Grace Before and After Meat. 
 
 Bless me, O Lord, and let my food strengthen me 
 to serve thee, for Jesus Christ's sake. Amen. 
 
 I desire to thank God who gives me food to eat 
 every day of my life. Amen. 
 
 A Child's Prayer. 
 
 I pray God to bless my Father and Mother, Brother 
 and Sisters, and all my dear Friends. Amen. 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 57 
 
 (In various editions after 1690.) 
 
 SPIRITUAL MILK FOR AMERICAN 
 BABES, 
 
 Drawn out of the Breast of both Testaments, 
 for their Souls Nourishment. 
 
 by john cotton. 
 
 Quest. What hath God done for you ? 
 
 Ans. God hath made me, he keepeth me, and he 
 can save me. 
 
 Q. What is GOD? 
 
 A. God is a Spirit of himself and for himself. 
 
 Q. How many Gods be there ? 
 
 A. There be but One GOD in three Persons, the 
 Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. . 
 
 Q. How did God make you ? 
 
 A. In my first Parents holy and righteous. 
 
 Q. Are you then born Holy and Righteous f 
 
 A. No, my first Parents sinned, and I in them. 
 
 Q. Are you then born a Sinner ? 
 
 A. I was conceived in Sin & born in Iniquity. 
 
 Q. What is your Birth Sin ? 
 
 A. Adam's Sin imputed to me, and a corrupt 
 Nature dwelling in me. 
 
 Q. What is your corrupt Nature ? 
 
 A. My corrupt Nature is empty of Grace, bent 
 unto Sin, only unto Sin and that continually. 
 
 Q. What is Sin ? 
 
 A. Sin is the Transgression of the Law. 
 
58 THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 
 
 Q. How many Commandments of the Law be there ? 
 
 A. Ten. 
 
 Q. What is the first Commandment? 
 
 A. Thou shalt have no other Gods before me. 
 
 Q. What is the meaning of this Commandment ? 
 
 A. That we should worship the only true God, 
 and no other beside him. 
 
 Q. What is the second Commandment ? 
 
 A. Thou shalt not make unto thyself any graven 
 Image, &c. 
 
 Q. What is the meaning of this Commandment ? 
 
 A. That we should worship the only true GOD 
 with true Worship, such as he hath ordained, not such 
 as man hath invented. 
 
 Q. What is the third Commandment ? 
 
 A. Thou shalt not take the Name of the Lord thy 
 God in vain, &c. 
 
 Q. What is meant by the Name of GOD ? 
 
 A. God himself, and the good Things of God 
 whereby he is known as a Man by his Name, and his 
 Attributes, Worship, Word, and Works. 
 
 Q. What is it not to take his Name in vain ? 
 
 A. To make use of God, and the good Things of 
 God, to his Glory, and our own Good, not vainly, 
 not irreverently, not unprofitably. 
 
 Q. What is the fourth Commandment ? 
 
 A. Remember that thou keep holy the Sabbath 
 day. 
 
 Q. What is the meaning of this Commandment ? 
 
 A. That we should rest from Labour, and much 
 more from play on the Lord's Day, that we may draw 
 nigh to God in holy Duties. 
 
 Q. What is the fifth Commandment ? 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 59 
 
 A. Honour thy Father and thy Mother, &c. 
 
 Q. Who are here meant by Father and Mother ?■ 
 
 A. All our Superiors, whether in Family, School, 
 Church, or Common Wealth. 
 
 Q. What is the Honour due to them ? 
 
 A. Reverence, Obedience, and (when I am able) 
 Recompence. 
 
 Q. What is the sixth Commandment ? 
 
 A. Thou shalt do no Murder. 
 
 Q. What is the meaning of this Commandment ? 
 
 A. That we should not shorten the Life or Health 
 of ourselves or others, but preserve both. 
 
 Q. What is the seventh Commandment ? 
 
 A. Thou shalt not commit Adultery. 
 
 Q. What is the Sin here forbidden ? 
 
 A. To defile ourselves or others with unclean Lusts. 
 
 Q. What is the Duty here Commanded ? 
 
 A. Chastity to possess our Vessels in Holiness and 
 Honour. 
 
 Q. What is the eighth Commandment ? 
 
 A. Thou shalt not Steal. 
 
 Q. What is the stealth here forbidden ? 
 
 A. To take away another man's goods without his 
 Leave, or to spend our own without Benefit to our- 
 selves or others. 
 
 Q. What is the Duty here Commanded? 
 
 A. To get our Goods honestly, to keep them 
 safely, and spend them thriftily. 
 
 Q. What is the ninth Commandment ? 
 
 A. Thou shalt not bear false Witness, &c. 
 
 Q. What is the Sin here forbidden? 
 
 A. To lie falsely, to think or speak untruly of our- 
 selves or others. 
 
60 THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 
 
 Q. What is the Duty here required? 
 
 A. Truth and Faithfulness. 
 
 Q. What is the Tenth Commandment ? 
 
 A. Thou shalt not covet, &c. 
 
 Q. What is the coveting here forbidden ? 
 
 A. Lust after the Things of other Men, and Want 
 of Contentment with our own. 
 
 Q. Whether have you kept these Commandments ? 
 
 A. No, I and all Men are Sinners. 
 
 Q. What is the wages of Sin ? 
 
 A. Death and Damnation. 
 
 Q. How then do you look to be saved? 
 
 A. Only by Jesus Christ. 
 
 Q. Who is Jesus Christ ? 
 
 A. The eternal Son of God who for our sakes be- 
 came Man, that he might redeem and save us r 
 
 Q. How doth Christ redeem and save us ? 
 
 A. By his righteous Life and bitter Death, and 
 glorious Resurrection to Life again. 
 
 Q. How do we come to have a Part & Fellow- 
 ship with Christ in his Death & Resurrection ? 
 
 A. By the Power of his Word and Spirit, which 
 brings us to him, and keeps us in him. 
 
 Q. What is the Word? 
 
 A. The Holy Scriptures of the Prophets and Apos- 
 tles, the old and new Testament, the Law and Gospel. 
 
 Q. How doth the Ministry of the Law bring you 
 towards Christ? 
 
 A. By bringing me to know my Sin, and the 
 Wrath of God against me for it. 
 
 Q. What are you hereby the nearer to Christ ? 
 
 A. So I come to feel my cursed Estate and Need 
 of a Saviour. 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 6 1 
 
 Q. How doth the Ministry of the Gospel help you 
 in this cursed Estate ? 
 
 A. By humbling me yet more, and the raising me 
 out of this Estate. 
 
 • Q. How doth the Ministry of the Gospel humble 
 you ? 
 
 A. By revealing the Grace of the Lord Jesus in 
 dying to save Sinners, and yet convincing me of my 
 Sin in not believing on him, and of my utter Insuffi- 
 ciency to come to him, and so I feel myself utterly lost. 
 
 Q. How doth the Ministry of the Gospel raise you 
 up out of this lost Estate to come to Christ ? 
 
 A. By teaching me the Value & Virtue of the 
 Death of Christ, and the Riches of his Grace to lost 
 Sinners, by revealing the Promise of Grace to such, 
 and by ministring the Spirit of Grace to apply to Christ, 
 and his Promise of Grace unto myself, and to keep 
 me in him. 
 
 Q. How doth the Spirit of Grace apply Christ, his 
 Promise of Grace unto you, & keep you in him ? 
 
 A. By begetting in me Faith to receive him, 
 Prayer to call upon him, Repentance to mourn after 
 him and new Obedience to serve him. 
 
 Q. What is Faith ? 
 
 A. Faith is a Grace of the Spirit, whereby I deny 
 myself, and believe on Christ for Righteousness and 
 Salvation. 
 
 Q. What is Prayer ? 
 
 A. It is a calling upon God in the Name of Christ, 
 by the Help of the Holy Ghost, according to the Will 
 of God. 
 
 Q. What is Repentance ? 
 
 A. Repentance is a Grace of the Spirit, whereby 
 
62 THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 
 
 I loath my Sins, and myself for them, and confess 
 them before the Lord, and mourn after Christ for 
 the Pardon of them, and for Grace to serve him in 
 Newness of Life. 
 
 Q. What is Newness of Life or new Obedience ? - 
 
 A. Newness of Life is a Grace of the Spirit, 
 whereby I forsake my former Lusts & vain com- 
 pany, and walk before the Lord in the Light of his 
 Word, and in the Communion of Saints. 
 
 Q. What is the Communion of Saints ? 
 
 A. It is the Fellowship of the Church in the Bless- 
 ings of the Covenant of Grace, and the Seals thereof. 
 
 Q. What is the Church ? 
 
 A. It is a Congregation of Saints joined together 
 in the Bond of the Covenant to worship the Lord, 
 and to edify one another in all his holy Ordinances. 
 
 Q. What is the Bond of the Covenant by which the 
 Church is joined together ? 
 
 A. It is the Profession of that Covenant which God 
 hath made with his faithful People, to be a God unto 
 them, and to their Seed. 
 
 Q. What doth the Lord bind his People to in this 
 Covenant ? 
 
 A. To give up themselves and their Seed, first to 
 the Lord, to be his People, and then to the Elders & 
 Brethren of the Church, to set forward the Worship 
 of God & their mutual Edification. 
 
 Q. How do they give up themselves and their Seed 
 to the Lord? 
 
 A. By receiving thro' Faith the Lord & his Cove- 
 nant to themselves and to their Seed, and accordingly 
 walking themselves & training up their Children in 
 the Ways of the Covenant. 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 63 
 
 Q. How do they give up themselves and their Seed 
 to the Elders and Brethren ? 
 
 A. By Confession of their Sins, and Profession of 
 their Faith, and of their Subjection to the Gospel of 
 Christ ; and so they and their Seed are received into 
 the Fellowship of the Church and the Seals thereof. 
 
 Q. What are the Seals of the Covenant now In 
 the Days of the Gospel? 
 
 A. Baptism and the Lord's Supper. 
 
 Q. What is done for you in Baptism ? 
 
 A. In Baptism, the washing with Water is a Sign 
 and Seal of my washing in the Blood and Spirit of 
 Christ, and thereby of my ingrafting into Christ, of 
 the Pardon and cleansing of my Sins, of my raising up 
 out of Afflictions & also of my Resurrection from the 
 Dead at the last Day. 
 
 Q. What is done for you in the Lord' s Supper ? 
 
 A. In the Lord's Supper the receiving of the Bread 
 broken and the Wine poured out, is a Sign and Seal 
 of my receiving the Communion of the Body of Christ 
 broken for me, and of his Blood shed for me, and 
 thereby of my Grow 7 th In Christ, and the Pardon and 
 Healing of my Sins, of the Fellowship of the Spirit, 
 of my strengthening and quickening in Grace, and of 
 my sitting together with Christ on his Throne of Glory 
 at the last Judgment. 
 
 Q. What was the resurrection from the dead 
 which was sealed up to you in baptism ? 
 
 A. When Christ shall come at his last Judgment, 
 all that are in their Graves shall rise again, both the 
 Just and the Unjust. 
 
 Q. What is the last Judgment which is sealed up 
 to you in the Lord's Slipper? 
 
6d. THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 
 
 A. At the last Day we shall all appear before the 
 Judgment Seat of Christ to give an Account of our 
 Works, and to receive our Rewards according to them. 
 
 Q. What is the reward that shall then be given ? 
 
 A. The Righteous shall go into Life eternal and 
 the Wicked shall be cast into everlasting Fire with 
 the Devil and his Angels. 
 
 A DIALOGUE BETWEEN CHRIST, YOUTH, 
 AND THE DEVIL. 
 
 (In the first edition of the Primer , i68y(?), and nine subse« 
 quent ones. ) 
 
 YourH. 
 
 Those days which God to me doth send, 
 In pleasure I'm resolv'd to spend ; 
 Like as the birds in lovely spring, 
 Sit chirping on the boughs and sing, 
 Who straining forth those warbling notes, 
 Do make sweet music in their throats. 
 So I resolve in this my prime, 
 In sports and plays to spend my time. 
 Sorrow and grief I'll put away, 
 Such things agree not with my day, 
 From clouds my morning shall be free, 
 And nought on Earth shall trouble me. 
 I will embrace each sweet delight, 
 This Earth affords me day and night ; 
 Though parents grieve and me correct, 
 Yet I their counsel will reject. 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 65 
 
 Devil. 
 
 The resolution which you take, 
 Sweet youth, it doth me merry make, 
 If thou my counsel wilt embrace, 
 And shun the ways of truth and grace, 
 And learn to lie, to curse and swear, 
 And be as proud as any are ; 
 And with thy brothers wilt fall out, 
 And sisters with vile language flout. 
 Yea, fight and scratch, and also bite, 
 Then in thee I will take delight. 
 If thou wilt but be ruPd by me, 
 An artist thou shalt quickly be, 
 In all my ways which lovely are, 
 There's few with thee who shall compare, 
 Thy parents always disobey 
 Don't mind at all what they do say ; 
 And also pout and sullen be, 
 And thou shalt be a child for me. 
 When others read, be thou at play, 
 Think not on God, don't sigh nor pray, 
 Nor be thou such a silly fool, 
 To mind thy book, or go to school 
 But play the truant ■; fear not, I 
 Will straightway help you to a lie, 
 Which will excuse you for the same, 
 From being whip'd, and from all blame. 
 Come, bow to me, uphold my crown, 
 And I'll thee raise to high renown. 
 
66 THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 
 
 Youth. 
 
 These motions I will cleave unto, 
 And let all other counsels go ; 
 My heart against my parents now, 
 Shall hardned be, and will not bow ; 
 I won't submit at all to them, 
 But all good counsel will contemn : 
 And what I list, that do will I, 
 And stubborn be continually. 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 Wilt thou O youth make such a choice, 
 And thus obey the Devil's voice ! 
 Curs' d sinful ways wilt thou embrace, 
 And hate the ways of truth and grace ? 
 Wilt thou to me a rebel prove ; 
 And from thy parents quite remove 
 Thy heart also ? then shalt thou see, 
 What will e'er long become of thee. 
 Come, think on God, who did thee make, 
 And at this presence dread and quake ; 
 Remember him now in thy youth, 
 And let thy soul take hold of truth ; 
 The Devil and his ways defy, 
 Believe him not, he doth but lie, 
 His ways seem sweet, but youth beware, 
 He for thy soul hath laid a snare, 
 His sweet will into sower turn, 
 If in those ways thou still wilt run, 
 He will thee into pieces tear, 
 Like lions which most hungry are. 
 Grant me thy heart, thy folly leave, 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 67 
 
 And from this Lion I'll thee save ; 
 And thou shalt have sweet joy from me, 
 Which will last to eternity. 
 
 Youth. 
 
 My heart shall chear me in my youth ; 
 I'll have my frolicks in good truth ; 
 Whate'er seems lovely in mine eye, 
 Myself I cannot it deny. 
 In my own ways I still will walk, 
 And take delight among young folk, 
 Who spend their days in joy and mirth, 
 Nothing like that I'm sure on earth. 
 Thy ways, O Christ ! are not for me, 
 They with my age do not agree ; 
 If I unto thy laws should cleave, 
 No more good days then should I have. 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 Would thou live long and good days see, 
 Refrain from all iniquity : 
 True good alone doth from me flow, 
 It can't be had in things below. 
 Are not my ways, O youth for thee, 
 Then thou shalt never happy be ; 
 Nor ever shall thy soul obtain 
 True good whilst thou dost here remain. 
 
 Youth. 
 
 To thee, O Christ ! I'll not adhere, 
 What thou speak' st of does not appear 
 Lovely to me ; I cannot find 
 
68 THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 
 
 'Tis good to set or place my mind 
 Qg ways whence many sorrows spring, 
 Jpd**o the flesh such crosses bring, 
 Uon't trouble me, I must fulfil 
 My fleshly mind and have my will. 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 Unto thyself then I'll thee leave, 
 That Satan may thee wholly have : 
 Thy heart in sin shall hardned be, 
 And blinded in iniquity. 
 And then in wrath I'll cut thee down, 
 Like to the grass and flowers mown ; 
 And to thy wo thou shalt espy, 
 Childhood and youth are vanity. 
 For all such things I'll make thee know, 
 To judgment thou shalt come also ; 
 In Hell at last thy soul must burn, 
 When thou thy sinful race hast run. 
 Consider this, think on thy end, 
 Lest God do thee in pieces rend. 
 
 Youth. 
 Amazed, Lord ! I now begin, 
 
 help me, and I'll leave my sin. 
 
 1 tremble and do greatly fear, 
 To think upon what I do hear. 
 Lord ! I religious now will be, 
 And I'll from Satan turn to thee. 
 
 Devil, 
 Nay, foolish youth don't change thy mind, 
 Unto such thoughts be not inclin'd ; 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 69 
 
 Come, chear thy heart rouse up, be glad, 
 There is no Hell ; why art thou sad ? 
 Eat, drink, be merry with thy friends, ^ 
 For when thou diest that's thy last end. 
 
 Youth. 
 
 Such thoughts as these I can't receive, 
 Because GOD's word I do believe ; 
 None shall in this destroy my faith, 
 Nor do I mind what Satan saith. 
 
 Devil. 
 
 * That there's a Heaven I can't deny, 
 Yes, and a Hell of misery. 
 That Heaven is a lovely place, 
 I can't deny ; 'tis a clear case ; 
 And easy 'tis for to come there, 
 Therefore take thou no further care ; 
 All human laws do thou observe, 
 And from old customs never swerve ; 
 Thou may'st be drunk, and swear and curse, 
 And sinners like but ne'er the worse ; 
 At any time thou may'st repent, 
 'Twill serve when all thy days are spent. 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 Take heed or else thou art undone, 
 These thoughts are from the wicked one. 
 Narrow's the way that leads to life, 
 Who walk therein do meet with strife ; 
 Few shall be saved, young man know, 
 Most do unto destruction go. 
 
70 THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 
 
 If the righteous ones scarce saved be, 
 What will at last become of thee ! 
 Oh ! don't reject my precious call, 
 Lest suddenly to Hell thou fall ; 
 Unless thou soon converted be, 
 God's kingdom thou shalt never see. 
 
 Youth. 
 
 Lord, I am now at a great stand, 
 If I should yield to your command, 
 My comrades will me much deride, 
 And never more will me abide. 
 Moreover, this I also know, 
 Thou can' st at last great mercy show ; 
 When I am old and pleasure's gone, 
 Then what thou say'st I'll think upon. 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 Nay, hold vain youth, thy time is short, 
 I have thy breath, I'll end thy sport : 
 Thou shalt not live till thou art old, 
 Since thou in sin art grown so bold. 
 I in thy youth grim death will send, 
 And all thy sports shall have an end. 
 
 Youth. 
 
 I am too young, alas to die, 
 Let death some old grey head espy. 
 O spare me, and I will amend, 
 And with thy grace my soul befriend, 
 Or else I am undone alas, 
 For I am in a woful case. 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 7 1 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 When I did call, you would not hear, 
 But didst to me turn a deaf ear ; 
 And now in thy calamity, 
 I will not mind nor hear thy cry ; 
 Thy day is past, begone from me, 
 Thou who didst love iniquity, 
 Above thy soul and Saviour dear ; 
 Who on the cross great pains did bear, 
 My mercy thou didst much abuse, 
 And all good counsel didst refuse, 
 Justice will therefore vengeance take, 
 And thee a sad example make. 
 
 Youth. 
 
 O spare me, Lord, forbear thy hand, 
 Don't cut me off who trembling stand, 
 Begging for mercy at thy door, 
 O let me have but one year more. 
 
 CHRIST. 
 
 If thou some longer time should have, 
 Thou wouldst again to folly cleave : 
 Therefore to thee I will not give, 
 One day on earth longer to live. 
 
 Death. 
 Youth, I am come to fetch thy breath, 
 And carry thee to the shades of death, 
 No pity on thee can I show, 
 Thou hast thy God offended so. 
 Thy soul and body I'll divide, 
 
72 THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 
 
 Thy body in the grave I'll hide, 
 And thy dear soul in hell must lie 
 With Devils to eternity. 
 
 The conclusion. 
 Thus end the days of vvoful youth, 
 Who won't obey nor mind the truth ; 
 Nor hearken to what preachers say, 
 But do their parents disobey. 
 They in their youth go down to hell, 
 Under eternal wrath to dwell. 
 Many don't live out half their days, 
 For cleaving unto sinful ways. 
 
 ( From various later editions.) 
 
 Alphabet Verses. 
 
 0790 0797) 
 
 Kings should be good The British King 
 
 Not men of Blood Lost States Thirteen 
 
 (1825) (1819) 
 
 Queens and Kings 'Tis Youths Delight 
 
 Are gaudy things To fly their Kite 
 
 The Infant's Grace Before and After Meat. 
 
 Bless me, O Lord, and let my food strengthen me 
 to serve Thee for Jesus Christ's Sake. Amen. 
 
 I desire to thank God who gives me food every 
 day of my life. Amen. 
 
 Verses For Little Children. 
 
 Though I am young, a little one 
 If I can speak and go alone, 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 73 
 
 Then I must learn to know the Lord 
 
 And learn to read his holy word. 
 
 'Tis time to seek to God and pray 
 
 For what I want for ev'ry day : 
 
 I have a precious soul to save, 
 
 And I a mortal body have. 
 
 Tho' I am young, yet I may die, 
 
 And hasten to eternity : 
 
 There is a dreadful fiery Hell, 
 
 Where wicked ones must always dwell ; 
 
 There is a heaven full of joy, 
 
 Where godly ones must always stay ; 
 
 To one of these my soul must fly, 
 
 As in a moment when I die : 
 
 When God that made me calls me home, 
 
 I must not stay, I must be gone. 
 
 He gave me life, and gives me breath, 
 
 And he can save my soul from death, 
 
 By Jesus Christ my only Lord, 
 
 According to his holy word. 
 
 He clothes my back and makes me warm ; 
 
 He saves my flesh and bones from harm ; 
 
 He gives me bread and milk and meat, 
 
 And all I have that's good to eat. 
 
 When I am sick, he if he please, 
 
 Can make me well, and give me ease ; 
 
 He gives me sleep and quiet rest, 
 
 Whereby my body is refresh' d, 
 
 The Lord is good and kind to me, 
 
 And very thankful I must be : 
 
 I must not sin as others do, 
 
 Lest I lay down in sorrow too : 
 
 For God is angry ev'ry day, 
 
74 THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 
 
 With wicked ones that go astray, 
 
 All sinful words I must refrain : 
 
 I must not take God's name in vain. 
 
 I must not work, I must not play, 
 
 Upon Christ's holy Sabbath-day 
 
 And if my parents speak the word, 
 
 I must obey them in the Lord, 
 
 Nor steal nor lie, nor spend my days, 
 
 In idle talk and foolish plays. 
 
 I must obey my Lord's commands, 
 
 Do something with my little hands : 
 
 Remember my Creator now, 
 
 In youth while time will it allow. 
 
 Young Samuel that little child, 
 
 He served the Lord, liv'd undefil'd ; 
 
 Him in his service God employ' d, 
 
 While Eli's wicked children dy'd, 
 
 When wicked children mocking said, 
 
 To an old man, * ' Go up bald Head ; ' \ 
 
 God was displeas'd with them, and sent 
 
 Two bears which them in pieces rent. 
 
 I must not like those children vile, 
 
 Displease my God, myself defile, 
 
 Like young Abijah, I must see, 
 
 That good things may be found in me. 
 
 Young King Josiah, that blest youth, 
 
 He sought the Lord, and lov'd the truth ; 
 
 He like a king did act his part, 
 
 And follow' d God with all his heart. 
 
 The little children they did sing, 
 
 Hosannah's to their heavenly King. 
 
 That blessed child young Timothy, 
 
 Did learn God's word most needfully, 
 
THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 75 
 
 It seem'd to be his recreation, 
 Which made him wise unto salvation : 
 By faith in Christ which he had gain'd 
 With prayers & tears that faith unfeign'd. 
 These good examples were for me, 
 Like these good children I must be. 
 Give me true faith in Christ my Lord, 
 Obedience to his holy word, 
 No word is in the world like thine, 
 There's none so pure, sweet and divine, 
 From thence let me thy will behold, 
 And love thy word above fine gold. 
 Make my heart in thy statutes sound, 
 And make my faith and love abound. 
 Lord circumcise my heart to love thee, 
 And nothing in this world above thee. 
 Let me behold thy pleasant face, 
 And make my soul to grow in grace, 
 And in the knowledge of my Lord 
 And Saviour Christ, and of his word. 
 
 Now I lay me down to take my sleep, 
 
 I pray the Lord my soul to keep 
 
 If I should die before I wake 
 
 I pray the Lord my soul to take. (1737.) 1 
 
 1 This prayer appears in the editions of 1738, 1762, 1767., 
 1768, 1770, 1 771, 1775, etc. "I pray the Lord" was prob- 
 ably a misprint for " 1 pray Thee Lord," but was never corrected. 
 
 ' I 
 
BENJAMIN COLMAN AND 
 THE TURELLS. 
 
 Benjamin Colman, one of the most cultured of 
 the New England clergy, and head of the first organ- 
 ized revolt against the Puritan Hierarchy, was born 
 in Boston, October 19, 1673, and educated wholly 
 in the colony. He was graduated at Harvard in 
 1692, studied for the ministry, and, after preaching 
 for three years, set sail for England, which he reached 
 after capture by a French privateer and brief impris- 
 onment. During these trying experiences he behaved 
 with distinguished courage. In England he associ- 
 ated with prominent Nonconformists, and formed an 
 attachment — probably more Platonic than serious — 
 for the celebrated Miss Elizabeth Singer, " Philo- 
 mela," whose poetry is no better known to-day than 
 that of her American admirer. After having taken 
 the precaution to procure ordination in England, he 
 returned to Boston in 1699 and became pastor of the 
 Brattle Street Society organized in opposition to the 
 Brahminical Cambridge Platform. The reforms at 
 which he and his Church aimed were chiefly in the 
 form of service ; they wished to abolish the public 
 relation of experiences, to read the Bible and recite 
 die Lord's prayer. This was thought to justify ec- 
 clesiastical ostracism, and other Boston churches long 
 refused to hold communion with Brattle Street ; but 
 76 
 
THE ASCENT OF ELIJAH. 77 
 
 Colman ranked till his death, August 29, 1747, 
 among the first of the New England clergy, and he 
 was active in civil affairs, in education, and in mission 
 work among the Indians. It was a grievous blow to 
 the Mathers when in 1724 he was oifered the Presi- 
 dency of Harvard College, which eminent position he 
 however declined. He published many sermons, 
 some poems, and a tract in favor of inoculation for 
 small-pox. Two years after his death a biography 
 by his son-in-law, Rev. Ebenezer Turell, was pub- 
 lished at Boston. Most of our selections to represent 
 Colman's own writings are taken from this book, and 
 we have also added a section describing the young 
 clergyman's acquaintance with the fair " Philomela." 
 Mr. Turell (1 702-1 778), who was long minister at 
 Medford, is also important to us as the editor of the 
 poetical remains of his wife Jane (1708-173 5), Dr. 
 Colman's precocious daughter, whose imitative verses 
 are as pathetically impossible as those of Mrs. Brad- 
 street herself. As our selections from her husband's 
 loyal memorial are quite extensive, there is no need to 
 dwell here upon her life and character. 
 
 THE ASCENT OF ELIJAH. 
 
 [From «' A Poem on Elijah's Translation," 
 1707. Occasioned by the Death of the Rev- 
 erend and Learned Mr. Samuel Willard.] 
 
 'Twas at high noon, the day serene and fair, 
 Mountains of lum'nous clouds roll'd in the air, 
 When on a sudden, from the radiant skies, 
 
78 BENJAMIN COLMAN. 
 
 Superior light flasht in Elisha's eyes. 
 The Heav'ns were cleft, and from the imperial throne 
 A stream of glory, dazzling splendor, shone ; 
 Beams of ten thousand suns shot round about, 
 The sun and every blazon' d cloud went out ; 
 Bright hosts of angels lin'd the heavenly way, 
 To guard the saint up to eternal day. 
 Then down the steep descent a chariot bright, 
 And steeds of fire, swift as the beams of light. 
 Wing'd seraphs ready stood, bow'd low to greet 
 The fav'rite saint, and hand him to his seat. 
 Enthron'd he sat, transformed with joys his mien, 
 Calm his gay soul, and, like his face, serene. 
 His eye and burning wishes to his God, 
 Forward he bow'd, and on the triumph rode. 
 Saluted, as he passed the heavenly cloud, 
 With shouts of joy, and hallelujahs loud. 
 Ten thousand thousand angel trumpets sound, 
 And the vast realms of heaven echoed round. 
 They sang of greater triumphs yet to come, 
 Their next descent to wait the Saviour home : 
 And the glad errand of the final day, 
 The raised dust of saints to bring away 
 In equal triumph, and in like array. 
 
 A QUARREL WITH FORTUNE. 
 
 [From '? The Life and Character of the Rever- 
 end Benjamin Colman, D.D." By E. Turell. 
 1749. Chap. IV.] 
 
 [The Daughter with Mr. Colman used to range over the Manor 
 in the Afternoons. She asked a poem from him : He told her 
 
THE INCOMPARABLE PHILOMELA. 79 
 
 it would lead into a Quarrel She promised it should not on her 
 Part. So the next Day he wrote one with this Title, " A Quar- 
 rel with Fortune: " Because (forsooth) he was not equal to her 
 in Rank and Riches — In it was the following Simile.] 
 
 So have I seen a little silly fly 
 
 Upon a blazing taper dart and die. 
 
 The foolish insect ravish' d with so bright 
 
 And fair a glory, would devour the light. 
 
 At first he wheels about the threatening fire, 
 
 With a career as fleet as his desire : 
 
 This ceremony past, he joins the same 
 
 In hopes to be transform' d himself to flame. 
 
 The fiery, circumambient sparkles glow, 
 
 And vainly warn him of his overthrow, 
 
 But resolute he'll to destruction go. 
 
 So mean-born mortals, such as I, aspire, 
 
 And injure with unhallowed desire, 
 
 The glory we ought only to admire. 
 
 We little think of the intense fierce flame, 
 
 That gold alone is proof against the same ; 
 
 And that such trash as we, like drossy lead, 
 
 Consume before it, and it strikes us dead. 
 
 THE INCOMPARABLE PHILOMELA. 
 
 [From the Same, Chap. IV.] 
 
 One of the first pleasures Mr. Colman had at Bath 
 was his coming into an acquaintance with the lovely 
 Philomela, Mrs. Elizabeth Singer of Agford near 
 Frome. She had a volume of poems then in print, 
 being about her twenty-fourth year. Mr. Rogers 
 
80 BENJAMIN COLMAN. 
 
 had made her an high compliment, in a book he 
 dedicated to the virtuous and good-humored ladies. 
 Mr. Singer invited him to come and see his daughter, 
 that she might thank him. Mr. Colman invited him- 
 self to go with him, having read her poems. They 
 found her comely in body, lowly in dress, with a soul 
 fair and bright as an angel. 
 
 Mr. Singer led them out to see his daughter's walk 
 or lodge near his house, where she used to meditate 
 and compose. It was a retired and shady path, a 
 rivulet on one side, and tall spreading trees on the 
 other. Mr. Rogers required Mr. Colman to make 
 a compliment on the place : Her father joined his re- 
 quest ; when they returned he sent her a poem which 
 began thus, 
 
 So Paradise was brightened, so 'twas blest, 
 
 When innocence and beauty it possest. 
 
 Such was its more retired path and seat, 
 
 For Eve and musing angels a retreat. 
 
 Such Eden's streams, and banks, and tow'ring groves; 
 
 Such Eve herself, and such her muse and loves. 
 
 Only there wants an Adam on the green, 
 
 Or else all Paradise might here be seen. 
 
 Mr. Singer was highly pleased with Mr. Colman, and 
 prayed him to enter into a friendship and correspond- 
 ence with his daughter, and that he would often come 
 and see them. 
 
 Mr. Singer called himself Argos, having an hundred 
 eyes upon his daughter, but he seemed to shut them 
 all in Mr. Colman' s favor. Both father and daughter 
 treated him with utmost freedom and affection. Be- 
 fore company especially Mrs. Singer behaved as though 
 he had been her brother. Mr. Colman loved her 
 
THE INCOMPARABLE PHILOMELA. 8l 
 
 without the least intention of ever saying so to her. 
 She saw it, and it pleased her greatly. They wrote 
 to one another often : Mr. Colman made long visits, 
 sometimes for days together, and they were always 
 unwilling to part. 
 
 Once he visited her at my Lady Weymouth's, who 
 much esteemed and honored her. So did Bishop 
 Ken, who then resided at that noble house. Mr. 
 Roberts of London was then with Mr. Colman. 
 They carried a note from her father without which 
 they could not have seen her. She let the family see 
 how much she regarded him. The Bishop gave him 
 his blessing. And at a mile from the Seat they met 
 Mr. Phillips ofFrome, a very aged gracious minister, 
 and he blest Mr. Roberts. Upon which he turned 
 and said to Mr. Colman, M Now, Sir, I am even with 
 you." 
 
 Mr. Singer told Mr. Colman that Philomela's 
 mother was every way her superior, in knowledge, 
 wisdom, and grace. And that he had buried a younger 
 daughter, her equal in knowledge, and superior in 
 grace. Philomela herself told him it was very true. 
 The discourse of that afternoon was upon this dead, 
 charming sister, the father being gone out to his work. 
 She told him the following most entertaining story. 
 
 ** My sister," said she, "was a year or two younger 
 than I, and her affection as well as wit was quicker. 
 I seemed, however, to myself to think more thoroughly. 
 She desired ever to be with me, and I wanted to be 
 more by myself. We often retired by consent, each 
 to her chamber, to compose and then to compare what 
 we wrote. She always exceeded me in the number 
 of lines, but mine I think were more correct. She 
 
82 BENJAMIN COLMAN. 
 
 exceeded me much in the fondness of love, but never 
 in the truth and strength of it. She was jealous of 
 me that my love was not equal to hers, and invented 
 an hundred ways to try me.; many of which I thought 
 childish and weak, and therefore sometimes rather re- 
 proved than complied with. This gave her grief, and 
 I should find her in tears, which I could not put a stop 
 to but by the tenderest words and embraces. 
 
 '« We lived years together as happy as children 
 could be in one another ; we lived religiously together ; 
 took care of one another's souls, and had our constant 
 hours for retirement and devotion. We were daily 
 speaking to one another of the things of God, his being, 
 perfections, works ; the wonders of creation and provi- 
 dence, the mysteries of redemption and grace. — My 
 father in his widowhood took great delight in us, cher- 
 ished our love to God and one another, but like good 
 Jacob, was fondest of the youngest, admiring all that 
 she said or did. And in her death he was to be 
 tried. — 
 
 *' But it was I that was taken sick, to a very dan- 
 gerous degree. And when the physicians were giv- 
 ing me over, my dear sister came to me drowned in 
 tears ; and earnestly kissing me, besought me to tell 
 her whether I was (through grace) prepared to die ? 
 Whether my interest in Christ and title to heaven were 
 comfortable and clear to me ? For she was afraid I 
 would die ; and she could not part with me only to 
 go to Christ, which was far the better. 
 
 " I looked earnestly upon her and said, ' Why, 
 sister, do you think me dangerous ? I must confess 
 to you my distress would be great on account of my 
 soul, if I thought my dying hour were now coming 
 
THE INCOMPARABLE PHILOMELA. 83 
 
 on : for I have not that full assurance of my interest 
 in Christ, which I have always begged of God I might 
 have, before he would call me hence.' 
 
 " No sooner had she heard me say this, but she 
 fell as in an agony on her knees by my bed, and in a 
 manner inexpressible for fervor and humility, she 
 begged of God, « That if her father must have the 
 grief of burying one of his children, it might be her ; 
 for through his free grace, and to the glory of it, she 
 could humbly profess before him her assured hope of 
 her interest in his everlasting mercy through Jesus 
 Christ. Wherefore she could gladly and joyfully sur- 
 render herself to die, if it might please God to grant 
 her sister a further space wherein to make her calling 
 and election sure.' 
 
 M Having prayed thus in a transport which was sur- 
 prising and astonishing to me, she kissed me and left 
 the room, without giving me time or power to answer 
 her a word. And, what is almost incredible to re- 
 late, from that minute I grew better and recovered, 
 but she took her bed, and died within a few days. 
 
 " Conceive, if you can, Mr. Colman, how I was 
 astonished at this event of Providence, and over- 
 whelmed with sorrow ; and my father with me. Yet 
 I recovered health : but the load of grief upon me 
 confined me to my chamber for more than six weeks. 
 My chief work was to consider the mind of God, in 
 this his mercy to me, that I might make it evident to 
 myself, that indeed in love to my soul he delivered 
 me from the pit of corruption. I set myself to com- 
 fort my father, what I could, and that was his care 
 for me. We durst not be inconsolable under a be- 
 reavement so circumstanced. Yet my mourning is 
 
84 BENJAMIN COLMAN. 
 
 always returning with a remembrance of a love 
 stronger than death, and bright like the Seraphims, 
 those flames of love and devotion." 
 
 How exalted a conversation was this which Mr. 
 Colman had with Mrs. Singer. He told her upon 
 it that he was more in love with the dead than the 
 living : and that she must yield her sister the victory ; 
 and confess her love to excell in strength as well as 
 fervor. 
 
 After many such happy conversations the day ar- 
 rived when he was obliged to pay a parting visit, 
 being earnestly invited to New-England and to a 
 settlement in Boston, which he informed the family 
 of — when Mrs. Singer poured out a thousand wishes 
 for his prosperity ; his serviceableness in the church 
 of Christ on earth, and his happiness with her in 
 that above for ever. Her father added a thousand 
 prayers and blessings to hers, with tears and the most 
 tender embraces. Mr. Colman believed God called 
 him to return home to his dear relations and loved 
 country. — 
 
 His character of Mrs. Singer in his manuscripts 
 follows, — " She was an heavenly maid of sublime 
 devotion and piety, as well as ingenuity and wit. 
 How she had collected such a stock of knowledge 
 and literature, by reading and conversation, without 
 a learned tutor was wonderful. But her wisdom and 
 discretion outshone her knowledge. She had only 
 her mother tongue, but had made all the improve- 
 ment of an academical education. She was a poet, 
 a philosopher and a divine. And above all, a most 
 devout worshipper of God in secret and in public. 
 She hid herself in the public worship in an obscure 
 
A MEDITATION. 85 
 
 place, where she could neither see others nor be seen 
 by them. 
 
 «« Music, poetry and painting were her three beauties 
 and delights. She used her pencil almost as well as 
 her pen. She never was idle, but either her needle 
 or her pencil was going in all conversations. And 
 what she drew she gave to the company. — She used 
 to declare the great assistance she had sometimes 
 found in her devotions by the organs, and anthems 
 well sung to them." 
 
 A MEDITATION. 
 [From the Same, Chap. IX.] 
 
 [Upon his removal from his house in King-Street to his new- 
 built house in Brattle-Street, May, 171 5, he wrote this meditation.] 
 
 " It was a very pleasing and instructive sight once 
 to me in a far distant land, where a person of honor 
 and riches was building a stately house for himself and 
 his family, but at once he took off the work-men to 
 build himself a vault or tomb to be buried in. It 
 becomes us ever to keep in mind, and lay to heart, 
 the remove that we must soon make to our grave. — 
 A convenient house, an easy bed, and agreeable 
 relatives, are among the valuable comforts of this 
 life. When we are building to ourselves pleasant 
 houses to live in, we should all the while be thinking 
 of the darksome house or place, where our bodies 
 will shortly be laid : and when we enter into our 
 new habitations, or after we are settled in them, the 
 same thought must still abide with us. We must not 
 
86 BENJAMIN COLMAN. 
 
 entertain a thought of living long ; and must be willing 
 and ready to go, and to leave our new-built houses 
 as soon as God calls us away. They are only to be 
 used as accommodations for us in the way unto an 
 everlasting habitation and house eternal. — We may 
 not set too much by an house on earth, but ought to 
 raise our affections to things above, &c. — We ought 
 to serve God in our houses. This was Joshua's holy 
 resolution. As for me and my house, we will serve 
 the Lord! And this was David's, Psal. 101. / 
 will walk within my house with a perfect heart, etc. 
 Surely we ought, under the outward smiles of Provi- 
 dence upon us, to be renewing the consecration of 
 ourselves and all that we have to the service of God ; 
 We ought like Abraham, to charge our households and 
 our children after us to keep the way of the Lord. 
 We ought to worship God in secret, in our closets, 
 and we ought every day to pray to, and praise him 
 in our families ; we ought to read his holy word, and 
 meditate on his law, and teach it diligently to our 
 children, and talk of it when we set in our house, 
 when we lay down, &c. Thus we must write as 
 it were upon the posts of our house, and our gates, 
 Deut. 6. 7, 9. — Our houses should be Bethels, little 
 churches for the practice of piety, and the exercises 
 of devotion therein, that the Apostle's salutation may 
 reach us, Rom. 16, 5. Greet the Church in their 
 House. With these and such like meditations, I can 
 truly say, I have been building, and would now enter 
 into my new and pleasant habitation : may they abide 
 and dwell always in my soul that thus I may there 
 dwell the few remaining days of my frail life. 
 
MEMOIRS 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Life and Death 
 
 Of the Pious and Ingenious 
 
 MRS. JANE TURELL 
 
 Who died at Medford, March 26th 
 1735. MteX.. 27. 
 
 Collected chiefly from her own Manuscripts 
 
 By her Consort 
 
 The Rev d Mr. Ebenezer Turell, M.A. 
 
 Pastor of the Church in Medford. 
 
 Her Husband also and He praiseth her. Prov. xxxi,28, 
 
 To which is added, 
 Two SERMONS preached at Med- 
 ford, the Lord's Day after her Funeral, 
 by her Father Benjamin Co/man, D.D. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 Printed for John Oswald, at the Rose and 
 
 Cr-oivn, near the Mansion-House, 1741. 
 
 [Price stitch'd is. bound is. 6d.] 
 
88 BENJAMIN COLMAN. 
 
 THE LIFE OF MRS. JANE TURELL. 
 
 There is a passage in Tully, the Roman orator, 
 to this purpose, M That if virtue were incorporate, and 
 to be seen with our bodily eyes in a substantial form, 
 she would carry such charms along with her as to 
 ravish her beholders, and command the love and 
 admiration of all that saw her." Alike beautiful and 
 engaging (and more so)should the holy life and shin- 
 ing example of the Christian be, to all that are blest 
 with the sight and knowledge of it ; for herein we 
 not only behold the godlike image of it, but learn 
 the practicableness of the thing, and have our natural 
 ambition and imitation mightily fired and excited. 
 
 That my readers may be charmed into a love and 
 admiration of virtue and holiness, I now place before 
 their eyes the picture of my dear deceased ; the lines and 
 lineaments, colors and shades laid and drawn by herown 
 lovely hand, guided by the spirit of grace and truth. 
 
 And I present it particularly and in the first place 
 to her dear and only surviving sister ; and then to 
 her nearest relatives and acquaintance, and to all the 
 rising daughters of New- England, that they mav 
 understand what true beauty is, and what the brightest 
 ornaments of their sex are, and seek them with their 
 whole desire ; Even the bidden man of the heart, 
 in that which is not corruptible, the ornament of a 
 meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight of God of 
 great price. For favor is deceitful, and beauty is 
 vain : but a woman that feareth the Lord, she shall 
 be praised. — And such an one (with some additional 
 excellencies and accomplishments) was Mrs. Jane 
 
LIFE OF MRS. JANE TURELL. 89 
 
 Turell, born in Boston, New-England, Feb. 25. a.d. 
 1708, of parents honorable and religious. 
 
 Her father the Rev. Dr. Benjamin Colman (thro' 
 the gracious favor of God) is still living among us, 
 one universally acknowledged to be even from his 
 younger times (at home and abroad) a bright orna- 
 ment and honor to his country, and an instrument in 
 God's hand of bringing much good to it. 
 
 Her mother Mrs. Jane Colman was a truly gracious 
 woman, daughter of Mr. Thomas Clark, Gentleman. 
 
 Mrs. Turell was their third child, graciously given 
 them after they had mourned the loss of the two 
 former ; and for seven years their only one. Her 
 constitution from her early infancy was wonderful 
 weak and tender, yet the organs of her body so formed 
 as not to obstruct the free operation of the active and 
 capacious spirit within. 
 
 The buddings of reason and religion appeared on 
 her sooner than usual. Before her second year was 
 completed she could speak distinctly, knew her letters, 
 and could relate many stories out of the Scriptures to 
 the satisfaction and pleasure of the most judicious. I 
 have heard that Governor Dudley, with other wise 
 and polite gentlemen, have placed her on a table, 
 and sitting round it, owned themselves diverted with 
 her stories. Before she was four years old (so strong 
 and tenacious was her memory), she could say the 
 greater part of the Assembly's Catechism, many of 
 the Psalms, some hundred lines of the best poetry, 
 read distinctly, and make pertinent remarks on many 
 things she read. 
 
 She grew in knowledge (the most useful) day by 
 day, and had the fear of God before her eyes. 
 
90 BENJAMIN COLMAN. 
 
 She prayed to God sometimes by excellent forms 
 (recommended to her by her father and suited to her 
 age and circumstances) and at other times ex corde, 
 the spirit of God helping her infirmities. When her 
 father, upon a time enquired of her what words she 
 used in prayer to God, she answered him, that when 
 she was upon her knees God gave her expressions. 
 
 Even at the age of four, five, and six she asked 
 many astonishing questions about divine mysteries, 
 and carefully laid up and hid the answers she received 
 to them in her heart. 
 
 Throughout her childhood she discovered a very 
 serious spirit. Her heart was tender, and her con- 
 science a well-informed faithful guide and monitor. 
 
 The most that I am able to collect of her life from 
 six to ten is general (and from her), viz., that her 
 father daily instructed her, and enriched her mind 
 with the best knowledge ; and excited her to the 
 due performance of all duty. And that her tender, 
 gracious mother (who died about four years before 
 her) often prayed for, and over her, and gave her 
 the wisest counsels, and most faithful warnings ; and 
 that she was thankful and grew in knowledge and (she 
 hoped) in grace under them. That she loved the 
 school and the exercises of it, and made a laudable 
 progress in the various kinds of learning proper to 
 her age and sex. 
 
 At nine or ten (if not before) she was able to 
 write; for in the year 1 7 1 8, I find a letter of her 
 honored father's to her, wrote in answer to one of 
 hers, dated Brookline — which he expresses himself 
 well pleased with. A copy of it follows : 
 
LIFE OF MRS. JANE TURELL. 9 1 
 
 Boston, Aug. 4th, 171 8. 
 " My dear Child, 
 
 " I have this morning your letter, which pleases 
 me very well, and gives me hopes of many a pleasant 
 line from you in time to come ; if God spare you to 
 me, and me to you. 
 
 " I very much long to see your mother, but doubt 
 whether the weather will permit me to-day. I pray 
 God to bless you and make you one of his children. 
 1 charge you to pray daily, and read your Bible, and fear 
 to sin. Be very dutiful to your mother and respect- 
 ful to everybody. Be very humble and modest, 
 womanly and discreet. Take care of your health, 
 and as you love me do not eat green apples. Drink 
 sparingly of the waters, except the day be warm. 
 When I last saw you, you were too shame-faced ; 
 look people in the face, speak freely and behave de- 
 cently. I hope to bring Nabby in her grandfather's 
 chariot to see you. The meanwhile J kiss your dear 
 mother, and commend her health to the gracious care 
 of God, and you with her to his grace. Give my 
 
 service to Mr. A and family : also to Mr. S 
 
 and madame ; and be sure you never forget the respect 
 they have honored you with. 
 
 " Your loving Father." 
 
 In this her eleventh year I find an hymn fairly 
 written by her, dated January 4, 171 8, which I give 
 you verbatim : 
 
 I fear the great Eternal One above, 
 The God of Grace, the God of Love : 
 He to whom seraphims hallelujahs sing, 
 And angels do their songs and praises bring. 
 
92 BENJAMIN COLMAN. 
 
 Happy the soul that does in heaven rest, 
 Where with his Saviour he is ever blest ; 
 With heavenly joys and rapture is possest, 
 No thoughts but of his God inspire his breast. 
 Happy are they that walk in wisdom's ways, 
 That tread her paths, and shine in all her rays. 
 
 Her father was pleased to encourage her in this 
 feeble essay she made at verse : he condescended to 
 return her rhymes like her own, level to her present 
 capacity, with a special aim to keep and fix her mind 
 on God and heavenly things, with which she had 
 begun. [A poem addressed to her by her father is 
 here inserted.] 
 
 These condescensions of her father were no doubt 
 of great use to her, and had in some measure the 
 effect proposed, to put her on thinking and writing 
 more and better, and to gain more of his esteem for 
 ingenuity and piety, which she was wisely ambitious 
 of; but above all to approve her heart before God, 
 her Heavenly Father who sees in secret. . . . 
 
 Various Juvenile " Composures." 
 
 Between these and her eighteenth year there are 
 to be seen among her composures many things con- 
 siderable both in verse and prose. 
 
 In poetry (among others), there are the following : 
 
 '< To her honored father, on his being chosen 
 President of Harvard College," a poem of thirty 
 lines, dated December 27, 1724, which begins thus : 
 
 Sir, 
 
 An infant muse begs leave beneath your feet, 
 
 To lay the first essays of her poetic wit ; 
 
LIFE OF MRS. JANE TURELL. 93 
 
 That under your protection she may raise 
 Her song to some exalted pitch of praise, 
 You who among the bards are found the chief, etc. 
 
 But I am not allowed to insert the other lines, and 
 but a small part of the next poem to her friend, on her 
 return to Boston, which begins after this manner : 
 
 Thrice welcome home, thou glory of our isle, 
 On whom indulgent heaven delights to smile ; 
 Whose face the graces make their chosen seat, 
 In whom the charms of wit and beauty meet. 
 O, with what wond'ring eyes I on you gaze, 
 And can't recover from the sweet amaze ! 
 This lovely form, those sweet but sparkling eyes 
 Have made the noble Polydore their prize, etc. 
 
 On Reading the Warning by Mrs. Singer. 
 
 Surprised I view, wrote by a female pen, 
 
 Such a grave warning to the sons of men. 
 
 Bold was the attempt and worthy of your lays, 
 
 To strike at vice, and sinking virtue raise. 
 
 Each noble line a pleasing terror gives, 
 
 A secret force in every sentence lives. 
 
 Inspired by virtue you could safely stand 
 
 The fair reprover of a guilty land. 
 
 You vie with the famed prophetess of old, 
 
 Burn with her fire, in the same cause grow bold. 
 
 Dauntless you undertake th' unequal strife, 
 
 And raise dead virtue by your verse to life. 
 
 A woman's pen strikes the cursed serpent's head, 
 
 And lays the monster gasping, if not dead. 
 
 To my Muse, December 29, 1752. 
 
 Come, gentle muse, and once more lend thine aid, 
 
 O bring thy succor to a humble maid ! 
 
 How often dost thou liberally dispense 
 
 To our dull breast thy quick' ning influence ! 
 
94 BENJAMIN COLMAN. 
 
 By thee inspired, I'll cheerful tune my voice, 
 
 And love and sacred friendship make my choice. 
 
 In my pleased bosom you can freely pour 
 
 A greater treasure than Jove's golden shower. 
 
 Come now, fair muse, and fill my empty mind, 
 
 With rich ideas, great and unconfined. 
 
 Instruct me in those secret arts that lie 
 
 Unseen to all but to a poet's eye. 
 
 O let me burn with Sappho's noble fire, 
 
 But not like her for faithless man expire. 
 
 And let me rival great Orinda's fame, 
 
 Or like sweet Philomela's be my name. 
 
 Go lead the way, my muse, nor must you stop, 
 
 'Till we have gained Parnassus' shady top : 
 
 'Till I have viewed those fragrant soft retreats, 
 
 Those fields of bliss, the muses' sacred seats. 
 
 I'll then devote thee to fair virtue's fame, 
 
 And so be worthy of a poet's name. 
 
 These were the early essays of her youth at poetry, 
 in which it must be freely owned that as there are many 
 things good and ingenious, so there is a great deal low 
 and juvenile ; which the candid understanding reader 
 will be ready to excuse, from that common rule of 
 a child's speaking and writing as a child. At the same 
 time, the turn of the mind here evident to God and 
 religion, is what the pious will esteem and praise, and 
 it is to be wished that children may be taken herewith 
 and drawn to imitate. It is enough (as her honored 
 father elegantly expressed it to me) if they may 
 be accepted as a green offering of first-fruits brought 
 to the door of the Sanctuary, the promising earnest 
 of a future harvest ; at least, as the first lisping of the 
 tongue at words is a pleasing music to the ear of the 
 mother, and the first efforts of the mind at reasoning 
 delightful to a father, so are the first risings of a natural 
 genius unto a wise observer. 
 
LIFE OF MRS. JANE TURELL. 95 
 
 In prose there are also many things : 
 
 Some essay to write her own life, which begins 
 with thanksgivings to God for distinguishing her from 
 most in the world by the blessings of nature, Provi- 
 dence, and grace which she specifies and enumerates 
 in the following manner : 
 
 ( 1 ) I thank God for my immortal soul, and that 
 reason and understanding which distinguishes me from 
 the lower creatures. 
 
 (2) For my birth in a Christian country, in a land 
 of light, where the true God and Jesus Christ are 
 known. 
 
 (3) For pious and honorable parents, whereby I 
 am favored beyond many others. 
 
 (4) For faithful and godly ministers, who are from 
 time to time shewing me the way of salvation. 
 
 (5) For a polite as well as Christian education. 
 
 (6) For restraining grace, that I have been with- 
 held from more open and gross violations of God's 
 holy law. 
 
 Her thoughts on matrimony, with the rules whereby 
 she resolved to guide herself in that important affair 
 of life. 
 
 She writes of the wisdom and goodness of God in 
 making man a sociable creature ; of the institution of 
 marriage in paradisaical state, and the happiness of the 
 first couple ; and what alone will render persons happy 
 in our fallen state ; namely, a faithful discharge of all 
 the duties of that relation ; and then particularizes the 
 duties, and treats of the mischiefs that follow upon the 
 neglect of them ; shows at large what their duty is 
 
96 BENJAMIN COLMAN. 
 
 who are about to enter into that state, namely, to 
 seek to God by humble prayer for his direction and 
 conduct, and that he would overrule all the circum- 
 stances of that momentous affair in mercy, on which 
 so much of the comfort and pleasure of life depends. 
 — She carries her thoughts to the afflictions and 
 temptations of that condition, and prays for sufficient 
 grace to carry aright under all. And for her assist- 
 ance in making a right choice she laid down a num- 
 ber of rules, from which she resolves never to start. 
 Some of them are the following : 
 
 (i) "I would admit the addresses of no person 
 who is not descended of pious and credible parents. 
 
 (2) '« Who has not the character of a strict moral- 
 ist, sober, temperate, just and honest. 
 
 (3) f* Diligent in his business, and prudent in 
 matters. 
 
 (4) " Fixed in his religion, a constant attender on 
 the public worship, and who appears not in God's 
 house with the gravity becoming a Christian. 
 
 (5) " Of a sweet and agreeable temper ; for if he 
 be owner of all the former good qualifications, and 
 fails here, my life will be still uncomfortable." 
 
 3. Many letters to her honored father on various 
 occasions. 
 
 I shall only present you with one dated June 1 ith, 
 
 1725. 
 
 U Honored Sir, 
 
 '* I return you many thanks for your kind 
 letters to me, which I read with vast delight and 
 reverence, as who would not such good and tender 
 
LIFE OF MRS. JANE TURELL. 97 
 
 lines from the best of fathers, who has spared 
 no cost nor pains in my education. It is no small 
 grief to me that I answer them no better, that I have 
 so little of his soul in me, from whom I descend. I 
 heartily embrace the offer you condescend to make 
 of conversing by letter, by which I shall not only 
 learn to write good sense, but also be instructed how 
 to behave myself in all the changes and conditions of 
 life, as becomes a Christian ; not to be too elated in 
 prosperity, nor sunk under adversity, but ever re- 
 signed to the will of God in all things. I beg your 
 prayers for me that, as I grow in years, I may grow 
 in grace, and persevere therein. I pray you to for- 
 give the many faults in my present writing, and sub- 
 scribe myself with all humility, 
 
 "Your dutiful and obedient Daughter!" 
 
 Before she had seen eighteen, she had read, and 
 (in some measure) digested all the English poetry and 
 polite pieces in prose, printed and manuscripts, in her 
 father's well furnished library, and much she borrowed 
 of her friends and acquaintance. She had indeed such 
 a thirst after knowledge that the leisure of the day did 
 not suffice, but she spent whole nights in reading. 
 
 I find she was sometimes fired with a laudable am- 
 bition of raising the honor of her sex, who are there- 
 fore under obligations to her ; and all will be ready 
 to own she had a fine genius, and is to be placed 
 among those who have excelled. 
 
 When I was first inclined (by the motions of God's 
 providence and spirit) to seek her acquaintance (which 
 was about the time she entered in her nineteenth year) 
 I was surprised and charmed to find her so accom- 
 
98 BENJAMIN COLMAN. 
 
 plished. I found her in a good measure mistress of 
 the politest writers and their works ; could point out 
 the beauties in them, and had made many of their 
 best thoughts her own : And as she went into more 
 free conversation, she discoursed how admirably on 
 many subjects ! 
 
 I grew by degrees into such an opinion of her good 
 taste, that when she put me upon translating a psalm or 
 two, I was ready to excuse myself, and if I had not 
 feared to displease her should have denied her request. 
 
 After her marriage, which was on August 1 1 th, 
 1726, her custom was, once in a month or two, to 
 make some new essay in verse or prose, and to read 
 from day to day as much as a faithful discharge of the 
 duties of her new condition gave leisure for : and I 
 think I may with truth say that she made the writing 
 of poetry a recreation and not a business. 
 
 What greatly contributed to increase her knowledge 
 in divinity, history, physic, controversy, as well as 
 poetry, was her attentive hearing most that I read 
 upon those heads through the long evenings of the 
 winters as we sat together. 
 
 Some of the many remarkable things she wrote in 
 her marriage state are the following ; some in verse, 
 and more in prose. 
 
 November 1st, 1 7 3 1 . She sent her father the 
 following letter, with an encomium on Sir Richard 
 Blackmore's Poetical Works. She knew it would be 
 pleasing enough to her father, to hear her sing in praise 
 of Sir Richard, of whom she always heard him speak 
 with great esteem ; not as the first of poets, but as one 
 of the best ; consecrating his muse to the cause of vir- 
 tue and religion, with a most noble aim to inspire the 
 
LIFE OF MRS. JANE TURELL. 99 
 
 princes and nobles of the nation, with the true senti- 
 ments of glory and usefulness ; than which nothing 
 could be more worthy of a Christian poet and an Eng- 
 lish patriot. And as such he is celebrated in the fol- 
 lowing poem : 
 
 %■ * ^ » ^ %. 
 
 On the Poems of Sir Richard Blackmore. 
 
 Blackmore, thou wondrous Bard ! whose name inspires 
 
 My glowing breast to imitate thy fires. 
 
 O that my muse could give a lasting fame ! 
 
 Then should my verse immortalize thy name. 
 
 Thy matchless lines thy inborn worth displays, 
 
 Inspires our souls, and fills our mouths with praise. 
 
 Thou for Mankind's preceptor Heaven design'd, 
 
 To form their manners, and instruct their mind. 
 
 In virtue's cause undaunted you engage, 
 
 To stem the tide of vice, reform the stage, 
 
 And place the present with the Golden Age. 
 
 * * * * # 
 
 O happy land ! and of unrivaled fame, 
 That claims thy birth, and boasts so great a name ! 
 Albion alone is blest with such a son, 
 A birth to ages past, and thee, O Greece, unknown. 
 
 When she had read Mr. Waller's poems, it ap- 
 pears that she was struck with the pleasing admiration 
 of him also ; as for the beauty of his thoughts, so 
 more especially for the purity of his style and delicacy 
 of language. It was he that taught us the simplicity 
 and easiness of expression, which has ever since been 
 the character of our best writers. 
 
 On the Incomparable Mr. Waller. 
 
 Hail, chaste Urania ! thy assistance bring, 
 And fire my breast while I attempt to sing, 
 In artless lays, Waller, the poets' king. 
 
100 BENJAMIN COLMAN. 
 
 Waller, the tuneful name my soul inspires, 
 And kindles in my breast poetic fires. 
 
 Hail, mighty genius ! Favorite of the nine ! 
 Thy merits in four reigns distinguished shine. 
 Country and court, alternate, you enjoy, 
 One claims thy nobler thoughts, and one thy muse employ, 
 
 Chaste is thy muse, and lofty is her song, 
 Softer than Ovid and like Virgil strong. 
 Much thee thy country, more its language owe, 
 All that adorns it, it received from you. 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 A tender passion every bosom warms, 
 Whene'er you sing of Sacharissa's charms, 
 O lovely maid ! mild as the morning light, 
 When first its beams salute our longing sight. 
 As virgin fountains in their basins roll, 
 So calm, so bright is Sacharissa's soul. 
 As the fierce sun, by his meridian rays, 
 Exhales the moisture from this lower earth ; 
 Again at night by dews the fields repays, 
 That nature labors with a double birth : 
 So you engross in your capacious soul 
 All that the world polite and learned call ; 
 But in your works you do repay the whole, 
 With large additions of your own to all. 
 O happy isle that bare a son so bright, 
 Of whom the ages since have learned to write. 
 
 Her Character. 
 
 Some unhappy affairs at Medford in the years 1729 
 and '30, produced many prayers and tears from her, 
 with the following poem in imitation of the 133 
 
LIFE OF MRS. JANE TURELL. 1 01 
 
 psalm, which I publish as a monument for and motive 
 to my own people, to continue in love and peace : 
 
 Behold how good, how sweet, their joy does prove, 
 
 Where brethren dwell in unity and love ! 
 
 When no contention, strife or fatal jar 
 
 Disturb the peace and raise the noisy war. 
 
 'Tis like the ointment, which of old was poured 
 
 On Aaron's head, and down his garments showered; 
 
 Through all the air perfuming odor spreads, 
 
 Diffusing sweetness to the neighboring meads. 
 
 Or like the dew on Hermon's lofty head 
 
 Which on the mounts of Zion moisture spread. 
 
 'Circled with peace, they shall within the land 
 
 As shining patterns, and examples stand. 
 
 If sinners wrangle, let the saints agree ; 
 
 The gospel breathes out naught but unity. 
 
 To such the blessing from the Lord is given, 
 
 Even life eternal, in the highest heaven. 
 
 Having related these things, you will not wonder 
 if I now declare myself a witness of her daily close 
 walk with God during her married state, and of her 
 retirements for reading, self-examination and devotion. 
 
 It was her practice to read the Bible out in course 
 once a year, the book of Psalms much oftener, besides 
 many chapters and a multitude of verses which she 
 kept turned down in a Bible, which she had been the 
 owner and reader of more than twenty years. If I 
 should only present my readers with a catalogue of 
 these texts, I doubt not but that they would admire 
 the collection, be gratified with the entertainment, 
 and easily conjecture many of her holy frames and 
 tempers from them. I must own, considering her 
 tender make and often infirmities she exceeded in de- 
 votion. And I have thought myself obliged some- 
 times (in compassion to her) to call her off, and put 
 
102 BENJAMIN COLMAN. 
 
 her in mind of God's delighting in mercy more than 
 in sacrifice. 
 
 How often has she lain whole nights by me mourn- 
 ing for sin, calling upon God, and praising him, or 
 discoursing of Christ and heaven ! And when under 
 doubts entreating me to help her (as far as I could) 
 to a full assurance of God's love. Sometimes she 
 would say, " Well, I am content if you will show 
 me that I have the truth of grace." And I often 
 satisfied her with one of Mr. Baxter's marks of love 
 to Christ, namely, lamenting and pant big after him ; 
 for this kind of love she was sure she exercised in the 
 most cloudy hours of her life. 
 
 I may not forget to mention the strong and con- 
 stant guard she placed on the door of her lips. Who 
 ever heard her call an ill name ? or detract from 
 anybody ? When she apprehended she received 
 injuries, silence and tears were her highest resentments. 
 But I have often heard her reprove others for rash 
 and angry speeches. 
 
 In every relation she sustained, she was truly ex- 
 emplary, sensible how much of the life and power of 
 religion consists in the conscientious practice and per- 
 formance of relative duties. 
 
 No child had a greater love to and reverence for her 
 parents ; she even exceeded in fear and reverence of 
 her father, notwithstanding all his condescensions to 
 her, and vast freedoms with her. 
 . As a wife she was dutiful, prudent and diligent, 
 not only content but joyful in her circumstances. 
 She submitted as is fit in the Lord, looked well to the 
 ways of her household t and her own works praise her 
 in the gates. 
 
LIFE OF MRS. JANE TURELL. 103 
 
 Her very apparel discovered modesty and chastity. 
 She loved to appear neat and clean, but never gay 
 and fine. 
 
 To her servants she was good and kind, and took 
 care of them, especially of the soul of a slave who 
 died (in the house) about a month before her. 
 
 She respected all her friends and relatives, and 
 spake of them with honor, and never forgot either 
 their counsels or their kindnesses. 
 
 She often spake of her obligations to her Aunt 
 Staniford, which were great living and dying. 
 
 She honored all men and loved everybody. *< Love 
 and goodness was natural to her," as her father ex- 
 presses it in a letter years ago. 
 
 Her tender love to her only sister, has been already 
 seen ; and was on all occasions manifested, and grew 
 exceedingly to her death. A few days before it, I 
 heard her speak to her particularly of preparing for 
 another world. " Improve (said she) the time of 
 health, 'tis the only time for doing the great work 
 in." 
 
 And in return for her love and amiable carriage, 
 she had the love and esteem of all that knew her. 
 Those that knew her best loved her best, and praise 
 her most. 
 
 Her humility was so great, that she could well 
 bear (without being elated) such praises as are often 
 found in her father's letters to us, viz : — 
 
 " I greatly esteem as well as highly love you. The 
 best of children deserves all that a child can of a 
 father. My soul rejoices in you. My joy, my 
 crown. I give thanks to God for you daily. I am 
 honored in being the father of such a daughter." 
 
104 BENJAMIN COLMAN. 
 
 Her husband also, and he praiseth her as a meet help 
 both in spirituals and temporals. 
 
 Her relations and acquaintance ever manifested the 
 highest value for her. 
 
 The people, among whom she lived the last eight 
 years of her life, both old anU young, had a love and 
 veneration for her, as a person of the strictest virtue 
 and undefiled religion. Her innocence, modesty, 
 ingenuity, and devotion charmed all into an admiration 
 of her. And I question whether there has been more 
 grief and sorrow shown at the death of any private 
 person, by people of all ranks, to whom her virtues 
 were known ; mourning, for the loss sustained by 
 ourselves, not for her, nor as others who have no 
 hope. For it is beyond doubt that she died in the 
 Lord, and is blessed. 
 
 The death of every such praying Saint is a frown 
 upon the whole land, and calls upon us to make that 
 prayer, Psal. XII. I. Help, Lord, for the godly 
 cease and the faithful fail from among the children of 
 
JOHN SECCOMB. 
 
 John Seccomb, who has won an unenviable immor- 
 tality as a writer of doggerel, was born in Medford, 
 Massachusetts, in 1708, and died in 1793 in Chester, 
 Nova Scotia, whither he had gone in 1 763 to be min- 
 ister to a Dissenting congregation. He was graduated 
 from Harvard College in 1728, and from 1733 to 1757 
 ministered to the Congregational Church in the town 
 of Harvard, Massachusetts. He achieved great noto- 
 riety, while still connected with his Alma Mater, by 
 his Father Abbetf s Will, & coarsely humorous poem, 
 the subject of which was Matthew Abdy, who held 
 some menial position in connection with the College. 
 This effusion for some inexplicable reason so pleased 
 Governor Belcher that he sent it to England, where it 
 was printed in The Gentleman* s Magazine for 1732 
 and in The London Magazine of the same year. 
 Perhaps not a little of the subsequent British depre- 
 ciation of American literature was due to the belief 
 that Seccomb' s doggerel fairly represented the latter. 
 Fortunately Seccomb, after writing a companion skit, 
 lapsed into comparative silence when he had won his 
 laurels. His poem (j/V) is given here for illustrative 
 purposes only. Those who wish to know more about 
 it maybe referred to the edition of 1854, undertaken 
 by the antiquarian John Langdon Sibley, well-known 
 as the Librarian of Harvard, and a devoted student of 
 its annals. 
 
 105 
 
106 JOHN SECCOMB. 
 
 FATHER ABBEY'S WILL. 
 
 Cambridge, December, 1730. 
 Some time since died here, Mr. Matthew Abbey, in a very 
 advanced age : He had for a great number of years served the 
 College in quality of Bedmaker and Sweeper : Having no child, 
 his wife inherits his whole estate which he bequeathed to her by 
 his last will and testament, as follows, viz. : — 
 
 To my dear wife, 
 
 My joy and life 
 I freely now do give her 
 
 My whole estate, 
 
 With all my plate, 
 Being just about to leave her. 
 
 My tub of soap, 
 
 A long cart rope, 
 A frying pan and kettle, 
 
 An ashes pail, 
 
 A threshing flail, 
 An iron wedge and beetle. 
 
 Two painted chairs, 
 
 Nine warden pears, 
 A large old dripping platter, 
 
 This bed of hay, 
 
 On which I lay, 
 An old sauce pan for butter. 
 
 A little mug, 
 A two-quart jug, 
 A bottle full of brandy, 
 
FATHER ABBEY'S WILL. 107 
 
 A looking-glass, 
 To see your face 
 You'll find it very handy. 
 
 A musket true 
 
 As ever flew, 
 A pound of shot and wallet, 
 
 A leather sash, 
 
 My calabash, 
 My powder horn and bullet. 
 
 An old sword blade, 
 
 A garden spade, 
 A hoe, a rake, a ladder, 
 
 A wooden can, 
 
 A close-stool pan, 
 A clyster-pipe and bladder. 
 
 A greasy hat, 
 
 My old ram cat, 
 A yard and half of linen, 
 
 A woollen fleece, 
 
 A pot of grease, 
 In order for your spinning. 
 
 A small tooth comb, 
 
 An ashen broom, 
 A candlestick and hatchet, 
 
 A coverlid 
 
 Striped down with red, 
 A bag of rags to patch it. 
 
108 JOHN SECCOMB. 
 
 A ragged mat, 
 
 A tub of fat, 
 A book put out by Bunyan, 
 
 Another book 
 
 By Robin Cook, 
 A skein or two of spunyarn. 
 
 An old black muff, 
 Some garden stuff, 
 
 A quantity of borage, 
 Some devil's weed 
 And burdock seed, 
 
 To season well your porridge. 
 
 A chafing dish, 
 With one salt fish, 
 
 If I am not mistaken, 
 A leg of pork, 
 A broken fork, 
 
 And half a flitch of bacon. 
 
 A spinning wheel, 
 
 One peck of meal, 
 A knife without a handle, 
 
 A rusty lamp, 
 
 Two quarts of samp, 
 And half a tallow candle. 
 
 My pouch and pipes, 
 Two oxen tripes, 
 An oaken dish well carved, 
 
FATHER ABBEY'S WILL. IO9 
 
 My little dog 
 And spotted hog, 
 With two young pigs just starved. 
 
 This is my store, 
 
 I have no more, 
 I heartily do give it, 
 
 My years are spun, 
 
 My days are done, 
 And so I think to leave it. 
 
 Thus Father Abbey left his spouse, 
 As rich as church or college mouse, 
 Which is sufficient invitation 
 To serve the college in his station. 
 
PATRICK TAILFER. 
 
 Patrick Tailfer, who appears to deserve the 
 credit, whatever it may be, of being the main author 
 of the remarkable tract soon to be mentioned, 
 seems to have been a physician by profession. The 
 date and place of his birth are uncertain, as is also 
 the exact time of his emigration to Georgia, whence, 
 becoming dissatisfied with the conduct of affairs, he 
 went, in 1 740, to Charleston, South Carolina. 
 There he printed in the following year, with the 
 cooperation of Hugh Anderson, David Douglas, and 
 others, A True and Historical Narrative of the Col- 
 ony of Georgia in America from the First Settlement 
 thereof until the Present Period. This masterpiece of 
 irony was reprinted the same year in London, and can 
 be found by the curious in Force's Historical Tracts. 
 It is a bitter accusation of selfishness, greed, and despot- 
 ism brought against General Oglethorpe, whom even 
 Pope had praised, as merciless as it is contemptuously 
 polite and coolly mordant. It is perhaps the most 
 finished product of colonial polemics, though it is 
 certainly malicious, and probably unjust in most par- 
 ticulars. 
 
AN IRONICAL DEDICATION. Ill 
 
 AN IRONICAL DEDICATION. 
 
 [From " A True and Historical Narrative of 
 
 the Colony of Georgia," etc. Charleston, 
 
 S.C, 1741.] 
 
 To His Excellency 
 
 JAMES OGLETHORPE, ESQ. 
 
 General and Commander in Chief of his Majesty's 
 Forces in South Carolina and Georgia ; and 
 one of the honorable Trustees for establishing the 
 colony of Georgia in America. 
 
 May it please your Excellency, 
 
 As the few surviving remains of the colony of 
 Georgia find it necessary to present the world (and 
 in particular Great Britain) with a true state of that 
 province, from its first rise to its present period, your 
 Excellency (of all mankind) is best entitled to the 
 dedication, as the principal author of its present 
 strength and affluence, freedom and prosperity : and 
 though incontestible truths will recommend the fol- 
 lowing Narrative to the patient and attentive 
 reader, yet your name, Sir, will be no little ornament 
 to the frontispiece, and may possibly engage some 
 courteous perusers a little beyond it. 
 
 That dedication and flattery are synonymous is the 
 complaint of every dedicator who concludes himself 
 ingenuous and fortunate, if he can discover a less 
 trite and direct method of flattering than is usually 
 
112 PATRICK TAILFER. 
 
 practised ; but we are happily prevented from the 
 least intention of this kind by the repeated offerings 
 of the Muses and News-Writers to your Excellency 
 in the public papers. 'Twere presumptuous even to 
 dream of equalling or increasing them ; we therefore 
 flatter ourselves that nothing we can advance will in 
 the least shock your Excellency's modesty, not doubt- 
 ing but your goodness will pardon any deficiency of 
 elegance and politeness on account of our sincerity 
 and the serious truth we have the honor to approach 
 you with. 
 
 We have seen the ancient custom of sending forth 
 colonies, for the improvement of any distant territory 
 or new acquisition, continued down to ourselves ; but 
 to your Excellency alone it is owing that the world 
 is made acquainted with a plan highly refined from 
 all those of former projectors. They fondly imagined 
 it necessary to communicate to such young settle- 
 ments the fullest rights and properties, all the im- 
 munities of their mother countries, and privileges 
 rather more extensive. By such means, indeed, 
 these colonies flourished with early trade and afflu- 
 ence ; but your Excellency's concern for our perpetual 
 welfare could never permit you to propose such transi- 
 tory advantages for us. You considered riches, like 
 a divine philosopher, as the irritamenta malorum 
 and knew that they were disposed to inflate weak 
 minds with pride, to pamper the body with luxury, 
 and introduce a long variety of evils. Thus have you 
 protected us from ourselves, as Mr. Waller says, by 
 keeping all earthly comforts from us. You have 
 afforded us the opportunity of arriving at the integrity 
 of the primitive times by entailing a more than primi- 
 
AN IRONICAL DEDICATION. 113 
 
 tive poverty on us. The toil that is necessary to 
 our bare subsistence most effectually defends us from 
 the anxieties of any further ambition. As we have 
 no properties to feed vain glory and beget contention, 
 so we are not puzzled with any system of laws to 
 ascertain and establish them. The valuable virtue of 
 humility is secured to us by your care to prevent our 
 procuring or so much as seeing any Negroes (the 
 only human creatures proper to improve our soil) lest 
 our simplicity might mistake the poor Africans for 
 greater slaves than ourselves. And that we might 
 fully receive the spiritual benefit of those wholesome 
 austerities, you have wisely denied us the use of such 
 spirituous liquors as might in the least divert our 
 minds from the contemplation of our happy circum- 
 stances. 
 
 Our subject swells upon us, and did we allow our- 
 selves to indulge our inclination, without considering 
 our weak abilities, we should be tempted to launch 
 out into many of your Excellency's extraordinary 
 endowments, which do not so much regard the affair 
 in hand. But, as this would lead us beyond the 
 bounds of a Dedication, so would it engross a subject 
 too extensive for us to the prejudice of other authors 
 and panegyrists. We shall therefore confine ourselves 
 to that remarkable Scene of your Conduct, whereby 
 Great Britain in general, and the Settlers of Georgia 
 in particular, are laid under such inexpressible obliga- 
 tions. 
 
 Be pleased then, Great Sir, To accompany our 
 heated imaginations in taking a view of this colony of 
 Georgia ! This child of your auspicious politics ! 
 arrived at the utmost vigor of its constitution, at a term 
 
114 PATRICK TAILFER. 
 
 when most former states have been struggling through 
 the convulsions of their infancy. This early maturity, 
 however, lessens our admiration that your Excel- 
 lency lives to see (what few founders ever aspire 
 after) the great decline and almost final termination of 
 it. So many have finished their course during the 
 progress of the experiment, and such numbers have 
 retreated from the phantoms of poverty and slavery 
 which their cowardly imaginations pictured to them ; 
 that you may justly vaunt with the boldest hero of 
 
 them all, 
 
 Like death you reign, 
 O'er silent Subjects and a desert Plain. 
 
 — Busiris. 
 
 Yet must your enemies (if you have any) be re- 
 duced to confess, that no ordinary statesman could 
 have digested in the like manner, so capacious a scheme, 
 such a copious jumble of power and politics. We 
 shall content ourselves with observing, that all those 
 beauteous models of government which the little 
 states of Germany exercise, and those extensive 
 liberties which the Boors of Poland enjoy, were 
 designed to concenter in your system ; and were we 
 to regard the modes of government, we must have 
 been strangely unlucky to have missed of the best, 
 where there was the appearance of so great a variety ; 
 for under the influence of our Perpetual Dictator, we 
 have seen something like Aristocracy, Oligarchy, as 
 well as the Triumvirate, Decemvirate and Consular 
 Authority of famous Republics, which have expired 
 many ages before us : What wonder then we share 
 the same fate ? Do their towns and villages exist but 
 in story and rubbish ? We are all over ruins ; our 
 
AN IRONICAL DEDICATION. 115 
 
 public- works, forts, wells, high-ways, light-houses, 
 store and water-mills, &c, are dignified like theirs, 
 with the same venerable desolation. The log-house 
 indeed, is like to be the last forsaken spot of your 
 empire ; yet even this, thro' the death or desertion 
 of those who should continue to inhabit it, must 
 suddenly decay ; the bankrupt jailor himself shall be 
 soon denied the privilege of human conversation ; and 
 when this last moment of the spell expires, the whole 
 shall vanish like the illusion of some Eastern Magician. 
 
 But let not this solitary prospect impress your Excel- 
 lency with any fears of having your services to man- 
 kind, and to the Settlers of Georgia in particular, 
 buried in oblivion ; for if we, diminutive authors, are 
 allowed to prophesy (as you know poets in those 
 cases formerly did) we may confidently presage, that 
 while the memoirs of America continue to be read in 
 English, Spanish, or the language of the Scotch High 
 Landers, your Excellency's exploits and epocha will 
 be transmitted to posterity. 
 
 Should your Excellency apprehend the least tincture 
 of flattery in anything already hinted ; we may sin- 
 cerely assure you, we intended nothing that our senti- 
 ments did not very strictly attribute to your merit ; 
 and in such sentiments, we have the satisfaction of being 
 fortified by all persons of impartiality and discernment. 
 
 But to trespass no longer on those minutes, which 
 your Excellency may suppose more significantly em- 
 ployed on the sequel ; let it suffice at present, to 
 assure you, that we are deeply affected with your 
 favors ; and tho' unable of ourselves properly to 
 acknowlege them, we shall embrace every opportunity 
 of recommending you to higher powers, who (we 
 
Il6 PATRICK TAILFER. 
 
 are hopeful) will reward your Excellency according 
 to your merits. 
 
 May it please your Excellency, 
 Your Excellency's 
 
 Most devoted Servants, 
 The Land-Holders of Georgia, 
 Authors of the Following Narrative. 
 
 THE DICTATORSHIP OF MR. THOMAS 
 CAUSTON, BAILIFF AND STORE-KEEPER. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 As his power increased, so did his pride, haughti- 
 ness and cruelty ; insomuch that he caused eight free- 
 holders with an officer, to attend at the door of the 
 court, every day it sat, with their guns and bayonets, 
 and they were commanded, by his orders, to rest 
 their firelocks as soon as he appeared ; which made 
 people in some manner afraid to speak their minds, 
 or juries to act as their consciences directed them. 
 He was seldom or never uncovered on the bench, 
 not even when an oath was administered ; and being 
 perfectly intoxicated with power and pride, he threat- 
 ened every person without distinction, rich and poor, 
 strangers and inhabitants, who in the least opposed 
 his arbitrary proceedings, or claimed their just rights 
 and privileges, with the stocks, whipping-post and 
 log-house, and many times put those threatenings 
 in execution ; so that the Georgia stocks, whipping- 
 post and log-house, soon were famous in Carolina, 
 and everywhere else in America, where the name 
 
DICTATORSHIP OF MR. CAUSTON. 117 
 
 of the province was heard of, and the very thoughts 
 of coming to the colony became a terror to people's 
 minds. And now the Province of Carolina, who 
 had, in private and public donations, given upwards 
 of 1 300 1. sterling, seeing these things, and how the 
 public money was thrown away, began to despise 
 the colony, and out of a regard to the welfare of 
 their fellow-creatures, persuaded everybody they 
 could from settling in it. That this absolute power 
 might be exercised without the least interruption, 
 the other magistrates were such, that they either 
 were unable or incapable to oppose it. It's true, 
 in December 1734, Mr. Causton met with a little 
 interruption ; for the Trustees then sent over to 
 Savannah one Mr. Gordon, as chief magistrate, who 
 being a person of a very winning behavior, affable 
 and fluent in speech, soon got the good-will of every- 
 body, and a great many of the people laid their 
 grievances and hardships open to him, which seemed 
 a little to eclipse Mr. Causton ; but he soon found 
 out an expedient to remove this adversary, viz. by 
 refusing him provisions from the store, which in a 
 little time rendered him incapable to support himself 
 and family, whereby he was obliged, after about 
 six weeks stay, to leave the place, in order, as he 
 said, to represent our grievances to the Trustees, and 
 soon after returned to London ; but he did not per- 
 form his promise, for what reason we sha'n't pretend 
 to determine ; and some time thereafter he either 
 resigned or was dismissed from his office of first 
 bailiff, and Mr. Causton was appointed in his stead. 
 As to Mr. Henry Parker, who was appointed third 
 bailiff when Mr. Gordon came over, he was, in 
 
Il8 PATRICK TAILFER. 
 
 the first place, a man who had nothing to support 
 himself and large family but his day-labor, which 
 was sawing, and consequently as soon as his time 
 was otherwise employed, he must be entirely depend- 
 ent on the store for his subsistence : In the second 
 place, he was a man of no education ; so that Mr. 
 Causton soon moulded him to his own liking, and 
 infused into him what notions he pleased : Thirdly, 
 he was and is an absolute slave to liquor, and he 
 who plies him most with it (which Causton always 
 took care to do, and whose example has been since 
 followed by his successor Jones) has him, right or 
 wrong, on his side. As to Mr. Christie, the Re- 
 corder, he was easily over-ruled by the other two ; 
 and the same practice was always continued ; for he 
 who was appointed third bailiff after Gordon's dis- 
 mission or resignation, was one Darn, nigh seventy 
 years of age, crazed both in body and mind, who 
 died not long after his appointment ; and his successor 
 R. Gilbert, could neither read nor write; so that Causton 
 had never after Gordon's departure, any opposition made 
 by the other magistrates to his arbitrary proceedings. 
 If we should allow ourselves to enter into a detail of 
 the particular instances of such proceedings, we should 
 exceed much our proposed bounds : We shall there- 
 fore confine ourselves to two only, which may serve 
 as a specimen of the many others. ONE is, that 
 of Capt. Joseph Watson : This person having in- 
 curred Mr. Causton' s displeasure, was indicted for 
 stirring up animosities in the minds of the Indians, 
 &c. tending to the ruin and subversion of the colony. 
 Upon his trial, the jury in their verdict, found him 
 only guilty of some unguarded expressions, (altho' 
 
DICTATORSHIP OF MR. CAUSTON. 119 
 
 twice returned and hectored by Mr. Causton, who 
 acted both as witness and judge in the matter) and 
 verbally recommended him by their fore-man to the 
 mercy of the court, imagining or supposing he might 
 be lunatic ; (however, as it afterwards appeared, it 
 was represented to the Trustees that the jury found 
 him guilty of lunacy in their verdict) whereupon 
 he was immediately confined by Mr. Causton, (altho' 
 sufficient bail was offered) and kept prisoner near 
 three years, without any sentence. But, as we are 
 informed this affair now lies before a proper judicature, 
 we shall say no more of it. 
 
 The other instance is that of Mr. Odingsell, who 
 was an inhabitant of Carolina, and had been a great 
 benefactor to the infant colony of Georgia, having 
 given several head of cattle and other valuable con- 
 tributions, towards the promoting it. This person 
 having come to Savannah to see how the colony suc- 
 ceeded, after he had been there a few days, being 
 abroad sometime after it was night, as he was going 
 to his lodgings was taken up in the street for a 
 stroller, carried to the guard-house, and threatened 
 with the stocks and whipping-post ; the terror and 
 fright of which (he being a mild and peaceable man) 
 threw him into a high fever with a strong delirium, 
 crying out to every person who came near him, 
 that they were come to carry him to the whipping-post; 
 and after lying two or three days in this distracted 
 condition, he was carried aboard his boat in order 
 to be sent home, and died in the way somewhere 
 about Dawfuskee Sound. 
 
THOMAS PRINCE. 
 
 Thomas Prince, one of the most learned and ac- 
 curate of colonial historians, was born in Sandwich, 
 Massachusetts, May 15, 1687, and died in Boston, 
 October 22, 1758. After his graduation at Har- 
 vard in the class of 1707, he visited the West Indies, 
 Madeira, and England, remaining in the mother coun- 
 try from 1709 to 17 1 7, doing occasional preaching. 
 On his return to Boston he was ordained co-pastor 
 of the Old South Church, and was connected with 
 that congregation till his death. He attained consid- 
 erable eminence as a preacher, but still more as a 
 scholar. Already, while in college, he had begun 
 to collect historical colonial manuscripts and the writ- 
 ings of New England divines. These collections, 
 the basis of his own most important book, were de- 
 posited in the Old South Church, and destroyed in 
 part by fire in 1775. What remains may be con- 
 sulted in the Boston Public Library. It is needless 
 to give a complete list of his numerous publications, 
 which consist of many sermons, some editions of his- 
 torical tracts, notes on earthquakes and other phe- 
 nomena of nature, and his Chronological History of 
 New England — a laborious compilation of great 
 value, the first volume of which was issued in 1736, 
 but was not warmly enough received to encourage 
 its author to continue the work until nearly twenty 
 
THE ANNALS OF NEW ENGLAND. 121 
 
 years had elapsed. Then only three instalments of 
 the second volume were published. Scholars have 
 found these annals very valuable, and have wished 
 that Prince and his contemporary, Stith, could have 
 brought their work down to their own times. 
 
 ITEMS FROM THE CONTINUATION OF 
 
 THE ANNALS OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 1755. 
 
 Advertisement. 
 
 Having brought our Annals of New-England down 
 to the Settlement of the Massachusetts Colony, in 
 the istvolumn; and having lately received a most 
 authentic and valuable Journal of Events relating to 
 said colony, — from the time when their 1st Gov. 
 Winthrop, Dep. Gov. Dudley, eleven Assistants, 
 with their Charter, four ministers, & about 1 500 
 people were waiting at the Isle of Wight & other 
 places in the South and West of England, to sail for 
 this desired land ; viz. from Monday, March 29. 
 1630, to Jan. 11. 1648, 9: Wherein are many 
 remarkables not to be found any where else ; and 
 whereby alone we are enabled to correct many mis- 
 takes and ascertain the dates of many articles in others : 
 — all wrote with the said Gov. Winthrop's own 
 hand, who deceased in the very house I dwell in, 
 the 26th of March after : I may now proceed with 
 a further enlargement of intelligence, and with a 
 greater certainty and exactness. 
 
 And for my readers' greater satisfaction I shall also 
 go on, as I did before, to give them, not my own 
 
122 THOMAS PRINCE. 
 
 expressions, but those of the authors who lived in 
 the times they wrote of; excepting now and then a 
 word or note of mine for explanation sake, distin- 
 guished from theirs by being enclosed in such marks 
 as [These] . So that we may as it were hear 
 those eminent persons, Gov. Bradford, Gov. Wins- 
 low, Gov. Winthrop, Mr. Secretary Morton of Ply- 
 mouth ; Gov. Bradstreet, Mr. Secretary Nowell, &c. 
 in the Massachusetts Colony records ; the Rev. Mr. 
 Hubbard, and others, telling us the remarkable events 
 of the times they lived in. 
 
 But as I was unhappily obliged to close the former 
 volumn abruptly in September 1630, about 2 months 
 after our entering the 2d Section of the iid Part ; I 
 must refer to that, and begin the iid Volumn with 
 September 28, in continuation of the 
 
 2D Section 
 
 Containing Articles from the begining of the Set- 
 tlement of the Massachusetts or 2d Colony, to the 
 Settlement of the 7th and last, by the combination 
 of 41 persons into a form of Government at Pisca- 
 taqua, on Oct. 22. 1640, afterwards called the 
 Province of New-Hampshire. 
 
 [Oct. 1630.] The first execution in Plymouth 
 Colony : which is a matter of great sadness to us, 
 is of one John Billington ; for waylaying and shoot- 
 ing John Newcomen, a young man, in the shoulder, 
 whereof he died. The said Billington was one of 
 the profanest among us. He came from London 
 and I know not by what friends shuffled into our 
 Company. We used all due means about his trial : 
 
THE ANNALS OF NEW ENGLAND. 1 23 
 
 was found guilty both by grand and petty jury ; and 
 we took the advice of Mr. Winthrop and others, the 
 ablest gentlemen in the Massachusetts Bay, who all 
 concured with us that he ought to die and the land 
 be purged from blood. — [Taken from Bradford.] 
 
 [Jan. 3d 163 1.] Dies [at Boston] the daughter 
 of Mr. Sharp [I suppose Thomas Sharp Esq. one 
 of the Assistants] a godly virgin, making a comfort- 
 able end after a long sickness. The Plantation here 
 [i.e. I suppose at Boston] received not the like loss 
 of any woman since we came hither ; and therefore 
 she well deserves to be remembered in this place. 
 And among those who died [at Boston] about the 
 end of Jan. was the daughter of John Ruggles, a girl 
 of eleven years old, who in the time of her sickness 
 expressed to the minister and those about her so much 
 faith and assurance of salvation as is rarely found in any 
 of that age ; Which I thought not unworthy here to 
 commit to memory. And if any tax me with wast- 
 ing paper with recording these small matters, such 
 may consider that small things in the beginning of 
 politic bodies are as remarkable as greater in bodies 
 full grown. — [From Gov. Dudley.] 
 
 [1632.] This year, the General Court of Pc 
 [Plymouth Colony] make an extraordinary Act ; That 
 whoever refuses the Office of Governor, shall pay 
 jQio Sterling, unless he were chose two years going ; 
 and whoever refuses the Office of Counsellor or Mag- 
 istrate, ^10 Sterling. — [From a manuscript letter.] 
 
 [1633.] This spring, or especially all the month 
 of May, there are such [numbers] of a great sort of 
 
124 THOMAS PRINCE. 
 
 flies, like for bigness to bumble-bees, which come 
 out of holes in the ground [in Pc] replenish all the 
 wood, eat the green things, and make such a con- 
 stant yelling noise as all the woods ring of them and 
 [deafens] the hearers. The Indians tell us that sick- 
 ness will follow : and so it [proves] in June, July and 
 August. They have not by the English been heard 
 or seen before or since [i.e. to the beginning of 1647, 
 when Gov. Bradford ends his History : but have in 
 like manner at distant periods risen up since, and are 
 known by the name of Locusts], 
 
WILLIAM DOUGLASS. 
 
 William Douglass was a Scotchman who came 
 to America in 1716 when he was about twenty- 
 five years of age. Two years later he settled in 
 Boston, where he attained great reputation as a phy- 
 sician and savant. His influence was lessened, how- 
 ever, by the free way in which he expressed rather 
 unorthodox religious views, and conducted political 
 and scientific controversies. He was really a partisan 
 journalist, and it is because he showed great ability in 
 his fulminations against persons and things he did not 
 like, that his Summary, or Historical Account of the 
 British Settlements (1 747-1 753) is interesting, es- 
 pecially for its juicy footnotes, to the general reader, 
 and valuable, in spite of its prejudices and inaccuracies, 
 to the historical student. His medical writings do 
 not concern us ; but it is worth noting that he printed 
 a good almanac, and that through his benefactions he 
 was accorded the honor of having a town in Worcester 
 County named after him. He died in his adopted 
 home, October 21, 1752, and in him the New World 
 lost a most picturesque and useful citizen who, if he 
 did oppose inoculation for small-pox, nevertheless 
 anathematized the craze for paper money in a most 
 effective style. 
 
 125 
 
126 WILLIAM DOUGLASS. 
 
 THE BUCCANEERS. 
 
 [From '« A Summary, Historical and Political,' ' 
 etc, 1747. Footnote, Vol. I. p. 40, Section 
 11. Article ii. Ed. of 1755.] 
 
 The Buccaneers originally were a vagrant, vicious, 
 seafaring, piratical people, chiefly English and French. 
 They were used to kill wild bulls and cows with long 
 fusees, called Buccanier-pieces, for their hides and tal- 
 low ; at first they committed depredations only upon 
 the Spaniards and Spanish settlements (Morgan took 
 Porto-Bello and Panama, anno 1671), and although 
 a notorious pirate was knighted by that prince of 
 pleasure and whim, King Charles ii, but afterwards 
 was a disgrace. They carried on this Bellum Pira- 
 ticum against the Spaniards in the West-Indies from 
 anno 1666 to anno 1688, mad-man like, for small 
 booty, and that soon consumed ; they suffered the 
 greatest fatigues, hunger and risk of life. They first 
 formed themselves upon a small island called Tortugas, 
 north of Hispaniola (all islands where tortoise or turtle 
 frequent, are by the Spaniards called Tortugas ; that 
 island near the Margaritas upon the coast of New- 
 Spain, from whence by a Spanish treaty at Madrid, 
 anno 17 16, New-England brings salt for their fishery, 
 is called Salt-Tortugas) as also upon the N.W. parts 
 of Hispaniola ; the court of France sent them over a 
 governor, and colonized them ; this is the original of 
 the French rich settlements there; it is true, when 
 the French had the Spanish Assiento contract for 
 negroes, Spain consented to their having a lodge and 
 
THE BUCCANEERS. 1 27 
 
 place of refreshment there ; by their usual way of en- 
 croaching upon their neighbors, they are now become 
 superior to the Spanish of Hispaniola. 
 
 A SPICY FOOTNOTE ON BISHOP 
 BERKELEY. 
 
 [From the Same, Footnote, Vol. I. p. 149.] 
 
 This notion of a healthful climate, gave occasion 
 to a late scheme projected by a whimsical man, dean 
 
 B ly, since bishop of Cl[oy]ne in Ireland, of 
 
 founding in Bermudas an university college or semi- 
 nary for the education of the British American youth. 
 Projectors are generally inconsiderate, rash, and run 
 too fast. He did not consider that places for health 
 are accommodated for valetudinarians and old people ; 
 whereas young people, where the stamina vitae are 
 good, seldom want health (at Harvard-college in 
 Cambridge near Boston in New-England, not ex- 
 ceeding one or two per cent, per ann. die) this place 
 is of very difficult access or navigation ; does not pro- 
 duce a sufficiency for the present parsimonious inhab- 
 itants. This abstracted notion seems only adequate 
 to the conceptions of a common school-master, to 
 keep his boys together (as a shepherd does by folding 
 of his sheep) while they learn to read English, and 
 labor at the rudiments of the Latin language ; whereas 
 young gentlemen, students of the belles-lettres, civil 
 history, natural history, or any of the three learned 
 professions, require a larger field than that of a small 
 island divulsed (if we may so express it) from the 
 
128 WILLIAM DOUGLASS. 
 
 world or continents of the earth. He hired a ship, 
 put on board a good library (some part of it he bounti- 
 fully bestowed upon the colleges of Massachusetts-bay 
 and Connecticut in New-England) and in company 
 with some gentlemen of great worth, after a tedious 
 winter passage, put in at Rhode-Island, a small colony 
 of New-England ; built a kind of a cell, lived there 
 a recluse life for some time, until this fit of enthusiasm 
 did defervesce, and was convinced of the idleness of 
 his whim, did not proceed, but returned to England. 
 There are enthusiasts in all affairs of life ; this man 
 of himself was an enthusiast in many affairs of life ; 
 not confined to religion and the education of youth ; 
 he invaded another of the learned professions, Medi- 
 cine, which in a peculiar manner is called the learned 
 profession ; he published a book called Sir is (the ratio 
 nom'mis I cannot investigate) or tar-water, an univer- 
 sal medicine or panacea ; he never knew it fail, if 
 copiously administered, of curing any fever; whereas 
 many fevers, viz. that of the plague, of the small-pox, 
 with symptoms of purples and general haemorrhages, 
 &c. in their own nature, to most constitutions from 
 first seizure are mortal, by an universal necrosis or 
 sudden blast of the constitution. It cures the mur- 
 rain, rot, and all other malignant distempers amongst 
 cattle, sheep &c. The continued or long use of it 
 does violence to the constitution ; in asthmas, and 
 rheumatic disorder, a short use of it has been benefi- 
 cial, but our materia medica affords more efficacious 
 and safe medicines ; it is at present almost worn out 
 of fashion. Tar is only turpentine by fire rendered 
 of a caustic quality ; whereas turpentine (and conse- 
 quently its water or decoction) by the experience of 
 
FOOTNOTE ON BISHOP BERKELEY. 1 29 
 
 many ages, has been found a most beneficent, medici- 
 nal, natural balsam. 
 
 He ought to have checked this officious genius 
 (unless in his own profession way he had acquired 
 this nostrum by inspiration) from intruding into the 
 affairs of a distinct profession. Should a doctor in 
 medicine practice public praying and preaching (though 
 only in a quack or Whitefield vagrant manner) with 
 pious, private, ghostly advice and exhortations to his 
 patients alias penitents, the clergy would immediately 
 take the alarm, and use their Bruta Fulmina against 
 this other profession. This seems to be well expressed 
 in a London News-paper by way of banter or ridicule 
 
 The bishop's book annoys the learned tribe; 
 
 They threaten hard, u We'll preach, if you prescribe." 
 
 As this Bermudas college projection, and his resi- 
 dence in New-England, have rendered him famous 
 in North-America, perhaps it may not be impertinent 
 
 to give some further history of MR. P ly, in his 
 
 proper character as a divine : I shall take it from his 
 Minute Philosopher, a book composed in New-Eng- 
 land, and confine it to his wild notions of mysteries 
 in religion. He says that from a certain enthusiasm 
 in human nature all religions do sprout : from the 
 faith which children have in the directions of their 
 parents : from the great share that faith has in the 
 policy of nations (he means the Arcana Imperii) and 
 in common commerce or trade, we are led to faith in 
 religious revelations. Since we cannot explain many 
 obvious things in nature, why should we be obliged 
 to do so in religion ? In a very loose expression, he 
 compares mysteries in religion to the enthusiastic, and 
 
130 WILLIAM DOUGLASS. 
 
 to demonstration non-entities of the philosopher's stone 
 in chemistry, and of perpetual motion in mechanics. 
 The abstracted idea of a triangle is as difficult as that 
 of the Trinity ; that of the communication of motion, 
 as difficult as that of the communication of grace. We 
 ought to have the same reason for trusting the priest 
 in religion, that we have for trusting the lawyer or 
 physician with our fortune or life ; thus every man 
 ought to have a liberty of choosing his own priest and 
 religion; this is too general a toleration, and puts an 
 end to all social religion. 
 
 To conclude, the right reverend the bishop of 
 
 CI ne, notwithstanding of his peculiarities, is a 
 
 most generous, beneficent, and benevolent gentleman, 
 as appears by his donations in New-England. 
 
 CONCERNING THE GENERAL NATURE 
 AND CONSTITUTION OF BRITISH 
 NORTH-AMERICAN COLONIES 
 
 [Section iv. Article 11.] 
 
 All our American Settlements are properly Col- 
 onies, not Provinces as they are generally called : Prov- 
 ince respects a conquered people (the Spaniards in 
 Mexico and Peru may perhaps in propriety bear this 
 appellation) under a jurisdiction imposed upon them 
 by the conqueror ; Colonies are formed of national 
 people v.g. British in the British Colonies, trans- 
 ported to form a settlement in a foreign or remote 
 country. 
 
NORTH-AMERICAN COLONIES. 131 
 
 The first settlers of our colonies, were formed from 
 various sorts of people. 1 . Laudably ambitious 
 adventurers. 2. The malecontents, the unfortunate, 
 the necessitous from home. 3. Transported crimi- 
 nals. The present proportion of these ingredients 
 in the several Plantations varies much, for reasons 
 which shall be mentioned in the particular sections 
 of Colonies, and does depend much upon the condi- 
 tion of the first settlers : Some were peopled by 
 Rebel Tories, some by Rebel Whigs (that principle 
 which at one time is called royalty, at another time 
 is called rebellion) some by Church of England-Men, 
 some by Congregational ists or Independents, some by 
 Quakers, some by Papists (Maryland and Monserrat) 
 the most unfit People to incorporate with our con- 
 stitution. 
 
 Colonies have an incidental good effect, they drain 
 from the mother-country the disaffected and the vicious 
 (in this same manner, subsequent colonies purge the 
 more ancient colonies) ; Rhode-Island and Providence 
 Plantations, drained from Massachusetts-Bay, the 
 Antinomians, Quakers, and other wild sectaries. 
 Perhaps in after times (as it is at times with the Lord 
 Lieutenants and other high officers in Ireland) some 
 malecontents of figure, capable of being troublesome 
 to the administration at home, may be sent in some 
 great offices to the Plantations. 
 
 In our Colonies we have four sorts of people. 
 1. Masters, that is planters and merchants. 2. White 
 Servants. 3. Indian Servants. 4. Slaves for life, 
 mostly Negroes. White servants are of two sorts, 
 viz. poor people from Great Britain, and Ireland 
 mostly, these are bound or sold, as some express it, 
 
132 WILLIAM DOUGLASS. 
 
 for a certain number of years, to reimburse the trans- 
 porting charges, with some additional profit ; the 
 others are criminals judicially transported, and their 
 time of exile and servitude sold by certain under- 
 takers and their agents. 
 
 In our American settlements, generally the desig- 
 nations are, Province, where the King appoints a 
 Governor ; Colony, where the freemen elect their 
 own Governor : This customary acceptation is not 
 universal ; Virginia is called a Colony, perhaps be- 
 cause formerly a Colony, and the most ancient. 
 
 We have some Settlements with a Governor only ; 
 others with Governor and Council, such are New- 
 foundland, Nova-Scotia, Hudson's Bay, and Georgia, 
 without any house or negative deputed by the planters, 
 according to the essence of a British Constitution : 
 These, may be said, not colonized. 
 
 There are various sorts of Royal Grants of Colonies. 
 1. To one or more personal proprietors, their heirs 
 and assigns ; such are Maryland and Pennsylvania ; 
 both property and government. 2. The property 
 to personal Proprietors ; the government and jurisdic- 
 tion in the Crown : this is the state of Carolinas and 
 Jersies. 3. Property and government in the Crown, 
 viz. Virginia, New York, and New-Hampshire, com- 
 monly called Piscataqua. 4. Property in the people 
 and their Representatives ; the government in the 
 Crown ; as is Massachusetts-Bay. 5. Property and 
 government in the Governor and Company, called 
 the Freemen of the Colony, such are Connecticut 
 and Rhode-Island. 
 
 This last seems to be the most effectual method of 
 the first settling and peopling of a Colony ; Mankind 
 
EXTRACTS FROM DR. DOUGLASS. 1 33 
 
 are naturally desirous of parity and leveling, without 
 any fixed superiority, but when a society is come to 
 maturity, a more distinct fixed subordination is found 
 to be requisite. Connecticut, Rhode-Island, and some 
 of the Proprietary Governments, are of opinion, that 
 they are not obliged to attend to, or follow any in- 
 structions or orders from their Mother- Country or 
 Court of Great-Britain ; they do not send their laws 
 home to the Plantation-Offices to be presented to the 
 King in Council for approbation or disallowance : 
 They assume the command of the militia, which by 
 the British Constitution is a prerogative of the Crown : 
 Some time ago, they refused not only a preventive 
 custom-house office, but likewise a Court of Vice- 
 Admiralty's officers appointed from home ; but these 
 points they have given up, especially considering that 
 the Royal Charter grants them only the privilege of 
 trying causes, intra corpus comitatus, but not a-float 
 or super ahum mare. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM DR. DOUGLASS'S 
 
 Numerous Animadversations and Digressions upon 
 Paper Currencies. 
 
 From time to time, anticipating the affair of curren- 
 cies referred to the appendix, may be excused : this 
 pernicious desolating torrent, becoming more and 
 more violent, requires a more speedy resistance. 
 
 The colony of Massachusetts-Bay was the leader 
 of paper currencies in the British Plantations, and 
 have now at length carried this fraud to the utmost 
 
J 34 
 
 WILLIAM DOUGLASS. 
 
 (even beyond North Carolina management) if carried 
 further the staple must break, and the fraud of the 
 wicked projectors (in all affairs there are limits which 
 in the nature of things cannot be exceeded) cease. 
 — [Summary, Vol. I. p. 359, note.] 
 
 In this article we shall have frequent occasion to 
 mention money-affairs, viz. emissions of public pro- 
 vincial bills of credit called paper-money ; supplies of 
 the treasury ; annual taxes, salaries, and other govern- 
 ment charges ; all which at various times have been 
 expressed in various tenors ; viz. Old tenor, middle 
 tenor, new tenor first, new tenor second, which in 
 the face of the bill is about twelve per cent, worse than 
 new tenor first, but from the inaccuracy of our people, 
 and an abandoned neglect of a proper credit, pass 
 indifferently at the same value. — [Vol. I. p. 493.] 
 
 The fallacious plantation paper-money currencies 
 are a most disagreeable topic, and fall too often in my 
 way : here I cannot avoid observing, that the habitual 
 practice of this paper-money cheat has had a bad in- 
 fluence not only upon profligate private persons, but 
 upon the administration of some of our New England 
 governments : for instance, one of the legislature, a 
 singer of the Rhode-Island colony bills, was not long 
 since convicted of signing counterfeit bills. — [Vol. II. 
 p. 87, note.] 
 
WILLIAM STITH. 
 
 William Stith, distinguished among his fellow- 
 Virginians as clergyman, educator, and historian, was 
 born in 1689, and died at Williamsburg, September 
 2 7» 1755. His family connections, especially with 
 the Randolphs, assisted him in the development of 
 his literary and professional talents, and he studied 
 theology and was ordained in England. In 1 7 3 1 he 
 became master of the Grammar School at William 
 and Mary, and seven years later was chosen 
 Chaplain of the House of Burgesses. In 1752, 
 he reaped almost the sole reward of his previous 
 labors as a historian by being elected President of 
 the college. His History of Virginia from the 
 First Settlement to the Dissolution of the London 
 Company appeared at Williamsburg in 1747 
 (new ed., N.Y., 1866), but he was apparently not 
 much encouraged by the aristocratic planters in be- 
 half of whose family and colonial pride he had labored 
 so diligently. His work is accurate and scholarly, 
 but very diffuse, as Jefferson afterward declared. 
 Yet for the limited period it covers, it is distinctly 
 valuable, and its learned author should be remembered 
 as one of the few Southern scholars of his time. 
 
 *35 
 
136 WILLIAM STITH. 
 
 A SKETCH OF CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 
 
 [From the "History of Virginia." 1747.] 
 
 He was born a gentleman, to a competent fortune, 
 at Willoughby in Lincolnshire, in the year 1579. 
 From his very childhood, he had a roving and 
 romantic fancy, and was strangely set upon per- 
 forming some brave and adventurous achievement. 
 Accordingly, being about thirteen years of age at 
 school, he sold his satchel and books, and all he 
 had, to raise money, in order to go secretly beyond 
 sea. But his father dying just at that time, he was 
 stopped for the present, and fell into the hands of 
 guardians, more intent on improving his estate, than 
 him. However, at fifteen, in the year 1594, he was 
 bound to a merchant at Lynne, the most considerable 
 trader in those parts. But because he would not send 
 him immediately to sea, he found means in the train 
 of Mr. Peregrine Berty, second son to the Lord 
 Willoughby, to pass into France. Here, and in the 
 Low-Countries, he first learned the rudiments of war ; 
 to which profession he was led by a strong propensity 
 of genius. He was afterwards carried into Scotland, 
 with delusive hopes, from a Scottish gentleman, of 
 being effectually recommended to King James. But 
 soon finding himself baffled in his expectations, he 
 returned to Willoughby, his native place ; where, 
 meeting with no company agreeable to his way of 
 thinking, he retired into a wood, at a good distance 
 from any town, and there built himself a pavilion of 
 boughs, and was wholly employed in studying some 
 
SKETCH OF CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 1 37 
 
 treatises of the art of war, and in the exercise of his 
 horse and lance. But his friends, being concerned at 
 such a whimsical turn of mind, prevailed with an 
 Italian gentleman, rider to the Earl of Lincoln, to 
 insinuate himself into his acquaintance ; and, as he 
 was an expert horseman, and his talent and studies 
 lay the same way with Mr. Smith's, he drew him 
 from his sylvan retirement, to spend some time with 
 him at Tattersall. 
 
 But Smith's genius soon hurried him again into 
 Flanders ; where, lamenting to see such effusion of 
 Christian blood, he resolved to try his fortune against 
 the Turks. In order to this, he passed through 
 France, with variety of adventure and misfortune, 
 in which he always showed a high and martial spirit. 
 At Marseilles he embarked for Italy. But the ship 
 meeting with much foul weather, a rabble of pilgrims 
 on board hourly cursed him for a Huguenot, railed at 
 Queen Elizabeth and his whole nation, and swore they 
 should never have fair weather, as long as he was in 
 the ship. At last, the passions of these pious Chris- 
 tians rose so high, that they threw him overboard ; 
 trusting, we may suppose, in the merit and superero- 
 gation of that holy pilgrimage, to expiate the trifling 
 offence and peccadillo of murder. However, Smith, 
 by the Divine assistance, got safe to a small uninhabited 
 island, against Nice in Savoy. From thence he was, 
 the next day, taken off by a French Rover, who 
 treated him very kindly, and with whom he therefore 
 made the tour of the whole Mediterranean, both on 
 the Mahometan and the Christian coasts. At length, 
 after a desperate battle, having taken a very rich Vene- 
 tian ship, the generous Frenchman set him ashore, with 
 
138 WILLIAM STITH. 
 
 his share of the prize : amounting to five hundred 
 sequins in specie, and a box of rich commodities, 
 worth near as much more. And now out of curi- 
 osity ranging all the regions and principalities of Italy, 
 he at last went to Vienna, and entered himself a 
 gentleman volunteer, in Count Meldritch's regiment, 
 against the Turk. 
 
 He had not been long in the Christian army, before 
 he was distinguished for a man of great personal bra- 
 very ; and in the sieges of Olumpagh and Alba-Regalis, 
 he was the author of some stratagems, which showed 
 a happy talent for war, and did signal service to the 
 Christian cause. He was thereupon immediately 
 advanced to the command of a troop of horse ; and 
 was, soon after, made sergeant-major of the regiment, 
 a post, at that time, next to the lieutenant-colonel. 
 But Count Meldritch, a Transylvanian nobleman by 
 birth, afterwards passed with his regiment out of the 
 imperial service into that of his natural prince, Sigis- 
 mond Bathori, Duke of Transylvania. And here, 
 endeavoring to recover some patrimonial lordships, 
 then in the possession of the Turk, he laid siege to 
 a strong town, chiefly inhabited by renegados and 
 banditti. Whilst their works were advancing slowly, 
 and with great difficulty, a Turkish officer issued forth 
 of the town, and challenged any Christian, of the dig- 
 nity of a captain, to a single combat. Many were 
 eager of the honor of humbling this haughty Mussel- 
 man ; but it was at last decided, by lot, in favor of 
 Captain Smith. Accordingly, the ramparts of the 
 town being filled with fair dames and men in arms, 
 and the Christian army drawn up in battalia, thr 
 combatants entered the field, well mounted and 
 
SKETCH OF CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. 1 39 
 
 richly armed, to the sound of hautboys and trumpets ; 
 where, at the first encounter, Smith bore the Turk 
 dead to the ground, and went off triumphantly with 
 his head. But the infidel garrison being enraged at 
 this he afterwards engaged two other officers ; and, 
 being a great master of his arms and the management 
 of his horse, he carried off their heads, in the same 
 manner. After which being attended with a guard 
 of six thousand men, with the three Turkish horses 
 led before him, and before each a Turk's head upon 
 a spear, he was conducted to the General's pavilion ; 
 who received him with open arms, and presented him 
 with a fine horse, richly caparisoned, and with a 
 scimitar and belt, worth three hundred ducats. Soon 
 after, the Duke himself, coming to view his army, 
 gave him his picture, set in gold ; settled three hun- 
 dred ducats upon him, as a yearly pension ; and 
 issued his letters patent of noblesse, giving him three 
 Turk heads, in a shield, for his arms ; which coat he 
 ever afterwards bore, and it was admitted and recorded 
 in the Herald's office in England, by Sir William 
 Segar, Garter, principal King at Arms. 
 
 But, soon after, the Duke of Transylvania was de- 
 prived of his dominions by the Emperor ; and Smith, 
 at the fatal battle of Rottenton, in the year 1602, 
 was left upon the field, among the dreadful carnage 
 of Christians, as dead. But the pillagers, perceiving 
 life in him, and judging, by the richness of his habit 
 and armor, that his ransom might be considerable, 
 took great pains to recover him. After that, he was 
 publicly sold, among the other prisoners ; and was 
 bought by a Bashaw, who sent him to Constantinople, 
 as a present to his mistress, Charatza Tragabigzanda, 
 
140 WILLIAM STITH. 
 
 a beautiful young Tartarian lady. Smith was then 
 twenty-three years of age, in the bloom of life, and, 
 as it seems, of a very handsome person. For this 
 young lady was so moved with compassion, or rather 
 love, for him, that she treated him with the utmost 
 tenderness and regard. And, to prevent his being 
 ill used or sold by her mother, she sent him into 
 Tartary, to her brother, who was Timor Bashaw of 
 Nalbrits, on the Palus Moeotis. Here she intended 
 he should stay, to learn the language, together with 
 the manners and religion of the Turks, till time should 
 make her mistress of herself. 
 
 But the Bashaw, suspecting something of the matter, 
 from the affectionate expressions with which she rec- 
 ommended and pressed his good usage, only treated 
 Smith with the greater cruelty and inhumanity. Smith' s 
 high spirit, raised also by a consciousness of Traga- 
 bigzanda's passion, could but ill brook his harsh treat- 
 ment. At last, being one day threshing alone at a 
 grange above a league from the house, the Timor 
 came, and took occasion to kick, spurn and revile 
 him, that, forgetting all reason, Smith beat out his 
 brains with his threshing bat. Then reflecting upon 
 his desperate state, he hid the body under the straw, 
 filled his knapsack with corn, put on the Timor's 
 clothes, and, mounting his horse, fled into the deserts 
 of Circassia. After two or three days' fearful wan- 
 dering, he happened, providentially, on the castragan, 
 or great road, that leads into Muscovy. Following 
 this for sixteen days, with infinite dread and fatigue, 
 he at last arrived at a Muscovite garrison on the fron- 
 tiers. Here he was kindly entertained and presented, 
 as also at all the places through which he passed. 
 
SKETCH OF CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH. •141 
 
 Having travelled through Siberia, Muscovy, Transyl- 
 vania, and the midst of Europe, he at length found 
 his old friend and gracious patron, the Duke of Tran- 
 sylvania, at Leipsic, together with Count Meldritch, 
 his colonel. Having spent some time with them, the 
 Duke at his departure gave him a pass, intimating the 
 services he had done, and the honors he had received ; 
 presenting him, at the same time, with fifteen hun- 
 dred ducats of gold, to repair his losses. And, al- 
 though he was now intent on returning to his native 
 country, yet, being furnished with this money, he 
 spent some time in travelling through the principal 
 cities and provinces of Germany, France, and Spain. 
 From the last, being led by the rumor of wars, he 
 passed over into Africa, and visited the court of Mo- 
 rocco. Having viewed many of the places and curi- 
 osities of Barbary, he at last returned, through France, 
 to England ; and, in his passage in a French galley, 
 they had a most desperate engagement, for two or 
 three days together, with two Spanish men-of-war. 
 In England all things were still, and in the most pro- 
 found peace ; so that there was no room or prospect 
 for a person of his active and warlike genius. And 
 therefore, having spent some time in an idle and un- 
 easy state, he willingly embarked himself with Captain 
 Gosnold, in the project of settling colonies in America, 
 and came to Virginia. 
 
 His conduct here has been sufficiently related, and 
 I shall finish his character, with the testimonies of 
 some of his soldiers and fellow adventurers. They 
 own him to have made justice his first guide, and 
 experience his second : That he was ever fruitful in 
 expedients, to provide for the people under his com- 
 
I4«2 WILLIAM STITH 
 
 mand, whom he would never suffer to want any 
 thing, he either had, or could procure : That he 
 rather chose to lead, than send his soldiers into dan- 
 ger ; and, upon all hazardous or fatiguing expeditions, 
 always shared everything equally with his company 
 and never desired any of them to do or undergo 
 anything, that he was not ready to do or undergo 
 himself: That he hated baseness, sloth, pride, and in- 
 dignity, more than any danger : That he would suffer 
 want, rather than borrow ; and starve, sooner than 
 not pay : That he loved action more than words ; 
 and hated falsehood and covetousness worse than 
 death : and that his adventures gave life and subsist- 
 ency to the colony, and his loss was their ruin and 
 destruction. They confess, that there were many 
 captains in that age (as there are indeed in all ages) 
 who were no soldiers ; but that Captain Smith was 
 a soldier, of the true old English stamp, who fought, 
 not for gain or empty praise, but for his country's 
 honor and the public good ; That his wit, courage, 
 and success here, were worthy of eternal memory : 
 That by the mere force of his virtue and courage, he 
 awed the Indian kings, and made them submit, and 
 bring presents : That, notwithstanding such a stern 
 and invincible resolution, there was seldom seen a 
 milder and more tender heart than his was : That he 
 had nothing in him counterfeit or sly, but was open, 
 honest, and sincere : and that they never knew a 
 soldier, before him, so free from those military vices 
 cf wine, tobacco, debts, dice, and oaths. 
 
JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 Jonathan Edwards, by common consent the 
 greatest of American divines, and one of the great 
 theologians and metaphysicians of the world, was 
 born of good New England stock at East Windsor, 
 Connecticut, October 5, 1702. A wonderfully pre- 
 cocious child, he wrote a paper at the age of ten to dis- 
 prove the materiality of the soul . He entered Yale when 
 only twelve years old, and graduated in due course, 
 pursuing studies in the natural sciences and metaphy- 
 sics that were in advance of his years, and indeed of 
 his country. During this period all his doubts as to 
 the reconciliation of God's absolute sovereignty with the 
 damnation of a large part of the human race suddenly 
 vanished, and he was filled instead with a kind of 
 God-intoxication which remained with him through 
 life. He studied theology, preached in New York 
 in 1722, became a tutor in Yale the next year, and 
 in 1726 accepted an invitation to become the col- 
 league of his grandfather, Solomon Stoddard, the 
 distinguished pastor of the church at Northampton, 
 Massachusetts. The next year he married Sarah 
 Pierrepont, whom he had previously described in the 
 exquisite fragment given among our selections. His 
 married life was most happy, and for half a generation 
 his ministerial career was all that even he could have 
 desired. He communed with nature as a poet, he 
 preached eloquent sermons which in that time of reli- 
 gious revival deeply affected many souls, he developed 
 H3 
 
144 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 the contributions he was later to make to metaphysics 
 and the Calvinistic theology. His success as a mov- 
 ing preacher probably culminated in the famous ser- 
 mon preached at Enfield, Connecticut, July 8, 1741, 
 passages from which will be found in our extracts. 
 Three years later his relations with his parishioners 
 became strained, through his well-meaning but rather 
 ill-advised efforts to prevent the young people of his 
 congregation from reading fiction which was probably 
 mu.'h less demoralizing than he imagined it to be. 
 Shortly after, he undertook to enforce the old Congre- 
 gational rule restricting admission to the church to 
 persons professing religious convictions. As a result 
 of this serious friction, he was forced to resign his 
 charge in the summer of 1750. Posterity has, of 
 course, sided with him, but it seems clear that his 
 parishioners were not without a case. His friends, 
 especially in Scotland, stood by him, however, and 
 parishes were offered him, but he preferred to be- 
 come a simple missionary to the Indians at Stockbridge. 
 Here he preached and labored upon some of his 
 great metaphysical and theological works until in 
 1757 he was called to succeed his son-in-law, Presi- 
 dent Burr of Princeton. He was installed early in 
 1758, but was not permitted to serve more than a 
 few weeks, for, having been inoculated against the 
 small-pox, he was taken with the disease and died 
 on March 22. 
 
 Edwards's fame as a great thinker has steadily in- 
 creased since his death. Competent judges are in- 
 clined to doubt whether America has ever produced 
 a man gifted with more sheer intellectual force. Cer- 
 tainly no other American has taken in the eyes of 
 
FROM EDWARDS'S RESOLUTIONS. 145 
 
 foreigners such rank as a metaphysician and theologian. 
 Yet the man was as great in his private character as 
 in his character of thinker. Under other circum- 
 stances he might have developed into a great poet, 
 and even as it is, many wonderfully poetical passages 
 are to be found in his writings. No complete edi- 
 tion of these is to be obtained, but there are three, 
 in eight, ten, and four volumes respectively, and there 
 is an admirable short biography by the Rev. A. V. 
 G. Allen, which furnishes the general reader with 
 the needed criticism of a theology which is naturally 
 somewhat antiquated. Edwards's most important 
 works, which, when all deductions have been made, 
 remain a fount of inspiration to those who truly think, 
 are as follows : Faithful Narrative of the Surprising 
 Work of God (1736), Treatise concerning the Re- 
 ligious Affections (1746), On the Freedom of the 
 Will (1754), Treatise on Original Sin (1758), 
 History of Redemption (1774). To these should 
 be added his numerous sermons, his Thoughts con- 
 cerning the Present Revival of Religion in New 
 England (1742), his Life of David Brainerd, and 
 finally his valuable juvenile notes on scientific subjects, 
 and his various personal memoranda. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM EDWARDS'S RESOLU- 
 TIONS. 
 
 [Formed in Early Life.] 
 
 4. Resolved never to Do, Be or Suffer, anything 
 in soul or body, less or more, but what tends to the 
 glory of God. 
 
146 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 34. Resolved, never to speak in narrations any- 
 thing but the pure and simple verity. 
 
 4.1. Resolved, to ask myself at the end of every 
 day, week, month, and year, wherein I could possibly 
 in any respect have done better. 
 
 43. Resolved, never to act as if I were anyway 
 my own, but entirely and altogether God's. 
 
 47. Resolved, to endeavor to my utmost to deny 
 whatever is not most agreeable to a good, and univer- 
 sally sweet and benevolent, quiet, peaceable, contented, 
 easy, compassionate, generous, humble, meek, modest, 
 submissive, obliging, diligent and industrious, chari- 
 table, even, patient, moderate, forgiving, serene 
 temper ; and to do at all times what such a temper 
 would lead me to. Examine strictly every week, 
 whether I have done so. 
 
 52. I frequently hear persons in old age say how 
 they would live, if they were to live their lives over 
 again : Resolved, that I will live just so as I can think 
 I shall wish I had done, supposing I live to old age. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM EDWARDS'S DIARY. 
 
 Saturday, March 2 (1723) O, how much pleas- 
 anter is humility than pride ! O, that God would 
 fill me with exceeding great humility, and that he would 
 evermore keep me from all pride ! The pleasures of 
 humility are really the most refined, inward, and 
 exquisite delights in the world. How hateful is a 
 proud man ! How hateful is a worm that lifts up 
 itself with pride ! What a foolish, silly, miserable, 
 blind, deceived, poor worm am I, when pride works ! 
 
POETRY OF SPIRITUALITY. 1 47 
 
 Wednesday, March 6, near sunset. Felt the 
 doctrines of election, free grace, and of one not 
 being able to do anything without the grace of God, 
 and that holiness is entirely, throughout, the work of 
 God's spirit, with more pleasure than before. 
 
 ^■JC •fC *fC *-jC yf> sfi* sfi* yf, 
 
 Saturday night, April 13. I could pray more 
 heartily this night, for the forgiveness of my enemies, 
 than ever before. 
 
 •fC *^C *f£ ^JC *fi ^jC •{£ sf> 
 
 Thursday, May 2. I think it a very good way to 
 examine dreams every morning when I awake ; what 
 are the nature, circumstances, principles, and ends of 
 my imaginary actions and passions in them, to discern 
 what are my chief inclinations, etc. 
 
 THE POETRY OF SPIRITUALITY. 
 
 [From the m Personal Narrative found among 
 his Mss."] 
 
 From about that time, I began to have a new kind 
 of apprehensions and ideas of Christ, and the work of 
 redemption, and the glorious way of salvation by him. 
 An inward, sweet sense of these things, at times, came 
 into my heart ; and my soul was led away in pleasant 
 views and contemplations of them. And my mind 
 was greatly engaged to spend my time in reading and 
 meditating on Christ, on the beauty and excellency of 
 his person, and the lovely way of salvation by free 
 grace in him. I found no books so delightful to me, 
 as those that treated of these subjects. Those words 
 
148 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 Cant. ii. I. used to be abundantly with me, "I am 
 the Rose of Sharon, and the Lily of the valleys." The 
 words seemed to me sweetly to represent the loveliness 
 and beauty of Jesus Christ. The whole book of 
 Canticles used to be pleasant to me, and I used to 
 be much in reading it, about that time ; and found, 
 from time to time, an inward sweetness, that would 
 carry me away, in my contemplations. This I know 
 not how to express otherwise than by a calm, sweet 
 abstraction of soul from all the concerns of this world ; 
 and sometimes a kind of vision, or fixed ideas and 
 imaginations, of being alone in the mountains, or 
 some solitary wilderness, far from all mankind, 
 sweetly conversing with Christ, and wrapt and 
 swallowed up in God. The sense I had of divine 
 things would often of a sudden kindle up, as it were, 
 a sweet burning in my heart ; an ardor of soul, that 
 I know not how to express. 
 
 Not long after I first began to experience these 
 things, I gave an account to my father of some things 
 that had passed in my mind. I was pretty much 
 affected by the discourse we had together ; and when 
 the discourse was ended, I walked abroad alone, in a 
 solitary place in my father's pasture, for contemplation. 
 And as I was walking there, and looking upon the 
 sky and clouds, there came into my mind so sweet a 
 sense of the glorious majesty and grace of God, as I 
 know not how to express. I seemed to see them 
 both in a sweet conjunction ; majesty and meekness 
 joined together : it was a sweet, and gentle, and holy 
 majesty ; and also a majestic meekness ; an awful 
 sweetness ; a high, and great, and holy gentleness. 
 
 After this my sense of divine things gradually 
 
POETRY OF SPIRITUALITY. 1 49 
 
 increased, and became more and more lively, and 
 had more of that inward sweetness. The appearance 
 of everything was altered : there seemed to be, as it 
 were, a calm, sweet cast or appearance of divine glory 
 in almost everything. God's excellency, his wisdom, 
 his purity and love, seemed to appear in everything ; 
 in the sun, moon, and stars ; in the clouds and blue 
 sky ; in the grass, flowers, trees ; in the water and all 
 nature ; which used greatly to fix my mind. I often 
 used to sit and view the moon for a long time ; and in 
 the day spent much time in viewing the clouds and 
 sky, to behold the sweet glory of God in these things : 
 in the mean time, singing forth, with a low voice, my 
 contemplations of the Creator and Redeemer. And 
 scarce anything, among all the works of nature, was so 
 sweet to me as thunder and lightning ; formerly noth- 
 ing had been so terrible to me. Before, I used to be 
 uncommonly terrified with thunder, and to be struck 
 with terror when I saw a thunder-storm rising ; but 
 now, on the contrary, it rejoiced me. I felt God, if 
 I may so speak, at the first appearance of a thunder- 
 storm ; and used to take the opportunity, at such 
 times, to fix myself in order to view the clouds, and 
 see the lightnings play, and hear the majestic and 
 awful voice of God's thunder, which oftentimes was 
 exceedingly entertaining, leading me to sweet con- 
 templations of my great and glorious God. While 
 thus engaged, it always seemed natural for me to 
 sing, or chant forth my meditations ; or to speak 
 my thoughts in soliloquies with a singing voice. 
 
 The heaven I desired was a heaven of holiness ; 
 to be with God, and to spend my eternity in divine 
 
150 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 love, and holy communion with Christ. My mind 
 was very much taken up with contemplations on 
 heaven, and the enjoyments there ; and on living 
 there in perfect holiness, humility and love ; and 
 it used at that time to appear a great part of the 
 happiness of heaven that there the saints could ex- 
 press their love to Christ. It appeared to me a 
 great clog and burden, that what I felt within, I 
 could not express as I desired. The inward ardor 
 of my soul seemed to be hindered and pent up, and 
 could not freely flame out as it would. I used often 
 to think how in heaven this principle should freely and 
 fully vent and express itself. Heaven appeared ex- 
 ceedingly delightful, as a world of love ; and that 
 all happiness consisted in living in pure, humble, 
 heavenly, divine love. 
 
 I remember the thoughts I used then to have of 
 holiness; and said sometimes to myself, "I do cer- 
 tainly know that I love holiness, such as the gospel 
 prescribes." It appeared to me, that there was noth- 
 ing in it but what was ravishingly lovely ; the highest 
 beauty and amiableness — a divine beauty ; far purer 
 than anything here upon earth ; and that everything 
 else was like mire and defilement in comparison of it. 
 
 Holiness, as I then wrote down some of my con- 
 templations on it, appeared to me to be of a sweet, 
 pleasant, charming, serene, calm nature ; which brought 
 an inexpressible purity, brightness, peacefulness and 
 ravishment to the soul. In other words, that it made 
 the soul like a field or garden of God, with all man- 
 ner of pleasant flowers; enjoying a sweet calm, and 
 the gently vivifying beams of the sun. The soul of a 
 true Christian, as I then wrote my meditations, ap- 
 
POETRY OF SPIRITUALITY. 151 
 
 peared like such a little white flower as we see in the 
 spring of the year ; low and humble on the ground, 
 opening its bosom to receive the pleasant beams of 
 the sun's glory; rejoicing, as it were, in a calm rap- 
 ture ; diffusing around a sweet fragrancy ; standing 
 peacefully and lovingly, in the midst of other flowers 
 round about ; all in like manner opening their bosoms, 
 to drink in the light of the sun. There was no part 
 of creature- holiness that I had so great a sense of its 
 loveliness, as humility, brokenness of heart and pov- 
 erty of spirit ; and there was nothing that I so ear- 
 nestly longed for. My heart panted after this — to 
 lie low before God, as in the dust ; that I might be 
 nothing, and that God might be all; that I might 
 become as a little child. 
 
 Once, as I rode out into the country for my health, 
 in 1737, having alighted from my horse in a retired 
 place, as my manner commonly has been, to walk for 
 divine contemplation and prayer, I had a view that 
 for me was extraordinary, of the glory of the Son of 
 God, as Mediator between God and man, and his 
 wonderful, great, full, pure and sweet grace and love, 
 and meek and gentle condescension. This grace that 
 appeared so calm and sweet, appeared also great above 
 the heavens. The person of Christ appeared ineffably 
 excellent, with an excellency great enough to swallow 
 up all thought and conception — which continued, as 
 near as I can judge, about an hour ; which kept me 
 the greater part of the time in a flood of tears, and 
 weeping aloud. I felt an ardency of soul to be, what 
 I know not otherwise how to express, emptied and 
 annihilated ; to lie in the dust, and to be full of Christ 
 alone ; to love him with a holy and pure love ; to 
 
152 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 trust in him, to live upon him ; to serve and follow 
 him; and to be perfectly sanctified and made pure, 
 with a divine and heavenly purity. I have, several 
 other times, had views very much of the same nature, 
 and which have had the same effects. 
 
 SARAH PIERREPONT, AFTERWARD HIS 
 WIFE. 
 
 [Written on a Blank Leaf, in 1723.] 
 
 They say there is a young lady in New Haven 
 who is beloved of that Great Being, who made and 
 rules the world, and that there are certain seasons in 
 which this Great Being, in some way or other invisi- 
 ble, comes to her and fills her mind with exceeding 
 sweet delight, and that she hardly cares for anything, 
 except to meditate on him — that she expects after a 
 while to be received up where he is, to be raised up 
 out of the world and caught up into heaven ; being 
 assured that he loves her too well to let her remain 
 at a distance from him always. There she is to dwell 
 with him, and to be ravished with his love and de- 
 light forever. Therefore, if you present all the world 
 before her, with the richest of its treasures, she disre- 
 gards and cares not for it, and is unmindful of any 
 pain or affliction. She has a strange sweetness in her 
 mind and singular purity in her affections ; is most 
 just and conscientious in all her conduct ; and you 
 could not persuade her to do anything wrong or sin- 
 ful, if you would give her all the world, lest she should 
 offend this Great Being. She is of a wonderful sweet- 
 
A FOUR-YEAR-OLD CONVERT. 1 53 
 
 ness, calmness and universal benevolence of mind ; 
 especially after this great God has manifested himself 
 to her mind. She will sometimes go about from place 
 to place, singing sweetly ; and seems to be always 
 full of joy and pleasure ; and no one knows for what. 
 She loves to be alone, walking in the fields and groves, 
 and seems to have some one invisible always convers- 
 ing with her. 
 
 A FOUR-YEAR-OLD CONVERT. 
 [From " Narrative of Surprising Conversions. " 
 
 ■736.] 
 
 I now proceed to the other instance that I would 
 give an account of, which is of the little child fore- 
 mentioned. Her name is Phebe Bartlet, daughter 
 of William Bartlet. I shall give the account as I took 
 it from the mouths of her parents, whose veracity none 
 that know them doubt of. 
 
 She was born in March, in the year 1 7 3 1 . About 
 the latter end of April, or beginning of May, 1735, 
 she was greatly affected by the talk of her brother, 
 who had been hopefully converted a little before, at 
 about eleven years of age, and then seriously talked to 
 her about the great things of religion. Her parents did 
 not know of it at that time, and were not wont, in 
 the counsels they gave to their children, particularly 
 to direct themselves to her, by reason of her being so 
 young, and, as they supposed, not capable of under- 
 standing ; but, after her brother had talked to her, 
 they observed her very earnestly to listen to the 
 
154 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 advice they gave to the other children, and she was ob- 
 served very constantly to retire, several times in a day, 
 as was concluded, for secret prayer, and grew more 
 and more engaged in religion, and was more fre- 
 quently in her closet, till at last she was wont to visit 
 it five or six times in a day, and was so engaged in it, 
 that nothing would, at any time, divert her from her 
 stated closet exercises. Her mother often observed 
 and watched her, when such things occurred, as she 
 thought most likely to divert her, either by putting it 
 out of her thoughts, or otherwise engaging her incli- 
 nations, but never could observe her to fail. She 
 mentioned some very remarkable instances. 
 
 She once, of her own accord, spake of her unsuc- 
 cessfulness, in that she could not find God, or to that 
 purpose. But on Thursday, the last day of July, 
 about the middle of the day, the child being in the 
 closet, where it used to retire, its mother heard it 
 speaking aloud, which was unusual, and never had been 
 observed before ; and her voice seemed to be as of one 
 exceeding importunate and engaged, but her mother 
 could distinctly hear only these words (spoken in her 
 childish manner, but seemed to be spoken with ex- 
 traordinary earnestness, and out of distress of soul), 
 " Pray bessed Lord give me salvation ! I pray, beg 
 pardon all my sins !" When the child had done 
 prayer, she came out of the closet, and came and sat 
 down by her mother, and cried out aloud. Her 
 mother very earnestly asked her several times, what 
 the matter was, before she would make any answer, 
 but she continued exceedingly crying, and writhing 
 her body to and fro, like one in anguish of spirit. 
 Her mother then asked her whether she was afraid 
 
A FOUR-YEAR-OLD CONVERT. 1 55 
 
 that God would not give her salvation. She then 
 answered, " Yes, I am afraid I shall go to hell !" 
 Her mother then endeavored to quiet her, and told 
 her she would not have her cry — she must be a good 
 girl, and pray every day, and she hoped God would 
 give her salvation. But this did not quiet her at all 
 — but she continued thus earnestly crying and taking 
 on for some time, till at length she suddenly ceased 
 crying and began to smile, and presently said with a 
 smiling countenance, " Mother, the kingdom of heaven 
 is come to me ! ' ' Her mother was surprised at the 
 sudden alteration, and at the speech, and knew not 
 what to make of it, but at first said nothing to her. 
 The child presently spake again, and said, " There 
 is another come to me, and there is another — there 
 is three;" and being asked what she meant, she 
 answered, " One is, thy will be done, and there is 
 another — enjoy him forever ; ' ' by which it seems 
 that when the child said, '* There is three come to 
 me," she meant three passages of her catechism that 
 came to her mind. 
 
 After the child had said this, she retired again into 
 her closet ; and her mother went over to her brother's, 
 who was next neighbor ; and when she came back, 
 the child, being come out of the closet, meets her 
 mother with this cheerful speech, '* I can find God 
 now ! " Referring to what she had before com- 
 plained of, that she could not find God. Then the 
 child spoke again, and said, " I love God ! " Her 
 mother asked her how well she loved God, whether 
 she loved God better than her father and mother, she 
 said, "Yes." Then she asked whether she loved 
 God better than her little sister Rachel, she answered, 
 
156 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 "Yes, better than anything!" Then her eldest sister, 
 referring to her saying she could find God now, asked 
 her where she could find God ; she answered, «« In 
 heaven." "Why," said she, "have you been in 
 heaven ? " f* No," said the child. By this it seems 
 not to have been any imagination of anything seen with 
 bodily eyes that she called God, when she said "I 
 can find God now." Her mother asked her whether 
 she was afraid of going to hell, and that had made her 
 cry. She answered, " Yes, I was ; but now I shall 
 not." Her mother asked whether she thought that 
 God had given her salvation ; she answered, '« Yes." 
 Her mother asked her when ; she answered, «f To- 
 day." She appeared all that afternoon exceeding 
 cheerful and joyful. One of the neighbors asked her 
 how she felt herself ! She answered, ?' I feel better 
 than I did." The neighbor asked her what made 
 her feel better ; she answered, <« God makes me." 
 That evening as she lay abed, she called one of her 
 little cousins to her, that was present in the room, as 
 having something to say to him ; and when he came, 
 she told him that heaven was better than earth. The 
 next day being Friday, her mother, asking her her 
 catechism, asked her what God made her for ; she 
 answered, " To serve him ; " and added, " Every- 
 body should serve God, and get an interest in 
 Christ." 
 
 The same day the elder children, when they came 
 home from school, seemed much affected with the ex- 
 traordinary change that seemed to be made in Phebe ; 
 and her sister Abigail standing by, her mother took 
 occasion to counsel her, now to improve her time, to 
 prepare for another world ; on which Phebe burst 
 
A FOUR-YEAR-OLD CONVERT. 157 
 
 out in tears, and cried out <« Poor Nabby ! " Her 
 mother told her, she would not have her cry, she 
 hoped that God would give Nabby salvation ; but 
 that did not quiet her, but she continued earnestly 
 crying for some time ; and when she had in a measure 
 ceased, her sister Eunice being by her, she burst out 
 again, and cried " Poor Eunice ! " and cried exceed- 
 ingly ; and when she had almost done, she went into 
 another room, and there looked upon her sister 
 Naomi, and burst out again, crying <« Poor Amy ! " 
 Her mother was greatly affected at such a behavior in 
 the child, and knew not what to say to her. One 
 of the neighbors coming in a little after, asked her 
 what she had cried for. She seemed, at first, back- 
 ward to tell the reason : her mother told her she 
 might tell that person, for he had given her an apple ; 
 upon which she said, she cried because she was afraid 
 they would go to hell. 
 
 . At night a certain minister, that was occasionally 
 in the town, was at the house, and talked considera- 
 ble with her of the things of religion ; and after he 
 was gone, she sat leaning on the table, with tears run- 
 ning out of her eyes ; and being asked what made her 
 cry, she said it was thinking about God. The next 
 day being Saturday, she seemed great part of the day 
 to be in a very affectionate frame, had four turns of 
 crying, and seemed to endeavor to curb herself, and 
 hide her tears, and was very backward to talk of the 
 occasion of it. On the Sabbath day she was asked 
 whether she believed in God ; she answered " Yes ; " 
 and being told that Christ was the Son of God, she 
 made ready answer, and said, "I know it." 
 
 From this time there has appeared a very remarka- 
 
158 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 ble abiding change in the child, she has been very 
 strict upon the Sabbath, and seems to long for the 
 Sabbath day before it comes, and will often in the 
 week time be inquiring how long it is to the Sabbath 
 day, and must have the days particularly counted 
 over that are between, before she will be contented. 
 And she seems to love God's house — is very eager 
 to go thither. Her mother once asked her why she 
 had such a mind to go ? Whether it was not to see 
 fine folks ? She said no, it was to hear Mr. Edwards 
 preach. When she is in the place of worship, she is 
 very far from spending her time there as children at 
 her age usually do, but appears with an attention that 
 is very extraordinary for such a child. She also ap- 
 pears very desirous at all opportunities, to go to pri- 
 vate religious meetings, and is very still and attentive 
 at home, in prayer time, and has appeared affected in 
 time of family prayer. She seems to delight much in 
 hearing religious conversation. When I once was 
 there with some others that were strangers, and talked 
 to her something of religion, she seemed more than 
 ordinarily attentive ; and when we were gone, she 
 looked out very wistly after us, and said — " I wish 
 they would come again !" Her mother asked her 
 why : says she, ** I love to hear them talk ! " 
 
 She seems to have very much of the fear of God 
 before her eyes, and an extraordinary dread of sin 
 against him ; of which her mother mentioned the fol- 
 lowing remarkable instance. Some time in August, 
 the last year, she went with some bigger children, to 
 get some plums in a neighbor' s lot ; knowing nothing 
 of any harm in what she did ; but when she brought 
 some of the plums into the house, her mother mildly 
 
A FOUR-YEAR-OLD CONVERT. I 59 
 
 reproved her, and told her that she must not get 
 plums without leave, because it was sin ; God had 
 commanded her not to steal. The child seemed 
 greatly surprised, and burst out into tears, and cried 
 out, " I will not have these plums ! " And turning to 
 her sister Eunice, very earnestly said to her — M Why 
 did you ask me to go to that plum tree ? I should 
 not have gone if you had not asked me." The other 
 children did not seem to be much affected or con- 
 cerned ; but there was no pacifying Phebe. Her 
 mother told her she might go and ask leave, and then 
 it would not be sin for her to eat them, and sent one 
 of the children to that end ; and when she returned, 
 her mother told her that the owner had given leave, 
 now she might eat them, and it would not be steal- 
 ing. This stilled her a little while, but presently 
 she broke out into an exceeding fit of crying : her 
 mother asked her what made her cry again ? Why 
 she cried now, since they had asked leave ? what it 
 was that troubled her now ? And asked her several 
 times very earnestly, before she made any answer : 
 but at last, said it was because — BECAUSE IT 
 WAS SIN. She continued a considerable time cry- 
 ing ; and said she would not go again if Eunice asked 
 her a hundred times ; and she retained her aversion 
 to that fruit for a considerable time, under the remem- 
 brance of her former sin. 
 
 She, at some times, appears greatly affected and 
 delighted with texts of Scripture that come to her 
 mind. Particularly, about the beginning of Novem- 
 ber, the last year, that text came to her mind, Rev. 
 iii. 20, M Behold I stand at the door and knock : if 
 any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will 
 
l60 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 come in, and sup with him and he with me." She 
 spoke of it to those of the family, with a great ap- 
 pearance of joy, a smiling countenance, and elevation 
 of voice, and afterwards she went into another room, 
 where her mother overheard her talking very earnestly 
 to the children about it, and particularly heard her say 
 to them, three or four times over, with an air of ex- 
 ceeding joy and admiration — '* Why it is to SUP 
 WITH GOD." At some time about the middle of 
 the winter, very late in the night, when all were in 
 bed, her mother perceived that she was awake, and 
 heard her as though she was weeping. She called 
 to her, and asked her what was the matter. She an- 
 swered with a low voice, so that her mother could 
 not hear what she said ; but perceived her to lie 
 awake, and to continue in the same frame for a con- 
 siderable time. The next morning she asked her 
 whether she did not cry the last night : the child an- 
 swered "Yes, I did cry a little, for I was thinking 
 about God and Christ, and they loved me." Her 
 mother asked her, whether to think of God and 
 Christ's loving her made her cry : she answered 
 '* Yes, it does sometimes." 
 
 She has often manifested a great concern for the 
 good of other souls, and has been wont many times, 
 affectionately to counsel the other children. Once 
 about the latter end of September, the last year, when 
 she and some other of the children were in a room by 
 themselves a husking Indian corn, the child, after a 
 while came out and sat by the fire. Her mother 
 took notice that she appeared with a more than ordi- 
 nary serious and pensive countenance, but at last she 
 broke silence, and said, " I have been talking to Nabby 
 
A FOUR-YEAR-OLD CONVERT. l6l 
 
 and Eunice." Her mother asked her what she had 
 said to them. "Why," said she, "I told them 
 they must pray, and prepare to die, that they had but 
 a little while to live in this world, and they must be 
 always ready." When Nabby came out, her mother 
 asked her whether she had said that to them. " Yes," 
 said she, " she said that and a great deal more." At 
 other times the child took her opportunities to talk to 
 the other children about the great concern of their 
 souls ; sometimes so as much to affect them, and set 
 them into tears. She was once exceeding importu- 
 nate with her mother to go with her sister Naomi to 
 pray : her mother endeavored to put her off, but she 
 pulled her by the sleeve, and seemed as if she would 
 by no means be denied. At last her mother told her, 
 that Amy must go and pray herself; " But," said the 
 child, "she will not go," and persisted earnestly to 
 beg of her mother to go with her. 
 
 She has discovered an uncommon degree of a 
 spirit of charity, particularly on the following occa- 
 sion : a poor man that lives in the woods, had lately 
 lost a cow that the family much depended on, and 
 being at the house, he was relating his misfortune, 
 and telling of the straits and difficulties they were 
 reduced to by it. She took much notice of it, and 
 it wrought exceedingly on her compassions ; and 
 after she had attentively heard him a while, she 
 went away to her father, who was in the shop, and 
 entreated him to give that man a cow ; and told him 
 that the poor man had no cow ! That the hunters 
 or something else had killed his cow ! and entreated 
 him to give him one of theirs. Her father told her 
 that they could not spare one. Then she entreated 
 
l62 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 him to let him and his family come and live at his 
 house ; and had much talk of the same nature, 
 whereby she manifested bowels of compassion to the 
 poor. 
 
 She has manifested great love to her minister ; par- 
 ticularly when I returned from my long journey for 
 my health last fall, when she heard of it she appeared 
 very joyful at the news, and told the children of it 
 with an elevated voice, as the most joyful tidings, re- 
 peating it over and over, *? Mr. Edwards is come 
 home ! Mr. Edwards is come home ! " She still 
 continues very constant in secret prayer, so far as can 
 be observed (for she seems to have no desire that others 
 should observe her when she retires, but seems to be a 
 child of a reserved temper), and every night before 
 she goes to bed will say her catechism, and will by 
 no means miss of it ; she never forgot it but once, and 
 then after she was abed, thought of it, and cried out 
 in tears, "I have not said my catechism !" And 
 would not be quieted till her mother asked her the 
 catechism as she lay in bed. She sometimes appears 
 to be in doubt about the condition of her soul, and 
 when asked whether she thinks that she is prepared 
 for death, speaks something doubtfully about it ; at 
 other times seems to have no doubt, but when asked, 
 replies, "Yes," without hesitation. 
 
THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL. 1 63 
 
 THE NATURAL AND THE SPIRITUAL 
 SPRING. 
 
 [From " Thoughts on the Revival of Religion in 
 New England."] 
 
 A great deal of noise and tumult, confusion and 
 uproar, and darkness mixed with light, and evil with 
 good, is always to be expected in the beginning of 
 something very extraordinary and very glorious in the 
 state of things in human society or the church of God : 
 as after nature has long been shut up in a cold dead 
 state in time of winter, when the sun returns in the 
 spring, there is, together with the increase of the light 
 and heat of the sun, very unpleasant and tempestuous 
 weather before all is settled calm and serene, and all 
 nature rejoices in its bloom and beauty. It is in the 
 new creation as it was in the old, the Spirit of God 
 first moved upon the face of the waters, which was 
 an occasion of great uproar and tumult, and things 
 were gradually brought to a settled state, until at 
 length all stood forth in beautiful peaceful order, when 
 the heavens and the earth were finished, and God saw 
 every thing that he had made, and behold it was very 
 good. When God is about to bring to pass something 
 great and glorious in the world, nature is in a ferment 
 and struggle, and the world, as it were, in travail. 
 As when God was about to introduce the Messiah 
 into the world, and that new and glorious dispensa- 
 tion that he set up, he shook the heavens and the earth 
 and shook all nations. There is nothing that the 
 church of God is in Scripture more frequently repre- 
 
164 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 sented by than the tree, the vine, corn, &c. which 
 gradually bring forth their fruit, and are first green 
 before they are ripe. A great revival of religion is 
 expressly compared to this gradual production of 
 vegetation, Isaiah, 61 : 1 1 ; '* As the earth bring- 
 eth forth her bud, and as the garden causeth the 
 things that are sown in it to spring forth, so the Lord 
 God will cause righteousness and praise to spring 
 forth before all the nations." The church is in a 
 special manner compared to a palm-tree. Cant. 7 : 
 7, 8 ; Exod. 15 : 27 ; 1 Kings, 6 : 29 ; Psalm 
 92 : 12. Of which tree this peculiar thing is ob- 
 served, that the fruit of it, though it be very sweet 
 and good when it is ripe, yet before it has had time 
 to ripen has a mixture of poison. 
 
 Reasons for Believing that the Great Work of 
 God for the World's Conversion may begin in 
 America. 
 
 [from the same.] 
 
 It is not unlikely that this work of God's Spirit 
 which is so extraordinary and wonderful, is the dawn- 
 ing, or at least a prelude of that glorious work of God 
 so often foretold in Scripture, which in the progress 
 and issue of it shall renew the world of mankind. If 
 we consider how long since the things foretold as 
 what should precede this great event have been ac- 
 complished ; and how long this event has been ex- 
 pected by the church of God, and thought to be nigh 
 
THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL. 1 65 
 
 by the most eminent men of God in the church ; and 
 withal consider what the state of things now is, and 
 has for a considerable time been, in the church of 
 God and the world of mankind, we cannot reasonably 
 think otherwise than that the beginning of this great 
 work of God must be near. 
 
 And there are many things that make it probable 
 that this work will begin in America, It is signified 
 that it shall begin in some very remote part of the 
 world, that the rest of the world have no communi- 
 cation with but by navigation, in Isa. 60 : 9 ; " Surely 
 the Isles will wait for me, and the ships of Tarshish 
 first, to bring my sons from far." It is exceeding 
 manifest that this chapter is a prophecy of the pros- 
 perity of the church in its most glorious state on earth 
 in the latter days ; and I cannot think that any thing else 
 can be here intended but America, by the isles that 
 are afar off, from whence the first born sons of that 
 glorious day shall be brought. Indeed by the Isles, 
 in prophecies of gospel times, is very often meant 
 Europe : it is so in prophecies of that great spreading 
 of the Gospel that should be soon after Christ's time, 
 because it was far separated from that part of the 
 world where the church of God had until then been 
 by the sea. But this prophecy cannot have respect 
 to the conversion of Europe in the time of that great 
 work of God in the primitive ages of the christian 
 church ; for it was not fulfilled then : the isles and 
 ships of Tarshish, thus understood, did not wait for 
 God first ; that glorious work did not begin in Europe, 
 but in Jerusalem, and had for a considerable time been 
 very wonderfully carried on in Asia before it reached 
 Europe. And as it is not that work of God that is 
 
1 66 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 chiefly intended in this chapter, but that more glorious 
 work that should be in the latter ages of the christian 
 church, therefore some other part of the world is 
 here intended by the Isles, that should be, as Europe 
 then was, far separated from that part of the world 
 where the church had before been by the sea, and 
 with which it can have no communication but by the 
 ships of Tarshish. What is chiefly intended is not 
 the British Isles, nor any isles near the other conti- 
 nent ; for they are spoken of as at a great distance 
 from that part of the world where the church had 
 till then been. This prophecy therefore seems 
 plainly to point out America as the first fruits of that 
 glorious day. 
 
 God has made as it were two worlds here below, 
 the old and the new (according to the names they 
 are now called by,) two great habitable continents, 
 far separated one from the other. The latter is but 
 newly discovered; it was formerly wholly unknown 
 from age to age, and is as it were now but newly 
 created; it has been, until of late, wholly the posses- 
 sion of Satan, the church of God having never been 
 in it, as it has been in the other continent from the 
 beginning of the world. This new world is probably 
 now discovered, that the new and most glorious state 
 of God's church on earth might commence there; 
 that God might in it begin a new world in a spiritual 
 respect, when he creates the new heavens and new 
 earth. 
 
 God has already put that honor upon the other 
 continent, that Christ was born there literally, and 
 there made the purchase of redemption : so, as Provi- 
 dence observes a kind of equal distribution of things, 
 
THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL. 1 67 
 
 it is not unlikely that the great spiritual birth of Christ 
 and the most glorious application of redemption is to 
 begin in this : as the elder sister brought forth Judah, 
 of whom came Christ, and so she was the mother of 
 Christ ; but the younger sister, after long barrenness, 
 brought forth Joseph and Benjamin, the beloved chil- 
 dren — Joseph, that had the most glorious apparel, 
 the coat of many colors, who was separated from his 
 brethren, and was exalted to such glory out of a dark 
 dungeon, and fed and saved the world when ready 
 to perish with famine, and was as a fruitful bough by 
 a well, whose branches ran over the wall, and was 
 blessed with all manner of blessings and precious 
 things of heaven and earth, through the good will of 
 Him that dwelt in the bush ; and was, as by the 
 horns of a unicorn, to push the people together to 
 the ends of the earth, i.e. conquer the world. See 
 Gen. 49: 22, &c. and Deut. 33 : 13, &c. and Ben- 
 jamin, whose mess was five times so great as that of 
 any of his brethren, and to whom Joseph, the type 
 of Christ, gave wealth and raiment far beyond all the 
 rest. Gen. 45 : 22. 
 
 The other continent hath slain Christ, and has 
 from age to age shed the blood of the saints and 
 martyrs of Jesus, and has often been as it were del- 
 uged with the church's blood : God has therefore 
 probably reserved the honor of building the glorious 
 temple to the daughter that has not shed so much 
 blood, when those times of the peace, and prosperity, 
 and glory of the church shall commence, that were 
 typified by the reign of Solomon. 
 
 The Gentiles first received the true religion from 
 the Jews: God's church of ancient times had been 
 
1 68 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 among them, and Christ was of them : but that there 
 might be a kind of equality in the dispensations of Provi- 
 dence, God has so ordered it, that when the Jews 
 come to be admitted to the benefits of the evangelical 
 dispensation, and to receive their highest privileges of 
 all, they should receive the Gospel from the Gentiles. 
 Though Christ was of them, yet they have been guilty 
 of crucifying him ; it is therefore the will of God that 
 that people should not have the honor of communicat- 
 ing the blessings of the kingdom of God in its most 
 glorious state to the Gentiles, but, on the contrary, 
 they shall receive the Gospel in the beginning of that 
 glorious day from the Gentiles. In some analogy to 
 this I apprehend God's dealings will be with the two 
 continents. America has received the true religion 
 of the old continent ; the church of ancient times has 
 been there, and Christ is from thence ; but that there 
 may be an equality, and inasmuch as that continent 
 has crucified Christ, they shall not have the honor of 
 communicating religion in its most glorious state to 
 us, but we to them. 
 
 The old continent has been the source and original 
 of mankind in several respects. The first parents of 
 mankind dwelt there ; and there dwelt Noah and his 
 sons ; and there the second Adam was born, and 
 was crucified and rose again : and it is probable 
 that, in some measure to balance these things, the most 
 glorious renovation of the world shall originate from 
 the. new continent, and the church of God in that 
 respect be from hence. And so it is probable that 
 that will come to pass in spirituals that has in tem- 
 porals, with respect to America ; that whereas, till 
 of late, the world was supplied with its silver and 
 
THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL. 169 
 
 gold and earthly treasures from the old continent 
 and now is supplied chiefly from the new, so the 
 course of things in spiritual respects will be in like 
 manner turned. 
 
 And it is worthy to be noted that America was 
 discovered about the time of the Reformation, or but 
 little before: which Reformation was the first thing 
 that God did towards the glorious renovation of the 
 world, after it had sunk into the depths of darkness 
 and ruin under the great antichristian apostacy. So 
 that as soon as this new world is (as it were) created 
 and stands forth in view, God presently goes about 
 doing some great thing to make way for the introduc- 
 tion of the church's latter day glory, that is to have 
 its first seat in, and is to take its rise from that new 
 world. 
 
 It is agreeable to God's manner of working, when 
 he accomplishes any glorious work in the world, to 
 introduce a new and more excellent state of his church, 
 to begin his work where his church had not been till 
 then, and where was no foundation already laid, that 
 the power of God might be the more conspicuous; 
 that the work might appear to be entirely God's, and 
 be more manifestly a creation out of nothing ; agree- 
 ably to Hos. 1: 10, "And it shall come to pass 
 that in the place where it was said unto them, ye are 
 not my people, there it shall be said unto them, ye 
 are the sons of the living God." When God is about 
 to turn the earth into a paradise, he does not begin 
 his work where there is some good growth already, 
 but in a wilderness, where nothing grows and nothing 
 is to be seen but dry sand and barren rocks ; that the 
 light may shine out of darkness and the world be re- 
 
170 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 plenished from emptiness, and the earth watered by- 
 springs from a droughty desert; agreeably to many- 
 prophecies of Scripture, as Isa. 32: 15, " Until the 
 Spirit be poured from on high and the wilderness be- 
 come a fruitful field;" and chap. 41 : 18, "I will 
 open rivers in high places and fountains in the midst 
 of the valleys ; I will make the wilderness a pool of 
 water and the dry land springs of water : I will plant 
 in the wilderness the cedar, the shittah tree, and the 
 myrtle and oil tree ; I will set in the desert the fir 
 tree, and the pine, and the box tree together;" and 
 chap. 43 : 20, "I will give waters in the wilderness 
 and rivers in the desert, to give drink to my people, 
 my chosen." Many other parallel Scriptures might 
 be mentioned. 
 
 I observed before, that when God is about to do 
 some great work for his church, his manner is to 
 begin at the lower end ; so when he is about to re- 
 new the whole habitable earth, it is probable that he 
 will begin in this utmost, meanest, youngest and 
 weakest part of it, where the church of God has been 
 planted last of all ; and so the first shall be last, and 
 the last first ; and that will be fulfilled in an eminent 
 manner in Isa. 24 : 16, " From the uttermost part 
 of the earth have we heard songs, even glory to the 
 righteous." 
 
 There are several things that seem to me to argue 
 that when the Sun of Righteousness, the Sun of the 
 new heavens and new earth, comes to rise, and comes 
 forth as the bridegroom of his church, " rejoicing as 
 a strong man to run his race, having his going forth 
 from the end of heaven, and his circuit to the end of 
 it, that nothing may be hid from the light and heat 
 
THOUGHTS ON THE REVIVAL. 171 
 
 of it," 1 the sun shall rise in the west, contrary to the 
 course of this world, or the course of things in the 
 old heavens and earth. The course of God's Provi- 
 dence shall in that day be so wonderfully altered in 
 many respects, that God will as it were change the 
 course of nature in answer to the prayers of his 
 church ; as God changed the course of nature and 
 caused the sun to go from the west to the east when 
 Hezekiah was healed, and God promised to do such 
 great things for his church, to deliver it out of the hand 
 of the king of Assyria, by that mighty slaughter by the 
 angel ; which is often used by the prophet Isaiah as 
 a type of the glorious deliverance of the church from 
 her enemies in the latter days : the resurrection of 
 Hezekiah, the king and captain of the church (as he 
 is called, 2 Kings, 20 : 5), as it were from the dead, 
 is given as an earnest of the church's resurrection and 
 salvation, Isa. 38 : 6, and is a type of the resur- 
 rection of Christ. At the same time there is a res- 
 urrection of the sun, or coming back and rising again 
 from the west, whither it had gone down, which is 
 also a type of the Sun of Righteousness. The sun 
 was brought back ten degrees, which probably brought 
 it to the meridian. The Sun of Righteousness has 
 long been going down from east to west ; and prob- 
 ably when the time comes of the church's deliver- 
 
 1 It is evident that the Holy Spirit in these expressions, Psalm 
 19:4, 5, 6, has respect to something else besides the natural 
 sun ; and that an eye is had to the Sun of Righteousness, that by 
 his light converts the soul, makes wise the simple, enlightens the 
 eyes, and rejoices the heart ; and by his preached Gospel enlight- 
 ens and warms the world of mankind. Such is the Psalmist's 
 own application in verse 7, and the apostle's application of verse 4, 
 in Rom. 10 : 1 3. 
 
172 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 ance from her enemies, so often typified by the 
 Assyrians, the light will rise in the west, until it 
 shines through the world like the sun in its meridian 
 brightness. 
 
 The same seems also to be represented by the 
 course of the waters of the sanctuary, Ezek. 47, 
 which was from west to east ; which waters un- 
 doubtedly represent the Holy Spirit, in the progress 
 of his saving influences, in the latter ages of the 
 world : for it is manifest that the whole of those last 
 chapters of Ezekiel are concerning the glorious state 
 of the church that shall then be. 
 
 And if we may suppose that this glorious work 
 of God shall begin in any part of America, I think 
 if we consider the circumstances of the settlement of 
 New England, it must needs appear the most likely 
 of all the American colonies to be the place whence 
 this work shall principally take its rise. 
 
 And if these things are so, it gives more abundant 
 reason to hope that what is now seen in America, 
 and especially in New England, may prove the dawn 
 of that glorious day ; and the very uncommon and 
 wonderful circumstances and events of this work seem 
 to me strongly to argue that God intends it as the 
 beginning or forerunner of something vastly great. 
 
 I have thus long insisted on this point, because if 
 these things are so, it greatly manifests how much it 
 behooves us to encourage and promote this work, and 
 how dangerous it will be to forbear to do so. 
 
IN THE HANDS OF AN ANGRY GOD. 1 73 
 
 SINNERS IN THE HANDS OF AN ANGRY 
 GOD. 
 
 [From a Sermon preached at Enfield, Conn., 
 July 8, 1 741.] 
 
 application. 
 
 The use may be of awakening to unconverted per- 
 sons in this congregation. This that you have heard 
 is the case of every one of you that are out of Christ. 
 That world of misery, that lake of burning brimstone, 
 is extended abroad under you. There is the dread- 
 ful pit of the glowing flames of the wrath of God ; 
 there is hell's wide gaping mouth open ; and you 
 have nothing to stand upon, nor anything to take 
 hold of. There is nothing between you and hell but 
 the air ; it is only the power and mere pleasure of 
 God that holds you up. 
 
 You are probably not sensible of this ; you find 
 you are kept out of hell, but do not see the hand of 
 God in it ; but look at other things, as the good 
 state of your bodily constitution, your care of your 
 own life, and the means you use for your own preserva- 
 tion. But indeed these things are nothing; if God 
 should withdraw his hand, they would avail no more 
 to keep you from falling than the thin air to hold up 
 a person that is suspended in it. 
 
 Your wickedness makes you as it were heavy as 
 lead and to tend downwards with great weight and 
 pressure towards hell ; and, if God should let you go, 
 you would immediately sink and swiftly descend and 
 
174 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 plunge into the bottomless gulf, and your healthy- 
 constitution, and your own care and prudence, and 
 best contrivance, and all your righteousness, would 
 have no more influence to uphold you and keep you 
 out of hell, than a spider's web would have to stop 
 a falling rock. Were it not that so is the sovereign 
 pleasure of God, the earth would not bear you one 
 moment ; for you are a burden to it ; the creation 
 groans with you ; the creature is made subject to the 
 bondage of your corruption, not willingly ; the sun 
 does not willingly shine upon you to give you light 
 to serve sin and Satan ; the earth does not willingly 
 yield her increase to satisfy your lusts ; nor is it 
 willingly a stage for your wickedness to be acted 
 upon ; the air does not willingly serve you for breath 
 to maintain the flame of life in your vitals, while you 
 spend your life in the service of God's enemies. 
 God's creatures are good, and were made for men to 
 serve God with, and do not willingly subserve to any 
 other purpose, and groan when they are abused to 
 purposes so directly contrary to their nature and end. 
 And the world would spew you out, were it not for 
 the sovereign hand of him who hath subjected it in 
 hope. There are the black clouds of God's wrath 
 now hanging directly over your heads, full of the 
 dreadful storm and big with thunder ; and were it 
 not for the restraining hand of God, it would imme- 
 diately burst forth upon you. The sovereign pleasure 
 of God, for the present, stays his rough wind ; other- 
 wise it would come with fury, and your destruction 
 would come like a whirlwind, and you would be like 
 the chafF of the summer threshing floor. 
 
 The wrath of God is like great waters that are 
 
IN THE HANDS OF AN ANGRY GOD. 1 75 
 
 dammed for the present ; they increase more and 
 more, and rise higher, till an outlet is given ; and the 
 longer the stream is stopped, the more rapid and 
 mighty is its course when once it is let loose. It is 
 true that judgment against your evil work has not been 
 executed hitherto ; the floods of God's vengeance have 
 been withheld ; but your guilt in the meantime is 
 constantly increasing, and you are every day treasur- 
 ing up more wrath ; the waters are continually rising 
 and waxing more and more mighty ; and there is 
 nothing but the mere pleasure of God that holds 
 the waters back, that are unwilling to be stopped and 
 press hard to go forward. If God should only with- 
 draw his hand from the floodgate, it would immedi- 
 ately fly open, and the fiery floods of the fierceness 
 and wrath of God would rush forth with inconceiva- 
 ble fury, and would come upon you with omnipotent 
 power ; and, if your strength were ten thousand 
 times greater than it is, yea, ten thousand times 
 greater than the strength of the stoutest, sturdiest 
 devil in hell, it would be nothing to withstand or 
 endure it. 
 
 The bow of God's wrath is bent, and the arrow 
 made ready on the string, and justice bends the arrow 
 at your heart and strains the bow, and it is nothing 
 but the mere pleasure of God, and that of an angry 
 God, without any promise or obligation at all, that 
 keeps the arrow one moment from being made drunk 
 with your blood. 
 
 Thus are all you that never passed under a great 
 change of heart by the mighty power of the Spirit of 
 God upon your souls ; all that were never born 
 again, and made new creatures, and raised from being 
 
176 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 dead in sin to a state of new, and before altogether 
 unexperienced, light and life (however you may have 
 reformed your life in many things, and may have had 
 religious affections, and may keep up a form of reli- 
 gion in your families and closets, and in the houses 
 of God, and may be strict in it) , you are thus in the 
 hands of an angry God ; it is nothing but his mere 
 oleasure that keeps you from being this moment 
 swallowed up in everlasting destruction. 
 
 However unconvinced you may now be of the 
 truth of what you hear, by-and-by you will be fully 
 convinced of it. Those that are gone from being in 
 the like circumstances with you, see that it was so 
 with them : for destruction came suddenly upon most 
 of them ; when they expected nothing of it, and 
 while they were saying, Peace and safety : now they 
 see that those things that they depended on for peace 
 and safety were nothing but thin air and empty 
 shadows. 
 
 The God that holds you over the pit of hell, much 
 as one holds a spider, or some loathsome insect, over 
 the fire, abhors you and is dreadfully provoked ; his 
 wrath towards you burns like fire ; he looks upon you 
 as worthy of nothing else but to be cast into the fire ; 
 he is of purer eyes than to bear to have you in his 
 sight ; you are ten thousand times so abominable in 
 his eyes, as the most hateful and venomous serpent is 
 in ours. You have offended him infinitely more 
 than ever a stubborn rebel did his prince : and yet it 
 is nothing but his hand that holds you from falling 
 into the fire every moment : it is ascribed to nothing 
 else that you did not go to hell last night ; that you 
 were suffered to awake again in this world, after you 
 
IN THE HANDS OF AN ANGRY GOD. 177 
 
 closed your eyes to sleep ; and there is no other 
 reason to be given why you have not dropped into 
 hell since you arose in the morning, but that God's 
 hand has held you up : there is no other reason to be 
 given why you have not gone to hell, since you have 
 sat here in the house of God, provoking his pure 
 eyes by your sinful wicked manner of attending his 
 solemn worship : yea, there is nothing else that is to 
 be given as a reason why you do not this very mo- 
 ment drop down into hell. 
 
 O sinner ! consider the fearful danger you are in : 
 it is a great furnace of wrath, a wide and bottomless 
 pit, full of the fire of wrath, that you are held over 
 in the hand of that God, whose wrath is provoked 
 and incensed as much against you, as against many 
 of the damned in hell : you hang by a slender thread, 
 with the flames of divine wrath flashing about it, and 
 ready every moment to singe it and burn it asunder ; 
 and you have no interest in any Mediator, and noth- 
 ing to lay hold of to save yourself, nothing to keep 
 off the flames of wrath, nothing of your own, noth- 
 ing that you ever have done, nothing that you can 
 do, to induce God to spare you one moment. . . . 
 
 How awful are those words, Isaiah lxiii. 3, which 
 are the words of the great God : " I will tread them 
 in my anger, and trample them in my fury, and their 
 blood shall be sprinkled upon my garments, and I 
 will stain all my raiment." It is perhaps impossible 
 to conceive of words that carry in them greater 
 manifestations of these three things, viz., contempt 
 and hatred, and fierceness of indignation. If you 
 cry to God to pity you, he will be so far from pity- 
 ing you in your doleful case, or showing you the 
 
178 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 least regard or favor, that instead of that he will 
 only tread you under foot : and though he will know 
 that you cannot bear the weight of omnipotence 
 treading upon you, yet he will not regard that, but 
 he will crush you under his feet without mercy ; he 
 will crush out your blood, and make it fly, and it 
 shall be sprinkled on his garments, so as to stain all 
 his raiment. He will not only hate you, but he will 
 have you in the utmost contempt ; no place shall be 
 thought fit for you but under his feet, to be trodden 
 down as the mire in the streets. 
 
 Thus it will be with you that are in an uncon- 
 verted state, if you continue in it ; the infinite might, 
 and majesty, and terribleness, of the Omnipotent 
 God shall be magnified upon you in the ineffable 
 strength of your torments : you shall be tormented in 
 the presence of the holy angels, and in the presence 
 of the Lamb ; and, when you shall be in this state of 
 suffering, the glorious inhabitants of heaven shall go 
 forth and look on the awful spectacle, that they may 
 see what the wrath and fierceness of the Almighty is ; 
 and when they have seen it, they will fall down and 
 adore that great power and majesty. " And it shall 
 come to pass, that from one moon to another, and 
 from one Sabbath to another, shall all flesh come to 
 worship before me, saith the Lord. And they shall 
 go forth and look upon the carcasses of the men that 
 have transgressed against me ; for their worm shall 
 not die, neither shall their fire be quenched, and they 
 shall be an abhorring unto all flesh." 
 
 It is everlasting wrath. It would be dreadful to 
 suffer this fierceness and wrath of Almighty God one 
 
IN THE HANDS OF AN ANGRY GOD. 1 79 
 
 moment ; but you must suffer it to all eternity : there 
 will be no end to this exquisite, horrible misery : 
 when you look forward you shall see a long forever, 
 a boundless duration before you, which will swallow 
 up your thoughts and amaze your soul ; and you will 
 absolutely despair of ever having any deliverance, any 
 end, any mitigation, any rest at all ; you will know 
 certainly that you must wear out long ages, millions 
 and millions of ages, in wrestling and conflicting with 
 this Almighty merciless vengeance ; and then, when 
 you have so done, when so many ages have actually 
 been spent by you in this manner, you will know 
 that all is but a point to what remains. So that 
 your punishment will indeed be infinite. Oh, who 
 can express what the state of a soul in such circum- 
 stances is ! All that we can possibly say about it 
 gives but a very feeble, faint representation of it ; it 
 is inexpressible and inconceivable : for (< who knows 
 the power of God's anger ? " 
 
 How dreadful is the state of those that are daily 
 and hourly in danger of this great wrath and infinite 
 misery ! But this is the dismal case of every soul in 
 this congregation that has not been born again, how- 
 ever moral and strict, sober and religious, they may 
 otherwise be. Oh, that you would consider it, 
 whether you be young or old ! There is reason to 
 think that there are many in this congregation, now 
 hearing this discourse, that will actually be the sub- 
 jects of this very misery to all eternity. We know 
 not who they are, or in what seats they sit, or what 
 thoughts they now have. It may be they are now at 
 ease, and hear all these things without much disturb- 
 ance, and are now flattering themselves that they are 
 
l8o JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 not the persons ; promising themselves that they shall 
 escape. If we knew that there was one person, and 
 but one, in the whole congregation, that was to be 
 the subject of this misery, what an awful thing it 
 would be to think of! If we knew who it was, 
 what an awful sight would it be to see such a person ! 
 How might all the rest of the congregation lift up a 
 lamentable and bitter cry over him ! But alas ! In- 
 stead of one, how many is it likely will remember 
 this discourse in hell ! And it would be a wonder, 
 if some that are now present should not be in hell in 
 a very short time, before this year is out. And it 
 would be no wonder if some persons, that now sit 
 here in some seats of this meeting-house in health, 
 and quiet and secure, should be there before to-morrow 
 morning. 
 
 "THE SIGHT OF HELL TORMENTS 
 WILL EXALT THE HAPPINESS OF THE 
 SAINTS." 
 
 [From Sermon XI. «< The Eternity of Hell 
 Torments."] 
 
 The sight of hell torments will exalt the happiness 
 of the saints forever. It will not only make them 
 more sensible of the greatness and freeness of the 
 grace of God in their happiness ; but it will really 
 make their happiness the greater, as it will make them 
 more sensible of their own happiness ; it will give 
 them a more lively relish of it ; it will make them 
 
THE FAREWELL SERMON. l8l 
 
 prize it more. When they see others, who were of 
 the same nature, and born under the same circum- 
 stances, plunged in such misery, and they so distin- 
 guished, O it will make them sensible how happy they 
 are. A sense of the opposite misery, in all cases, 
 greatly increases the relish of any joy or pleasure. 
 
 The sight of the wonderful power, the great and 
 dreadful majesty, and awful justice and holiness of 
 God, manifested in the eternal punishment of ungodly 
 men, will make them prize his favor and love vastly 
 the more ; and they will be so much the more happy 
 in the enjoyment of it. 
 
 FROM THE FAREWELL SERMON. 
 [Preached at Northampton, June 22, 1750.] 
 
 My parting with you is in some respects in a pecul- 
 iar manner a melancholy parting ; inasmuch as I leave 
 you in most melancholy circumstances ; because I 
 leave you in the gall of bitterness, and bond of in- 
 iquity, having the wrath of God abiding on you, and 
 remaining under condemnation to everlasting misery 
 and destruction. Seeing I must leave you, it would 
 have been a comfortable and happy circumstance of 
 our parting, if I had left you in Christ, safe and 
 blessed in that sure refuge and glorious rest of the 
 saints. But it is otherwise. I leave you far off, 
 aliens and strangers, wretched subjects and captives of 
 sin and Satan, and prisoners of vindictive justice ; 
 without Christ, and without God in the world. 
 
 Your consciences bear me witness, that while I had 
 
182 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 opportunity, I have not ceased to warn you, and set 
 before you your danger. I have studied to represent 
 the misery and necessity of your circumstances in the 
 clearest manner possible. I have tried all ways that 
 I could think of tending to awaken your consciences, 
 and make you sensible of the necessity of your im- 
 proving your time, and being speedy in flying from 
 the wrath to come, and thorough in the use of means 
 for your escape and safety. I have diligently endeav- 
 ored to find out and use the most powerful motives 
 to persuade you to take care for your own welfare and 
 salvation. I have not only endeavored to awaken 
 you, that you might be moved with fear, but I have 
 used my utmost endeavors to win you : I have sought 
 out acceptable words, that if possible I might prevail 
 upon you to forsake sin, and turn to God, and accept 
 of Christ as your Saviour and Lord. I have spent 
 my strength very much in these things. But yet, 
 with regard to you whom I am novv speaking to, I 
 have not been successful ; but have this day reason to 
 complain in those words, Jer. 6:29: " The bellows 
 are burnt, the lead is consumed of the fire, the founder 
 melteth in vain, for the wicked are not plucked away." 
 It is to be feared that all my labors, as to many of 
 you, have served no other purpose but to harden you ; 
 and that the word which I have preached, instead of 
 being a savor of life unto life, has been a savor of 
 death unto death. Though I shall not have any 
 account to give for the future of such as have openly 
 and resolutely renounced my ministry, as of a betrust- 
 ment committed to me : yet remember you must give 
 account for yourselves, of your care of your own 
 souls, and your improvement of all means past and 
 
THE FAREWELL SERMON. 1 83 
 
 future, through your whole lives. God only knows 
 what will become of your poor perishing souls, what 
 means you may hereafter enjoy, or what disadvantages 
 and temptations you may be under. May God in 
 his mercy grant, that however all past means have 
 been unsuccessful, you may have future means which 
 may have a new effect ; and that the word of God, 
 as it shall be hereafter dispensed to you, may prove 
 as the fire and the hammer that breaketh the rock in 
 pieces. However, let me now at parting exhort and 
 beseech you not wholly to forget the warnings you 
 have had while under my ministry. When you and 
 I shall meet at the day of judgment, then you will 
 remember them : the sight of me, your former min- 
 ister, on that occasion, will soon revive them to your 
 memory : and that in a very affecting manner. O 
 do not let that be the first time that they are so 
 revived. 
 
 You and I are now parting one from another as to 
 this world ; let us labor that we may not be parted 
 after our meeting at the last day. If I have been 
 your faithful pastor (which will that day appear 
 whether I have or no) then I shall be acquitted, and 
 shall ascend with Christ. O do your part that in 
 such a case, it may not be so, that you should be 
 forced eternally to part from me, and all that have 
 been faithful in Christ Jesus. This is a sorrowful 
 parting that now is between you and me, but that 
 would be a more sorrowful parting to you than this. 
 This you may perhaps bear without being much af- 
 fected with it, if you are not glad of it ; but such a 
 parting in that day will most deeply, sensibly, and 
 dreadfully affect you. 
 
184 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 THE CLOSE OF THE FAREWELL 
 SERMON. 
 
 Having briefly mentioned these important articles 
 of advice, nothing remains, but that I now take my 
 leave of you, and bid you all farewell ; wishing and 
 praying for your best prosperity. I would now com- 
 mend your irmnortal souls to Him, who formerly 
 committed them to me, expecting the day, when 1 
 must meet you before Him, who is the Judge of quick 
 and dead. I desire that I may never forget this peo- 
 ple, who have been so long my special charge, and 
 that I may never cease fervently to pray for your 
 prosperity. May God bless you with a faithful 
 pastor, one that is well acquainted with his mind and 
 will, thoroughly warning sinners, wisely and skill- 
 fully searching professors, and conducting you in the 
 way to eternal blessedness. May you have truly a 
 burning and shining light set up in this candlestick ; 
 and may you, not only for a season, but during his 
 whole life, and that a long life, be willing to rejoice 
 in his light. 
 
 And let me be remembered in the prayers of all 
 God's people that are of a calm spirit, and are peace- 
 able and faithful in Israel, of whatever opinion they 
 may be with respect to terms of church communion. 
 
 And let us all remember, and never forget our 
 future solemn meeting on that great day of the Lord ; 
 the day of infallible decision, and of the everlasting 
 and unalterable sentence. Amen. 
 
THE MEANING OF LIBERTY. 1 85 
 
 THE MEANING OF LIBERTY. 
 [From "Freedom of the Will." 1754.] 
 
 The plain and obvious meaning of the words 
 Freedom and Liberty, in common speech, is power y 
 opportunity, or advantage that any one has, to do as 
 he pleases. Or, in other words, his being free from 
 hindrance or impediment in the way of doing, or 
 conducting in any respect, as he wills. (I say not 
 only doing, but conducting ; because a voluntary 
 forbearing to do, sitting still, keeping silence, etc., 
 are instances of persons' conduct, about which Liberty 
 is exercised ; though they are not so properly called 
 doing). And the contrary to Liberty, whatever 
 name we call that by, is a person's being hindered 
 or unable to conduct as he will, or being necessitated 
 to do otherwise. 
 
 If this which I have mentioned be the meaning of 
 the word Liberty, in the ordinary use of language ; 
 as I trust that none that has ever learned to talk, and 
 is unprejudiced, will deny : then it will follow that 
 in propriety of speech neither Liberty, nor its con- 
 trary, can properly be ascribed to any being or thing, 
 but that which has such a faculty, power or property, 
 as is called will. For that which is possessed of no 
 such thing as will, cannot have any power or oppor- 
 tunity of doing according to its will, nor be necessi- 
 tated to act contrary to its will, nor be restrained from 
 acting agreeably to it. And therefore to talk of 
 Liberty, or the contrary, as belonging to the very 
 will itself, is not to speak good sense ; if we judge 
 
I 86 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 of sense, and nonsense, by the original and proper 
 signification of words. For the will itself is not an 
 agent that has a will : the power of choosing itself, 
 has not a power of choosing. That which has 
 the power of volition or choice is the man or the 
 soul, and not the power of volition itself. And he 
 that has the Liberty of doing according to his will, 
 is the agent or doer who is possessed of the will ; 
 and not the will which he is possessed of. We say 
 with propriety, that a bird let loose has power and 
 Liberty to fly ; but not that the bird's power of 
 flying has a power and Liberty of flying. To be 
 free is the property of an agent, who is possessed of 
 powers and faculties, as much as to be cunning, valiant, 
 bountiful, or zealous. But these qualities are the 
 properties of men or persons and not the properties 
 of properties. 
 
 There are two things that are contrary to this 
 which is called Liberty in common speech. One is 
 constraint ; the same is otherwise called force, com- 
 pulsion, and coaction ; which is a person's being 
 necessitated to do a thing contrary to his will. The 
 other is restraint ; which is his being hindered, and 
 not having power to do according to his will. But 
 that which has no will, cannot be the subject of these 
 things. I need say the less on this head, Mr. Locke 
 having set the same thing forth, with so great clear- 
 ness, in his Essay on the Human Understanding. 
 
 But one thing more I would observe concerning 
 what is vulgarly called Liberty ; namely, that power 
 and opportunity for one to do and conduct as he will, 
 or according to his choice, is all that is meant by it ; 
 without taking into the meaning of the word any- 
 
INSUFFICIENCY OF HUMAN WISDOM. I 87 
 
 thing of the cause or original of that choice ; or at 
 all considering how the person came to have such a 
 volition ; whether it was caused by some external 
 motive or internal habitual bias ; whether it was 
 determined by some internal antecedent volition, or 
 whether it happened without a cause ; whether it was 
 necessarily connected with something foregoing, or 
 not connected. Let the person come by his volition 
 or choice how he will, yet, if he is able, and there 
 is nothing in the way to hinder his pursuing and exe- 
 cuting his will, the man is fully and perfectly free, 
 according to the primary and common notion of 
 freedom. 
 
 THE INSUFFICIENCY OF HUMAN 
 WISDOM. 
 
 [From "The Work of Redemption." Part II. 
 Section 1. Pub. 1793.] 
 
 God in his providence now seems to be acting 
 over again the same part which he did a little time 
 before Christ came. The age wherein Christ came 
 into the world, was an age wherein learning greatly 
 prevailed, and was at a greater height than ever it 
 had been before ; and yet wickedness never prevailed 
 more than then. God was pleased to suffer human 
 learning to come to such a height before he sent forth 
 the gospel into the world, that the world might see 
 the insufficiency of all their own wisdom for the 
 obtaining the knowledge of God, without the gospel 
 of Christ, and the teachings of his Spirit : and when, 
 after that, in the wisdom of God, the world by 
 
I 88 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 
 
 wisdom knew not God, it pleased God, by the 
 foolishness of preaching, to save them that believe. 
 And when the gospel came to prevail first without 
 the help of man's wisdom, then God was pleased to 
 make use of learning as a handmaid. So now learn- 
 ing is at a great height at this day in the world, far 
 beyond what it was in the age when Christ appeared : 
 and now the world, by their learning and wisdom, 
 do not know God ; and they seem to wander in 
 darkness, are miserably deluded, stumble and fall in 
 matters of religion, as in midnight darkness. Trust- 
 ing to their learning, they grope in the day-time as 
 at night. Learned men are exceedingly divided in 
 their opinions concerning the matters of religion, run 
 into all manner of corrupt opinions, pernicious and 
 foolish errors. They scorn to submit their reason 
 to divine revelation, to believe anything that is above 
 their comprehension ; and so, being wise in their 
 own eyes, they become fools, and even vain in their 
 imaginations, and turn the truth of God into a lie, 
 and their foolish hearts are darkened. See Rom. 1:21. 
 But yet, when God has sufficiently shown men 
 the insufficiency of human wisdom and learning for 
 the purposes of religion, and when the appointed 
 time comes for that glorious outpouring of the Spirit 
 of God, when he will himself, by his own immediate 
 influence enlighten men's minds ; then may we hope 
 that God will make use of the great increase of learn- 
 ing as a handmaid to religion, as a means of the 
 glorious advancement of the kingdom of his Son. 
 Then shall human learning be subservient to the 
 understanding of the Scriptures, and to a clear ex- 
 planation and a glorious defence of the doctrines of 
 
INSUFFICIENCY OF HUMAN WISDOM. 1 89 
 
 Christianity. And there is no doubt to be made of 
 it, that God in his providence has of late given the 
 world the art of printing, and such a great increase 
 of learning, to prepare for what he designs to ac- 
 complish for his church in the approaching days of 
 its prosperity. And thus the wealth of the wicked 
 is laid up for the just, agreeable to Prov. 13 : 22. 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 Benjamin Franklin requires no extended biographi- 
 cal notice here. It is not the diplomat that concerns 
 us, but the representative of the eighteenth-century 
 spirit as it shows itself in the social activities of the 
 colonial printer. Franklin was born in Boston, 
 January 17, 1706, and apprenticed there to his 
 brother, a printer. But he ran away at seventeen, 
 and, thrown quite on his own resources in Philadel- 
 phia, rose by native shrewdness and energy, attracted 
 patronage, was sent to London ( 1724), readily found 
 employment there, returned to Philadelphia in 1726, 
 resumed his trade as printer, soon started in business 
 for himself, and in 1729 purchased the moribund 
 Pennsylvania Gazette which, by industry and good 
 sense, he put at the head of American journals. In 
 1 73 1 he established the first American circulating 
 library, in 1732 he published the first of Poor 
 Richard's Almanacs, which, in the course of a 
 quarter of a century attained a marvellous popularity. 
 In 1736 he was chosen clerk of the General Assem- 
 bly, of which he was a member from 1738 to 1748. 
 In 1737 he was made deputy Postmaster at Philadel- 
 phia. Constantly occupied for the public welfare, he 
 organized the first police force and fire company in 
 the colonies, initiated the foundation of the University 
 190 
 
BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 191 
 
 of Pennsylvania, of the American Philosophical So- 
 ciety, and of the Pennsylvania Hospital. Indeed he 
 initiated or furthered nearly every project of munici- 
 pal improvement in the Philadelphia of his generation, 
 acquiring meantime familiarity with French, Italian, 
 Spanish, and Latin, and making important discoveries 
 in electricity, which attracted attention first in France, 
 then in England. At the time of the French War 
 (1754) Franklin was the most important man in 
 Pennsylvania, and its representative in a colonial con- 
 gress, to which he submitted a scheme for united 
 action which, though not adopted, was most impor- 
 tant as a precedent. He assisted General Braddock, 
 though with forebodings of his defeat ; was sent as 
 colonial agent to_ England (1757), where he re- 
 mained until 1762, except for protracted visits to the 
 Continent. He again visited England as colonial 
 agent in 1764, and remained there until 1775. On 
 his return he was immediately elected delegate to the 
 Continental Congress, and sent in 1776 to France to 
 solicit the aid of Louis XVI. Here he remained un- 
 til 1785 ; then for three years he was President of 
 Pennsylvania, and, until his death on the 17th of 
 April, 1790, continued to give himself to public activi- 
 ties, of which the most noteworthy was the organiza- 
 tion of the first society for the abolition of slavery. 
 Though not primarily a man of letters, Franklin is the 
 greatest of our colonial writers, and one of the great- 
 est of all American authors. His Autobiography is 
 a classic ; and his political wisdom, his rare common- 
 sense, his balanced sanity, his engaging humor, his 
 scientific discoveries, are all many-faceted revelations 
 of a fascinating and great character, more typical per- 
 
192 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 haps of his century than of his race or country, though 
 he was thoroughly American, and an ideal citizen. 
 It is to illustrate this social aspect of his genius that 
 our extracts, in the main, have been chosen. 
 
 FIRST ENTRY INTO PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 ... I was in my working dress, my best clothes 
 being to come round by sea. I was dirty from my 
 journey ; my pockets were stuffed out with shirts and 
 stockings, and I knew no soul, nor where to look for 
 lodging. I was fatigued with traveling, rowing, and 
 want of rest ; I was very hungry ; and my whole 
 stock of cash consisted of a Dutch dollar and about a 
 shilling in copper. The latter I gave the people of 
 the boat for my passage, who at first refused it, on 
 account of my rowing ; but I insisted on their taking 
 it, a man being sometimes more generous when he 
 has but a little money than when he has plenty, per- 
 haps through fear of being thought to have but little. 
 
 Then I walked up the street, gazing about, till 
 near the market house I met a boy with bread. I 
 had made many a meal on bread, and, inquiring 
 where he got it, I went immediately to the baker's 
 he directed me to, in Second Street, and asked for 
 biscuit, intending such as we had in Boston ; but 
 they, it seems, were not made in Philadelphia. 
 Then I asked for a threepenny loaf, and was told 
 they had none such. So not considering or knowing 
 the difference of money and the greater cheapness, 
 nor the names of his bread, I bade him give me 
 threepenny worth of any sort. He gave me, accord- 
 
EXPANDING THE CURRENCY. 1 93 
 
 ingly, three great puffy rolls. I was surprised at the 
 quantity, but took it, and, having no room in my 
 pockets, walked off with a roll under each arm, and 
 eating the other. Thus I went up Market Street as 
 far as Fourth Street, passing by the door of Mr. Read, 
 my future wife's father ; when she, standing at the 
 door, saw me, and thought I made, as I certainly 
 did, a most awkward, ridiculous appearance. Then 
 I turned and went down Chestnut Street and part of 
 Walnut Street, eating my roll all the way, and, com- 
 ing round, found myself again at Market Street wharf, 
 near the boat I came in, to which I went for a 
 draught of the river water ; and, being filled with one 
 of my rolls, gave the other two to a woman and her 
 child that came down the river in the boat with us, 
 and were waiting to go farther. 
 
 EXPANDING THE CURRENCY. 
 
 1729. About this time there was a cry among 
 the people for more paper money, only fifteen thou- 
 sand pounds being extant in the province, and that 
 soon to be sunk. The wealthy inhabitants opposed 
 any addition, being against all paper currency, from 
 an apprehension that it would depreciate, as it had 
 done in New England, to the prejudice of all credi- 
 tors. We had discussed this point in our Junto, 
 where I was on the side of an addition, being per- 
 suaded that the first small sum struck in 1723 had 
 done much good by increasing the trade, employ- 
 ment, and number of inhabitants in the province, since 
 I now saw all the old houses inhabited and many new 
 
194 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 ones building ; whereas, I remembered well that when 
 I first walked about the streets of Philadelphia, eating 
 my roll, I saw most of the houses in Walnut Street, 
 between Second and Front Streets, with bills on their 
 doors, u To be Let : " and many likewise in Chest- 
 nut Street and other streets, which made me then 
 think the inhabitants of the city were deserting it one 
 after another. 
 
 Our debates possessed me so fully of the subject 
 that I wrote and printed an anonymous pamphlet on 
 it, entitled, " The Nature and Necessity of a Paper 
 Currency." It was well received by the common 
 people in general ; but the rich men dislike it, for it 
 increased and strengthened the clamor for more money, 
 and they, happening to have no writers among them 
 that were able to answer it, their opposition slack- 
 ened, and the point was carried by a majority in the 
 House. My friends there, who conceived I had been 
 of some service, thought fit to reward me by employ- 
 ing me in printing the money, — a very profitable 
 job and a great help to me. This was another ad- 
 vantage gained by my being able to write. 
 
 The utility of this currency became by time and 
 experience so evident as never afterward to be much 
 disputed ; so that it grew soon to fifty-five thousand 
 pounds, and in 1739 to eighty thousand pounds, since 
 which it rose during war to upward of three hundred 
 and fifty thousand pounds, trade, building, and inhab- 
 itants all the while increasing, though I now think 
 there are limits, beyond which the quantity may be 
 hurtful. 
 
FIRST CIRCULATING LIBRARY. 1 95 
 
 A COLONIAL POST-OFFICE. 
 
 1729. There remained now no competitor with 
 me at Philadelphia but the old one, Bradford, who 
 was rich and easy, did a little printing now and then 
 by straggling hands, but was not very anxious about 
 the business. However, as he kept the post office, 
 it was imagined he had better opportunities of obtain- 
 ing news. His paper was thought a better distributer 
 of advertisements than mine, and therefore had many 
 more, which was a profitable thing to him, and a dis- 
 advantage to me ; for, though I did indeed receive 
 and send papers by post, yet the public opinion was 
 otherwise, for what I did send was by bribing the 
 riders, who took them privately, Bradford being un- 
 kind enough to forbid it, which occasioned some re- 
 sentment on my part ; and I thought so meanly of 
 him for it that, when I afterward came into his situa- 
 tion, I took care never to imitate it. 
 
 ORGANIZING THE FIRST CIRCULATING 
 LIBRARY. 
 
 1 730. At the time I established myself in Pennsyl- 
 vania there was not a good bookseller's shop in any of 
 the colonies to the southward of Boston. In New York 
 and Philadelphia the printers were indeed stationers ; 
 they sold only paper, etc., almanacs, ballads, and a 
 few common schoolbooks. Those who loved reading 
 were obliged to send for their books from England ; 
 
I96 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 the members of the Junto had each a few. We had 
 left the alehouse where we first met, and hired a room 
 to hold our club in. I proposed that we should 
 all of us bring our books to that room, where 
 they would not only be ready to consult in our con- 
 ferences, but become a common benefit, each of us 
 being at liberty to borrow such as he wished to read 
 at home. This was accordingly done, and for some 
 time contented us. 
 
 Finding the advantage of this little collection, I 
 proposed to render the benefit from books more 
 common by commencing a public subscription library. 
 I drew a sketch of the plan and rules that would be 
 necessary, and got a skillful conveyancer, Mr. Charles 
 Brockden, to put the whole in form of articles of 
 agreement to be subscribed, by which each subscriber 
 engaged to pay a certain sum down for the first pur- 
 chase of books, and an annual contribution for increas- 
 ing them. So few were the readers at that time in 
 Philadelphia, and the majority of us so poor, that I 
 was not able, with great industry, to find more than 
 fifty persons, mostly young tradesmen, willing to pay 
 down for this purpose forty shillings each and ten 
 shillings per annum. 
 
 On this little fund we began. The books were 
 imported ; the library was opened one day in the 
 week for lending to the subscribers, on their prom- 
 issory notes to pay double the value if not duly 
 returned. The institution soon manifested its utility, 
 was imitated by other towns and in other provinces. 
 The libraries were augmented by donations ; reading 
 became fashionable ; and our people, having no public 
 amusements to divert their attention from study, became 
 
FIRST CIRCULATING LIBRARY. 197 
 
 better acquainted with books, and in a few years were 
 observed by strangers to be better instructed and more 
 intelligent than people of the same rank generally are 
 in other countries. 
 
 When we were about to sign the above-mentioned 
 articles, which were to be binding on us, our heirs, 
 etc., for fifty years, Mr. Brockden, the scrivener, said 
 to us : '* You are young men, but it is scarcely prob- 
 able that any of you will live to see the expiration of 
 the term fixed in the instrument." A number of us, 
 however, are yet living ; but the instrument was, after 
 a few years, [1742.] rendered null by a charter that 
 incorporated and gave perpetuity to the company. 
 
 The objections and reluctances I met with in solicit- 
 ing the subcriptions made me soon feel the impropriety 
 of presenting one's self as the proposer of any useful 
 project that might be supposed to raise one's reputation 
 in the smallest degree above that of one's neighbors, 
 when one has need of their assistance to accomplish 
 that project. I therefore put myself as much as I 
 could out of sight, and stated it as a scheme of a 
 "number of friends," who had requested me to go 
 about and propose.it to such as they thought lovers of 
 reading. In this way my affair went on more smoothly, 
 and I ever after practiced it on such occasions, and, 
 from my frequent successes, can heartily recommend 
 it. The present little sacrifice of your vanity will 
 afterward be amply repaid. If it remains awhile un- 
 certain to whom the merit belongs, some one more vain 
 than yourself will be encouraged to claim it, and then 
 even envy will be disposed to do you justice by pluck- 
 ing those assumed feathers, and restoring them to their 
 right owner. 
 
198 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 This library afforded me the means of improvement 
 by constant study, for which I set apart an hour or 
 two each day, and thus repaired in some degree the 
 loss of the learned education my father once intended 
 for me. Reading was the only amusement I allowed 
 myself. 
 
 THE DOMESTIC FRANKLIN. 
 
 We have an English proverb that says, '« He that 
 would thrive must ask his wife." It was lucky for 
 me that I had one as much disposed to industry and 
 frugality as myself. She assisted me cheerfully in my 
 business, folding and stitching pamphlets, tending shop, 
 purchasing old linen rags for the paper makers, etc. 
 We kept no idle servants, our table was plain and 
 simple, our furniture of the cheapest. For instance, 
 my breakfast was a long time bread and milk (no tea), 
 and I ate it out of a two-penny earthen porringer, 
 with a pewter spoon. But mark how luxury will 
 enter families and make a progress in spite of principle. 
 Being called one morning to breakfast, I found it in a 
 china bowl with a spoon of silver ! They had been 
 bought for me without my knowledge by my wife, and 
 had cost her the enormous sum of three-and-twenty 
 shillings, for which she had no other excuse or apology 
 to make but that she thought her husband deserved a 
 silver spoon and a china bowl as well as any of his 
 neighbors. This was the first appearance of plate 
 and china in our house, which afterward, in a course 
 of years, as our wealth increased, augmented gradually 
 to several hundred pounds in value. 
 
FRANKLIN'S RELIGION. 1 99 
 
 FRANKLIN'S RELIGION. 
 
 I had been religiously educated as a Presbyterian; 
 and, though I early absented myself from the public 
 assemblies of the. sect, Sunday being my studying day, 
 I never was without some religious principles. I never 
 doubted, for instance, the existence of the Deity ; that 
 he made the world, and governed it by his providence ; 
 that the most acceptable service of God was the doing 
 good to man ; that our souls are immortal ; and that 
 all crime will be punished, and virtue rewarded, either 
 here or hereafter. These I esteemed the essentials 
 of every religion ; and being to be found in all the 
 religions we had in our country, I respected them all, 
 though with different degrees of respect as I found 
 them more or less mixed with other articles which, 
 without any tendency to inspire, promote, or con- 
 firm morality, served principally to divide us, and 
 make us unfriendly to one another. This respect to 
 all, with an opinion that the worst had some good 
 effects, induced me to avoid all discourse that might 
 tend to lessen the good opinion another might have 
 of his own religion ; and as our province increased in 
 people, and new places of worship were continually 
 wanted, and generally erected by voluntary contribu- 
 tion, my mite for such purpose, whatever might be 
 the sect, was never refused. 
 
 Though I seldom attended any public worship, I 
 had still an opinion of its propriety and of its utility 
 when rightly conducted, and I regularly paid my 
 annual subscription for the support of the only Pres- 
 byterian minister or meeting we had in Philadelphia. 
 
200 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 He used to visit me sometimes as a friend, and ad- 
 monish me to attend his administrations, and I was 
 now and then prevailed on to do so, once for five 
 Sundays successively. Had he been in my opinion 
 a good preacher, perhaps I might have continued, 
 notwithstanding the occasion I had for the Sunday's 
 leisure in my course of study ; but his discourses were 
 chiefly either polemic arguments or explications of the 
 peculiar doctrines of our sect, and were all to me very 
 dry, uninteresting, and unedifying, since not a single 
 moral principle was inculcated or enforced/their aim 
 seeming to be rather to make us Presbyterians than 
 good citizens.,. 
 
 At length he took for his text that verse of the 
 fourth chapter of Philippians : '* Finally, brethren, 
 whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are 
 honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things 
 are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever 
 things are of good report ; if there be any virtue, and 
 if there be any praise, think on these things ; " and I 
 imagined, in a sermon on such a text, we could not 
 miss of having some morality. But he confined him- 
 self to five points only, as meant by the apostle : 
 I. Keeping holy the Sabbath day. 2. Being dili- 
 gent in reading the holy Scriptures. 3. Attending 
 duly the public worship. 4. Partaking of the sacra- 
 ment. 5. Paying a due respect to God's ministers. 
 These might be all good things ; but, as they were 
 not the kind of good things that I expected from that 
 text, I despaired of ever meeting with them from any 
 other, was disgusted, and attended his preaching no 
 more. I had some years before composed a little 
 liturgy, or form of prayer, for my own private use 
 
THE ALMANACS. 201 
 
 [in 1728], entitled "Articles of Belief and Acts of 
 Religion." I returned to the use of this, and went 
 no more to the public assemblies. My conduct might 
 be blamable, but I leave it without attempting further 
 to excuse it, my present purpose being to relate facts, 
 and not to make apologies for them. 
 
 THE ALMANACS. 
 
 In 1732 I first published my Almanac, under the 
 name of *« Richard Saunders ; " it was continued by 
 me about twenty-five years, and commonly called 
 " Poor Richard's Almanac." I endeavored to make 
 it both entertaining and useful, and it accordingly 
 came to be in such demand that I reaped considerable 
 profit from it, vending annually near ten thousand. 
 And observing that it was generally read, scarce any 
 neighborhood in the province being without it, I con- 
 sidered it as a proper vehicle for conveying instruction 
 among the common people, who bought scarcely any 
 other books. I therefore filled all the little spaces 
 that occurred between the remarkable days in the 
 calendar with proverbial sentences, chiefly such as 
 inculcated industry and frugality as the means of pro- 
 curing wealth, and thereby securing virtue ; it being 
 more difficult for a man in want to act always hon- 
 estly, as (to use here one of those proverbs), '* it is 
 hard for an empty sack to stand upright." 
 
 These proverbs, which contained the wisdom of 
 many ages and nations, I assembled and formed into 
 a connected discourse, prefixed to the Almanac of 
 
202 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 1757 as the harangue of a wise old man to the people 
 attending an auction. The bringing all these scat- 
 tered counsels thus into a focus enabled them to make 
 greater impression. The piece, being universally ap- 
 proved, was copied in all the newspapers of the Con- 
 tinent, reprinted in Britain on a broadside, to be stuck 
 up in houses, two translations were made of it in 
 French, and great numbers bought by the clergy and 
 gentry to distribute gratis among their poor parish- 
 ioners and tenants. In Pennsylvania, as it discour- 
 aged useless expense in foreign superfluities, some 
 thought it had its share of influence in producing that 
 growing plenty of money which was observable for 
 several years after its publication. 
 
 THE WAY TO WEALTH, 
 
 As CLEARLY SHOWN IN THE PREFACE OF AN OLD 
 
 Pennsylvania Almanac entitled f * Poor Rich- 
 ard Improved." 
 
 Courteous Reader : I have heard that nothing 
 gives an author so great pleasure as to find his works 
 respectfully quoted by other learned authors. This 
 pleasure I have seldom enjoyed ; for, though I have 
 been, if I may say it without vanity, an eminent 
 author (of almanacs) annually, now a full quarter of 
 a century, my brother authors in the same way, for 
 what reason I know not, have ever been very sparing 
 in their applauses and no other author has taken the 
 least notice of me ; so that, did not my writings pro- 
 
THE WAY TO WEALTH. 203 
 
 duce me some solid pudding, the great deficiency of 
 praise would have quite discouraged me. 
 
 I concluded at length that the people were the best 
 judges of my merit, for they buy my works ; and, 
 besides, in my rambles where I am not personally 
 known, I have frequently heard one or other of my 
 adages repeated with ** As Poor Richard says" at 
 the end of it. This gave me some satisfaction, as it 
 showed not only that my instructions were regarded, 
 but discovered likewise some respect for my authority ; 
 and I own that, to encourage the practice of remem- 
 bering and reading those wise sentences, I have some- 
 times quoted myself with great gravity. 
 
 Judge, then, how much I must have been gratified 
 by an incident I am going to relate to you. I stopped 
 my horse lately where a great number of people were 
 collected at an auction of merchants' goods. The 
 hour of the sale not being come, they were conversing 
 on the badness of the times ; and one of the com- 
 pany called to a plain, clean old man with white 
 locks, '* Pray, Father Abraham, what think you of 
 the times ? Will not these heavy taxes quite ruin the 
 country ? How shall we ever be able to pay them ? 
 What would you advise us to do?" Father Abra- 
 ham stood up and replied, " If you would have my 
 advice, I will give it to you in short ; for A word to 
 the wise is enough, as Poor Richard says." They 
 joined in desiring him to speak his mind, and gather- 
 ing around him, he proceeded as follows : 
 
 "Friends," said he, "the taxes -are indeed very 
 heavy, and if those laid on by the government were 
 the only ones we had to pay, we might more easily 
 discharge them ; but we have many others, and much 
 
204 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 more grievous to some of us. We are taxed twice 
 as much by our idleness, three times as much by our 
 pride, and four times as much by our folly ; and from 
 these taxes the commissioners cannot ease or deliver us 
 by allowing an abatement. However, let us hearken to 
 good advice, and something may be done for us ; God 
 helps them that help themselves, as Poor Richard says. 
 I. "It would be thought a hard government that 
 should tax its people one tenth part of their time, to 
 be employed in its service ; but idleness taxes many 
 of us much more ; sloth, by bringing on diseases, 
 absolutely shortens life. Sloth, like rust, consumes 
 faster than labor wears, while The used key is always 
 bright, as Poor Richard says. But dost thou love 
 life ? Then do not squander time, for that is the stuff 
 life is made of, as Poor Richard says. How much 
 more than is necessary do we spend in sleep, forget- 
 ting that the sleeping fox catches no poultry, and that 
 there will be sleeping enough in the grave, as Poor 
 Richard says. If time be of all things the most pre- 
 cious, wasting time must be, as Poor Richard says, 
 the greatest prodigality ; since, as he elsewhere tells 
 us, Lost time is never found again, and what we call 
 time enough always proves little enough. Let us, 
 then, be up and be doing, and doing to the purpose ; 
 so by diligence shall we do more with less perplexity. 
 Sloth makes all things difficult, but industry, all easy ; 
 and, He that riseth late must trot all day and shall 
 scarce overtake his business at night ; while Laziness 
 travels so slowly that Poverty soon overtakes him. 
 Drive thy business, let not that drive thee ; and, 
 Early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man healthy, 
 wealthy, and wise, as Poor Richard says. 
 
THE WAY TO WEALTH. 205 
 
 " So what signifies wishing and hoping for better 
 times ? We make these times better if we bestir our- 
 selves. Industry need not wish, and he that lives 
 upon hopes will die fasting. There are no gains 
 without pains ; then help, hands, for I have no lands ; 
 or, if I have, they are smartly taxed. He that hath 
 a trade hath an estate ; and he that hath a calling, 
 hath an office of profit and honor, as Poor Richard 
 says ; but then the trade must be worked at and the 
 calling followed, or neither the estate nor the office 
 will enable us to pay our taxes. If we are industri- 
 ous, we shall never starve ; for, At the workingman's 
 house hunger looks in, but dares not enter. Nor will 
 the bailiff or the constable enter ; for Industry pays 
 debts, while Despair increaseth them. What though 
 you have found no treasure, nor has any rich relation 
 left you a legacy ; Diligence is the mother of good 
 luck, and God gives all things to Industry. Then 
 plow deep while sluggards sleep, and you shall have 
 corn to sell and to keep. Work while it is called 
 to-day, for you know not how much you may be hin- 
 dered to-morrow. One to-day is worth two to-mor- 
 rows, as poor Richard says ; and, further, Never 
 leave that till to-morrow which you can do to-day. 
 If you were a good servant, would you not be 
 ashamed that a good master should catch you idle ? 
 Are you, then, your own master ? Be ashamed to 
 catch yourself idle, when there is so much to be done 
 for yourself, your family, your country, your kin. 
 Handle your tools without mittens ; remember that 
 The cat in gloves catches no mice, as Poor Richard 
 says. It is true there is much to be done, and per- 
 haps you are weak-handed ; but stick to it steadily, 
 
206 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 and you will see great effects ; for, Constant dropping 
 wears away stones ; and, By diligence and patience 
 the mouse ate in two the cable ; and, Little strokes 
 fell great oaks. 
 
 " Methinks I hear some of you say, Must a man 
 afford himself no leisure ? I will tell thee, my friend, 
 what Poor Richard says : Employ thy time well, if 
 thou meanest to gain leisure ; and since thou art not 
 sure of a minute, throw not away an hour. Leisure 
 is time for doing something useful ; this leisure the 
 diligent man will obtain, but the lazy man never ; for, 
 A life of leisure and a life of laziness are two things. 
 Many, without labor, would live by their wits only, 
 but they break for want of stock ; whereas industry 
 gives comfort and plenty and respect. Fly pleasures 
 and they will follow you. The diligent spinner has 
 a large shift ; and now I have a sheep and a cow, 
 every one bids me good morrow. 
 
 II. ( * But with our industry we must likewise be 
 steady and careful, and oversee our own affairs with 
 our own eyes, and not trust too much to others ; for, 
 as Poor Richard says : 
 
 I never saw an oft-removed tree, 
 
 Nor yet an oft-removed family, 
 
 That throve so well as those that settled be. 
 
 And again, Three removes are as bad as a fire ; and 
 again, Keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee ; 
 and again, If you would have your business done, 
 go ; if not, send ; and again : 
 
 He that by the plow would thrive, 
 Himself must either hold or drive. 
 
THE WAY TO WEALTH. 207 
 
 And again, The eye of the master will do more work 
 than both his hands ; and again, Want of care does 
 us more damage than want of knowledge ; and again, 
 Not to oversee workmen is to leave them your purse 
 open. Trusting too much to others' care is the ruin 
 of many ; for, In the affairs of this world men are 
 saved, not by faith, but by the want of it. But a 
 man's own care is profitable ; for, If you would have 
 a faithful servant and one that you like, serve your- 
 self. A little neglect may breed great mischief; 
 for want of a nail the shoe was lost, for want of a 
 shoe the horse was lost, and for want of a horse the 
 rider was lost, being overtaken and slain by the enemy ; 
 all for want of a little care about a horseshoe nail. 
 
 III. ** So much for industry, my friends, and 
 attention to one's own business ; but to these we 
 must add frugality, if we would make our industry- 
 more certainly successful. A man may, if he knows 
 not how to save as he gets, keep his nose all his life 
 to the grindstone, and die not worth a groat at last. 
 A fat kitchen makes a lean will ; and 
 
 Many estates are spent in the getting, 
 Since women forsook spinning and knitting, 
 And men for punch forsook hewing and splitting. 
 
 If you would be wealthy, think of saving as well as 
 of getting. The Indies have not made Spain rich, 
 because her outgoes are greater than her incomes. 
 " Away, then, with your expensive follies, and 
 you will not then have so much cause to complain of 
 hard times, heavy taxes, and chargeable families ; for 
 
 Pleasure and wine, game and deceit, 
 
 Make the wealth small, and the want great. 
 
208 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 And further, What maintains one vice would bring 
 up two children. You may think, perhaps, that a 
 little tea or a little punch now and then, diet a little 
 more costly, clothes a little finer, and a little enter- 
 tainment now and then, can be no great matter ; but 
 remember, Many a little makes a mickle. Beware 
 of little expenses ; A small leak will sink a great ship, 
 as Poor Richard says ; and again, Who dainties love 
 shall beggars prove ; and moreover, Fools make feasts 
 and wise men eat them. 
 
 " Here you are all got together at this sale of fin- 
 eries and knickknacks. You call them goods ; but, 
 if you do not take care, they will prove evils to some 
 of you. You expect they will be sold cheap, and 
 perhaps they may for less than they cost ; but, if you 
 have no occasion for them, they must be dear to you. 
 Remember what Poor Richard says : Buy what thou 
 hast no need of, and ere long thou shalt sell thy 
 necessaries. And again, At a great pennyworth 
 pause awhile. He means that perhaps the cheapness 
 is apparent only, and not real ; or, the bargain, by 
 straitening thee in thy business, may do thee more 
 harm than good. For in another place he says, Many 
 have been ruined by buying good pennyworths. Again, 
 It is foolish to lay out money in a purchase of repent- 
 ance ; and yet this folly is practiced every day at 
 auctions for want of minding the Almanac. Many 
 for the sake of finery on the back have gone hungry 
 and half-starved their families. Silks and satins, scar- 
 let and velvets, put out the kitchen fire, as Poor 
 Richard says. 
 
 "These are not the necessaries of life ; they can 
 scarcely be called the conveniences ; and yet, only 
 
THE WAY TO WEALTH. 209 
 
 because they look pretty, how many want to have 
 them. By these and other extravagances the genteel 
 are reduced to poverty, and forced to borrow of those 
 whom they formerly despised, but who, through in- 
 dustry and frugality, have maintained their standing ; 
 in which case it appears plainly that, A plowman on 
 his legs is higher than a gentleman on his knees, as 
 Poor Richard says. Perhaps they have a small estate 
 left them which they knew not the getting of ; they 
 think, It is day and it never will be night ; that a 
 little to be spent out of so much is not worth mind- 
 ing ; but, Always taking out of the meal tub and never 
 putting in, soon comes to the bottom, as Poor Rich- 
 ard says ; and then, When the well is dry, they 
 know the worth of water. But this they might 
 have known before, if they had taken his advice. If 
 you would know the value of money, go and try to 
 borrow some ; for, He that goes a-borrowing goes 
 a-sorrowing, as Poor Richard says ; and, indeed, so 
 does he that lends to such people, when he goes to 
 get it again. Poor Dick further advises and says : 
 
 Fond pride of dress is sure a very curse ; 
 Ere fancy you consult, consult your purse. 
 
 And again, Pride is as loud* a beggar as Want, and 
 a great deal more saucy. When you have bought 
 one fine thing, you must buy ten more, that your 
 appearance may be all of a piece ; but Poor Dick says, 
 It is easier to suppress the first desire than to satisfy 
 all that follow it. And it is as truly folly for the poor 
 to ape the rich, as for the frog to swell in order to 
 equal the ox. 
 
210 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 Vessels large may venture more, 
 
 But little boats should keep near shore. 
 
 It is, however, a folly soon punished ; for, as Poor 
 Richard says, Pride that dines on vanity, sups on 
 contempt. Pride breakfasted with Plenty, dined 
 with Poverty, and supped with Infamy. And, after 
 all, of what use is this pride of appearance, for which 
 so much is risked, so much is suffered ? It cannot 
 promote health nor ease pain ; it makes no increase 
 of merit in the person ; it creates envy ; it hastens 
 misfortune. 
 
 " But what madness must it be to run in debt for 
 these superfluities ? We are offered by the terms of 
 this sale six months' credit ; and that, perhaps, has 
 induced some of us to attend it, because we cannot 
 spare the ready money, and hope now to be fine 
 without it. But ah ! think what you do when you 
 run in debt ; you give to another power over your 
 liberty. If you cannot pay at the time, you will be 
 ashamed to see your creditor ; you will be in fear 
 when you speak to him ; you will make poor, pitiful, 
 sneaking excuses, and by degrees come to lose your 
 veracity, and sink into base, downright lying ; for, 
 The second vice is lying, the first is running in debt, 
 as Poor Richard says ; and again to the same pur- 
 pose, Lying rides upon debt's back ; whereas a free- 
 born Englishman ought not to be ashamed nor afraid 
 to see or speak to any man living. But poverty often 
 deprives a man of all spirit and virtue. It is hard for 
 an empty bag to stand upright. 
 
 "What would you think of that prince, or of that 
 government, who should issue an edict forbidding 
 you to dress like a gentleman or gentlewoman, on 
 
THE WAY TO WEALTH. 211 
 
 pain of" imprisonment or servitude ? Would you not 
 say that you are free, have a right to dress as you 
 please, and that such an edict would be a breach of 
 your privileges and such a government tyrannical ? 
 And yet you are about to put yourself under such 
 tyranny, when you run in debt for such dress. Your 
 creditor has authority, at his pleasure, to deprive you 
 of your liberty by confining you in jail till you shall 
 be able to pay him. When you have got your bar- 
 gain, you may, perhaps, think little of payment; but, 
 as Poor Richard says, Creditors have better memories 
 than debtors ; creditors are a superstitious sect, great 
 observers of set days and times. The day comes 
 round before you are aware, and the demand is made 
 before you are prepared to satisfy it ; or, if you bear 
 your debt in mind, the term, which at first seemed so 
 long, will, as it lessens, appear extremely short. 
 Time will seem to have added wings to his heels as 
 well as his shoulders. Those have a short Lent who 
 owe money to be paid at Easter. At present, per- 
 haps, you may think yourselves in thriving circum- 
 stances, and that you can bear a little extravagance 
 without injury ; but 
 
 For age and want save while you may ; 
 No morning sun lasts a whole day. 
 
 Gain may be temporary and uncertain, but ever, 
 while you live, expense is constant and certain ; and, 
 It is easier to build two chimneys than to keep one in 
 fuel, as Poor Richard says ; so, Rather go to bed 
 supperless than rise in debt. 
 
 Get what you can, and what you get, hold, 
 
 'Tis the stone that will turn all your lead into gold. 
 
212 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 And when you have got the philosopher's stone, be 
 sure you will no longer complain of bad times or the 
 difficulty of paying taxes. 
 
 IV. " This doctrine, my friends, is reason and 
 wisdom ; but, after all, do not depend too much 
 upon your own industry and frugality and prudence, 
 though excellent things ; for they may all be blasted, 
 without the blessing of Heaven ; and, therefore, ask 
 that blessing humbly, and be not uncharitable to those 
 that at present seem to want it, but comfort and help 
 them. Remember Job suffered, and was afterward 
 prosperous. 
 
 " And now, to conclude, Experience keeps a dear 
 school, but fools will learn in no other, as Poor Rich- 
 ard says, and scarce in that ; for, it is true, we may 
 give advice, but we cannot give conduct. However, 
 remember this : They that will not be counseled can- 
 not be helped ; and further that, If you will not hear 
 Reason, she will surely rap your knuckles, as Poor 
 Richard says." 
 
 Thus the old gentleman ended his harangue. The 
 people heard it, and approved the doctrine, and im- 
 mediately practiced the contrary, just as if it had been 
 a common sermon ; for the auction opened and they 
 began to buy extravagantly. I found the good man 
 had thoroughly studied my almanacs, and digested all 
 I had dropped on these topics during the course of 
 twenty-five years. The frequent mention he made 
 of me must have tired any one else ; but my vanity 
 was wonderfully delighted with it, though I was con- 
 scious that not a tenth part of the wisdom was my 
 own which he ascribed to me, but rather the glean- 
 ings that I had made of the sense of all ages and 
 
HOW TO CONDUCT A NEWSPAPER. 21 3 
 
 nations. However, I resolved to be the better for the 
 echo of it ; and, though I had at first determined to 
 buy stuff for a new coat, I went away resolved to 
 wear my old one a little longer. Reader, if thou 
 wilt do the same, thy profit will be as great as mine. 
 I am, as ever, thine to serve thee, 
 
 Richard Saunders. 
 
 HOW TO CONDUCT A NEWSPAPER. 
 
 In the conduct of my newspaper, I carefully ex- 
 cluded all libeling and personal abuse, which is of 
 late years become so disgraceful to our country. 
 Whenever I was solicited to insert anything of that 
 kind, and the writers pleaded, as they generally did, 
 the liberty of the press, and that a newspaper was 
 like a stagecoach, in which any one who would pay 
 had a right to a place, my answer was that I would 
 print the piece separately if desired, and the author 
 might have as many copies as he pleased to distribute 
 himself, but that I would not take upon me to spread 
 his detraction ; and that, having contracted with my 
 subscribers to furnish them with what might be either 
 useful or entertaining, I could not fill their papers 
 with private altercation, in which they had no con- 
 cern, without doing them manifest injustice. Now 
 many of our printers make no scruple of gratifying 
 the malice of individuals by false accusations of the fair- 
 est characters among ourselves, augmenting animosity 
 even to the producing of duels ; and are, moreover, so 
 indiscreet as to print scurrilous reflections on the gov- 
 ernment of neighboring states, and even on the con- 
 
214 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 duct of our best national allies, which may be attended 
 with the most pernicious consequences. These things 
 I mention as a caution to young printers, and that 
 they may be encouraged not to pollute their presses 
 and disgrace their profession by such infamous prac- 
 tices, but refuse steadily, as they may see by my ex- 
 ample that such a course of conduct will not, on the 
 whole, be injurious to their interests. 
 
 FRANKLIN'S EXPERIENCES WITH 
 WHITEFIELD. 
 
 In 1739 arrived among us from Ireland the Rev. Mr. 
 Whitefield, who had made himself remarkable there 
 as an itinerant preacher. He was at first permitted 
 to preach in some of our churches ; but the clergy, 
 taking a dislike to him, soon refused him their pulpits, 
 and he was obliged to preach in the fields. The 
 multitudes of all sects and denominations that at- 
 tended his sermons were enormous, and it was matter 
 of speculation to me, who was one of the number, to 
 observe the extraordinary influence of his oratory on 
 his hearers, and how much they admired and re- 
 spected him, notwithstanding his common abuse of" 
 them by assuring them they were naturally " half 
 beasts and half devils." It was wonderful to see the 
 change soon made in the manners of our inhabitants. 
 From being thoughtless or indifferent about religion, it 
 seemed as if all the world were growing religious, so 
 that one could not walk through the town in an eve- 
 ning without hearing psalms sung in different families 
 of every street. . . . 
 
EXPERIENCES WITH WHITEFIELD. 21 5 
 
 ... I happened soon after to attend one of his 
 sermons, in the course of which I perceived he in- 
 tended to finish with a collection, and I silently re- 
 solved he should get nothing from me. I had in my 
 pocket a handful of copper money, three or four silver 
 dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As he proceeded 
 I began to soften, and concluded to give the coppers. 
 Another stroke of his oratory made me ashamed of 
 that, and determined me to give the silver ; and he 
 finished so admirably that I emptied my pocket 
 wholly into the collector's dish, gold and all. At this 
 sermon there was also one of our club, who, being of 
 my sentiments respecting the building in Georgia, and 
 suspecting a collection might be intended, had, by 
 precaution, emptied his pockets before he came from 
 home. Toward the conclusion of the discourse, how- 
 ever, he felt a strong desire to give, and applied to a 
 neighbor who stood near him, to borrow some money 
 for the purpose. The application was unfortunately 
 to perhaps the only man in the company who had the 
 firmness not to be affected by the preacher. His an- 
 swer was: " At any other time, friend Hopkinson I 
 would lend to thee freely ; but not now, for thee seems 
 to be out of thy right senses." 
 
 The following instance will show something of the 
 terms on which we stood. Upon one of his arrivals 
 from England at Boston, he wrote to me that he 
 should come soon to Philadelphia, but knew not 
 where he could lodge when there, as he understood 
 his old friend and host, Mr. Benezet, was removed 
 to Germantown. My answer was : " You know 
 my house ; if you can make shift with its scanty ac- 
 commodations, you will be most heartily welcome. " 
 
2l6 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 He replied that if I made that kind offer for Christ's 
 sake I should not miss of a reward ; and I returned : 
 " Don't let me be mistaken ; it was not for Christ's 
 sake, but for your own sake." One of our common 
 acquaintance remarked that, knowing it to be the 
 custom of the saints, when they received any favor, to 
 shift the burden of the obligation from off their own 
 shoulders and place it in heaven, I had contrived to 
 fix it on earth. 
 
 ORGANIZING EDUCATION AND PUB- 
 LIC DEFENCE. 
 
 I had, on the whole, abundant reason to be satis- 
 fied with my being established in Pennsylvania. 
 There were, however, two things which I regretted, 
 — there being no provision for defense, nor for a 
 complete education of youth ; no militia, nor any 
 college. I therefore, in 1743, drew up a proposal 
 for establishing an academy, and at that time thinking 
 the Rev. Mr. Peters, who was out of employ, a fit 
 person to superintend such an institution, I communi- 
 cated the project to him ; but he, having more profita- 
 ble views in the service of the proprietaries, which 
 succeeded, declined the undertaking ; and, not know- 
 ing another at that time suitable for such a trust, I let 
 the scheme lie awhile dormant. I succeeded better 
 the next year, 1744, in proposing and establishing a 
 philosophical society. The paper I wrote for that pur- 
 pose will be found among my writings when collected. 
 
 With respect to defence, ... I determined to 
 try what might be done by a voluntary association of 
 the people. To promote this I first wrote and pub- 
 
THE FRANKLIN STOVE. 217 
 
 lished a pamphlet entitled "Plain Truth," in which 
 I stated our defenseless situation in strong lights, with 
 the necessity of union and discipline for our defense, 
 and promised to propose in a few days an association, 
 to be generally signed for that purpose. The pam- 
 phlet had a sudden and surprising effect. I was 
 called upon for the instrument of association, and hav- 
 ing settled the draft of it with a few friends, I ap- 
 pointed a meeting of the citizens in the large building 
 before mentioned. The house was pretty full. I 
 had prepared a number of printed copies, and pro- 
 vided pens and ink dispersed all over the room. I 
 harangued them a little on the subject, read the paper 
 and explained it, and then distributed the copies, 
 which were eagerly signed, not the least objection 
 being made. 
 
 When the company separated and the papers were 
 collected, we found above twelve hundred hands ; 
 and, other copies being dispersed in the country, the 
 subscribers amounted at length to upward of ten 
 thousand. These all furnished themselves as soon as 
 they could with arms, formed themselves into com- 
 panies and regiments, chose their own officers, and 
 met every week to be instructed in the manual exercise 
 and other parts of military discipline. The women 
 by subscriptions among themselves, provided silk 
 colors, which they presented to the companies, painted 
 with different devices and mottoes which I supplied. 
 
 THE FRANKLIN STOVE. 
 
 In order of time I should have mentioned before 
 that, having in 1742 invented an open stove for the 
 
21 8 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 better warming of rooms and at the same time saving 
 fuel, as the fresh air admitted was warmed in entering, 
 I made a present of the model to Mr. Robert Grace, 
 one of my early friends, who, having an iron furnace, 
 found the casting of the plates for these stoves a prof- 
 itable thing, as they were growing in demand. To 
 promote that demand I wrote and published a pam- 
 phlet entitled, " An Account of the new-invented 
 Pennsylvania Fireplaces ; wherein their Construction 
 and Manner of Operation is particularly explained ; 
 their Advantages above every other Method of warm- 
 ing Rooms demonstrated ; and all Objections that 
 have been raised against the Use of them answered 
 and obviated," etc. This pamphlet had a good 
 effect. Governor Thomas was so pleased with the 
 construction of this stove, as described in it, that he 
 offered to give me a patent for the sole vending of 
 them for a term of years ; but I declined it from a 
 principle which has ever weighed with me on such 
 occasions ; namely, that as we enjoy great advantages 
 from the inventions of others, we should be glad of an 
 opportunity to serve others by any invention of ours ; 
 and this we should do freely and generously. 
 
 PUBLIC-SPIRITED PROJECTS. 
 
 Peace being concluded, and the association busi- 
 ness therefore at an end, I turned my thoughts again 
 to the affair of establishing an academy. The first 
 step I took was to associate in the design a number 
 of active friends, of whom the Junto furnished a 
 good part. The next was to write and publish a 
 
PUBLIC-SPIRITED PROJECTS. 219 
 
 pamphlet entitled "Proposals relating to the Educa- 
 tion of Youth in Pennsylvania." This I distributed 
 among the principal inhabitants gratis ; and as soon 
 as I could suppose their minds a little prepared by the 
 perusal of it, I set on foot a subscription for opening 
 and supporting an academy. It was to be paid in 
 quotas yearly for five years. By so dividing it I 
 judged the subscription might be larger, and I believe 
 it was so, amounting to no less, if I remember right, 
 than five thousand pounds. 
 
 In the introduction to these Proposals I stated their 
 publication, not as an act of mine, but of some *" public- 
 spirited gentlemen," avoiding as much as I could, 
 according to my usual rule, the presenting myself to the 
 public as the author of any scheme for their benefit. 
 
 The subscribers, to carry the project into immediate 
 execution, chose out of their number twenty-four 
 trustees, and appointed Mr. Francis, then attorney- 
 general, and myself to draw up constitutions for the 
 government of the academy ; which being done and 
 signed, a house was hired, masters engaged, and the 
 schools opened, I think, in the same year, 1749. 
 
 The trustees of the academy after a while were 
 incorporated by a charter from the government ; their 
 funds were increased by contributions in Britain and 
 grants of land from the proprietaries, to which the 
 Assembly has since made considerable addition ; and 
 thus was established the present University of Phila- 
 delphia. I have been continued one of its trustees 
 from the beginning, now near forty years. . . . 
 
 In 1 75 1 Dr. Thomas Bond, a particular friend of 
 mine, conceived the idea of establishing a hospital in 
 Philadelphia (a very beneficent design which has been 
 
220 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 ascribed to me but was originally his) for the recep- 
 tion and cure of poor sick persons, whether inhabit- 
 ants of the province or strangers. He was zealous 
 and active in endeavoring to procure subscriptions for 
 it, but the proposal being a novelty in America, and at 
 first not well understood, he met with but small success. 
 
 At length he came to me with the compliment that 
 he found there was no such thing as carrying a public- 
 spirited project through without my being concerned 
 in it. " For," says he, € * I am often asked by those 
 to whom I propose subscribing, * Have you consulted 
 Franklin upon this business ? And what does he 
 think of it ? ' And when I tell them that I have not 
 (supposing it rather out of your line), they do not sub- 
 scribe, but say they will consider of it." I inquired 
 into the nature and probable utility of his scheme, 
 and receiving from him a very satisfactory explana- 
 tion, I not only subscribed to it myself, but engaged 
 heartily in the design of procuring subscriptions from 
 others. Previously, however, to the solicitation, I 
 endeavored to prepare the minds of the people by 
 writing on the subject in the newspapers, which was 
 my usual custom in such cases, but which he had 
 omitted. 
 
 The subscriptions afterward were more free and 
 generous ; but, beginning to flag, I saw they would 
 be insufficient without some assistance from the As- 
 sembly, and therefore proposed to petition for it, 
 which was done. The country members did not at 
 first relish the project. They objected that it could 
 only be serviceable to the city, and therefore the citi- 
 zens alone should be at the expense of it ; and they 
 doubted whether the citizens themselves generally ap- 
 
PUBLIC-SPIRITED PROJECTS. 221 
 
 proved of it. My allegation on the contrary, that it 
 met with such approbation as to leave no doubt of 
 our being able to raise two thousand pounds by volun- 
 tary donations, they considered as a most extravagant 
 supposition and utterly impossible. 
 
 On this I formed my plan ; and, asking leave to 
 bring in a bill for incorporating the contributors ac- 
 cording to the prayer of their petition, and granting 
 them a blank sum of money, which leave was ob- 
 tained chiefly on the consideration that the House 
 could throw the bill out if they did not like it, I drew 
 it so as to make the important clause a conditional 
 one, namely : M And be it enacted, by the authority 
 aforesaid, that when the said contributors shall have 
 met and chosen their managers and treasurer, and 
 shall have raised by their contributions a capital stock 
 
 of value, (the yearly interest of which is to be 
 
 applied to the accommodating of the sick poor in the 
 said hospital, free of charge for diet, attendance, ad- 
 vice, and medicines,) and shall make the same appear 
 to the satisfaction of the speaker of the Assembly for 
 the time being, that then it shall and may be lawful 
 for the said speaker, and he is hereby required, to 
 sign an order on the provincial treasurer for the pay- 
 ment of two thousand pounds, in two yearly pay- 
 ments, to the treasurer of the said hospital, to be 
 applied to the founding, building, and finishing of 
 the same." 
 
 This condition carried the bill through ; for the 
 members who had opposed the grant, and now con- 
 ceived they might have the credit of being charitable 
 without the expense, agreed to its passage ; and then, 
 in soliciting subscriptions among the people, we 
 
222 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 urged the conditional promise of the law as an addi- 
 tional motive to give, since every man's donation 
 would be doubled ; thus the clause worked both 
 ways. The subscriptions accordingly soon exceeded 
 the requisite sum, and we claimed and received the 
 public gift, which enabled us to carry the design into 
 execution. A convenient and handsome building 
 was soon erected ; the institution has, by constant 
 experience, been found useful, and flourishes to this 
 day ; and I do not remember any of my political 
 maneuvers the success of which gave me at the time 
 more pleasure, or wherein, after thinking of it, I more 
 easily excused myself for having made some use of 
 cunning. 
 
 It was about this time that another projector, the 
 Rev. Gilbert Tennent, came to me with a request 
 that I would assist him in procuring a subscription for 
 erecting a new meetinghouse. It was to be for the 
 use of a congregation he had gathered among the 
 Presbyterians who were originally disciples of Mr. 
 Whitefield. Unwilling to make myself disagreeable 
 to my fellow-citizens by too frequently soliciting their 
 contributions, I absolutely refused. He then desired 
 [ would furnish him with a list of the names of per- 
 sons I knew by experience to be generous and public- 
 spirited. I thought it would be unbecoming in me, 
 after their kind compliance with my solicitations, to 
 mark them out to be worried by other beggars, and 
 therefore refused also to give such a list. He then 
 desired I would at least give him my advice. «f That 
 I will readily do," said I ; " and in the first place, I 
 advise you to apply to all those whom you know will 
 give something ; next, to tho^e whom you are un- 
 
PUBLIC-SPIRITED PROJECTS. 223 
 
 certain whether they will give anything or not, and 
 show them the list of those who have given ; and, 
 lastly, do not neglect those who you are sure will 
 give nothing, for in some of them you may be mis- 
 taken." He laughed and thanked me, and said he 
 would take my advice. He did so, for he asked of 
 everybody, and he obtained a much larger sum than 
 he expected, with which he erected the capacious 
 and very elegant meetinghouse that stands in Arch 
 Street. 
 
 Our city, though laid out with a beautiful regular- 
 ity, the streets large, straight, and crossing each other 
 at right angles, had the disgrace of suffering those 
 streets to remain long unpaved, and in wet weather 
 the wheels of heavy carriages plowed them into a 
 quagmire, so that it was difficult to cross them, and 
 in dry weather the dust was offensive. I had lived 
 near what was called the Jersey Market, and saw 
 with pain the inhabitants wading in mud while pur- 
 chasing their provisions. A strip of ground down the 
 middle of that market was at length paved with brick, 
 so that, being once in the market, they had firm foot- 
 ing, but were often over shoes in dirt to get there. 
 By talking and writing on the subject I was at length 
 instrumental in getting the street paved with stone be- 
 tween the market and the bricked foot pavement that 
 was on each side next the houses. This for some 
 time gave an easy access to the market, dry-shod ; 
 but, the rest of the street not being paved, whenever 
 a carriage came out of the mud upon this pavement, 
 it shook off and left its dirt upon it, and it was soon 
 covered with mire, which was not removed, the city 
 as yet having no scavengers. 
 
224 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 After some inquiry I found a poor, industrious 
 man, who was willing to undertake keeping the pave- 
 ment clean by sweeping it twice a week, carrying off 
 the dirt from before all the neighbors' doors for the 
 sum of sixpence per month to be paid by each house. 
 I then wrote and printed a paper setting forth the ad- 
 vantages to the neighborhood that might be obtained 
 by this small expense : the greater ease in keeping 
 our houses clean, so much dirt not being brought in 
 by people's feet ; the benefit to the shops by more 
 custom, etc., as buyers could more easily get at them, 
 and by not having, in windy weather, the dust blown 
 in upon their goods, etc. I sent one of these papers 
 to each house, and in a day or two went round to 
 see who would subscribe an agreement to pay these 
 sixpences. It was unanimously signed, and for a 
 time well executed. All the inhabitants of the city 
 were delighted with the cleanliness of the pavement 
 that surrounded the market, it being a convenience to 
 all; and this raised a general desire to have all* the 
 streets paved, and made the people more willing to 
 submit to a tax for that purpose. 
 
 After some time I drew a bill for paving the city, 
 and brought it into the Assembly. It was just before 
 I went to England in 1757, and did not pass till I 
 was gone, and then with an alteration in the mode of 
 assessment which I thought not for the better, but 
 with an additional provision for lighting as well as 
 paving the streets, which was a great improvement. 
 It was by a private person, the late Mr. John Clifton, 
 — his giving a sample of the utility of lamps by plac- 
 ing one at his door, — that the people were first im- 
 pressed with the idea of enlighting all the city. The 
 
PUBLIC-SPIRITED PROJECTS. 225 
 
 honor of this public benefit has also been ascribed to 
 me, but it belongs truly to that gentleman. I did 
 but follow his example, and have only some merit to 
 claim respecting the form of our lamps, as differing 
 from the globe lamps we were at first supplied with 
 from London. Those we found inconvenient in 
 these respects : they admitted no air below ; the 
 smoke, therefore, did not readily go out above, but 
 circulated in the globe, lodged on its inside, and scon 
 obstructed the light they were intended to afford, giv- 
 ing, besides, the daily trouble of wiping them clean; 
 and an accidental stroke on one of them would de- 
 molish it and render it totally useless. I therefore 
 suggested the composing them of four flat panes, with 
 a long funnel above to draw up the smoke, and crev- 
 ices admitting air below to facilitate the ascent of the 
 smoke. By this means they were kept clean, and 
 did not grow dark in a few hours, as the London 
 lamps do, but continued bright till morning, and an 
 accidental stroke would generally break but a single 
 pane, easily repaired. 
 
 I have sometimes wondered that the Londoners 
 did not, from the effect holes in the bottom of the 
 globe lamps used at Vauxhall have in keeping them 
 clean, learn to have such holes in their street lamps. 
 But, these holes being made for another purpose, 
 namely, to communicate flame more suddenly to the 
 wick by a little flax hanging down through them, the 
 other use, of letting in air, seems not to have been 
 thought of; and therefore, after the lamps have been 
 lit a few hours, the streets of London are very poorly 
 illuminated. 
 
 The mention of these improvements puts me in 
 
226 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 mind of one I proposed, when in London, to Dr. 
 Fothergill, who was among the best men I have 
 known, and a great promoter of useful projects. I 
 had observed that the streets, when dry, were never 
 swept, and the light dust carried away ; but it was 
 suffered to accumulate till wet weather reduced it to 
 mud, and then, after lying some days so deep on the 
 pavement that there was no crossing but in paths kept 
 clean by poor people with brooms, it was with great 
 labor raked together and thrown up into carts open 
 above, the sides of which suffered some of the slush 
 at every jolt on the pavement to shake out and fall, 
 sometimes to the annoyance of foot passengers. The 
 reason given for not sweeping the dusty streets was 
 that the dust would fly into the windows of shops 
 and houses. 
 
 An accidental occurrence had instructed me how 
 much sweeping might be done in a little time. I 
 found at my door in Craven Street one morning, a 
 poor woman sweeping my pavement with a birch 
 broom. She appeared very pale and feeble, as just 
 come out of a fit of sickness. I asked who employed 
 her to sweep there. She said, " Nobody ; but I 
 am very poor and in distress, and I sweeps before 
 gentlefolkses doors, and hopes they will give me 
 something." I bid her sweep the whole street clean, 
 and I would give her a shilling. This was at nine 
 o'clock ; at twelve she came for the shilling. From 
 the slowness I saw at first in her working I could 
 scarce believe that the work was done so soon, and 
 sent my servant to examine it, who reported that the 
 whole street was swept perfectly clean, and all the 
 dust placed in the gutter, which was in the middle ; 
 
PUBLIC-SPIRITED PROJECTS. 227 
 
 and the next rain washed it quite away, so that the 
 pavement, and even the kennel, were perfectly clean. 
 
 I then judged that if that feeble woman could 
 sweep such a street in three hours, a strong, active 
 man might have done it in half the time. And here 
 let me remark the convenience of having but one gut- 
 ter in such a narrow street, running down its middle, 
 instead of two, one on each side, near the footway ; 
 for where all the rain that falls on a street runs from 
 the sides and meets in the middle, it forms there a 
 current strong enough to wash away all the mud it 
 meets with ; but when divided into two channels, it 
 is often too weak to cleanse either, and only makes 
 the mud it finds more fluid, so that the wheels of 
 carriages and feet of horses throw and dash it upon 
 the foot pavement, which is thereby rendered foul 
 and slippery, and sometimes splash it upon those 
 who are walking. . . . 
 
 Some may think these trifling matters, not worth 
 minding or relating ; but when they consider that 
 though dust blown into the eyes of a single person, 
 or into a single shop, on a windy day is but of small 
 importance, yet the great number of the instances in 
 a populous city, and its frequent repetitions, give it 
 weight and consequence, perhaps they will not cen- 
 sure very severely those who bestow some attention to 
 affairs of this seemingly low nature. Human felicity 
 is produced not so much by great pieces of good for- 
 tune that seldom happen, as by little advantages that 
 occur every day. Thus, if you teach a poor young 
 man to shave himself and keep his razor in order, 
 you may contribute more to the happiness of his life 
 than in giving him a thousand guineas. The money 
 
228 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 may be soon spent, the regret only remaining of hav- 
 ing foolishly consumed it ; but in the other case, he 
 escapes the frequent vexation of waiting for barbers, 
 and of their sometimes dirty fingers, offensive breaths, 
 and dull razors. He shaves when most convenient 
 to him, and enjoys daily the pleasure of its being 
 done with a good instrument. With these sentiments 
 I have hazarded the few preceding pages, hoping 
 they may afford hints which some time or other may 
 be useful to a city I love, having lived many years 
 in it very happily, and perhaps to some of our towns 
 in America. 
 
 FRANKLIN AND GENERAL BRADDOCK. 
 
 In conversation with him one day he was giving 
 me some account of his intended progress. " After 
 taking Fort Duquesne," says he, *« I am to proceed 
 to Niagara ; and, having taken that, to Frontenac, if 
 the season will allow time, and I suppose it will, for 
 Duquesne can hardly detain me above three or four 
 days ; and then I see nothing that can obstruct my 
 march to Niagara." Having before revolved in my 
 mind the long line his army must make in their march 
 by a very narrow road, to be cut for them through the 
 woods and bushes, and also what I had read of a 
 former defeat of fifteen hundred French, who invaded 
 the Iroquois country, I had conceived some doubts 
 and some fears for the event of the campaign. But 
 I ventured only to say : "To be sure, sir, if you 
 arrive well before Duquesne with these fine troops, 
 so well provided with artillery, that place, not yet 
 completely fortified, and, as we hear, with no very 
 
GENERAL BRADDOCK. 229 
 
 strong garrison, can probably make but a short 
 resistance. The only danger I apprehend of obstruc- 
 tion to your march is from ambuscades of Indians, 
 who, by constant practice, are dexterous in laying and 
 executing them ; and the slender line, near four miles 
 long, which your army must make, may expose it to 
 be attacked by surprise in its flanks, and to be cut like 
 a thread into several pieces, which, from their distance, 
 cannot come up in time to support each other." 
 
 He smiled at my ignorance, and replied : " These 
 savages may, indeed, be a formidable enemy to your 
 raw American militia, but upon the king's regular and 
 disciplined troops, sir, it is impossible they should make 
 any impression." I was conscious of an impropriety 
 in my disputing with a military man in matters of his 
 profession, and said no more. The enemy, however, 
 did not take the advantage of his army which I appre- 
 hended its long line of march exposed it to, but let it 
 advance without interruption till within nine miles of 
 the place ; and then, when more in a body (for it 
 had just passed a river where the front had halted till 
 all had come over), and in a more open part of the 
 woods than any it had passed, attacked its advance 
 guard by a heavy fire from behind trees and bushes, 
 which was the first intelligence the general had of an 
 enemy's being near him. This guard being disordered, 
 the general hurried the troops up to their assistance, 
 which was done in great confusion, through wagons, 
 baggage, and cattle ; and presently the fire came upon 
 their flank. The officers, being on horseback, were 
 more easily distinguished, picked out as marks, and 
 fell very fast ; and the soldiers were crowded together 
 in a huddle, having or hearing no orders, and standing 
 
230 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 to be shot at till two thirds of them were killed ; and 
 then, being seized with a panic, the whole fled with 
 precipitation. 
 
 The wagoners took each a horse out of his team, 
 and scampered ; their example was immediately fol- 
 lowed by others, so that all the wagons, provisions, 
 artillery, and stores were left to the enemy. The 
 general, being wounded, was brought off with diffi- 
 culty ; his secretary, Mr. Shirley, was killed by his 
 side ; and out of eighty-six officers, sixty -three were 
 killed or wounded, and seven hundred and fourteen 
 men killed out of eleven hundred. These eleven 
 hundred had been picked men from the whole army ; 
 the rest had been left behind with Colonel Dunbar, 
 who was to follow with the heavier part of the stores, 
 provisions, and baggage. The flyers, not being pur- 
 sued, arrived at Dunbar's camp, and the panic they 
 brought with them instantly seized him and all his 
 people ; and though he had now above one thousand 
 men, and the enemy who had beaten Braddock did not at 
 most exceed four hundred Indians and French together, 
 instead of proceeding and endeavoring to recover some 
 of the lost honor, he ordered all the stores, ammuni- 
 tion, etc., to be destroyed, that he might have more 
 horses to assist his flight toward the settlements and 
 less lumber to remove. He was there met with 
 requests from the governors of Virginia, Maryland, 
 and Pennsylvania, that he would post his troops on 
 the frontiers so as to afford some protection to the 
 inhabitants ; but he continued his hasty march through 
 all the country, not thinking himself safe till he arrived 
 at Philadelphia, where the inhabitants could protect 
 him. This whole transaction gave us Americans the 
 
GENERAL BRADDOCK. 23 I 
 
 first suspicion that our exalted ideas of the prowess of 
 British regulars had not been well founded. 
 
 In their first march, too, from their landing till they 
 got beyond the settlements, they had plundered and 
 stripped the inhabitants, totally ruining some poor 
 families, besides insulting, abusing, and confining the 
 people if they remonstrated. This was enough to 
 put us out of conceit of such defenders, if we had 
 really wanted any. How different was the conduct 
 of our French friends in 1781, who, during a march 
 through the most inhabited part of our country from 
 Rhode Island to Virginia, near seven hundred miles, 
 occasioned not the smallest complaint for the loss of 
 a pig, a chicken, or even an apple. 
 
 Before we had the news of this defeat, the two 
 Doctors Bond came to me with a subscription paper 
 for raising money to defray the expense of a grand 
 firework, which it was intended to exhibit at a 
 rejoicing on receipt of the news of our taking Fort 
 Duquesne. I looked grave, and said it would, I 
 thought, be time enough to prepare for the rejoicing 
 when we knew we should have occasion to rejoice. 
 They seemed surprised that I do not immediately 
 comply with their proposal. " Why," says one of 
 them, Jf you surely don't suppose that the fort will 
 not be taken t" " I don't know that it will not be 
 taken, but I know that the events of war are subject 
 to great uncertainty." I gave them the reasons of 
 my doubting ; the subscription was dropped, and the 
 projectors thereby missed the mortification they would 
 have undergone if the firework had been prepared. 
 Dr. Bond, on some other occasion afterward, said that 
 he did not like Franklin's forebodings. 
 
232 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 ADVICE TO AN ARMY CHAPLAIN. 
 
 We had for our chaplain a zealous Presbyterian 
 minister, Mr. Beatty, who complained to me that 
 the men did not generally attend his prayers and ex- 
 hortations. When they enlisted, they were promised, 
 besides pay and provisions, a gill of rum a day which 
 was punctually served out to them, half in the morn- 
 ing and the other half in the evening, and I observed 
 they were as punctual in attending to receive it ; 
 upon which I said to Mr. Beatty : " It is, perhaps, 
 below the dignity of your profession to act as stew- 
 ard of the rum, but if you were to deal it out, and 
 only- just after prayers, you would have them all 
 about you." He liked the thought, undertook the 
 office, and, with the help of a few hands to measure 
 out the liquor, executed it to satisfaction, and never 
 were prayers more generally and more punctually 
 attended ; so that I thought this method preferable 
 to the punishment inflicted by some military laws 
 for nonattendance on divine service. 
 
 FRANKLIN BEFORE THE HOUSE OF 
 COMMONS. 
 
 [From the Report of the Examination, published 
 in 1767.] 
 
 Q. What is your name, and place of abode ? 
 A. Franklin, of Philadelphia. 
 
BEFORE THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. 233 
 
 Q. Do the Americans pay any considerable taxes 
 among themselves ? 
 
 A. Certainly, many, and very heavy taxes. 
 
 Q. What are the present taxes in Pennsylvania, 
 laid by the laws of the colony ? 
 
 A. There are taxes on all estates real and per- 
 sonal ; a poll tax ; a tax on all offices, professions, 
 trades, and businesses, according to their profits ; 
 an excise on all wine, rum and other spirits ; and a 
 duty of ten pounds per head on all negroes imported, 
 with some other duties. 
 
 Q. For what purposes are those taxes laid ? 
 
 A. For the support of the civil and military estab- 
 lishments of the country, and to discharge the heavy 
 debt contracted in the last war. 
 
 Q. How long are those taxes to continue ? 
 
 A. Those for discharging the debt are: to con- 
 tinue till 1772, and longer if the debt should not 
 be then all discharged. The others must always 
 continue. 
 
 Q. Was it not expected that the debt would have 
 been sooner discharged ? 
 
 A. It was, when the peace was made with France 
 and Spain. But, a fresh war breaking out with the 
 Indians, a fresh load of debt was incurred ; and the 
 taxes, of course, continued longer by a new law. 
 
 Q. Are not all the people very able to pay those 
 taxes ? 
 
 A. No. The frontier counties, all along the 
 continent, having been frequently ravaged by the 
 enemy and greatly impoverished, are able to pay 
 very little tax. And therefore, in consideration of 
 their distresses, our late tax laws do expressly favor 
 
234 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 those counties, excusing the sufferers ; and I suppose 
 the same is done in other governments. 
 
 Q. What was the temper of America toward 
 Great Britain before the year 1763 ? 
 
 A. The best in the world. They submitted 
 willingly to the government of the crown, and paid, 
 in their courts, obedience to the acts of Parliament. 
 Numerous as the people are in the several old prov- 
 inces, they cost you nothing in forts, citadels, garri- 
 sons, or armies, to keep them in subjection. They 
 were governed by this country at the expense only 
 of a little pen, ink, and paper ; they were led by a 
 thread. They had not only a respect, but an affec- 
 tion for Great Britain ; for its laws, its customs and 
 manners, and even a fondness for its fashions, that 
 greatly increased the commerce. Natives of Britain 
 were always treated with particular regard ; to be 
 an Old- England man was of itself a character of 
 some respect, and gave a kind of rank among us. 
 
 Q. And what is their temper now ? 
 
 A. O, very much altered. 
 
 ^K ^K *f* ^ ^ ^ ^ ^F 
 
 Q. In what light did the people of America use 
 to consider the Parliament of Great Britain ? 
 
 A. They considered the Parliament as the great 
 bulwark and security of their liberties and privileges, 
 and always spoke of it with the utmost respect and 
 veneration. Arbitrary ministers, they thought, might 
 possibly, at times, attempt to oppress them ; but they 
 relied on it that the Parliament, on application, would 
 always give redress. They remembered, with grati- 
 tude, a strong instance of this, when a bill was 
 
BEFORE THE HOUSE OF COMMONS. 235 
 
 brought into Parliament, with a clause to make royal 
 instructions laws in the colonies, which the House 
 of Commons would not pass, and it was thrown 
 out. 
 
 Q. And have they not still the same respect for 
 Parliament ? 
 
 A. No, it is greatly lessened. 
 
 Q. To what cause is that owing ? 
 
 A. To a concurrence of causes ; the restraints 
 lately laid on their trade by which the bringing of 
 foreign gold and silver into the colonies was pre- 
 vented ; the prohibition of making paper money 
 among themselves, and then demanding a new and 
 heavy tax by stamps, taking away, at the same time, 
 trials by juries, and refusing to receive and hear their 
 humble petitions. 
 
 Q. Don't you think they would submit to the 
 Stamp Act, if it was modified, the obnoxious parts 
 taken out, and the duty reduced to some particulars 
 of small moment ? 
 
 A. No, they will never submit to it. 
 
 g. If the Stamp Act should be repealed, would 
 it induce the assemblies of America to acknowledge 
 the rights of Parliament to tax them, and would they 
 erase their resolutions ? 
 
 A. No, never. 
 
 Q. Are there no means of obliging them to erase 
 those resolutions ? 
 
 A. None that I know of ; they will never do it, 
 unless compelled by force of arms. 
 
 Q. Is there a power on earth that can force them 
 to erase them ? 
 
236 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 
 
 A. No power, how great soever, can force men 
 to change their opinions. 
 
 Q. Do they consider the post-office as a tax, or 
 as a regulation ? 
 
 A. Not as a tax, but as a regulation and con- 
 veniency ; every assembly encouraged it, and sup- 
 ported it in its infancy by grants of money, which 
 they would not otherwise have done ; and the 
 people have always paid the postage. 
 
 Q. When did you receive the instructions you 
 mentioned ? 
 
 A. I brought them with me, when I came to 
 England, about fifteen months since. 
 
 Q. When did you communicate that instruction 
 to the minister ? 
 
 A. Soon after my arrival, while the stamping of 
 America was under consideration, and before the 
 bill was brought in. 
 
 Q. Would it be most for the interest of Great 
 Britain, to employ the hands of Virginia in tobacco, 
 or in manufactures ? 
 
 A. In tobacco, to be sure. 
 
 Q. What used to be the pride of the Americans ? 
 
 A. To indulge in the fashions and manufactures 
 of Great Britain. 
 
 Q. What is now their pride ? 
 
 A. To wear their old clothes over again, till they 
 can make new ones. 
 
 Withdrew. 
 
MATHER BYLES. 
 
 Mather Byles was, to his contemporaries, a distin- 
 guished pulpit orator and poet,*but he is best remem- 
 bered for his remarkable wit and quickness of repartee. 
 He was born in Boston, March 15, 1707, and 
 died there July 5, 1788. He was, of course, 
 graduated at Harvard (1725), and equally, of course, 
 studied theology, becoming in time pastor of the 
 Hollis Street Church of his native city, where he 
 preached sermons, the published specimens of which 
 show command of language, power of condensed 
 expression, and a vivid imagination. But his main 
 ambition, doubtless, was to be considered a great poet 
 and literary dictator, like Alexander Pope, with 
 whom he corresponded. Unfortunately his Poem on 
 the Death of George I. ( 1 7 2 7 ) , his Poetical Epistle 
 to Governor Belcher on the Death of His Lady 
 (1736), and his Miscellaneous Poems (1744), while 
 they sufficed to give him provincial notoriety, have 
 proved unreadable to subsequent generations. The 
 specimen we give of his verse-making was composed 
 to be sung on a vessel in which he was entrapped 
 (by Governor Belcher) into taking a voyage without 
 the proper accompaniment of a prayer-book. 
 
 Byles was a consistent Tory, and in 1776 left his 
 parish on that account, after having cowed his parish- 
 
 237 
 
238 MATHER BYLES. 
 
 ioners into awed silence by his fiery and eloquent 
 defence of his principles. In 1777 he was de- 
 nounced as an enemy of his country, tried, and con- 
 demned to imprisonment and banishment ; but he 
 was in the end suffered to remain under guard in his own 
 house, and he thus lived in Boston until his death. 
 
 HYMN WRITTEN DURING A VOYAGE. 
 
 [Poems on Several Occasions. 1744.] 
 
 Great God thy works our wonder raise ; 
 
 To thee our swelling notes belong ; 
 While skies and winds, and rocks and seas, 
 
 Around shall echo to our song. 
 
 Thy power produced this mighty frame, 
 Aloud to thee the tempests roar, 
 
 Or softer breezes tune thy name 
 Gently along the shelly shore. 
 
 Round thee the scaly nation roves, 
 
 Thy opening hands their joys bestow, 
 
 Through all the blushing coral groves, 
 These silent gay retreats below. 
 
 See the broad sun forsake the skies, 
 
 Glow on the waves and downward glide, 
 
 Anon Heaven opens all its eyes, 
 
 And star-beams tremble o'er the tide. 
 
HYMN WRITTEN DURING A VOYAGE. 239 
 
 Each various scene, or day or night, 
 
 Lord ! points to thee our nourished soul ; 
 
 Thy glories fix our whole delight ; 
 
 So the touched needle courts the pole. 
 
JOSEPH GREEN. 
 
 Joseph Green, a New England poet, much ad- 
 mired by his contemporaries, was born in Boston in 
 1706, and died in London, December 11, 1780. 
 He was graduated from Harvard at twenty, became a 
 successful merchant and literary amateur, and was one 
 of the prime movers in the agitations of the sixties that 
 ultimately led to independence. But, like many other 
 good men, he shrank from open war, and he was 
 unfortunate enough to receive an appointment by 
 Governor Gage in 1774, as one of the so-called 
 Mandamus Council, to remodel the government of 
 the colony in an illiberal way. Though he did not 
 take the oath of office, he signed the loyal address in 
 approval of Governor Hutchinson, and was therefore 
 proscribed and banished in 1776, rinding a congenial 
 home for his last years in England. He was re- 
 garded in Massachusetts as the best lampooner and 
 political satirist of his generation ; and as a wit, unsur- 
 passed, unless it were by his friend, Dr. Byles. His 
 skits and parodies are by no means so remarkable to 
 modern as to contemporary readers, but the two 
 specimens we give have at least an historical value. 
 Some readers may be interested to compare the lines 
 on Mr. Old Tenor with those written not many years 
 ago on a Confederate note. 
 240 
 
THE PARSON'S PSALM. 24I 
 
 THE PARSON'S PSALM. 
 
 [A Parody on Mather Byles's Stanzas written 
 at Sea.] 
 
 In David's Psalms an oversight 
 
 Byles found one morning at his tea. 
 
 Alas ! that he should never write 
 A proper song to sing at sea. 
 
 Thus ruminating on his seat, 
 
 Ambitious thoughts at length prevailed. 
 The bard determined to complete 
 
 The part wherein the prophet failed. 
 
 He sat awhile and stroked his Muse, 1 
 
 Then taking up his tuneful pen, 
 Wrote a few stanzas for the use 
 
 Of his seafaring brethren. 
 
 The task performed, the bard content, 
 Well chosen was each flowing word ; 
 
 On a short voyage himself he went, 
 To hear it read and sung on board. 
 
 Most serious Christians do aver, 
 
 (Their credit sure we may rely on,) 
 
 In former times that after prayer, 
 They used to sing a song of Zion. 
 
 1 Byles's favorite cat. 
 
242 JOSEPH GREEN. 
 
 Our modern parson having prayed, 
 Unless loud fame or faith beguiles, 
 
 Sat down, took out his book and said, 
 "Let's sing a psalm of Mather Byles." 
 
 At first, when he began to read, 
 
 Their heads the assembly downward hung, 
 But he with boldness did proceed, 
 
 And thus he read, and thus they sung. 
 
 THE PSALM. 
 
 With vast amazement we survey 
 
 The wonders of the deep, 
 Where mackerel swim, and porpoise play, 
 
 And crabs and lobsters creep. 
 
 Fish of all kinds inhabit here, 
 
 And throng the dark abode. 
 Here haddock, hake, and flounders are, 
 
 And eels, and perch, and cod. 
 
 From raging winds and tempests free, 
 
 So smoothly as we pass, 
 The shining surface seams to be 
 
 A piece of Bristol glass. 
 
 But when the winds and tempests rise, 
 
 And foaming billows swell, 
 The vessel mounts above the skies, 
 
 And lower sinks than hell. 
 
A LAMENTATION. 243 
 
 Our heads the tottering motion feel, 
 
 And quickly we become 
 Giddy as new-dropped calves, and reel 
 
 Like Indians drunk with rum. 
 
 What praises then are due that we 
 
 Thus far have safely got, 
 Amarescoggin tribe to see, 
 
 And tribe of Penobscot. 
 
 A LAMENTATION FOR OLD TENOR 
 CURRENCY. 
 
 [A Mournful Lamentation for the Sad and 
 Deplorable Death of Mr. Old Tenor.] 
 
 A doleful tale prepare to hear, 
 
 As ever yet was told : 
 The like, perhaps, ne'er reach' d the ear 
 
 Of either young or old. 
 'Tis of the sad and woful death 
 
 Of one of mighty fame, 
 Who lately hath resigned his breath ; 
 
 Old Tenor was his name. 
 
 In vain ten thousands intercede, 
 
 To keep him from the grave ; 
 In vain, his many good works plead ; 
 
 Alas ! they cannot save. 
 The powers decree and die he must, 
 
 It is the common lot, 
 But his good deeds, when he's in dust, 
 
 Shall never be forgot. 
 
244 JOSEPH GREEN. 
 
 He made our wives and daughters fine, 
 
 And pleased everybody ; 
 He gave the rich their costly wine, 
 
 The poor their flip and toddy. 
 The laborer he set to work ; 
 
 In ease maintained the great : 
 He found us mutton, beef, and pork, 
 
 And everything we eat. 
 
 To fruitful fields by swift degrees, 
 
 He turned our desert land : 
 Where once naught stood but rocks and trees, 
 
 Now spacious cities stand. 
 He built us houses strong and high, 
 
 Of wood, and brick, and stone; 
 The furniture he did supply ; 
 
 But now, alas ! he's gone. 
 
 The merchants, too, those topping folks, 
 
 To him owe all their riches ; 
 Their ruffles, lace, and scarlet cloaks, 
 
 And eke their velvet breeches. 
 He launched their ships into the main, 
 
 To visit distant shores ; 
 And brought them back, full fraught with gain, 
 
 Which much increased their stores. 
 
 Led on by him, our soldiers bold 
 Against the foe advance; 
 
 And took, in spite of wet and cold, 
 Strong Cape Breton from France. 
 
A LAMENTATION. 245 
 
 Who from that fort the French did drive, 
 
 Shall he so soon be slain ? 
 While they, alas ! remain alive, 
 
 Who gave it back again? 
 
 From house to house, and place to place, 
 
 In paper doublet clad, 
 He passed and where he showed his face, 
 
 He made the heart full glad. 
 But cruel death, that spareth none, 
 
 Hath robbed us of him too; 
 Who through the land so long hath gone, 
 
 No longer now must go. 
 
 In senate he, like Caesar, fell, 
 
 Pierced through with many a wound. 
 He sunk, ah, doleful tale to tell ! 
 
 The members sitting round : 
 And ever since that fatal day 
 
 O ! had it never been, 
 Closely confined at home he lay, 
 
 And scarce was ever seen, 
 
 Until the last of March, when he 
 
 Submitted unto fate ; 
 In anno regis twenty-three, 
 
 ^tatis forty-eight. 
 Forever gloomy be that day, 
 
 When he gave up the ghost ; 
 For by his death, oh ! who can say, 
 
 What hath New England lost? 
 
246 JOSEPH GREEN. 
 
 Then, good Old Tenor, fare thee well, 
 
 Since thou art dead and gone ; 
 We mourn thy fate, e'en while we tell 
 
 The good things thou hast done, 
 Since the bright beams of yonder sun 
 
 Did on New England shine, 
 In all the land, there ne'er was known 
 
 A death so mourned as thine. 
 
 Of every rank are many seen, 
 
 Thy downfall to deplore; 
 For 'tis well known that thou hast been 
 
 A friend to rich and poor. 
 We'll o'er thee raise a silver tomb, 
 
 Long may that tomb remain. 
 To bless our eyes for years to come, 
 
 But wishes, ah ! are vain. 
 
 And so God bless our noble state, 
 
 And save us all from harm, 
 And grant us food enough to eat, 
 
 And clothes to keep us warm. 
 Send us a lasting peace, and keep 
 
 The times from growing worse; 
 And let us all in safety sleep, 
 
 With silver in our purse. 
 
JOHN OSBORN. 
 
 John Osborn was the son of a New England clergy- 
 man whose Arminian leanings had caused him to be 
 dismissed from his parish. He was born in Sandwich, 
 Massachusetts, in 171 3, and died at Middletown, 
 Connecticut, forty years later. Graduating at Har- 
 vard College in 1735, he studied theology, but falling 
 under suspicion of heresy, like his father, he was re- 
 fused ordination. He then studied medicine, was 
 admitted to practice, declined a tutorship at Harvard 
 on account of the celibacy then required there, and 
 marrying, removed to Middletown, where he spent 
 the rest of his life. He enjoyed considerable colo- 
 nial reputation as a poet, based mainly on the Whal- 
 ing Song here given, which is said to have long been 
 popular on the hardy vessels that tracked the Pacific 
 in search of their lucrative prey. Osborn' s other 
 verses are imitative and bad, but a few stanzas of his 
 song seem to have a truly poetic ring. 
 
 When eastward, clear of Newfoundland, 
 
 We stem the frozen pole, 
 We see the icy islands stand, 
 
 The northern billows roll, 
 
 may not be great poetry, but it is better than most 
 other colonials could write. Yet Osborn' s produc- 
 tion is sometimes spoken of with contempt, as, for ex- 
 ample, by the late Professor Moses Coit Tyler. 
 247 
 
248 JOHN OSBORN. 
 
 A WHALING SONG. 
 
 [Preserved in Kettell's " Specimens of Ameri- 
 can Poetry." 1829.] 
 
 When spring returns with western gales, 
 
 And gentle breezes sweep 
 The ruffling seas, we spread our sails 
 
 To plough the watery deep. 
 
 For killing northern whales prepared, 
 
 Our nimble boats on board, 
 With craft and rum (our chief regard) 
 
 And good provisions stored. 
 
 Cape Cod, our dearest native land, 
 
 We leave astern, and lose 
 Its sinking cliffs and lessening sands 
 
 While Zephyr gently blows. 
 
 Bold, hardy men, with blooming age, 
 
 Our sandy shores produce ; 
 With monstrous fish they dare engage, 
 
 And dangerous callings choose. 
 
 Now towards the early dawning east 
 
 We speed our course away, 
 With eager minds and joyful hearts, 
 
 To meet the rising day. 
 
 Then as we turn our wandering eyes, 
 We view one constant show ; 
 
A WHALING SONG. 249 
 
 Above, around, the circling skies, 
 The rolling seas below. 
 
 When eastward, clear of Newfoundland, 
 
 We stem the frozen pole, 
 We see the icy islands stand, 
 
 The northern billows roll. 
 
 As to the north we make our way, 
 
 Surprising scenes we find ; 
 We lengthen out the tedious day, 
 
 And leave the night behind. 
 
 Now see the northern regions, where 
 
 Eternal winter reigns : 
 One day and night fills up the year, 
 
 And endless cold maintains. 
 
 We view the monsters of the deep, 
 Great whales in numerous swarms ; 
 
 And creatures there, that play and leap, 
 Of strange, unusual forms. 
 
 When in our station we are placed, 
 
 And whales around us play, 
 We launch our boats into the main, 
 
 And swiftly chase our prey. 
 
 In haste we ply our nimble oars, 
 
 For an assault designed ; 
 The sea beneath us foams and roars, 
 
 And leaves a wake behind. 
 
250 JOHN OSBORN. 
 
 A mighty whale we rush upon, 
 
 And in our irons throw : 
 She sinks her monstrous body down 
 
 Among the waves below. 
 
 And when she rises out again, 
 
 We soon renew the fight ; 
 Thrust our sharp lances in amain, 
 
 And all her rage excite. 
 
 Enraged, she makes a mighty bound ; 
 
 Thick foams the whitened sea ; 
 The waves in circles rise around, 
 
 And widening roll away. 
 
 She thrashes with her tail around, 
 And blows her reddening breath ; 
 
 She breaks the air, a deafening sound, 
 While ocean groans beneath. 
 
 From numerous wounds, with crimson flood, 
 
 She stains the frothy seas, 
 And gasps, and blows her latest blood, 
 
 While quivering life decays. 
 
 With joyful hearts we see her die, 
 
 And on the surface lay ; 
 While all with eager haste apply 
 
 To save our deathful prey. 
 
THOMAS HUTCHINSON. 
 
 Thomas Hutchinson, last royal governor of 
 Massachusetts, and the best of the colonial historians, 
 was born in Boston September 9, 171 1, and died 
 at Brompton, England, June 3, 1780. He was a 
 descendant of that Ann Hutchinson whose trial 
 and banishment for heresy he describes in an ex- 
 tract here given. His great-grandfather Edward 
 had returned to Massachusetts, and the family had 
 attained distinction and wealth. Their most noted 
 representative was graduated at Harvard in 1727. 
 Broad-minded and receptive rather than studious, 
 he made himself a liberally educated man, but no 
 pedantic scholar. Four years in his father's counting- 
 house gave him business training and made him 
 methodically exact. In 1737 he was chosen select- 
 man for Boston, and almost immediately afterward, 
 representative to the General Court, in which he 
 vainly resisted the attempt to issue a depreciated 
 paper currency. His wise and patriotic counsels 
 were little heeded, but his integrity and ability ex- 
 torted recognition, and his prominence both in the 
 local politics of the colony and in its relations to the 
 mother country, led, in 1756, to his appointment as 
 lieutenant-governor, to which was shortly added the 
 office of chief justice (1760). He was the greatest 
 financier of the colonial period, and a just adminis- 
 
 251 
 
252 THOMAS HUTCHINSON. 
 
 trator, but his energetic administration made him 
 unpopular. His house was sacked by a mob in 
 1765, and his carefully collected library destroyed, 
 an irreparable loss to American historians. His con- 
 duct of affairs during the troubled years that followed 
 was vigorous and consistent with his principles, which 
 were not, however, those destined to triumph. In 
 1770 he was made governor, but four years later 
 was superseded by General Gage, and went to 
 England, followed by the execrations of the people 
 he had endeavored to serve. All his colonial prop- 
 erty was confiscated. Hutchinson, although a con- 
 vinced Tory, was an ardent patriot, whose Diary and 
 Letters (2 vols., 1 884-1 886) show how gladly he 
 would have returned to America. His History of 
 Massachusetts Bay (2 vols., 1 764-1 767, Vol. 3, 
 1828) bears witness to his judicial mind, and to a 
 distinct talent for historical research, but its style is 
 rather heavy, and there is a conspicuous lack of the his- 
 torical imagination. The work is, however, regarded 
 as an indispensable authority by historical students. 
 
 MRS. HUTCHINSON'S HERESIES. 
 
 [From the "History," Chap. I.] 
 
 There came over with Mr. Cotton, or about the 
 same time, Mr. Hutchinson and his family, who 
 had lived at Alford, in the neighborhood of Boston. 
 Mr. Hutchinson had a good estate, and was of good 
 reputation. His wife, as Mr. Cotton says, " was 
 well beloved, and all the faithful embraced her con- 
 
MRS. HUTCHINSON'S HERESIES. 253 
 
 ference and blessed God for her fruitful discourses." 
 After she came to New -England, she was treated 
 with respect, and much notice was taken of her 
 by Mr. Cotton, and other principal persons, and 
 particularly by Mr. Vane the governor. Her hus- 
 band served in the General Court several elections as 
 a representative for Boston, until he was excused at 
 the desire of the church. So much respect seems to 
 have increased her natural vanity. Countenanced 
 and encouraged by Mr. Vane and Mr. Cotton, she 
 advanced doctrines and opinions which involved the 
 colony in disputes and contentions ; and, being im- 
 proved to civil as well as religious purposes, had like 
 to have produced ruin both to church and state. 
 The vigilance of some, of whom Mr. Winthrop was 
 the chief, prevented and turned the ruin from the 
 country, upon herself and many of her family and 
 particular friends. Mr. Wheelwright, a zealous 
 minister, of character for learning and piety, was her 
 brother-in-law, and firmly attached to her, and finally 
 suffered with her. Besides the meetings for public 
 worship on the Lord's day, the stated lecture every 
 Thursday in Boston, and other occasional lectures in 
 other towns, there were frequent private meetings of 
 the brethren of the churches for religious exercises. 
 Mrs. Hutchinson thought fit to set up a meeting for 
 the sisters also, where she repeated the sermons 
 preached the Lord's day before, adding her remarks 
 and expositions. Her lectures made much noise, 
 and fifty or eighty principal women attended them. 
 At first they were generally approved of. After 
 some time, it appeared she had distinguished the 
 ministers and members of churches through the 
 
254 THOMAS HUTCHINSON. 
 
 country, a small part of them under a covenant of 
 grace, the rest under a convenant of works. The 
 whole colony was soon divided into two parties, 
 and however distant one party was from the other 
 in principle, they were still more so in affection. 
 The two capital errors with which she was charged, 
 were these : That the Holy Ghost dwells per- 
 sonally in a justified person ; and, that nothing of 
 sanctification can help to evidence to believers their 
 justification. From these two a great number of 
 others were said to flow, which were enumerated 
 and condemned at a synod held the next year. 
 
 HER TRIAL. 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 Mrs. Hutchinson was next called to her trial, 
 before the whole court and many of the elders. An 
 ancient manuscript of the trial at large having been 
 preserved, discovers nothing in her conduct but what 
 might naturally be expected from a high degree of 
 enthusiasm. Her notions of revelations do not seem 
 to have been altogether discountenanced by Mr. 
 Cotton himself. Her sentence upon record stands 
 thus : " Mrs. Hutchinson, the wife of Mr. William 
 Hutchinson, being convented for traducing the min- 
 isters and their ministry in the country, she declared 
 voluntarily her revelation, and that she should be 
 delivered, and the court ruined with her posterity, and 
 thereupon was banished, and in the meanwhile was 
 committed to Mr. Joseph Weld (of Roxbury) until 
 
HER TRIAL. 255 
 
 the court shall dispose of her. " Having received 
 her sentence from the court, she had a further trial 
 to go through in the church. She was first admon- 
 ished. Mr. Cotton says that Mr. Davenport and 
 he imagined they had convinced her of her errors, 
 and she presented what was called a recantation 
 under her hand, but at the same time professed that 
 she never was of any other judgment than what she 
 now held forth. The recantation is not preserved. 
 She had, no doubt, some fine-spun distinctions, too 
 commonly made use of in theological controversies, 
 to serve as a subterfuge if there be occasion, and 
 perhaps, as many other enthusiasts have done, she 
 considered herself divinely commissioned for some 
 great purpose, to obtain which she might think those 
 windings, subtleties, and insinuations lawful which 
 will hardly consist with the rules of morality. No 
 wonder she was immoderately vain when she found 
 magistrates and ministers embracing the novelties 
 advanced by her. The whole Church of Boston, a 
 few members excepted, were her converts. At 
 length she forsook the public assemblies, and set up 
 what she called a purer worship in her own family. 
 
 HER FATE. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 Mr. Hutchinson her husband sold his estate, and 
 removed with his wife and family first to Aquidneck 
 (Rhode Island) being one of the purchasers of that 
 island from the Indians, where, by the influence of 
 
256 THOMAS HUTCHINSON. 
 
 his wife, the people laid aside Mr. Coddington, and 
 three other magistrates, and chose him for their sole 
 ruler; but he dying about the year 1642, and she 
 being dissatisfied with the people of the place, she 
 removed to the Dutch country beyond New-Haven, 
 and the next year she and all her family which were 
 with her, being 16 persons, were killed by the In- 
 dians, except one daughter, whom they carried into 
 captivity. 
 
 RELIGIOUS OBSERVANCES. 
 
 [From the Same, Chap. IV.] 
 
 The ministers of the several churches in the town of 
 Boston have ever been supported by a free weekly con- 
 tribution. I have seen a letter from one of the prin- 
 cipal ministers of the colony expressing some doubts 
 of the lawfulness of receiving a support in any other 
 way. In the country towns, compulsory laws were 
 found necessary; and in the year 1654 the county 
 courts were empowered to assess upon the inhabitants 
 of the several towns which neglected the support of 
 the ministry a sum sufficient to make up the defect. 
 
 In Boston, after prayer and before singing, it was 
 the practice for several years for the minister to read 
 and expound a chapter. Whether it was because this 
 carried the service to too great a length, or any other 
 reason could be given for it, in a few years it was 
 laid aside, except when it came in place of a sermon. 
 Exceptions (may we not say cavils ?) have been 
 made, by some learned, serious ministers, against 
 
RELIGIOUS OBSERVANCES. 257 
 
 reading the Scriptures as part of the divine service 
 without an exposition. The other parts of religious 
 public worship, and the manner of administering the 
 sacraments, not differing from what is at this day 
 the practice of the churches of New England and of 
 the church of Scotland, it is unnecessary to take any 
 notice of them. 
 
 From a sacred regard to the religion of the Chris- 
 tian Sabbath, a scruple arose of the lawfulness of 
 calling the first day of the week Sunday ; and they 
 always, upon any occasion, whether in a civil or 
 religious relation to it, styled it either the Lord's-day 
 or the Sabbath. As the exception to the word Sun- 
 day was founded upon its superstitious, idolatrous 
 origin, the same scruple naturally followed with respect 
 to the names of all the other days of the week, and 
 of most of the months, which had the same origin ; 
 accordingly they changed Monday, Tuesday, etc. 
 into the second and third days of the week ; and 
 instead of March and April, used the first and second 
 months ; and instead of the third Tuesday in May, 
 the language was, the third third day of the third 
 month ; and so of the rest. All their records and 
 other writings are dated in the common form, which 
 they brought from England with them, until the year 
 1636, when Mr. Vane was governor ; but after that, 
 the alteration seems to have been very strictly observed 
 in all public and private writings and discourse, for 
 many years together. In the interregnum it much 
 obtained in England ; but the scruple there went off 
 at once, upon the Restoration ; here, it abated ; and 
 it continues scarce anywhere at this day, except 
 among the people called Quakers. Perhaps the great 
 
258 THOMAS HUTCHINSON. 
 
 dislike to some other peculiarities of that people caused 
 the decline of that custom in the colony, and made 
 them consider the singularity in the same light with 
 some others of the same nature, which they con- 
 demned. (They began the Sabbath the evening of 
 the last day of the week. It was some time before 
 this custom was settled. Mr. Hooker, in a letter 
 without date, but wrote about the year 1640, says, 
 " The question touching the beginning of the Sabbath 
 is now on foot among us, hath once been spoken to> 
 and we are to give in our arguments each to the 
 other, so that we may ripen our thoughts touching 
 that truth, and if the Lord will it may more fully 
 appear." And in another letter, March, 1640, 
 "Mr. Huit hath not answered our arguments against 
 the beginning the Sabbath at morning.") 
 
 That everything approaching to an acknowledg- 
 ment of the authority of the Pope, and his power of 
 canonization, might be avoided, they never used the 
 addition of saint when they spake of the Apostles and 
 the ancient Fathers of the Christian Church, and even 
 the usual names of places were made to conform. 
 The island of Saint Christophers was always written 
 Christophers, and by the same rule all other places to 
 which " Saint " had been prefixed. If any exception 
 was made, an answer was ready : Abraham, Isaac 
 and Jacob had as good right to this appellation as 
 Peter, James and John. 
 
 They laid aside the fasts and feasts of the Church 
 of England, and appointed frequently, as occasion 
 required, days of fasting and thanksgiving ; but, be- 
 sides these occasional fasts and thanksgivings, they 
 constantly, every spring, appointed a day for fasting 
 
RELIGIOUS OBSERVANCES. 259 
 
 and prayer, to implore the divine blessings upon their 
 affairs in the ensuing year ; and in the fall, a day of 
 thanksgiving and public acknowledgment of the favors 
 conferred upon them in the year past. If they more 
 readily fell into this practice from the example of the 
 People of God of old, yet they might well have been 
 justified without any example. It has continued 
 without interruption, I suppose, in any one instance, 
 down to this day. This is a custom to which no 
 devout person of any sect will take exception. By 
 a law of the colony, every person absenting himself 
 from the public worship, on these days, without suf- 
 ficient excuse, was liable to five shillings fine. It 
 would have been as well, perhaps, if this provision 
 had been omitted. 
 
 These were the principal of the special ecclesiasti- 
 cal or religious customs. There were some attempts 
 to introduce singularities into some of the churches ; 
 particularly Mr. Davenport, of New Haven, who 
 afterward removed to Boston, required all his congre- 
 gation to stand up whilst the text was naming ; the 
 principal reason which was given for it being that it 
 was the word of God, and deserved peculiar honor ; 
 and Mr. Williams, of Salem, required all the women 
 of his congregation to wear veils ; but neither of 
 these customs spread, or were of any long continu- 
 ance. It was observed, as to the latter, that so 
 uncouth an appearance, contrary to the practice of 
 the English nation, would probably draw more eyes 
 than if they were dressed like other women. Mr. 
 Cotton, of Boston, happening to preach at Salem soon 
 after this custom began, he convinced his hearers that 
 it had no sufficient foundation in the Scriptures : the 
 
260 THOMAS HUTCHINSON. 
 
 married women had no pretence to wear veils as vir- 
 gins ; neither married nor unmarried would choose to 
 do it from the example of Tamar the harlot, nor 
 need they do it for such purpose as Ruth did in her 
 widowhood. His sermon had so good an effect that 
 they were all ashamed of their veils, and never 
 appeared covered with them afterward. 
 
JOHN BARNARD. 
 
 The Rev. John Barnard of Marblehead is interest- 
 ing to us precisely because he is not distinguished. 
 Few historians or students of our literature, always 
 excepting Professor Tyler, seem to be aware of his 
 existence. He is a type of the Massachusetts Puritan, 
 as the eighteenth century made him, the new wine 
 straining the old bottles far more than he or his fellows 
 realized. We should know little of him, save the facts 
 to be gleaned from Parish records and tombstones, 
 were it not for the autobiography from which the fol- 
 lowing extracts are taken. This was prepared appar- 
 ently when the author was in his eighty-fifth year, at 
 the request of President Stiles of Yale, who wrote to 
 Mr. Barnard at Newport, October 3, 1767 : "With 
 great pleasure I have read your life again and again. 
 It has proved a feast to me. So long a life of a gen- 
 tleman of your figure and extensive connections must 
 contain much ecclesiastical history, abound in political 
 anecdote, and involve very interesting participations 
 in the public occurrences and transactions concerning 
 which you have the honor to say quorum pars mag?ia 
 fui." But interesting as the narrative is, it lay long 
 neglected, and even suffered some mutilation. It was 
 at last printed in Vol. 5 of the Third Series of 
 the Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society 
 in 1836. 
 
 261 
 
262 JOHN BARNARD. 
 
 From this autobiography we learn that Barnard was 
 born in Boston on November 6, 1681, and that at 
 the age of eight he was sent to the school under the 
 direction of the famous Mr. Ezekiel Cheever. At 
 fifteen he entered Harvard College, graduated at nine- 
 teen, studied for the ministry, and by 1702 could 
 say "I became almost a constant preacher both 
 on week days and on the Lord's Day, privately 
 and publicly, insomuch as that I have sometime 
 preached every day of the week but Saturdays, 
 and both parts of the Sabbath, before and after; and 
 as my friends who heard me said to good acceptance." 
 
 Barnard took his Master's degree in 1703, and in 
 1704 became assistant in the church at Yarmouth. 
 He accompanied the Acadian Expedition in 1707 as 
 chaplain, experienced the usual "signal deliverances, " 
 visited the Barbadoes and England in 1709, returned 
 to Massachusetts after more than a year's absence, 
 and in 17 14 became assistant at Marblehead, where 
 he was formally ordained in 1 7 1 6, and continued his 
 connection with the parish till his death on the 24th 
 of January, 1770. 
 
 NEW ENGLAND SCHOOLDAYS. 
 
 In the spring of my eighth year I was sent to 
 the grammar school, under the tuition of the aged, 
 venerable and justly famous Mr. Ezekiel Cheever. 
 But after a few weeks an odd accident drove me from 
 the school. There was an older lad entered the school 
 the same week with me ; we strove who should outdo ; 
 and he beat me by the help of a brother in the upper 
 
NEW ENGLAND SCHOOLDAYS. 263 
 
 class, who stood behind master with the Accidence 
 open for him to read out of; by which means he 
 could recite his . . . three and four times in a fore- 
 noon, and the same in the afternoon ; but I who had no 
 such help, and was obliged to commit all to memory, 
 could not keep pace with him ; so that he would be 
 always one lesson before me. My ambition could 
 not bear to be outdone, and in such a fraudulent man- 
 ner, and therefore I left the school. About this time 
 arrived a dissenting minister from England, who opened 
 a private school for reading, writing and Latin. My 
 good father put me under his tuition, with whom I 
 spent a year and a half. The gentleman receiving 
 but little encouragement, threw up his school, and 
 returned me to my father, and again I was sent to 
 my aged Mr. Cheever, who placed me in the lowest 
 class ; but finding I soon read through my . . . , in 
 a few weeks he advanced me to the . . . , and the 
 next year made me the head of it. 
 
 In the time of my absence from Mr. Cheever, it 
 pleased God to take to himself my dear mother, who 
 was not only a very virtuous, but a very intelligent 
 woman. She was exceedingly fond of my learning, 
 and taught me to pray. My good father also in- 
 structed me, and made a little closet for me to retire 
 to for my morning and evening devotion. But, alas ! 
 how childish and hypocritical were all my pretensions 
 to piety, there being little or no serious thoughts of 
 God and religion in me. 
 
 Though my master advanced me, as above, yet I 
 was a very naughty boy, much given to play, inso- 
 much that he at length openly declared, '« You Barnard, 
 
264 JOHN BARNARD. 
 
 I know you can do well enough if you will ; but you 
 are so full of play that you hinder your classmates 
 from getting their lessons ; and therefore, if any of 
 them cannot perform their duty, I shall correct you 
 for it." One unlucky day, one of my classmates did 
 not look into his book, and therefore could not say 
 his lesson, though I called upon him once and again 
 to mind his book ; upon which our master beat me. 
 I told master the reason why he could not say his 
 lesson was, his declaring he would beat me if any of 
 the class were wanting in their duty ; since which 
 this boy would not look into his book, though I called 
 upon him to mind his book, as the class could witness. 
 The boy was pleased with my being corrected, and 
 persisted in his neglect, for which I was still corrected, 
 and that for several days. I thought, in justice, I ought 
 to correct the boy, and compel him to a better temper ; 
 and therefore, after school was done, I went up to 
 him, and told him I had been beaten several times 
 for his neglect ; and since master would not correct 
 him I would, and I should do so as often as I was 
 corrected for him ; and then drubbed him heartily. 
 The boy never came to school any more, and so that 
 unhappy affair ended. 
 
 Though I was often beaten for my play, and my 
 little roguish tricks, yet I don't remember that I was 
 ever beaten for my book more than once or twice. 
 One of these was upon this occasion. Master put 
 our class upon turning ^Esop's Fables into Latin verse. 
 Some dull fellows made a shift to perform this to 
 acceptance ; but I was so much duller at this exer- 
 cise, that I could make nothing of it ; for which 
 master corrected me, and this he did two or three 
 
ABSENT TREATMENT. 265 
 
 days going. I had honestly tried my possibles to 
 perform the task ; but having no poetical fancy, nor 
 then a capacity opened of expressing the same idea by 
 a variation of phrases, though I was perfectly ac- 
 quainted with prosody, I found I could do nothing ; 
 and therefore plainly told my master that I had 
 diligently labored all I could to perform what he 
 required, and perceiving I had no genius for it, I 
 thought it was in vain to strive against nature any 
 longer ; and he never more required it of me. Nor 
 had I any thing of a poetical genius till after I had been 
 at College some time, when upon reading some of Mr. 
 Cowley's works, I was highly pleased, and a new 
 scene opened before me. 
 
 ABSENT TREATMENT FOR SCARLET 
 FEVER. 
 
 ... In June, 1693, in my twelfth year, 
 Sir Francis Wheeler, with his fleet, which had in 
 vain made an attempt upon Martinico, came to 
 Boston, and brought with him a violent and malignant 
 distemper, called the scarlet fever, by which he lost 
 many hundreds of his men. The distemper soon 
 spread in Boston, of which many persons died, and 
 that within two or three days of their being taken ill. 
 It pleased God I was seized with it, and through the 
 rampancy of the fever, and a violent pain at my heart, 
 which rendered every breath I drew to be as though 
 a sword had pierced me, I was so bad that life was 
 despaired of. On the third night, (I think,) it seemed 
 to me that a certain woman, wife of a doctor, who 
 
266 JOHN BARNARD. 
 
 used to supply my father's family with plasters upon 
 occasion, came and brought me some small dark 
 colored pills, and directed me to put one in my 
 mouth, and hold it there till it grew mellow, then 
 squeeze it flat betwixt my thumb and finger and 
 apply it to my right nipple ; it would soak in and 
 before I had used them all so, I should be well. I 
 followed the prescription, and when I had used the third 
 pill, my pain and fever left me, and I was well. My 
 tender father, very early the next morning, came into 
 my bedchamber, to inquire how it was with me. I 
 told him I was quite well, and intended to get up pres- 
 ently, and said the pills Mrs. (naming her) had given 
 me last night had perfectly cured me. He said to me, 
 " Child, I believe she was not here ; I heard nothing 
 of it." To confirm him I said,*' Sir, I have the remain- 
 ing four pills now in my hand," and put my hand out 
 of bed to show them, but they dropped out of my 
 hand into the bed. I then raised myself up to look for 
 them, but could not find them. He said to me, " I 
 am afraid, child, you are out of your senses." I said 
 to him, *' Sir, I am perfectly awake, and in my senses, 
 and find myself truly well." He left the room with 
 the supposition that I was delirious, and I saw by his 
 countenance that he was ready to give me over for 
 lost. He then inquired of all the house whether that 
 woman had been at <he house the day or evening 
 before. They all let him know that they had not 
 seen her here. He betook himself to his closet, and 
 in about an hour came to me again ; I continued firm 
 in the story I had told him. He talked to me of some 
 other things, and found in my answers that 1 was 
 thoroughly awake, and, as he now thought, under 
 
ABSENT TREATMENT. 267 
 
 the power of no distraction, was better satisfied, and 
 left me with a more placid countenance. By noon I 
 got up, and was perfectly recovered from my sickness. 
 I thought I would have given ever so much to know 
 what the pills were, that others might receive the 
 benefit of them. Finding that the above said woman 
 had not been at our house, and I was perfectly healed, 
 I could not help thinking that a merciful God had 
 sent an angel, as he did Isaiah to Hezekiah, to heal 
 me ; and to this very day, I cannot but esteem it 
 more than an ordinary dream, or the wild ramblings 
 of a heated imagination. It seemeth to me a sort of 
 heavenly vision. And what else can you, sir, make 
 of it ? The kind offices of the ministering spirits are, 
 doubtless, more than we are aware of. However, 
 thus has God mercifully appeared for my help, when 
 I was brought very low, and in this manner rescued 
 me from the jaws of death. Forever blessed be his 
 holy name ! But to return. 
 
 PHILOSOPHIC MATRIMONY. 
 
 The 1 8th of September, 171 8, I married Miss 
 Anna Woodbury, from Ipswich, an only child, whose 
 parents were both dead ; a young gentlewoman of 
 comely personage, and good fortune, but above all, 
 strictly virtuous, and of admirable economy ; who is 
 yet living, though now crippled by paralytic or rheu- 
 matic disorders in her right leg. It has pleased God 
 to deny children to us ; and we are satisfied with 
 the Divine allotment, which is always wisest and 
 best. 
 
268 JOHN BARNARD. 
 
 CHOOSING A COLLEGE PRESIDENT. 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Holyoke lived in the strictest 
 brotherly love and friendship with me in our two 
 separate churches in Marblehead, till it pleased God, 
 on March 23, in the year 1737, to remove by death 
 the Rev. Mr. Benjamin Wadsworth from his Presi- 
 dentship at the College, to a higher sphere of action 
 and honors, among the blessed above ; which neces- 
 sitated the Corporation and Overseers to look out for 
 another proper person to supply his place. Some of 
 the Overseers and Corporation were pleased to pro- 
 pose it to me to accept of the presidentship, inform- 
 ing me that many of them had their thoughts 
 upon me. But I gave them to understand that, 
 through long disuse, I looked upon myself so much 
 unacquainted with college literature, as utterly incapaci- 
 tated me for that service, and therefore, I could not, 
 in prudence or justice, accept of the offer, if it should 
 be made to me ; but I thought the Rev. Mr. 
 Holyoke the fittest person for that station of any I 
 knew in the Province. And attending upon Presi- 
 dent Wadsworth' s funeral, I took the opportunity, at 
 Cambridge, to mention the Rev. Mr. Holyoke to 
 several both of the Corporation and Overseers ; from 
 which time he became a candidate for the place, the 
 eyes of the people being generally fixed upon him. 
 Some of the Boston ministers were ready to think that 
 the choice should be made out of themselves, and could 
 not well bear it that there should be any thought about 
 those who lived in the country ; and therefore made 
 some exception to Mr. Holyoke, as that they should 
 vote for him if it were not for his principles. In the 
 
CHOOSING A COLLEGE PRESIDENT. 269 
 
 midst of this public talk I happened to be invited to 
 Gov. Belcher's table. While we were sitting together, 
 before dinner, with a Boston minister present, his 
 Excellency was pleased to ask me who I thought was 
 a proper person for President. I readily answered, 
 ff In my humble opinion there is no fitter person in 
 the Province than the Rev. Mr. Holyoke, of Marble- 
 head. ' ' Upon which the minister present said * * I should 
 think so too were it not" for his principles." I confess 
 I was nettled and said M Sir, do you know of any bad 
 principles he holds ? " He replied "No ; but he 
 should be glad to know his principles." I then said 
 to him, with some smartness, ?f Sir, I am surprised 
 that a gentleman of your character should insinuate 
 bad principles of a brother, when you say you know 
 of none ; especially since that gentleman has been 
 approved as a valuable minister among us for above 
 20 years." His Excellency then asked me, what I 
 thought of Mr. Holyoke' s qualifications. I answered 
 him, " May it please your Excellency, I think the 
 grand qualifications for a President are, a virtuous, 
 religious man, a man of learning, a gentleman and 
 one of good spirit for government ; and all of these 
 meet in Mr. Holyoke. He is universally known to be 
 a virtuous, religious man ; and were he but of com- 
 mon capacity with his brethren, yet his having lived 
 fourteen years at the College, and the greatest part of that 
 time a tutor there, gives him so much the advantage 
 above others, as leaves no room to call in question his 
 learning. That he is a gentleman in his behavior, 
 we all know, and so fitted for converse with all gentle- 
 man-strangers, who visit the College ; and I know no 
 man better qualified with a spirit for government, who 
 
270 JOHN BARNARD. 
 
 knows how to treat his equals and inferiors with due 
 civility, while he preserves a proper distance." 
 " Well ; " said his Excellency, f Mr. Barnard, I agree 
 with you in your qualifications of a President ; and if 
 a man had all the learning of Cicero, and sanctity of 
 St. Paul, but was destitute of a spirit for government, 
 he would not be fit for that place. But," said his 
 Excellency, "will you vouch, Mr. Barnard, for 
 Mr. Holyoke's Calvinistical principles ? " To which 
 I replied, " If more than thirty years' intimacy, and 
 more than twenty years' living in the same town 
 with him, and often conversing with him, and 
 scores of times hearing him preach, can lead me 
 into the knowledge of a man's principles, I think Mr. 
 Holyoke as orthodox a Calvinist as any man ; though 
 I look upon him too much of a gentleman, and of too 
 catholic a temper, to cram his principles down another 
 man's throat." "Then," said his Excellency, "I 
 believe he must be the man." 
 
 CLERICAL AMENITIES. 
 
 So long ago as the year 1727, I understood that 
 Mr. John Checkley (who was fixed afterward in your 1 
 parts and possibly known to you, ) was gone over to 
 England to take orders, and, (as I was told at Boston,) 
 with an eye upon Marblehead Church of England 
 which was then destitute. I knew the man to be void 
 of a liberal education, though he had got some Latin at 
 school, and that he was an indefatigable enemy to the 
 churches of this country, and a Non-juror to the British. 
 
 1 i.e. Dr. Stiles' of New Haven. 
 
CLERICAL AMENITIES. 27 I 
 
 Government ; for which reasons I consulted the Rev. 
 Mr. Holyoke, and we agreed to write to Dr. Gib- 
 son, then Bishop of London, if possible to prevent so 
 troublesome a man coming among us. Accordingly, 
 I drew a letter, which Mr. Holyoke signed with me, 
 and sent it, unsealed, enclosed in another, to Mr. 
 Henry Newman, a very worthy gentleman, whom I 
 knew in England, desiring him, if he approved of it, 
 to seal it and deliver it to his lordship ; but if not, to 
 destroy it. Mr. Newman wrote me word that he 
 not only highly approved it himself, but his lordship, 
 when he had read it, expressed himself as greatly 
 pleased with it ; and desired him to acquaint us that, 
 if he could find time, he would write us an answer 
 with his own hand, (which he did not,) and inform 
 us that he would take special care to appoint for the 
 church in our town, a good man, of catholic temper, 
 and loyal to the Government ; and it seemed, by 
 Mr. Newman's letter, as if his lordship had his eye 
 upon Mr. Price, who soon after was sent to Boston. 
 But the Church of England in Marblehead, hearing 
 of Mr. Pigot, at Providence, agreed with him, and 
 sent to his lordship to appoint him for them. He 
 complied with their request, and he was fixed for a 
 time among them, till he run from them. The con- 
 sequence of our letter was, the Bishop inquired of 
 our former Governor Shute, then in London, and 
 finding we had wrote the honest truth, in our char- 
 acter of Mr. Checkley, refused to admit him to 
 orders ; though afterward the Bishop of Exeter (if I 
 mistake not) did, and sent him to Narraganset. Thus 
 our town, and the churches of this Province, through 
 the favor of God, got rid of a turbulent, vexatious 
 
272 JOHN BARNARD. 
 
 and persecuting-spirited Non-juror. Blessed be God 
 for his kind dealings with us ! I have a copy of the 
 letter by me. 
 
 PROGRESS OF MARBLEHEAD. 
 
 Suffer me to turn aside, and take a view of the 
 very different state of the town, upon worldly ac- 
 counts, since I came into it. When I first came, 
 [in i 7 14] there were two companies of poor, smoke- 
 dried, rude, ill-clothed men, trained to no military 
 discipline but that of ** whipping the snake " as they 
 called it ; whereas now, [in 1 766] and for years 
 past, we are a distinct regiment, consisting of seven 
 full companies, well clad, of bright countenances, 
 vigorous and active men, so well trained in the use 
 of their arms, and the various motions and marches, 
 that I have heard some Colonels of other regiments, 
 and a Brigadier General say, they never saw through- 
 out the country, not in their own regiment, no, nor 
 in Boston, so goodly an appearance of spirited men, 
 and so well exercised a regiment. When I came, 
 there was not so much as one proper carpenter, nor 
 mason, nor tailor, nor butcher in the town, nor any- 
 thing of a market worth naming; but they had their 
 houses built by country workmen, and their clothes 
 made out of town, and supplied themselves with beef 
 and pork from Boston, which drained the town of its 
 money. But now we abound in artificers, and some 
 of the best, and our markets large, even to a full supply. 
 And, what above all I would remark, there was not 
 so much as one foreign trading vessel belonging to the 
 
PROGRESS OF MARBLEHEAD. 273 
 
 town, nor for several years after I came into it ; 
 though no town had really greater advantages in their 
 hands. The people contented themselves to be the 
 slaves that digged in the mines, and left the mer- 
 chants of Boston, Salem, and Europe to carry away 
 the gains ; by which means the town was always in 
 dismally poor circumstances, involved in debt to the 
 merchants more than they were worth \ nor could I 
 find twenty families in it that, upon the best exami- 
 nation, could stand upon their own legs ; and they 
 were generally as rude, swearing, drunken, and fight- 
 ing a crew, as they were poor. Whereas, not only 
 are the public ways vastly mended, but the manners 
 of the people greatly cultivated ; and we have many 
 gentlemanlike and polite families, and the very fisher- 
 men generally scorn the rudenesses of the former 
 generation. 
 
 I soon saw that the town had a price in its hands, 
 and it was a pity they had not a heart to improve it. 
 I therefore laid myself out to get acquaintance with the 
 English masters of vessels, that I might by them be 
 let into the mastery of the fish trade, and in a little 
 time I gained a pretty thorough understanding in it. 
 When I saw the advantages of it, I thought it my 
 duty to stir up my people, such as I thought would 
 hearken to me, and were capable of practising upon 
 the advice, to send the fish to market themselves, 
 that they might reap the benefit of it, to the enrich- 
 ing themselves, and serving the town. But, alas ! 
 I could inspire no man with courage and resolution 
 enough to engage in it, till I met with Mr. Joseph 
 Svvett, a young man of strict justice, great industry, 
 enterprising genius, quick apprehension, and firm 
 
274 JOHN BARNARD. 
 
 resolution, but of small fortune. To him I opened 
 myself fully, laid the scheme clearly before him, and 
 he hearkened unto me, and was wise enough to put 
 it in practice. He first sent a small cargo to Barba- 
 does. He soon found he increased his stock, built 
 vessels, and sent the fish to Europe, and prospered 
 in the trade, to the enriching of himself; and some 
 of his family, by carrying on the trade, have arrived 
 at large estates. The more promising young men 
 of the town, followed his example ; that now we 
 have between thirty and forty ships, brigs, scows, 
 and topsail schooners engaged in foreign trade. 
 From so small a beginning the town has risen into 
 its present flourishing circumstances, and we need no 
 foreigner to transport our fish, but are able ourselves 
 to send it all to the market. Let God have the 
 praise, who has redeemed the town from a state of 
 bondage into a state of liberty and freedom. 
 
BENJAMIN CHURCH. 
 
 Benjamin Church was a man of mixed fame, but 
 it is quite plain that he was one of the ablest char- 
 acters of his generation. He was born at Newport 
 in 1734, graduated at Harvard in 1754 an ^ studied 
 medicine in London, three years later (1757), 
 published his poem The Choice in the manner of 
 Pomfret, established quite a literary reputation, and 
 soon rose to considerable eminence as a physician in 
 Boston. He also dabbled in politics, and like his 
 friend, Samuel Adams, contributed numerous articles 
 to the periodicals. He took the patriotic side at 
 first, as in his strong satire The Times (1765) ; 
 but though talented, was unscrupulous, and he 
 offered secretly to sell his services to the Tories. 
 His real character not being known, he was chosen 
 to deliver the patriotic oration in the Old South 
 Meeting House on the victims of the Boston 
 Massacre. He was a leader in the Boston Tea 
 Party, and was made Surgeon General and Director 
 of Hospitals by the Provincial Congress (1775). 
 Soon afterwards his treasonable correspondence with 
 the British was discovered, and he was sentenced to 
 imprisonment for life ; but falling sick in prison, he 
 was finally allowed to leave the country. He em- 
 barked in 1776 for the West Indies, but the ship 
 in which he sailed was never heard from. His facile 
 reputation soon declined, and his talents hardly to-day 
 receive their due praise, although this, forsooth, is 
 not superlative. 
 
 275 
 
THE 
 
 CHOICE 
 
 A 
 
 POEM 
 
 After the manner of Mr. Promfret 
 
 BY A YOUNG GENTLEMAN. I 
 
 Boston: Printed and Sold by Edes and Gill in Queen-Street, 1757. 
 276 
 
MODEST DESIRES. 277 
 
 MODEST DESIRES. 
 
 If youthful Fancy might its Choice pursue, 
 And act as natural Reason prompts it to ; 
 If Inclination could dispose our State, 
 And human Will might govern future Fate ; 
 Remote from Grandeur, I'd be humbly wise, 
 And all the Glitter of a Court despise : 
 Unskil'd the Proud, or Vicious to commend, 
 To cringe to Insolence, or Fools attend ; 
 Within myself contented and secure, 
 Above what mean Ambition can endure ; 
 Nor yet so anxious to obtain a Name, 
 To bleed for Honour in the Fields of Fame ; 
 Empty Parade, is all that Heroes know, 
 Unless fair Virtue hover in the Show, 
 
 No needless Show my modest Dome should claim, 
 Neat and genteel without, within the same ; — 
 
 Thy mellow vintage, Lisbon ! should abound, 
 Pouring a mirthful Inspiration 'round ; 
 While laughing Bacchus baths within the Bowl, 
 Love, Mirth, and Friendship swallow up the Soul. 
 
 Nor these alone, should on my shelves recline, 
 But awful Pope ! majestically shine, 
 Unequal' d Bard ! Who durst thy Praise engage? 
 Not yet grown reverend with the Rust of Age ; 
 Sure Heav'n alone thy Art unrival'd taught, 
 To think so well, so well express the Thought ; 
 
278 BENJAMIN CHURCH. 
 
 What Villain hears thee, but regrets the Smart ? 
 But tears the lurking Demon from his Heart ? 
 Virtue attends thee, with the best Applause. 
 Conscious Desert ! great Victor in her Cause, 
 She faithful to thy Worth ; thy Name shall grace, 
 Beyond all Period, and beyond all Space : 
 Go, shine a Seraph and thy Notes prolong 
 For Angels only merit such a Song ! 
 
 FROM THE TIMES. 
 
 Pollio, be kind ! nor chide an early crime, 
 
 Spawn of chagrin, and labored waste of time ; 
 
 This heart misguides me with a bent so strong, 
 
 It mocks restraint, and boldly errs in song : 
 
 Thus crimes indulged, such vigorous growth obtain, 
 
 Your friendly caution frowns rebuke in vain. 
 
 'Tis not great Churchill's ghost that claims your ear 
 
 For even ghosts of wit are strangers here ; 
 
 The patriot-soul to other climes removed, 
 
 Well-pleased enjoys that liberty he loved ; 
 
 No pang resents for Wilkes to exile driven, 
 
 Exults that worth and Pratt are dear to heaven : 
 
 Young sure it is not, from whose honeyed lays 
 
 Streams a rank surfeit of redundant praise ; 
 
 For guilt like his what genius shall atone ? 
 
 Curse the foul verse that daubs a Stuart's throne. 
 
HEIRS OF THE PILGRIM. 279 
 
 TO THE HEIRS OF THE PILGRIM. 
 
 [From the Same.] 
 
 *A» >t* *4f "Jif ^^ 
 
 *f» *T* »X* *T* *T* 
 
 Fair liberty, our soul's most darling prize, 
 
 A bleeding victim flits before our eyes : 
 
 Was it for this our great forefathers rode 
 
 O'er a vast ocean to this bleak abode ! 
 
 When liberty was into contest brought, 
 
 And loss of life was but a second thought ; 
 
 By pious violence rejected thence, 
 
 To try the utmost stretch of providence ; 
 
 The deep, unconscious of the furrowing keel, 
 
 Essayed the tempest to rebuke their zeal ; 
 
 The tawny natives and inclement sky 
 
 Put on their terrors, and command to fly ; 
 
 They mock at danger ; what can those appall ? 
 
 To whom fair liberty is all in all. 
 
 See the new world their purchase, blest domain, 
 
 Where lordly tyrants never forged the chain ; 
 
 The prize of valor, and the gift of prayer, 
 
 Hear this and redden, each degenerate heir ! 
 
 Is it for you their honor to betray, 
 
 And give the harvest of their blood away ? 
 
 Look back with reverence, awed to just esteem, 
 
 Preserve the blessings handed down from them ; 
 
 If not, look forward, look with deep despair, 
 
 And dread the curses of your beggared heir. 
 
 What bosom beats not, when such themes excite ? 
 
 Be men, be gods, be stubborn in the right. 
 
THOMAS GODFREY AND 
 NATHANIEL EVANS. 
 
 Thomas Godfrey and Nathaniel Evans were so 
 closely related in friendship and literary labors that it is 
 natural to speak of them together. Both were Phila- 
 delphians, and both poets. The former, a son of the 
 philosophical glazier of the same name mentioned in 
 Franklin's Autobiography, was born December 4, 
 1736 ; he died in North Carolina, August 3, 1763, 
 from a fever contracted on a commercial voyage. He 
 had already spent three years in the Southern colony 
 as a purchasing agent, and while there had written a 
 poetical tragedy, The Pri?ice of Partbia, the first 
 important dramatic undertaking made in the Colonies. 
 He wrote also, and published, in the year of his 
 death, The Court of Fancy, a poem, suggested by 
 Chaucer's House of Fame, and bearing other marks 
 of imitativeness, yet on the whole giving evidence of 
 distinct poetic powers. His poems were issued with 
 a sketch by his friend Evans in 1767. The latter 
 also, who was born June 8, 1742, was a poet by 
 nature, and had been first a merchant, then a student 
 in the College of Philadelphia, and after ordination in 
 England in 1775, a missionary in New Jersey for the 
 Society for Propagating the Gospel. He died Octo- 
 ber 29, 1767, his poems appearing five years later 
 with a Memoir by the Rev. Dr. Smith. Like those of 
 Godfrey, the verses of Evans are distinctly immature. 
 280 
 
THE WISH. 28l 
 
 They have probably less power than those of the 
 elder victim of adverse fate, but they have in 
 compensation more charm. Godfrey's Court of 
 Fancy and Evans's Ode on the Prospect of 
 Peace, Ij6i, are too long for our pages, and are 
 not to be mutilated without loss, but the second of 
 the selections from Evans will probably leave the 
 reader with a pleasant feeling for both amiable devotees 
 of the Muse. 
 
 THE WISH. 
 
 (GODFREY.) 
 
 I only ask a moderate fate, 
 And, though not in obscurity, 
 I would not, yet, be placed too high ; 
 Between the two extremes I'd be, 
 Not meanly low, nor yet too great, 
 From both contempt and envy free. 
 
 If no glittering wealth I have, 
 Content of bounteous heaven I crave, 
 For that is more 
 
 Than all the Indian's shining store, 
 To be unto the dust a slave. 
 With heart, my little I will use, 
 Nor let pain my life devour, 
 Or for a griping heir refuse 
 Myself one pleasant hour. 
 
 No stately edifice to rear ; 
 My wish would bound a small retreat, 
 In temperate air, and furnished neat : 
 No ornaments would I prepare, 
 
282 THOMAS GODFREY. 
 
 No costly labors of the loom 
 Should e'er adorn my humble room ; 
 To gild my roof I naught require 
 But the stern Winter's friendly fire. 
 
 Free from tumultuous cares and noise, 
 If gracious Heaven my wish would give, 
 While sweet content augments my joys, 
 Thus my remaining hours I'd live. 
 By arts ignoble never rise, 
 The miser's ill-got wealth despise ; 
 But blest my leisure hours I'd spend, 
 The Muse enjoying, and my friend. 
 
 AMYNTOR. 
 
 (GODFREY.) 
 
 Long had Amyntor free from love remained ; 
 The God, enraged to see his power disdained, 
 Bent his best bow, and, aiming at his breast 
 The fatal shaft, he thus the swain addrest : 
 
 " Hear me, hear me, senseless rover, — 
 Soon thou now shalt be a lover, 
 
 Cupid will his power maintain ; 
 Haughty Delia shall enslave thee, 
 Thou, who thus insulting brav'st me, 
 
 Shall, unpitied, drag the chain." 
 
 He ceased, and quick he shot the pointed dart ; 
 Far short it fell, nor reached Amyntor' s heart ; 
 The angry God was filled with vast surprise ; 
 Abashed he stood, while thus the swain replies 
 
TO MAY. 283 
 
 "Think not, Cupid, vain deceiver, 
 I will own thy power ever, 
 
 Guarded from thy arts by wine ; 
 Haughty Beauty ne'er shall grieve me, 
 Bacchus still shall e'er relieve me, 
 
 All his rosy joys are mine ; 
 
 All his rosy joys are mine. 
 
 >> 
 
 TO MAY. 
 
 (evans.) 
 
 [Poems on Several OccAsroNs. 1772.] 
 
 Now had the beam of Titan gay 
 Ushered in the blissful May, 
 Scattering from his pearly bed, 
 Fresh dew on every mountain's head ; 
 Nature mild and debonair, 
 To thee, fair maid, yields up her care. 
 May, with gentle plastic hand, 
 Clothes in flowery robe the land ; 
 O'er the vales the cowslip spreads, 
 And eglantine beneath the shades ; 
 Violets blue befringe each fountain, 
 Woodbines lace each steepy mountain ; 
 Hyacinths ffieir sweets diffuse, 
 And the rose its blush renews ; 
 With the rest of Flora's train, 
 Decking lowly dale or plain. 
 
 Through creation's range, sweet May ! 
 Nature's children own thy sway — 
 Whether in the crystal flood, 
 Amorous, sport the finny brood ; 
 
284 NATHANIEL EVANS. 
 
 Or the feathered tribes declare 
 
 That they breathe thy genial air, 
 
 While they warble in each grove 
 
 Sweetest notes of artless love ; 
 
 Or their wound the beasts proclaim, 
 
 Smitten with a fiercer flame ; 
 
 Or the passions higher rise, 
 
 Sparing none beneath the skies, 
 
 But swaying soft the human mind 
 
 With feelings of ecstatic kind — 
 
 Through wide creation's range, sweet May ! 
 
 All nature's children own thy sway. 
 
 Oft will I, (e'er Phosphor's light 
 Quits the glimmering skirts of night) 
 Meet thee in the clover field, 
 Where thy beauties thou shalt yield 
 To my fancy, quick and warm, 
 Listening to the dawn's alarm, 
 Sounded loud by Chanticleer, 
 In peals that sharply pierce the ear. 
 And, as Sol his flaming car 
 Urges up the vaulted air, 
 Shunning quick the scorching ray, 
 I will to some covert stray, _ 
 Coolly bowers or latent dells, 
 Where light-footed Silence dwells, 
 And whispers to my heaven-born dream, 
 Fair Schuylkill, by thy winding stream ! 
 There I'll devote full many an hour, 
 To the still-fingered Morphean power, 
 And entertain my thirsty soul 
 With draughts from Fancy's fairy bowl ; 
 
ODE TO THOMAS GODFREY. 285 
 
 Or mount her orb of varied hue, 
 
 And scenes of heaven and earth review. 
 
 Nor in milder eve's decline, 
 As the sun forgets to shine, 
 And sloping down the ethereal plain, 
 Plunges in the western main, 
 Will I forbear due strain to pay 
 To the song-inspiring May ; 
 But as Hesper 'gins to move 
 Round the radiant court of Jove, 
 (Leading through the azure sky 
 All the starry progeny, 
 Emitting prone their silver light, 
 To re-illume the shades of night) 
 Then, the dewy lawn along, 
 I'll carol forth my grateful song, 
 Viewing with transported eye 
 The blazing orbs that roll on high, 
 Beaming lustre, bright and clear, 
 O'er the glowing hemisphere. 
 Thus from the early blushing morn, 
 Till the dappled eve's return, 
 Will I, in free unlabored lay, 
 Sweetly sing the charming May ! 
 
 ODE TO MY INGENIOUS FRIEND, MR. 
 THOMAS GODFREY. 
 
 While you, dear Tom, are forced to roam, 
 In search of fortune, far from home, 
 O'er bays, o'er seas and mountains ; 
 
286 NATHANIEL EVANS. 
 
 I too, debarred the soft retreat 
 Of shady groves, and murmur sweet 
 Of silver prattling fountains, 
 
 Must mingle with the bustling throng, 
 And bear my load of cares along, 
 
 Like any other sinner : 
 For, where' s the ecstasy in this, 
 To loiter in poetic bliss, 
 
 And go without a dinner ? 
 
 Flaccus, we know, immortal Bard ! 
 With mighty kings and statesmen fared, 
 
 And lived in cheerful plenty : 
 But now, in these degenerate days, 
 The slight reward of empty praise, 
 
 Scarce one receives in twenty. 
 
 Well might the Roman swan, along 
 The pleasing Tiber pour his song, 
 
 When blessed with ease and quiet ; 
 Oft did he grace Maecenas' board, 
 Who would for him throw by the lord, 
 
 And in Falernian riot. 
 
 But dearest Tom ! these days are past, 
 And we are in a climate cast 
 
 Where few the muse can relish ; 
 Where all the doctrine now that's ' "M, 
 Is that a shining heap of gold 
 
 Alone can man embellish. 
 
ODE TO THOMAS GODFREY. 287 
 
 Then since 'tis thus, my honest friend, 
 If you be wise, my strain attend, 
 
 And counsel sage adhere to ; 
 With me, henceforward, join the crowd, 
 And like the rest proclaim aloud, 
 
 That money is all virtue ! 
 
 Then may we both, in time, retreat 
 To some fair villa, sweetly neat, 
 
 ' To entertain the muses ; 
 And then life's noise and trouble leave — 
 Supremely blest, we'll never grieve 
 At what the world refuses. 
 
JONATHAN BOUCHER. 
 
 Jonathan Boucher was one of the most promi- 
 nent Loyalists during the Revolutionary Period, and is 
 included among colonial writers only on account of his 
 interesting sermon preached on the conclusion of 
 peace in 1763. He was born in England in 1738, 
 and emigrated when quite a young man to Virginia, 
 where he became tutor in a planter's family. A 
 neighboring parish having become vacant, he was 
 urged to take orders and fill it. He consented, was 
 ordained by the Bishop of London in 1762, and for 
 thirteen years did admirable work in Virginia and 
 Maryland, not confining his energies to his parishes, 
 however, but running a plantation, keeping a large 
 boarding school, and taking a keen interest in poli- 
 tics and literature. His wide attainments are shown 
 in his sermons, which are admirably written and 
 always interesting ; but his political and ecclesiastical 
 views were what most men call narrow. He was 
 an advocate of passive obedience, and preached so 
 strenuously against the Revolution that he was forced 
 to take refuge in England in 1775. There he re- 
 sided as Vicar of Epsom until his death, April 27, 
 1804. Five years before his death he published 
 A View of the Causes and Consequences of the Ameri- 
 can Revolution, which consisted of thirteen of his 
 sermons preached in Virginia and Maryland during 
 the exciting years of his ministry. These sermons 
 288 
 
BRITISH TREATMENT OF INDIANS. 289 
 
 were accompanied with elaborate and interesting 
 footnotes, one of which is given in our selections, and 
 a long preface. The book was dedicated to Wash- 
 ington, whom Boucher could not help admiring as a 
 man and still loving as a friend, however heartily he 
 detested his political views and actions. We may 
 take much the same attitude toward Boucher himself. 
 However heartily we may disagree with his most 
 cherished convictions, we must acknowledge him to 
 have been a man of great sincerity and nobility of 
 character, of unusual learning, and of a literary power 
 and charm which seem to have descended to his 
 well-known grandson, the late Mr. Locker-Lampson. 
 It is an interesting fact that Thackeray is said to 
 have prepared himself in part for writing The Vir- 
 ginians, by reading the letters that passed between 
 Washington and Boucher. A good discussion of 
 Boucher will be found in the first volume of Professor 
 Moses Coit Tyler's Literary History of the American 
 Revolution, where a useful bibliography is given. 
 
 BRITISH TREATMENT OF THE INDIANS. 
 
 [From a Sermon "On the Peace in 1763" 
 given in "A View of the Causes and Con- 
 sequences of the American Revolution." 
 London, 1797.] 
 
 If we may judge from anything that has yet been 
 attempted concerning them, [the Indians] they have 
 been looked upon as untamed, and untameable mon- 
 sters ; whom, like the devoted nations around Judea, 
 
290 JONATHAN BOUCHER. 
 
 it was a kind of religion with white men to exter- 
 minate. We have treated them with a rigor and 
 severity equally unsuitable to the genius of our govern- 
 ment, and the mild spirit of our religion. I hope, 
 indeed, Britons have never yet so disgraced their 
 national character as to have shown towards them 
 so much internecine fury as the Spaniards at first 
 showed towards the Aborigines of the Southern 
 Continent. Yet, could the poor Indian be but his 
 own historian ; and, from his own experience, and 
 his own feelings, relate all that has happened since 
 our arrival in America, it would appear (if I am not 
 much mistaken) that he has not derived so much 
 benefit, as we are apt to flatter ourselves, from being 
 subjected to Britons, rather than to Spaniards. 
 
 I own to you, I have not seldom blushed at their 
 accounts of the treatment they have experienced from 
 white men : but, I trust, the period is not far distant, 
 when, for our own sakes, as well as for theirs, we 
 shall endeavor to diffuse political security and happi- 
 ness to the Indian nations with whom we have any 
 intercourse ; and to convert them into free men, 
 useful subjects, and good Christians. 
 
 "SAVAGE HEROISM AND CIVILIZED 
 BARBARITY." 
 
 [From a Footnote to the Above Passage.] 
 
 I hope to be pardoned for recording here an in- 
 stance or two (from many which occur to me) of 
 savage heroism and civilized barbarity. They were 
 
"HEROISM AND BARBARITY.'' 29 1 
 
 related to me on good authority ; and, I believe, 
 have never yet appeared in print. — "A gentleman 
 in Maryland, well known for being the terror of 
 Indians, having rambled into the woods with his son 
 (then very young) espied an old Indian coming to 
 his store (i.e. warehouse) to trade, as was usual in 
 times of peace. The father, concealing himself and 
 his boy behind a fallen tree, lay there, till the Indian, 
 as far from suspecting any danger as he was from 
 intending any mischief, got within reach of his 
 gun. The boy was then directed to fire. He did 
 so ; and killed his man : for no reason whatever 
 but that he might be able to say he had killed his 
 man." The person from whom I had this story, 
 assured me it was related to him by one of the family 
 as a meritorious fact. 
 
 " A party of white people from one of the 
 frontier settlements of Virginia, once went out against 
 a body of Indians, who were in arms to oppose a 
 small colony of settlers, who had taken possession of 
 some lands, which the Indians alleged they had never 
 sold. Indians remonstrate with their tomahawks ; 
 and therefore now declared war by driving off those 
 whom they adjudged to be encroachers. The whites 
 were not of a temper to be intimidated : they re- 
 solved, and were soon prepared, to attack the 
 Indians in their turns ; who, being fallen upon when 
 they were off their guard, and finding themselves 
 likely to be overpowered, fairly took to their heels. 
 Among them was a young squaw, with an infant in 
 her arms. She was supposed to belong to a person 
 of some note, from her dress being composed almost 
 entirely of silk handkerchiefs. Checked in her speed 
 
292 JONATHAN BOUCHER. 
 
 by the burthen of her helpless charge, she hoped to 
 escape by hiding herself and her child among the 
 weeds of a marsh. The thought showed she pos- 
 sessed great presence of mind ; but, alas ! it was of 
 no avail. The chieftain of the whites (whose name 
 I forbear to mention) espied her, and took his aim. 
 This she saw ; and being sensible also that she must 
 fall, (for, when riflemen have a fair shot, they are 
 rarely known to miss their object,) her last and only 
 care was, if possible, to preserve her babe. With 
 this hope, she instantly turned it from her back to 
 her breast ; that she alone might receive the ball. 
 And even when she fell, by a kind instinct of 
 nature (of the true force of which in such a case 
 mothers only are, perhaps, the proper judges), she 
 was anxious and careful so to fall as that her child 
 might not be hurt." I am shocked to relate that both 
 the mother and her babe were killed and scalped. 
 
 A SLAVE-HOLDER ON SLAVERY. 
 
 [From the Same. Footnotes are in the Main 
 Omitted.] 
 
 But Indians are by no means the sole or chief ob- 
 jects of our present attention : the united motives of 
 interest and humanity call on us to bestow some con- 
 sideration on the case of those sad outcasts of society, 
 our negro slaves : for my heart would smite me, were 
 I not, in this hour of prosperity, to entreat you (it 
 being their unparalleled hard lot not to have the 
 power of entreating for themselves) to permit them 
 to participate in the general joy. 
 
A SLAVE-HOLDER ON SLAVERY. 293 
 
 Even those who are the sufferers can hardly be 
 sorry when they see wrong measures carrying their 
 punishment along with them. Were an impartial 
 and competent observer of the state of society in these 
 middle colonies asked whence it happens that Vir- 
 ginia and Maryland (which were the first planted, 
 and which are superior to many colonies, and inferior 
 to none, in point of natural advantage) are still so 
 exceedingly behind most of the other British trans- 
 Atlantic possessions in all those improvements which 
 bring credit and consequence to a country ? — he 
 would answer — They are so, because they are culti- 
 vated by slaves. I believe it is capable of demon- 
 stration that, except the immediate interest which 
 every man has in the property of his slaves, it would 
 be for every man's interest that there were no slaves: 
 and for this plain reason, because the free labor of a 
 free man, who is regularly hired and paid for the 
 work which he does, and only for what he does, is, 
 in the end, cheaper than the extorted eye-service of a 
 slave. Some loss and inconvenience would, no 
 doubt, arise from the general abolition of slavery in 
 these colonies : but, were it done gradually, with 
 judgment, and with good temper, I have never yet 
 seen it satisfactorily proved that such inconvenience 
 would either be great or lasting. North American 
 or West Indian planters might, possibly, for a few 
 years, make less tobacco, or less rice, or less sugar ; 
 the raising of which might also cost them more ; but 
 that disadvantage would probably soon be amply 
 compensated to them, by an advanced price, or 
 (what is the same thing) by the reduced expense 
 of cultivation. 
 
294 JONATHAN BOUCHER. 
 
 With all my abhorrence of slavery, I feel in my- 
 self no disposition to question either its lawfulness or 
 its humanity. Its lawfulness has again and again 
 been clearly proved : and if it is sometimes cruel, it is 
 so only from being abused. But, if I am not much 
 mistaken, more harm than good has been done by 
 some late publications on the subject of slavery [In 
 the Virginia newspapers, by Mr. Arthur Lee] , a 
 subject which, of all others, seems to be the least 
 proper for a mere rhetorician. Thus much, how- 
 ever, I may be permitted to observe, that, in no 
 other country was slavery so well regulated as it is in 
 the British colonies. In some respects I hope it is 
 on a better footing than it ever was, or is, anywhere 
 else : but it is surely worse in this, that here, in one 
 sense, it never can end. An African slave, even 
 when made free, supposing him to be possessed even 
 of talents and virtue, can never, in these colonies, be 
 quite on terms of equality with a free white man. 
 Nature has placed insuperable barriers in his way. 
 This is a circumstance of great moment ; though, I 
 think, it has not often been adverted to by popular 
 writers. 
 
 If ever these colonies now filled with slaves, be 
 improved to their utmost capacity, an essential part 
 of the improvement must be the abolition of slavery. 
 Such a change would hardly be more to the advantage 
 of the slaves, than it would be to their owners. An 
 ingenious French writer [Montesquieu, Spirit of Laws, 
 book xv. chap, i] well observes, that "the state 
 of slavery is, In its own nature, bad : it is neither 
 useful to the master, nor to the slave. Not to the 
 slave, because he can do nothing through a motive of 
 
A SLAVE-HOLDER ON SLAVERY. 295 
 
 virtue ; not to the master, because, by having an 
 unlimited authority over his slaves, he insensibly accus- 
 toms himself to the want of all moral virtues, and 
 from thence grows fierce, hasty, severe, voluptuous, 
 and cruel." 
 
 I do you no more than justice in bearing witness, 
 that in no part of the world were slaves ever better 
 treated than, in general, they are in these colonies. 
 That there are exceptions, needs not be concealed : 
 in all countries there are bad men. And shame be to 
 those men who, though themselves blessed with free- 
 dom, have minds less liberal than the poor creatures 
 over whom they so meanly tyrannize ! Even your 
 humanity, however, falls short of their exigences. 
 In one essential point, I fear, we are all deficient : 
 they are nowhere sufficiently instructed. I am far 
 from recommending it to you, at once to set them all 
 free ; because to do so would be an heavy loss to 
 you, and probably no gain to them : but I do entreat 
 you to make them some amends for the drudgery of 
 their bodies by cultivating their minds. By such 
 means only can we hope to fulfil the ends, which, we 
 may be permitted to believe, Providence had in view 
 in suffering them to be brought among us. You may 
 unfetter them from the chaifis of ignorance ; you may 
 emancipate them from the bondage of sin, the worst 
 slavery to which they can be subjected : and by thus 
 setting at liberty those that are bruised, though they 
 still continue to be your slaves, they shall be deliv- 
 ered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious 
 liberty of the children of God. 
 
JOHN WOOLMAN. 
 
 John Woolman, the great Quaker preacher and 
 social reformer, was born at Northampton, Burlington 
 County, New Jersey, in 1720, and died of smallpox 
 while on a visit to the English Friends, at York, 
 October 7, 1772. His early years were passed on 
 a farm and as clerk in a store, but he showed interest 
 in mission work by teaching poor children, and about 
 1 741, after some experience in preaching at Friends' 
 Meetings, he felt a call to visit various bodies of his 
 sect throughout the colonies. To further this design 
 he learned the trade of tailor, which he practiced on 
 his itinerant journeys. These began in 1746 by a 
 visit to Virginia, from which time his abhorrence of 
 slavery became rooted, and the rest of his life was 
 passed in such missions which covered much of the 
 Atlantic region and included a visit to the Indians of 
 the Susquehanna in 1763. His journal of his mis- 
 sionary travels, first published in 1775, was reedited 
 by the poet Whittier in 187 1. He wrote also Some 
 Considerations on the Keeping of Negroes (1753— 
 1762), and several other works of religious or ethical 
 purport. No more sincere revelation of the workings 
 of a pure and benevolent spirit than is contained in 
 his Journal can easily be found in literature. Its 
 style is simple and has been highlv praised, especially 
 by Charles Lamb. The defects of the book are those 
 296 
 
DOMESTIC EVENTS. 297 
 
 of the man, such as over-scrupulousness of conscience, 
 not to say morbidity, and lack of intellectual breadth 
 as well as of aesthetic sensibility ; but these are plainly 
 the defects of his qualities, and in the presence of his 
 altruistic piety, criticism seems impertinent. 
 
 DOMESTIC EVENTS AND SCRUPLES OF 
 CONSCIENCE. 
 
 [From the "Journal," 1772, Chap. III.] 
 
 About this time, believing it good for me to settle, 
 and thinking seriously about a companion, my heart 
 was turned to the Lord, with desire that he would 
 give me wisdom to proceed therein agreeably to his 
 will ; and he was pleased to give me a well-inclined 
 damsel, Sarah Ellis ; to whom I was married the 1 8th 
 day of the eighth month, in the year 1749. 
 
 In the fall of the year 1750, died my father, 
 Samuel Woolman, with a fever, aged about sixty 
 years. 
 
 In his lifetime he manifested much care for us his 
 children, that in our youth we might learn to fear the 
 Lord ; often endeavoring to imprint in our minds the 
 true principles of virtue, and particularly to cherish in 
 us a spirit of tenderness, not only towards poor peo- 
 ple, but also towards all creatures of which we had 
 the command. 
 
 After my return from Carolina, in the year 1746, 
 I made some observations on keeping slaves, which 
 some time before his decease I showed him. He 
 perused the manuscript, proposed a few alterations, 
 
298 JOHN WOOLMAN. 
 
 and appeared well satisfied that I found a concern on 
 that account. In his last sickness, as I was watching 
 with him one night, he being so far spent that there 
 was no expectation of his recovery, but had the per- 
 fect use of his understanding, he asked me concern- 
 ing the manuscript, whether I expected soon to 
 proceed to take the advice of Friends in publishing 
 it ; and, after some conversation thereon, said, I have 
 all along been deeply affected with the oppression of 
 the poor negroes ; and now, at last, my concern for 
 them is as great as ever. 
 
 By his direction, I had written his will in a time 
 of health, and that night he desired me to read it to 
 him, which I did, and he said it was agreeable to his 
 mind. He then made mention of his end, which he 
 believed was now near, and signified that, though he 
 was sensible of many imperfections in the course of 
 his life, yet his experience of the power of truth, and 
 of the love and goodness of God from time to time, 
 even until now, was such that he had no doubt but 
 that, in leaving this life, he should enter into one 
 more happy. 
 
 The next day his sister Elizabeth came to see him, 
 and told him of the decease of their sister Ann, who 
 died a few days before. He said, I reckon sister 
 Ann was free to leave this world? Elizabeth said 
 she was. He then said, I also am free to leave it ; 
 and being in great weakness of body, said, I hope I 
 shall shortly go to rest. He continued in a weighty 
 frame of mind, and was sensible until near the last. 
 
 On the second day of the ninth month, in the year 
 1 75 1, feeling drawings in my mind to visit friends at 
 the Great Meadows, in the upper part of West Jersey, 
 
DOMESTIC EVENTS. 299 
 
 with the unity of our monthly meeting, I went there, 
 and had some searching, laborious exercise amongst 
 friends in those parts, and found inward peace therein. 
 
 In the ninth month of the year 1753, in company 
 with my well-esteemed friend John Sykes, and with 
 the unity of Friends, I travelled about two weeks, 
 visiting Friends in Buck County. We labored in 
 the love of the gospel, according to the measure 
 received ; and, through the mercies of him who is 
 strength to the poor who trust in him, we found 
 satisfaction in our visit. In the next winter, way 
 opening to visit Friends' families within the compass 
 of our monthly meeting, partly by the labors of two 
 Friends from Pennsylvania, I joined in some part of 
 the work ; having had a desire for some time that it 
 might go forward amongst us. 
 
 About this time, a person at some distance lying 
 sick, his brother came to me to write his will. I 
 knew he had slaves ; and asking his brother, was told 
 he intended to leave them as slaves to his children. 
 As writing is a profitable employ, and as offending 
 sober people was disagreeable to my inclination, I 
 was straitened in my mind ; but as I looked to the 
 Lord, he inclined my heart to his testimony. I told 
 the man that I believed the practice of continuing 
 slavery to this people was not right, and had a scruple 
 in my mind against doing writings of that kind ; that, 
 though many in our Society kept them as slaves, still 
 I was not easy to be concerned in it, and desired to 
 be excused from going to write the will. I spake to 
 him in the fear of the Lord ; and he made no reply 
 to what I said, but went away : he also had some 
 concern in the practice, and I thought he was dis- 
 
300 JOHN WOOLMAN. 
 
 pleased with me. In this case, I had a fresh con- 
 firmation that acting contrary to present outward 
 interests, from a motive of divine love, and in regard 
 to truth and righteousness, and thereby incurring the 
 resentments of people, opens the way to a treasure 
 better than silver, and to a friendship* exceeding the 
 friendship of men. 
 
 The manuscript before mentioned having laid by 
 me several years, the publication of it rested weightily 
 upon me ; and this year I offered it to the revisal of 
 Friends, who, having examined and made some small 
 alterations in it, directed a number of copies thereof 
 to be published and dispersed amongst Friends. 
 
 CONVERSATIONS AND THOUGHTS ON 
 SLAVERY. 
 
 [From the Same, Chap. IV.] 
 
 Feeling the exercise in relation to a visit to the 
 Southern Provinces to increase upon me, I acquainted 
 our Monthly Meeting therewith, and obtained their 
 certificate. Expecting to go alone, one of my brothers 
 who lived in Philadelphia, having some business in 
 North Carolina, proposed going with me part of the 
 way ; but as he had a view of some outward affairs, 
 to accept of him as a companion was some difficulty 
 with me, whereupon I had conversation with him at 
 sundry times. At length feeling easy in my mind, I 
 had conversation with several elderly Friends of Phila- 
 delphia on the subject, and he obtaining a certificate 
 suitable to the occasion, we set off in the fifth month, 
 
THOUGHTS ON SLAVERY. 301 
 
 1757. Coming to Nottingham week-day meeting, 
 we lodged at John Churchman's, where I met with 
 our friend, Benjamin Burlington, from New England, 
 who was returning from a visit to the Southern Prov- 
 inces. Thence we crossed the river Susquehanna, 
 and lodged at William Cox's in Maryland ; and soon 
 after I entered this province a deep and painful exer- 
 cise came upon me, which I often had some feeling 
 of, since my mind was drawn toward these parts, and 
 with which I had acquainted my brother before we 
 agreed to join as companions. 
 
 As the people in this and the Southern Provinces 
 live much on the labor of slaves, many of whom are 
 used hardly, my concern was that I might attend with 
 singleness of heart to the voice of the true Shepherd, 
 and be supported as to remain unmoved at the faces 
 of men. 
 
 As it is common for Friends on such a visit to have 
 entertainment free of cost, a difficulty arose in my mind 
 with respect to saving my money by kindness received 
 from what appeared to me to be the gain of oppression. 
 
 Receiving a gift, considered as a gift, brings the 
 receiver under obligations to the benefactor, and has 
 a natural tendency to draw the obliged into a party with 
 the giver. To prevent difficulties of this kind, and to 
 preserve the minds of judges from any bias, was that 
 Divine prohibition : *« Thou shalt not receive any 
 gift ; for a gift blindeth the wise, and perverteth the 
 words of the righteous." (Exod. xxiii. 8.) As the 
 disciples were sent forth without any provision for their 
 journey, and our Lord said the workman is worthy 
 of his meat, their labor in the gospel was considered 
 as a reward for their entertainment, and therefore not 
 
302 JOHN WOOLMAN. 
 
 received as a gift ; yet, in regard to my present jour- 
 ney, I could not see my way clear in that respect. 
 The difference appeared thus : the entertainment the 
 disciples met with was from them whose hearts God 
 had opened to receive them, from a love to them and 
 the truth they published ; but we, considered as mem- 
 bers of the same religious society, look upon it as a 
 piece of civility to receive each other in such visits ; 
 and such reception, at times, is partly in regard to 
 reputation, and not from an inward unity of heart and 
 spirit. Conduct is more convincing than language, 
 and where people, by their actions, manifest that the 
 slave-trade is not so disagreeable to their principles but 
 that it may be encouraged, there is not a sound unit- 
 ing with some Friends who visit them. 
 
 The prospect of so weighty a work, and of being 
 so distinguished from many whom I esteemed before 
 myself, brought me very low, and such were the con- 
 flicts of my soul that I had a near sympathy with the 
 Prophet, in the time of his weakness, when he said : 
 •« If thou deal thus with me, kill me, I pray thee, if I 
 have found favor in thy sight." (Num. xi. 15.) But 
 I soon saw that this proceeded from the want of a full 
 resignation to the Divine will. Many were the afflic- 
 tions which attended me, and in great abasement, with 
 many tears, my cries were to the Almighty for his 
 gracious and fatherly assistance, and after a time of 
 deep trial I was favored to understand the state men- 
 tioned by the Psalmist more clearly than ever I had 
 done before ; to wit : " My soul is even as a weaned 
 child." (Psalm cxxxi. 2.) Being thus helped to 
 sink down into resignation, I felt a deliverance from that 
 tempest in which I had been sorely exercised, and ir 
 
THOUGHTS ON SLAVERY. 303 
 
 calmness of mind went forward, trusting that the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, as I faithfully attended to him, would be 
 a counsellor to me in all difficulties, and that by his 
 strength I should be enabled even to leave money 
 with the members of society where I had entertain- 
 ment, when I found that omitting it would obstruct 
 that work to which I believed he had called me. As 
 I copy this after my return, I may here add, that 
 oftentimes I did so under a sense of duty. The way 
 in which I did it was thus : when I expected soon to 
 leave a Friend's house where I had entertainment, if 
 I believed that I should not keep clear from the gain 
 of oppression without leaving money, I spoke to one 
 of the heads of the family privately, and desired them 
 to accept of those pieces of silver, and give them to 
 such of their negroes as they believed would make the 
 best use of them ; and at other times I gave them to 
 the negroes myself, as the way looked clearest to me. 
 Before I came out, I had provided a large number of 
 small pieces for this purpose and thus offering them to 
 some who appeared to be wealthy people was a trial 
 both to me and them. But the fear of the Lord so 
 covered me at times that my way was made easier 
 than I expected ; and few, if any, manifested any 
 resentment at the offer, and most of them, after some 
 conversation, accepted of them. . . . 
 
 We pursued our journey without appointing meet- 
 ings, being pressed in my mind to be at the Yearly Meet- 
 ing in Virginia. In my travelling on the road, I often 
 felt a cry rise from the centre of my mind, thus : 
 **■ O Lord, I am a stranger on the earth, hide not 
 thy face from me." On the 11th, we crossed the 
 rivers Patowmack and Rapahannock, and lodged at 
 
304 JOHN WOOLMAN. 
 
 Port Royal. On the way we had the company of 
 a colonel of the militia, who appeared to be a thought- 
 ful man. I took occasion to remark on the difference 
 in general betwixt a people used to labor moderately 
 for their living, training up their children in frugality 
 and business, and those who live on the labor of 
 slaves ; the former, in my view, being the most 
 happy life. He concurred in the remark, and 
 mentioned the trouble arising from the untoward, 
 slothful disposition of the negroes, adding that one 
 of our laborers would do as much in a day as two of 
 their slaves. I replied, that free men whose minds 
 were properly on their business, found a satisfaction in 
 improving, cultivating, and providing for their families ; 
 but negroes, laboring to support others who claim them 
 as their property, and expecting nothing but slavery dur- 
 ing life, had not the like inducement to be industrious. 
 After some further conversation I said, that men 
 having power too often misapplied it ; that though 
 we made slaves of the negroes, and the Turks made 
 slaves of the Christians, I believed that liberty was 
 the natural right of all men equally. This he did 
 not deny, but said the lives of the negroes were so 
 wretched in their own country that many of them 
 lived better here than there. I replied, "There is 
 great odds in regard to us on what principle we act ; " 
 and so the conversation on that subject ended. I 
 may here add that another person, some time after- 
 wards, mentioned the wretchedness of the negroes, 
 occasioned by their intestine wars, as an argument in 
 favor of our fetching them away for slaves. To 
 which I replied, if compassion for the Africans, on 
 account of their domestic troubles, was the real mo- 
 
THOUGHTS ON SLAVERY. 305 
 
 tive of our purchasing them, that spirit of tenderness 
 being attended to, would incite us to use them kindly, 
 that, as strangers brought out of affliction, their lives 
 might be happy among us. And as they are human 
 creatures, whose souls are as precious as ours, and 
 who may receive the same help and comfort from the 
 Holy Scriptures as we do, we could not omit suitable 
 endeavors to instruct them therein ; but that while 
 we manifest by our conduct that our views in pur- 
 chasing them are to advance ourselves, and while our 
 buving captives taken in war animates those parties to 
 push on the war, and increase desolation amongst 
 them, to say they live unhappily in Africa is far from 
 being an argument in our favor. . . . 
 
 As I was riding along [in Virginia] in the morn- 
 ing, my mind was deeply affected in a sense I had of 
 the need of Divine aid to support me in the various 
 difficulties which attended me, and in uncommon dis- 
 tress of mind I cried in secret to the Most High, " O 
 Lord be merciful, I beseech thee, to thy poor afflicted 
 creature!" After some time, I felt inward relief, 
 and, soon after, a Friend in company began to talk 
 in support of the slave-trade, and said the negroes 
 were understood to be the offspring of Cain, their 
 blackness being the mark which God set upon him 
 after he murdered Abel his brother ; that it was the 
 design of Providence they should be slaves, as a con- 
 dition proper to the race of so wicked a man as Cain 
 was. Then another spake in support of what had 
 been said. To all which I replied in substance as 
 follows : that Noah and his family were all who sur- 
 vived the flood, according to Scripture ; and as Noah 
 was of Seth's race, the family of Cain was wholly 
 
306 JOHN WOOLMAN. 
 
 destroyed. One of them said that after the flood 
 Ham went to the land of Nod and took a wife ; that 
 Nod was a land far distant, inhabited by Cain's race, 
 and that the flood did not reach it ; and as Ham was 
 sentenced to be a servant of servants to his brethren, 
 these two families, being thus joined, were un- 
 doubtedly fit only for slaves. I replied, the flood 
 was a judgment upon the world for their abomina- 
 tions, and it was granted that Cain's stock was the 
 most wicked, and therefore unreasonable to suppose 
 that they were spared. As to Ham's going to 
 the land of Nod for a wife, no time being fixed, 
 Nod might be inhabited by some of Noah's family 
 before Ham married a second time ; moreover the 
 text saith ' * That all flesh died that moved upon the 
 earth." (Gen. vii. 21.) I further reminded them 
 how the prophets repeatedly declare "that the son 
 shall not suffer for the iniquity of the father, but 
 every one be answerable for his own sins." I was 
 troubled to perceive the darkness of their imaginations, 
 and in some pressure of spirit said, "The love of 
 ease and gain are the motives in general of keeping 
 slaves, and men are wont to take hold of weak argu- 
 ments to support a cause which is unreasonable. I 
 have no interest on either side, save only the interest 
 which I desire to have in the truth. I believe liberty 
 is their right, and as I see they are not only deprived 
 of it, but treated in other respects with inhumanity in 
 many places, I believe He who is a refuge for the 
 oppressed will, in his own time, plead their cause, 
 and happy will it be for such as walk in uprightness 
 before him. ' ' And thus our conversation ended. . . . 
 The prospect of a road lying open to the same 
 
THOUGHTS ON SLAVERY. 307 
 
 degeneracy, in some parts o{ this newly settled land 
 of America, in respect to our conduct towards the 
 negroes, hath deeply bowed my mind in this journey, 
 and though briefly to relate how these people are 
 treated is no agreeable work, yet, after often reading 
 over the notes I made as I travelled, I find my mind 
 engaged to preserve them. Many of the white 
 people in those provinces take little or no care of 
 negro marriages ; and when negroes marry after their 
 own way, some make so little account of those mar- 
 riages that with views of outward interest they often 
 part men from their wives by selling them far asunder, 
 which is common when estates are sold by executors 
 at vendue. Many whose labor is heavy being fol- 
 lowed at their business in the field by a man with a 
 whip, hired for that purpose, have in common little 
 else allowed but one peck of Indian corn and some 
 salt, for one week, with a few potatoes ; the pota- 
 toes they commonly raise by their labor on the first 
 day of the week. 
 
 The correction ensuing on their disobedience to 
 overseers, or slothfulness in business, is often very 
 severe, and sometimes desperate. 
 
 Men and women have many times scarcely clothes 
 sufficient to hide their nakedness, and boys and girls 
 ten and twelve years old are often quite naked 
 amongst their master's children. Some of our 
 Society, and some of the society called Newlights, 
 use some endeavors to instruct those they have in 
 reading ; but in common this is not only neglected, 
 but disapproved. These are the people by whose 
 labor the other inhabitants are in a great measure sup- 
 ported, and many of them in the luxuries of life. 
 
308 JOHN WOOLMAN. 
 
 These are the people who have made no agreement 
 to serve us, and who have not forfeited their liberty 
 that we know of. These are the souls for whom 
 Christ died, and for our conduct towards them we 
 must answer before Him who is no respecter of per- 
 sons. They who know the only true God, and 
 Jesus Christ whom he hath sent, and are thus ac- 
 quainted with the merciful, benevolent, gospel spirit, 
 will therein perceive that the indignation of God is 
 kindled against oppression and cruelty, and in be- 
 holding the great distress of so numerous a people 
 will find cause for mourning. 
 
 OBJECTIONS TO DYED GARMENTS. 
 
 [From the Same, Chap. VIII.] 
 
 From my early acquaintance with truth I have 
 often felt an inward distress, occasioned by the striv- 
 ing of a spirit in me, against the operation of the 
 heavenly principle ; and in this circumstance have 
 been affected with a sense of my own wretchedness, 
 and in a mourning condition felt earnest longing for 
 that divine help which brings the soul into true lib- 
 erty ; and sometimes in this state, retiring into private 
 places, the spirit of supplication hath been given me, 
 and under a heavenly covering have asked my gracious 
 Father to give me a heart in all things resigned to the 
 direction of his wisdom, and in uttering language like 
 this the thoughts of my wearing hats and garments 
 dyed with a dye hurtful to them has made lasting 
 impressions on me. 
 
OBJECTIONS TO DYED GARMENTS. 309 
 
 In visiting people of note in the society who had 
 slaves, and laboring with them in brotherly love on 
 that account, I have seen, and the sight has affected 
 me, that a conformity to some customs, distinguish- 
 able from pure wisdom, has entangled many; and 
 the desire of gain to support these customs greatly 
 opposed the work of truth; and sometimes when the 
 prospect of the work before me has been such that in 
 bowedness of spirit I have been drawn into retired 
 places and besought the Lord, with tears, that he 
 would take me wholly under his direction and show 
 me the way in which I ought to walk ; it hath re- 
 vived with strength of conviction that if I would be 
 his faithful servant I must in all things attend to his 
 wisdom and be teachable ; and so cease from all cus- 
 toms contrary thereto, however used among religious 
 people. 
 
 As he is the perfection of power, of wisdom, and 
 of goodness, so I believe he hath provided that so 
 much labor shall be necessary for men's support in 
 this world as would, being rightly divided, be a suit- 
 able employment of their time, and that we cannot 
 go into superfluities or grasp after wealth in a way 
 contrary to his wisdom without having connection 
 with some degree of oppression and with that spirit 
 which leads to self-exaltation and strife, and which 
 frequently brings calamities on countries by parties 
 contending about their claims. 
 
 Being thus fully convinced, and feeling an increas- 
 ing desire to live in the spirit of peace ; being often 
 sorrowfully affected with the thinking on the unquiet 
 spirit in which wars are generally carried on, and 
 with the miseries of many of my fellow-creatures 
 
310 JOHN WOOLMAN. 
 
 engaged therein ; some suddenly destroyed ; some 
 wounded, and after much pain remain cripples; 
 some deprived of all their outward substance and 
 reduced to want; and some carried into captivity. 
 Thinking often on these things, the use of hats and 
 garments dyed with a dye hurtful to them, and wear- 
 ing more clothes in summer than are useful, grew 
 more uneasy to me, believing them to be customs 
 which have not their foundation in pure wisdom. 
 The apprehension of being singular from my beloved 
 Friends was a strait upon me, and thus I remained 
 in the use of some things contrary to my judgment. 
 
 On the thirty-first day of the fifth month, 1 761, I 
 was taken ill of a fever, and after having it near a 
 week, I was in great distress of body ; and one day 
 there was a cry raised in me that I might understand 
 the cause why I was afflicted, and improve under it ; 
 and my conformity to some customs which I believed 
 were not right were brought to my remembrance ; 
 and in the continuation of the exercise I felt all the 
 powers in me yield themselves up into the hands of 
 Him who gave me being, and was made thankful that 
 he had taken hold of me by his chastisement. See- 
 ing the necessity of further purifying, there was now 
 no desire in me for health until the design of my cor- 
 rection was answered, and thus I lay in abasement 
 and brokenness of spirit, and as I felt a sinking down 
 into a calm resignation, so I felt, as in an instant, an 
 inward healing in my nature, and from that time for- 
 ward I grew better. 
 
 Though I was thus settled in mind in relation to 
 hurtful dyes, I felt easy to wear my garments hereto- 
 fore made, and so continued about nine months. 
 
OBJECTIONS TO DYED GARMENTS. 311 
 
 Then I thought of getting a hat the natural color of 
 the fur, but the apprehension of being looked upon as 
 one affecting singularity felt uneasy to me; and here 
 I had occasion to consider, that things, though small 
 in themselves, being clearly enjoined by divine author- 
 ity, became great things to us ; and I trusted that the 
 Lord would support me in the trials that might attend 
 singularity, while that singularity was only for his 
 sake. On this account I was under close exercise 
 of mind in the time of our general spring-meeting, 
 1762, greatly desiring to be rightly directed; when, 
 being deeply bowed in spirit before the Lord, I was 
 made willing to submit to what I apprehended was 
 required of me, and when I returned home got a hat 
 of the natural color of the fur. 
 
 In attending meetings, this singularity was a trial 
 upon me, and more especially at this time, white 
 hats being used by some who were fond of following 
 the changeable modes of dress ; and as some Friends, 
 who knew not on what motive I wore it, carried shy 
 of me, I felt my way for a time shut up in the exer- 
 cise of the ministry ; and in this condition, my mind 
 being turned toward my heavenly Father, with fer- 
 vent cries that I might be preserved to walk before 
 him in the meekness of wisdom, my heart was often 
 tender in meetings, and I felt an inward consolation 
 which to me was very precious under those difficulties. 
 
 I had several dyed garments fit for use, which I 
 believed it best to wear till I had occasion of new 
 ones ; and some Friends were apprehensive that my 
 wearing such a hat savored of an affected singularity ; 
 and such who spake with me in a friendly way 1 
 generally informed in a few words that I believed my 
 
312 JOHN WOOLMAN. 
 
 wearing it was not in my own will. I had at times 
 been sensible that a superficial friendship had been dan- 
 gerous to me, and many Friends being now uneasy 
 with me, I had an inclination to acquaint some with 
 the manner of my being led into these things ; yet, 
 upon a deeper thought, I was for a time most easy 
 to omit it, believing the present dispensation was 
 profitable, and trusting that if I kept my place the 
 Lord, in his own time, would open the hearts of 
 Friends toward me ; since which I have had cause to 
 admire his goodness and loving-kindness in leading 
 about and instructing and opening and enlarging my 
 heart in some of our meetings. 
 
 A VISION. 
 
 [From the Same, Chap. XII.] 
 
 In a time of sickness with the pleurisy, a little up- 
 ward of two years and a half ago, I was brought so 
 near the gates of death that I forgot my name. Being 
 then desirous to know who I was, I saw a mass of 
 matter of a dull, gloomy color, between the south 
 and the east ; and was informed that this mass was 
 human beings in as great misery as they could be and 
 live ; and that I was mixed in with them, and that 
 henceforth I might not consider myself as a distinct 
 or separate being. In this state I remained several 
 hours. I then heard a soft, melodious voice, more 
 pure and harmonious than any I had heard with my 
 ears before ; I believed it was the voice of an angel , 
 who spake to the other angels. The words were : 
 " John Woolman is dead." I soon remembered that 
 
A VISION. 
 
 3*3 
 
 I once was John Woolman, and being assured that I 
 was alive in the body, I greatly wondered what that 
 heavenly voice could mean. 
 
 I believed beyond doubting that it was the voice 
 of an holy angel ; but as yet it was a mystery to me. 
 
 I was then carried in spirit to the mines, where 
 poor, oppressed people were digging rich treasures 
 for those called Christians, and heard them blaspheme 
 the name of Christ, at which I was grieved, for his 
 name to me was precious. 
 
 Then I was informed that these heathen were told 
 that those who oppressed them were the followers of 
 Christ ; and they said amongst themselves, if Christ 
 directed them to use us in this sort, then Christ is a 
 cruel tyrant. 
 
 All this time the song of the angel remained a mys- 
 tery ; and in the morning my dear wife and some 
 others coming to my bedside, I asked them if they 
 knew who I was ; and they telling me I was John 
 Woolman, thought I was light-headed, for I told them 
 not what the angel said, nor was I disposed to talk 
 much to any one, but was very desirous to get so deep 
 that I might understand this mystery. 
 
 My tongue was often so dry that I could not speak 
 till I had moved it about and gathered some moisture, 
 and as I lay still for a time, at length I felt divine 
 power prepare my mouth that I could speak, and 
 then I said : " I am crucified with Christ, nevertheless 
 I live ; yet not I, but Christ that liveth in me ; and 
 the life I now live in the flesh is by faith in the Son 
 of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me." 
 
 Then the mystery was opened, and I perceived 
 there was joy in heaven over a sinner who had re- 
 
314 JOHN WOOLMAN. 
 
 pented, and that that language — "John Woolman 
 is dead " — meant no more than the death of my own 
 will. 
 
 Soon after this I coughed and raised much bloody- 
 matter, which I had not done during this vision, and 
 now my natural understanding returned as before. 
 Here I saw that people getting silver vessels to set 
 off their tables at entertainments were often stained 
 with worldly glory, and that in the present state of 
 things I should take heed how I fed myself from out 
 of silver vessels. 
 
 Soon after my recovery, I, going to our monthly- 
 meeting, dined at a Friend's house where drink was 
 brought in silver vessels, and not in any other ; and 
 I, wanting some drink, told him my case with weeping, 
 and he ordered some drink for me in another vessel. 
 
 The like I afterward went through in several 
 Friend's houses in America, and have also in Eng- 
 land, since I came here ; and have cause, with hum- 
 ble reverence, to acknowledge the loving-kindness of 
 my heavenly Father who hath preserved me in such 
 a tender frame of mind that none, I believe, have ever 
 been offended at what I have said on that occasion. 
 
PHILIP VICKERS FITHIAN. 
 
 Philip Vickers Fithian, whose diary and letters 
 afford one of the most interesting pictures that we pos- 
 sess of the intimate life of New Jersey and Virginia in 
 the years just preceding the Revolution, was born in 
 1 747 of English stock, entered Princeton College 
 in 1770 in the class of Aaron Burr, James Madison, 
 and Henry Lee ; studied theology, taught for a year 
 (1773— 1774) in the family of Robert Carter at his 
 famous county-seat, Nomini Hall, in Westmoreland 
 County, Virginia, was ordained, served as a frontier 
 missionary in Virginia and Pennsylvania, enlisted as 
 chaplain in the New Jersey militia in July, 1776, and 
 died in October of that year, of camp fever at Fort 
 Washington New York. A selection from his carefully 
 guarded papers was edited in 1900 by John Rogers 
 Williams for the Princeton Historical Association — 
 and from this our extracts are taken by permission. 
 The idiosyncrasies of the writer are retained 
 throughout. 
 
 LIFE AT PRINCETON IN 1770. 
 
 [From His First Letter from College, 
 Nov. 30, 1770.] 
 
 Every Student must rise in the Morning, at far- 
 thest by half an hour after five ; the grammar Schollars 
 being most of them small, & lodging also in Town at 
 
 315 
 
316 PHILIP VICKERS FITHIAN. 
 
 some Distance from the College, are, in Winter, ex- 
 cused from attending morning Prayrs. 
 . The Bell rings at five, after which there is an 
 Intermission of half an hour, that everyone may 
 have time to dress, at the end of which it rings again, 
 & Prayrs begin ; And lest any should plead that he 
 did not hear the Bell, the Servant who rings, goes to 
 every Door & beats till he wakens the Boys, which 
 leaves them without Excuse. 
 
 There are Bill-keepers in each Class, appointed 
 generally by the President, or in his absence by one 
 of the Tutors, who take Notice, & set down those 
 who are absent from Morning or evening Prayrs, & 
 once every week present their Bill to the Doctor, or 
 one of the Tutors, who call each delinquent, & de- 
 mand their Excuse, which if it is thought sumceant 
 is accepted, if not they are fined, or privately ad- 
 monished, & if the same person is found frequently 
 guilty, without good reason, he receives public 
 Admonition in the Hall for Contempt of Authority. 
 
 After morning Prayrs, we can, now, in the Win- 
 ter, study an hour by candle Light every Morning. 
 
 We breakfast at eight ; from Eight to nine, is 
 time of our own, to play, or exercise. 
 
 At nine the Bell rings for Recitation, after which 
 
 we study till one, when the Bell rings for Dinner 
 
 We dine all in the same Room, at three Tables, & so 
 we breakfast and sup : 
 
 After dinner till three we have Liberty to go out 
 at Pleasure. 
 
 From three til* five we study, when the Bell 
 rings for evening Prayrs. 
 
 We sup at seven ; at nine the Bell rings for Study ; 
 
LIFE AT PRINCETON IN 1770. 317 
 
 And a Tutor goes through College, to see that every 
 Student is in his own Room ; if he finds that any are 
 absent, or more in any Room than belongs there, he 
 notes them down, & the day following calls them to 
 an Account. 
 
 After nine any may go to bed, but to go before is 
 reproachful. 
 
 No Student is allowed, on any pretence, Sickness 
 only excepted, to be absent on Sunday, from public 
 Worship : We have two Sermons every Sabbath : 
 One at eleven in the morning, in the Church ; & 
 the other at three in the Afternoon, in the College 
 Hall. I am indeed much pleased with Dr. Wither- 
 spoon & think his Sermons almost inimitable. 
 
 We rise on Sabbath mornings & have Prayrs as 
 usual, . . . 
 
 About seven the supper Bell rings, immediately 
 after which, each Class meets separately in Rooms be- 
 longing to one of themselves ; The Seniors alone meet 
 in a Room belonging to one of the Seniors ; & the 
 Juniors by themselves meet in a Room belonging to 
 one of themselves ; & in like manner do the in- 
 ferior Classes. And one in each Class, as his Name 
 comes in alphebetical Order, gives out a Psalm to 
 be sung, & prays ; after which they disperse, and 
 retire to their respective Rooms. 
 
 There are upwards of an hundred now in the 
 College including the grammar Scholars : The present 
 Senior Class consists of ten : The Junior of twenty- 
 eight : The Sopbimore of twenty-five : And the 
 Freshman of eighteen : In the School there are about 
 twenty-five. 
 
31 8 PHILIP VICKERS FITHIAN. 
 
 REMINISCENCES OF A COLLEGE GRADU- 
 ATE. 
 
 [From the Diary for Monday, Sept. 19, 1774.] 
 
 This Day begins the examination of the Junior 
 class at Nassau-Hall. Every time I reflect on that 
 Place of retirement & Study, where I spent two 
 years which I call the most pleasant as well as the 
 
 most important Period in my past life Always 
 
 when I think upon the Studies, the Discipline, 
 the Companions, the Neigbburhood, the exercises, 
 & Diversions, it gives me a secret & real Pleasure, 
 even the Foibles which often prevail there are pleas- 
 ant on recollection ; such as giving each other names 
 & characters; Meeting & Shoving in the dark 
 entries : knocking at Doors & going off without 
 entering ; Strowing the entries in the night with 
 greasy Feathers ; freezing the Bell ; Ringing it at late 
 
 Hours of the Night 1 may add that it does not 
 
 seem disagreeable to think over the Mischiefs often 
 
 practised by wanton Boys Such are writing witty 
 
 pointed anonymous Papers, in Songs, Confessions, 
 Wills, Soliliques, Proclamations, Advertisements &c. 
 
 Picking from the neighbourhood now & then a 
 
 plump fat Hen or Turkey for the private entertain- 
 ment of the Club " instituted for inventing & 
 practising several new kinds of mischief in a secret 
 polite Manner ' ' Parading bad Women Burn- 
 ing Curse-John Darting Sun-Beams upon the 
 
 Town-People Reconoitering Houses in the Town, 
 & ogling Women with the Telescope Making 
 
A VIRGINIA SUNDAY IN 1773. 319 
 
 Squibs, & other frightful compositions with Gun- 
 Powder, & lighting them in the Rooms of timorous 
 
 Boys, & new comers The various methods used 
 
 in naturalizing strangers, of incivility in the Dining- 
 Room to make them bold ; writing them sharp & 
 threatning Letters to make them smart ; leading them 
 at first with long Lessons to make them industrious 
 
 And trying them by Jeers & Repartee in order 
 
 to make them choose their Companions &c. &c. 
 
 A VIRGINIA SUNDAY IN 1773. 
 
 [From the Diary for Monday, Dec. 13, 1773.] 
 
 ... I observe it is a general custom on Sundays 
 here, with Gentlemen to invite one another home 
 to dine, after Church ; and to consult about, 
 & determine their common business, either before 
 
 or after Service It is not the custom for 
 
 Gentlemen to go into Church til Service is beginning, 
 when they enter in a Body, in the same manner as 
 they come out ; I have known the Clerk to come out 
 
 and call them in to prayers. They stay also after 
 
 the Service is over, usually as long, sometimes longer, 
 
 than the Parson was preaching Almost every 
 
 Lady wears a red Cloak ; and when they ride out 
 they tye a red handkerchief over their Head and face, 
 so that when I first came into Virginia, I was dis- 
 tressed whenever I saw a Lady, for I thought she had 
 
 the Tooth-Ach ! The People are extremely 
 
 hospitable, and very polite both of which are most 
 certainly universal Characteristics of the Gentlemen 
 
320 PHILIP VICKERS FITHIAN. 
 
 in Virginia some swear bitterly, but the practise 
 
 seems to be generally disapproved I have heard 
 
 that this Country is notorious for Gaming, however 
 this be, I have not seen a Pack of Cards, nor a Die, 
 since I left home, nor gaming or Betting of any kind 
 except at the Richmond-Race. Almost every Gen- 
 tleman of Condition, keeps a Chariot and Four ; 
 many drive with six Horses. 
 July I oth, 1774. 
 
 A Sunday in Virginia dont seem to wear the same 
 
 Dress as our Sundays to the Northward Generally 
 
 here by five o' Clock on Saturday every Face (espe- 
 cially the Negroes) looks festive & cheerful —All 
 
 the lower class of People, & the Servants, & the 
 Slaves, consider it as a Day of Pleasure & amusement, 
 & spend it in such Diversion, as they severally choose 
 
 The Gentlemen go to Church to be sure, but 
 
 they make that itself a matter of convenience, & 
 account the Church a useful weekly resort to do 
 
 Business 1 am told, for I have not yet been to 
 
 Church since my Return, that all the Sermons are in 
 the forensic Style, & on political Subjects. 
 
 WILLIAM AND MARY COLLEGE IN 1774. 
 
 [From the Diary, Feb. 12, 1774.] 
 
 After having dismissed the School I went over 
 
 to Ml Carters Study We conversed on many 
 
 things, & at length on the College of William & Mary 
 at Williamsburg. He informed me that it is in such 
 confusion at present, and so badly directed, that he 
 
A VIRGINIA PLANTER'S MANSION. 32 1 
 
 cannot send his Children with propriety there for 
 
 Improvement & useful Education That he has 
 
 known the Professors to play all Night at Cards in 
 publick Houses in the City, and has often seen them 
 
 drunken in the Street ! That the Charter of the 
 
 College is vastly Extensive, and the yearly income 
 sufficient to support a University being about 4.000 £ 
 
 Sterling. That the Necessary Expence of each 
 
 Scholar yearly is only 1 5 -£ Currency. Two of the 
 officers of the Institution, M r Bracken, & M r Henly 
 Clergymen are at present engaged in a paper War 
 published weekly in the Williamsburg Gazette's. 
 
 A VIRGINIA PLANTER'S MANSION. 
 
 [From the Diary, March 18, 1774.] 
 
 ... Mr Carter has chosen for the place of his 
 habitation a high spot of Ground in Westmoreland 
 County at the Head of the Navigation of the River 
 Nomini, where he has erected a large Elegant House, 1 
 at a vast expence, which commonly goes by the name 
 of 'Nomini- Hall. This House is built with Brick, 
 but the bricks have been covered with strong lime 
 Mortar ; so that the building is now perfectly white ; 
 It is seventy-six Feet long from East to West ; & 
 forty-four wide from North to South, two Stories 
 high ; the Pitch of the lower story seventeen Feet, 
 
 & the upper Story twelve It has five Stacks of 
 
 Chimneys, tho' two of these serve only for orna- 
 ments. 
 
 1 Built in 17325 burned, 1850. 
 
322 PHILIP VICKERS FITHIAN. 
 
 There is a beautiful Jutt, on the South side, eigh- 
 teen feet long, & eight Feet deep from the wall which 
 
 is supported by three tall pillars On the South 
 
 side, or front, in the upper story are four Windows 
 each having twenty-four Lights of Glass. In the 
 lower story are two Windows each having forty-two 
 Lights of Glass, & two Doors each having Sixteen 
 
 Lights At the East end the upper story has three 
 
 Windows each with eighteen Lights ; & below two 
 Windows both with eighteen Lights & a Door with 
 nine 
 
 The North side I think is the most beautiful of all ; 
 In the upper Story is a Row of seven Windows with 
 eighteen Lights a piece ; and below six windows, 
 with the like number of lights ; besides a large Portico 
 in the middle, at the sides of which are two Windows 
 
 each with eighteen Lights. At the West end are 
 
 no Windows The Number of Lights in all is 
 
 five hundred, & forty nine There are four Rooms 
 
 on a Floor, disposed of in the following manner. 
 Below is a dining Room where we usually sit ; the 
 second is a dining- Room for the Children ; the third 
 is Mf Carters study; & the fourth is a Ball-Room 
 
 thirty Feet long Above stairs, one Room is for 
 
 M T . & M r . 8 Carter ; the second for the young Ladies ; 
 & the other two for occasional Company. As this 
 House is large, & stands on a high piece of Land it 
 may be seen a considerable distance ; I have seen it 
 at the Distance of six Miles 
 
 At equal Distances from each corner of this Build- 
 ing stand four other considerable Houses, . . . 
 
VIRGINIA AND NEW JERSEY. 323 
 
 VIRGINIA AND NEW JERSEY CON- 
 TRASTED. 
 
 [From a Letter to John Peck, Fithian's In- 
 tended Successor, dated Nomini Hall, August 
 12, 1774.] 
 
 . . . When you have thought of removing, for 
 a Time, out of the Colony in which you was born, 
 & in which you have hitherto constantly resided, I 
 make no doubt but you have at the same time expected 
 to find a very considerable alteration of manners, 
 among your new acquaintances, & some peculiarities 
 toto Coelo different, from any you have before been 
 accustomed to. Such a thought is natural ; And you 
 will if you come into Virginia, in much shorter time 
 than a year, be convinced that it is just. In New- 
 Jersey Government throughout, but especially in the 
 Counties where you have any personal acquaintance, 
 Gentlemen in the first rank of Dignity & Quality, of 
 the Council, general Assembly, inferior Magistrates, 
 Clergy-men, or independent Gentlemen, without the 
 smallest fear of bringing any manner of reproach 
 either on their office, or their high-born, long recorded 
 Families associate freely & commonly with Farmers & 
 Mechanicks tho' they be poor & industrious. Inge- 
 nuity & industry are the Strongest, & most approved 
 recommendations to a Man in that Colony. The 
 manners of the People seem to me, (probably I am 
 overborn by the force of prejudice in favour of my 
 native Soil), to bear some considerable resemblance 
 of the manners in the ancient Spartan Common- 
 
324 PHILIP VICKERS FITHIAN. 
 
 Wealth The Valour of its Inhabitants — was 
 
 the best, & only security of that State against the 
 enemy ; & the wise laws of its renowned Legislator 
 were the powerful cement which kept them firm & 
 
 invincible In our Government, the laborious part 
 
 of Men, who are commonly ranked in the midling or 
 lower Class, are accounted the strength & Honour of 
 the Colony ; & the encouragement they receive from 
 Gentlemen in the highest stations is the spring of In- 
 dustry, next to their private advantage. The Levil 
 which is admired in New-Jersey Government, among 
 People of every rank, arises, no doubt, from the very 
 great division of the lands in that Province, & conse- 
 quently from the near approach to an equality of 
 Wealth among the Inhabitants, since it is not famous 
 for trade. You know very well that the Lands in a 
 small township are divided, & then again subdivided 
 into two & three Hundred Separate, proper, credita- 
 ble estates ; for example Deerjield & Fairfield two 
 Townships, or Precincts, in which you & I are tolera- 
 bly well acquainted, in the former of which, are the 
 Seats of two Judges of the Sessions ; & in the latter 
 resides one of the representatives in General Assembly 
 for the County ; But if 1 6000^" would purchase the 
 whole landed estates of these three Gentlemen, who 
 are supposed to be the most wealthy in the County, 
 if we rate their Land at the Low Consideration of 
 4x£ P 1 - acre » w ' tn a ^ conveniences, each would have 
 4000 Acres. Now you may suppose how small a 
 quantity many must have when two or three hundred 
 Landholders reside in each of these small Precincts ; 
 Hence we see Gentlemen, when they are not actually 
 engaged in the publick Service, on their farms, setting 
 
VIRGINIA AND NEW JERSEY. 325 
 
 a laborious example to their Domesticks, & on the 
 other hand we see labourers at the Tables & in the 
 Parlours of 'their Betters enjoying the advantage, & 
 
 honour of their society and conversation 1 do 
 
 not call it an objection to this, that some few, who 
 have no substance but work like Slaves as necessity 
 drives them for a few Months in the year ; with the 
 price of this Labour they visit Philadelphia ; & hav- 
 ing there acquired a fashionable Coat, & a Stock of 
 Impudence, return home to spend the remainder of 
 
 the year, in idleness & disgrace ! But you will 
 
 find the tables turned the moment you enter this 
 Colony. The very Slaves in some families here, 
 could not be bought under 30000^". Such amazing 
 property, no matter how deep it is involved, blows 
 up the owners to an imagination, which is visible in 
 all, but in various degrees according to their respective 
 virtue, that they are exalted as much above other 
 Men in worth & precedency, as blind stupid fortune 
 has made a difference in their property ; excepting 
 always the value they put upon posts of honour, & 
 
 mental acquirements For example, if you should 
 
 travel through this Colony, with a well-confirmed 
 testimonial of your having finished with Credit a 
 Course of studies at Nassau-Hall ; you would be 
 rated, without any more questions asked, either about 
 your family, your Estate, your business, or your in- 
 tention, at 10,000^ ; and you might come, & go, 
 & converse, & keep company, according to this value ; 
 and you would be despised and slighted if you rated 
 yourself a farthing cheaper. But when I am giving 
 directions to you from an expectation that you will 
 be shortly a resident here, altho you have gone 
 
326 PHILIP VICKERS FITHIAN. 
 
 through a College Course, & for anything I know, 
 have never written a Libel, nor stolen a Turkey, yet 
 I think myself in duty bound to advise you, lest some 
 powdered Coxcomb should reproach your education, 
 to cheapen your price about 5000^ ; because any 
 young Gentleman travelling through the Colony, as I 
 said before, is presumed to be acquainted with Danc- 
 ing, Boxing, playing the Fiddle, & Small-Sword, & 
 Cards. Several of which you was only entering 
 upon, when I left New-Jersey ; towards the Close 
 of last year ; and if you stay here any time your 
 Barrenness in these must be detected. I will, however, 
 allow, that in the Family where you act as tutor you 
 place yourself, according to your most acute Calcula- 
 tion, at a perfect equidistance between the father & 
 the eldest Son. Or let the same distance be observed 
 in every article of behaviour between you & the eldest 
 Son, as there ought to be, by the latest & most ap- 
 proved precepts of Moral-Philosophy, between the 
 eldest Son & his next youngest Brother. But when- 
 ever you go from Home, where you are to act on 
 your own footing, either to a Ball ; or to a Horse- 
 Race , or to a Cock-Figbty or to a Fisb-Feast f I 
 advise that you rate yourself very low & if you bett 
 at all, remember that 10,000^ in Reputation & 
 learning does not amount to a handfull of Shillings in 
 
 ready Cash ! One considerable advantage which 
 
 you promise yourself by coming to this Colony is to 
 extend the limits of your acquaintance ; this is laud- 
 able, & if you have enough of prudence & firmness, 
 
 it will be a singular advantage Yet attempt slowly 
 
 & with the most Jealous Circumspection If you 
 
 fix your familiarity wrong in a single instance, you 
 
VIRGINIA AND NEW JERSEY. 327 
 
 are in danger of total, if not immediate ruin 
 
 You come here, it is true, with an intention to teach, 
 but you ought likewise to have an inclination to learn. 
 At any rate I solemnly injoin it upon you, that you 
 netfer suffer the Spirit of a Pedagogue to attend you 
 without the walls o{ your little Seminary. In all 
 promiscuous Company be as silent & attentive as 
 Decency will allow you, for you have nothing to 
 communicate, which such company, will hear with 
 pleasure, but you may learn many things which, in 
 
 after life, will do you singular service. In regard 
 
 to Company in general, if you think it worth your 
 while to attend to my example, I can easily instruct 
 you in the manner of my Conduct in this respect. 
 I commonly attend Church ; and often, at the request 
 of Gentlemen, after Service according to the custom, 
 dine abroad on Sunday 1 seldom fail, when in- 
 vited by M T . & M r . s Carter, of going out with them ; 
 but I make it a point, however strongly solicited to 
 
 the contrary, to return with them too Except in 
 
 one of these cases, I seldom go out, but with a valu- 
 able variety of books live according to Horace's direc- 
 tion. & love " Secretum Iter et fallentis Semita 
 Vitas." Close retirement and a life by Stealth. 
 The last direction I shall venture to mention on this 
 head, is, that you abstain totally from Women. What 
 I would have you understand from this, is, that by a 
 train of faultless conduct in the whole course of your 
 tutorship, you make every Lady within the Sphere of" 
 your acquaintance, who is between twelve & forty 
 years of age, so much pleased with your person, & 
 so satisfied as to your ability in the capacity of a 
 Teacher ; & in short, fully convinced, that, from a 
 
328 PHILIP VICKERS FITHIAN. 
 
 principle of Duty, you have, both by night and by 
 day endeavoured to acquit yourself honourably, in 
 the Character of a Tutor ; & that, on this account, 
 you have their free and hearty consent, without mak- 
 ing any manner of demand upon you, either to stay 
 longer in the County with them, which they would 
 choose, or whenever your business calls you away, 
 that they may not have it in their Power either by 
 charms or Justice to detain you, & when you must 
 leave them, have their sincere wishes & constant 
 prayrs for Length of days & much prosperity, I there- 
 fore beg that you will attend literally to this advice, & 
 abstain totally from Women. But this last precaution, 
 which I have been at some pains to dress in the plain- 
 est language, I am much inclined to think, will be 
 wholly useless in regard to you, notwithstanding it is 
 founded in Honor and Equity which is on all hands 
 allow' d to be due from one Sex to the other, & to 
 many of your age, & Standing would be entirely 
 salutary. Because the necessary connections which 
 you have had with the Fair, from your Puberty 
 upwards have been so unfavourable & ill-fated, that 
 instead of apprehending any danger on the score of 
 your fondness, I am fearful your rancour has grown so 
 inveterate at length, as, not only to preserve you, in 
 thought & practice, pure of every Fleshly foible, but 
 has carried you so far towards the other extreme, that 
 you will need many persuasions, when your circum- 
 stances shall seem to require it, to bring you back to 
 a rational & manly habit of thinking & acting with 
 respect to the Sex ; which yet, after all (& eternally 
 will continue to be, tho' it is so much courted & 
 whined after) if considered in the fullest manner, & 
 
VIRGINIA AND NEW JERSEY. 329 
 
 set forth to the best advantage, never rising above its 
 divine definition Viz '* The weaker Vessel." But 
 without detaining you any longer with a matter merely 
 depending on accident or Circumstance I pass on to 
 the second General Head ; in which tf Ludis atque 
 Jocis amotis" I shall offer to your consideration and 
 recommend for your practice several Rules concerning 
 the management of the School. ... 
 
 When you enter among a people, & find that their 
 manner of living, their Eating, Drinking, Diversions, 
 Exercise, &c, are in many respects different from any- 
 thing you have been accustomed to, you will be apt 
 to fix your opinion in an instant, & (as some divines 
 deal with poor Sinners) you will condemn all before 
 you without any meaning or distinction what seems 
 in your judgment disagreeable at first view, when you 
 are smitten with the novelty. You will be making 
 ten thousand Comparisons. The face of the Country, 
 The Soil, the Buildings, the Slaves, the Tobacco, the 
 method of spending Sunday among Christians ; Ditto 
 among the Negroes ; the three grand divisions of time 
 at the Church on Sundays, Viz. before Service, giv- 
 ing & receiving letters of business, reading Advertise- 
 ments, consulting about the price of Tobacco, Grain, 
 &c. & settling either the lineage, Age, or qualities of 
 favourite Horses. 2. In the Church at Service, 
 prayrs read over in haste, a Sermon seldom under 
 & never over twenty minutes, but always made up 
 of sound morality, or deep studied Metaphysicks. 
 3. After Service is over three quarters of an hour 
 spent in strolling round the Church among the Crowd, 
 in which time you will be invited by several different 
 Gentlemen home with them to dinner. The Balls, 
 
330 PHILIP VICKERS FITHIAN. 
 
 the Fish-Feasts, the Dancing-Schools, the Christnings, 
 the Cock fights, the Horse- Races, the Chariots, the 
 Ladies Masked, for it is a custom among the West- 
 morland Ladies whenever they go from home, to 
 muffle up their heads, & Necks, leaving only a narrow 
 passage for the Eyes, in Cotton or silk handkerchiefs ; 
 I was in distress for them when I first came into the 
 Colony, for every Woman that I saw abroad, I looked 
 upon as ill either with the Mumps or Tooth-Ach ! 
 
 1 say, you will be often observing & comparing 
 
 these things which I have enumerated, & many more 
 that now escape me, with the manner of spending 
 Money time & credit at Cohansie : You are young, 
 &, (you will allow me the Expression) in the morn- 
 ing of Life. But I hope you have plann'd off, and 
 entered upon the work which is necessary to be per- 
 formed in the course of your Day ; if not, I think it 
 my duty to acquaint you, that a combination of the 
 amusements which I have just now mentioned, being 
 always before your Eyes, & inviting your Compliance 
 will have a strong tendency to keep you doubtful & 
 unsettled, in your notions of Morality & Religion, or 
 else will fix you in a false & dangerous habit of think- 
 ing & acting, which must terminate at length in Sor- 
 row & despair. You are therefore, if you count 
 anything upon the value of my advice, to fix the 
 plan in which you would spend your life : let this be 
 done with deliberation, Candour, & precision, look- 
 ing to him for direction, by fervent Prayr, who is the 
 '* Wonderful Counsellor" ; & when you have done 
 this, let no importunity of whatever kind prevail over 
 you, & cause you to transgress your own Limitations. 
 I have already exceeded the usual bounds of an Epistle. 
 
VIRGINIA AND NEW JERSEY. 331 
 
 But you will easily pardon a little prolixity, when I 
 assure you it flows from a heart deeply impressed with 
 a sense of the many difficulties which you must en- 
 counter, & the dangers which will surround you when 
 you come first out from the peaceful recess of Con- 
 templation, & enter, young and unexperienced, into 
 the tumultuous undiscerning World. I submit these 
 hints to your consideration, & have nothing more than 
 sincere & ardent wishes for your present & perpetual 
 Felicity. 
 
 I am, Sir, 
 To Ml" John Peck, yours, 
 
 on going to Virginia in Phiilip V. Fithian. 
 
 Character of a Tutor. 
 

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