(/^u ^ 
 /i-/^ 
 
 r 
 r 
 
 
 ^/^^n
 
 w
 
 A SKETCH 
 
 HIS DESCENDANTS TO 1884, 
 
 ALSO, SELECTIONS OK THE PIIOSE PUHLK'ATlONS OF 
 
 JOHN ALLYN, 
 
 AN i> HIS I'oE'ric w i; rri nos. 
 
 
 San Fkanciisio : 
 A. L. BANCROFT & CO., I'kimkus. 
 
 1884.
 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 ^1 
 
 This work is not iuteiideil to interest the general public 
 
 CG* or to be put on sale. Its object is to rescue from oblivion 
 
 ,^ and hand down to posterity such fragments as may be 
 
 o* had of the lives of Matthew Allyn. the first settler knowji 
 
 >r in America, and his descendants. 
 
 ecz 
 
 5 I am indebted for a great portion of the information 
 
 GO 
 
 _-i embodied in this work to sketches by Mary L. Hart, pub- 
 ^"; lished in the Winsted Herald. Besides putting these frag- 
 9', meuts iu convenient form, I wish to perpetuate such selec- 
 tions of my published prose writings as may be thought 
 worth preservation, and also my |)oetic writings entire — 
 good, bad, and indifferent — with a few favorite selections. 
 Witliout apologizing, I will state that, after a busy life, I 
 commenced writing this poetry at the age of fifty-seven, 
 leaving the reader to estimate their i[uality. it lias all 
 been published in local |)eriodicals, and some cjuoted, fr()ni 
 one side of the continent to the other. 
 
 27366r>
 
 INDEX 
 
 Matthew Allyn antl his Descendants, - - - - 9 
 Will and Morals, ------- 38 
 
 Scientific Indications of Progression, - - - - 94 
 
 The Coming Religion, ------ 118 
 
 Experience with Spirits, ------ 137 
 
 Poems, . - - ^ - - - - 142 
 
 Essa}' on Wonmii Suffrage, ------ 169 
 
 Miscellaneous, 176
 
 A SKKTCH 
 
 MATTHEW ALLYN 
 
 HIS DESCENDANTS TO 1884. 
 
 MATTHEW ALLYN. 
 
 Of Matthew Allyn, the first settler of the name in 
 Arueiicii, little is known but that l-e settled in "Wimlsor, 
 iij Connecticut. Nothing whatever is known of the family 
 previous to emigration from England. The name seems 
 to indicate Welsh origin. I have nothing to relate until 
 we come to Pelatiah Allyn, Jr., the first settler of Bark- 
 Lamsted, Litchfield Co., Conn. His storj'^ I give as told 
 by Mary L. Hart^of JBarkhamsted. 
 
 PELATIAH ALLYN, Jr. 
 
 Time ever speeds onward, and in its ceaseless course the 
 march of civilization presses ft)rward to uncultivated regions 
 where the red man and the wild beast have long held un- 
 disputed sway. And thus it was when liarkliamsted was 
 an unbroken wilderness, when the mountain-tops and the 
 valleys were alike a dense and unsubdued forest; win n the 
 deer roamed at will; when the panther, the bear ami the 
 Avolf made the night hideous with their wild and savage out- 
 ciies. 
 
 Such a region would seem to hold little in its endirace to 
 allure or invite settlers to make a home, for well must they
 
 10 TUli ALLYN FAMILY. 
 
 1)0 aware of llio liarclsLips and privations to •wliicli tliey 
 miiHt be stibjccted. 
 
 At the first settlement of Connecticut it was natural that the 
 most accessihle portions should have been chosen, and that 
 the lovely and fertile Connecticut Valley shtuild first be se- 
 lected and cultivated. As the incoming' tides broii^jht an 
 increase of ])oi)ulation the domains expanded, and enii;,'ra- 
 tion pushed westward, until the rocky and mountainous re- 
 f^ions of ]5arlchamsted were reached, and thougli it was less 
 invitinpf than many other localities, yet one man had the en- 
 erf,'y, the perseverance and stamina requisite to fell the lofty 
 trees and commence a settlement within the wilderness, and 
 lay the corner-stone for the future growth and prosperity 
 of the town, which has for more than a century been famous 
 upon the pages of history. To this man, and the work of 
 his hands, and the record which he has left behind after 
 the coming and going of these many years, would I invite 
 the attention of my readers, with regret and sorrow that I 
 cannot lift the veil which shadows his life and give an accurate 
 and full description of the pioneer settler of our town. The 
 grave has long held his sacred ashes, and his memory lives 
 in the hearts of his great-grandchildren, and like that 
 grave in the laud of Moab, on Nebo's lonely mountain, 
 " no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day." 
 
 The first white settler in the town of Barkhamsted was 
 Pelatiah Allyn, Jr., who came from Windham, Coun., and 
 was the son of Pelatiah Allvn, who was descended from 
 Matthew Allyn, the first of the family that came from Eng- 
 land to this country. « 
 
 Pelatiah Allyn of "Windsor, deeded land lying in the town 
 of Barkhamsted " in an unbroken state " to his son Pelatiah, 
 Jr., who came to this town in 1740, and built a log house 
 about one mile north of New Hartford, on the ridge which 
 divides the east branch of the Farmington river from the 
 west branch. 
 
 He was at this time unmarried, and many vague stories 
 have been handed down of hardships and discouragements, 
 of encounters with the wild beasts of the forest, as well as 
 ■with the red man. Tradition has it that before he built his 
 log-house he had a large box secured with irou bands in 
 wliich he used to sleep nights, and one day" after becoming 
 much fatigued, he lay dow'U in his box to rest, and in some 
 unaccountable manner the lid of the box fell down, which
 
 THE ALIA'N FAMILY. 
 
 11 
 
 fastened with a sprinrr^ and for the same len^^th of time that 
 Jonah was confined iu his close quarters did Mr. Allyn re- 
 main a jnisoner, and when nearly dead'was released by a 
 party of hunters, who in their meanderings iu quest of game 
 discovered a coat hanging on a tree close by, and were led 
 to gratify their curiosity regarding the box and its contents 
 by an investigation, which resulted most happily for 
 Mr. Allyn, and for the future jgood and prosperity of this 
 town. 
 
 From a letter written by Rev. Ozias Eells, the first set- 
 tled minister of this town, to Dr. Trumbull, the historian, 
 we find that at the time of his coming there was considera- 
 ble disturbance from the Indians in New Hartford and the 
 region round about, and the alarm became so great that at 
 the north end of New Hartford they had a house " forted 
 in," to which all the families went to lodge, and were obliged 
 to work their fields in companies, with their fire-arms. Mr. 
 Allyn became alarmed, and felt so insecure that he went 
 and lodged with them — and that my readers may under- 
 stand his situation I will copy a small portion of Parson 
 Eells' letter, which is published in full in the Barkhamsted 
 Centennial Book, compiled by "William Wallace Lee, of 
 Meriden: 
 
 " Mr. Allyn, finding be must be alone in the day-time or 
 leave his place, concluded to secure himself as Avell as he 
 could. He had built him a house with one large room and 
 a small room for his bed. Just before the door that led 
 into his bedroom, about one small step, he had a trai)-door 
 which led into his cellar. At night he used to lay things 
 around his outside door that a noise might be made if any 
 one came to get into the house, and then shut his bedroom 
 door and raised his trajj-door, which opened from the bed- 
 room door, tliat if they entered there they must fall into the 
 cellar, and in this way he lived for some years \inmarried, 
 and never met with any disturbance from the Indians." 
 
 His wife's name was Sarah Moody, she being a resident 
 of New Hartford, and daughter of Adonijah ]Moody. They 
 were married about 1751 or '52. Pelatiah Allyn, Jr., was 
 born in Windsor in 1713. 
 
 Pelatiah Jr. and Sarah his wife had but one son, who was 
 born in 1755, and to whom they gave the family name of 
 Pelatiah, which is a Bible name found in E/ekiel xi. 1, 18. 
 A daughter was born to them, but I do not find the date of
 
 12 THE AI.IAN FAMILY. 
 
 her birtli, nllhough she lived to many, of which we will 
 «]M'!ik luMcafter. 
 
 rdiitiiih 2(1 owned n liir^'e tract of land iu this town, in- 
 cludinj,' several Imndred acres. After he was on the down- 
 hill of life ho became emhairassed in debt and shut himself 
 in his house. One morninj^ he found a pane of ^\hhh re- 
 moved and a ^'un lay under the window, which he inferred 
 was placed by some friend to let him know his danger. He 
 owned a slave, a black woman by tlie name of Lily, and as 
 bhe was ])roperty and could be taken for debt they hid her 
 Uji stairs in a deep hole down by the chimney. She fell to 
 I'elatiah 3d, and afterwards married and had one or two 
 children. 
 
 A tine buflf vest, sent with other goods from England ia 
 payment of Felatiah 2irs share of a fortune in Indiau bonds, 
 is in the possession of one of his great-grandsons. Some 
 liistoriaus claim that Pelatiah Allyn 2d settled first iu New 
 Hartford, and that the records of that town show when land 
 was deeded by himself and S.irah Moody, his wife, to the 
 town, but this was doubtless land first owned by the father 
 of Sarah Moody, but the land of Pelatiah 2d is said to have 
 lain partly in New Hartford, 
 
 ]My information of the first settler is derived chiefly from 
 family tradition, anil may be in n)any respects incorrect. 
 He died at the age of 70 iu the year 1783. In our next 
 cha|)ter we will take the life of P»-latiah 3d, who was the 
 only son of the pioneer settler of Barkiiamsted. 
 
 The writer of this [)ar!igra|)h, J. Allyn, was born on said 
 farm, a small part of which is over the line in New Hartford. 
 In his youth he made hay many a day in a field which was 
 part iu New Hartford aucl part iu Barkhamsted. 
 
 PELATIAH ALLYN, 3d. 
 
 Pelatiah, son of Pelatiah 2d and Sarah Moody, his wife, 
 was born in 1755, and married Mary Ann Gillett, an aunt 
 of Matthew Gillett and also of Ann Gillett, who became 
 the wife of Joseph Wilder. Mary Ann Gillett was born 
 in 1758. The}' had three sous, Pelatiah, Henry, and 
 Matthew. 
 
 AVhen Pelatiah 3d was a young man he was consumptive 
 and atHioted for years with a bronchial cough. He had iu 
 later years fever sores on both of his limbs, and there is
 
 THE ALLYN FA^riLY. 13 
 
 livinjif at present an ap^ed lady wlio, when a child, lived in 
 his family and can remember, as though it were but yester- 
 day, seeing him dress his limbs, daily bathing them in min- 
 eral water, rolling and unrolling the bandages. 
 
 He is described as a kind and most agreeable man, en- 
 joying hugely a joke or laughable incident. He was of 
 s]>are liabits, of few words, and quite a mathematician. 
 His ambition often went far beyond his strength. His 
 death was occasioned by persisting in plowing his cornfield 
 during a very warm day of May, 1815, while his hired help 
 were hoeing the same. A man by the name of Pike, think- 
 ing he overestimated his strength, urged him to let him take 
 the plow, but he refused. His death occurred May 21, 
 1815, at GO years of age. 
 
 A favorite maxim of his was, to " live as though wo were 
 to live forever, or die to-morrow." A slab in the old cem- 
 etery marks the last resting-place of Pelatiah 3d, and the 
 visitoi's to that silent but sacred city " over the river and 
 on the hill" will read from the moss-grown slab the words 
 which have been carved for many a year, " Blessed are the 
 dead who die in the Lord, for their works do follow them." 
 
 He represented the town in the State legislature twenty- 
 two times, going the last time in 1814. One anecdote of 
 his is given as authentic. The Indians as a class aie fond 
 of having a "paper," as thej' called it, which should serve 
 to introduce them and gain favors and odd jobs of work 
 from the people. At the most earnest solicitation of an 
 Indian, Captain Allyn prepared a paper which road thus: 
 " The bearer of this is a tolerable good Indian. He does 
 his work well; but if you have any hatchets or tools of any 
 kind lying around loose look out for him, as he will steal 
 anything he can lay his hands on." This Indian could not 
 read, and he took great ])ride "in presenting the paper of 
 recommendation to the white ])eo])le and soliciting favors. 
 
 Before tlie incorporation of the town, which took place 
 in October, 1779, a military comjiany was organized liere, 
 in October, 1774. Pelatiah 3d was chosen captain. From 
 traditional repute we learn that this company were inexpe- 
 rienced in military tactics, and they did not obey the cap- 
 tain's order to " Right about face! " in an approved manner, 
 and with patience nearly exhausted he succeeded in getting 
 them in line again, when, with a loud voice, he gave tlje 
 comnjand, "Wheel! Wheel to my son Pelatiah on the
 
 14 THE ALl-VX FAMir.y. 
 
 fence!" wliicli command was quick!}' aud most gracefully 
 obfved. 
 
 On one occasion a neighbor made some wooden combs 
 which did not require any great amount of mecjjanical in- 
 genuily, but which he displayed with a vast amount of 
 j)ri<le to his neighbor, Cni)tain Allyn. Taking the coarse, 
 awkward, red-painted combs in his hand, the ca])tain. after 
 a careful inspection, told him " they would make quite re- 
 8j)ectable oveu wood." 
 
 As the aged lady, with the weight of more than four- 
 score years resting upon her, with finirers tremulous with 
 age unlocks the door of the hidden Past and lives in mem- 
 ory amid the scenes of childhood and all its tender and sa- 
 cred associations; and when but a child of eight years she 
 enters the dwelling of Pelatiah and Mary Allyn, and 
 spreads before us a panorama of the familiar scenes, intro- 
 duces us to those who were indeed her parents, tenderly 
 caresses the faces which were so dear to her through years 
 of her girlhood, we can but marvel that the mind should 
 after the lapse of so manj' years recall so much of wLat has 
 been, and with eyes dimmed by the coming and going of so 
 many eventides see again the prancing iron-gray colt led to 
 the horse-block, Captain Allyn mounted, guiding and con- 
 trolling the fiery animal by the sound of his own voice, 
 while the reins lie upon his neck. Again she sees the fam- 
 ily at church, sitting in a square, high-backed pew in the 
 old meeting-house, a part of the pew being occupied by 
 Colonel Israel Jones and wife, who, as long as she can re- 
 member, sat with them until their number was lessened by 
 the beckoning of the Death Angel. 
 
 From his elevated position in the great high pulpit she 
 sees Parson Eells, from Sunday to Sunday, as a Icved and 
 reverend shepherd, feeding the lambs of his flock. Within 
 the sacred precincts of home she sees Mrs. Allyn, attired in 
 short gown and petticoat, industriously working at her 
 loom carding and weaving, while she herself fills the quills. 
 
 About a mile from Mr. Allyn's lived a man by the name 
 
 of Michael , who came from Scotland and was by 
 
 tiade a weaver and proficient in the art. He was fond of 
 cider, and would often go to Mr. Allyn's and tell the little 
 maid that if she would draw some eider he would fill the 
 quills for her. The work of filling the quills was quite dis- 
 tasteful to the young girl and she would gladlv make the
 
 TIIK AI.I.VN KAMIl.V. 15 
 
 excliMiif^c; and wliih' Iu( \viis cn^Mif^'cd in pcrtOi imn^' liJH 
 purl, of \\\v si ipiiliilion ho would sin;^' soin«' plriisin;^' son^jf, 
 and ()fl(Mi would hv^ for " a'criisl, of bicad for his Hlomacli's 
 RukM." His wif«> was pccMiIiar and slran;^*! in appcaranfo, 
 walking' nuicli lilv(> a pttrson inloxicalcd, and associated but 
 lillh>willi the people alioul, them. Sh(> own<>d land, an<l 
 one liiu(^ a num (Mil. some trees on Iwr properly and sho 
 Went, to ('aplain Allyn in lier Irouhle. 
 
 Mrs. lioekwell, on ("enter Hill, used lo comb wool to 
 Hpin for woisled, which was mad«^ into eh»th, Hloekinj^'s and 
 gh)vc's, Hn<l Mrs. Allyn used lo send h(>r wool to Mrs. Ilock- 
 w«dl to have it condted. Iteb(>c(>a l'ik(% a maiihtn huly, 
 nK<'d lo spin for Mrs. Allyn, iind slu* would say sho had 
 rather b(« with h(>r than anywhere else. She was about 
 RlrM. Allyn's a,';t>, and was a very ami.able and soirial p<'rHon. 
 Sho had the misfortune In fall into a kellhi of boilin;j^ por- 
 ridge wIk'u she was small and was fearfidly burned, ami 
 ullhouoh she lived she was never stronjj and healthy, .and 
 was diminutiv(> in stature. 
 
 When Captain Allyn lived in the old house, in the din- 
 in;.;-r<»om tli(>re was a lon;^' bi^nch on one* side of the lablo 
 foi- 111*' men to sit upon, it. beinj.,' loM;^<'r than tin* table, 
 ("aplain Allyn sat at l.ii(< end of llie tab|t> and his «lo}j; lluii- 
 t(M- W(Mdd sit by his sid(> on the <>nd of Ihe b(>neh and tho 
 'Stpiir(^ woidd f«'ed him; and when Hunter did not reeeivo 
 th«) attention to which he thou<^dit he was (>ntitled he woidd 
 jdaee his paw on the 'Scpiire's aiiu. when his wants would 
 be supplied. 
 
 In the latter part of (!aptaiu Allyn's life lu* became tpiito 
 (b>af, and Dr. AmoH Jteeeher used t«> ^fo often to se<) him. 
 ()n«* day while llu're he exiiaeted with his turidc(>ys the lirst 
 tooth this little ;^irl was called upon to part with; and now 
 the remembrance of Ih.at incident is fresh in Ihe eveninj^ »>f 
 her life. 
 
 Th<* dau;^liler of the pioneer and S.arah Moody, his wife, 
 married a num by the mmut of Shepard, and she di<<d leav- 
 iu'^ n babe. wlii<-h she M-ave to her brother, ('aplain Allyn. 
 Hhe left a will. Ihou^^h how much land she own<'<l is not 
 known. She left also a silk dress for Ii(>r daughter Polly, 
 which she did not wear until her nnirria^^'e, in IStKl, with 
 Sylvester Jones, who hml lived with Sipiire .\llyn for some 
 time previous.
 
 K; THK AI.r.YN FAMII-V. 
 
 PELATIAH ALLYN, 4th. 
 
 Pf'lntiali Allyii 4lli, olilfst son of C!ii)t!iiii Pelatiali Allyn, 
 WHS horn Docciiiber 4, 1785. He inairied Amelia Taylor, a 
 (1an;,'lit(M- of Ozias Taylor, of Canton, January 14, 1808. 
 Amelia Taylor was born April 19, 178;"). Tliey lived in 
 liarkliiimstod, on tlie west side of tbe Farmii)<,'tf)n river, 
 below ('annon's Forfje. Here tbey were riclily blessed by 
 the birth of seven children, four sons and three i1an<,diters, 
 viz.: Mary Ann, Pelatiali, jr., Amelia, Ozias, William H. 
 "Walter and Chestina. Marv Ann was born May 10, 1809; 
 Pelatiah. jr., September 8," 1810; Amelia, July 14, 1812; 
 Ozias, September 30, ISU; William H., April 4, 1817; 
 Walter, February 23, 1810; Chestina, May 29, 1821. 
 
 Pelatiah 4th had long cherished a desire to see the " far 
 west," as Ohio was then called, and be consulted with his 
 father regarding the matter, who said to him, "No doubt 
 Ohio has good land, but it has no market, and never can 
 have, since it is an inland State." His anxiety to see the 
 much heard of land of promise increased, however, and in 
 1819 he set out on horseback to see that remote country. 
 
 His father-in-law had settled in Ohio, at W^orthiugton, 
 near Columbus, and after a ride of sixteen or eighteen days 
 he reached his hotne. He was much pleased Avith the 
 country, but thought the climate must be bad, as the coun- 
 tenances of tin; famih" he noticed were a trifle sallow. 
 
 From there he set out for" New Connecticut," or what is 
 now known as the "Western Reserve, "whicli comprises some 
 thirteen counties in the north-east part of the State. While 
 on his journey, he came one evening, not far from the hour 
 of sunset, to the dismal, solitary house of a settler, and 
 from him gained the intelligence that the next house was 
 twenty miles' distant. Being rather anxious to reach liis 
 destimition, he resolved to push on, but darkness settled 
 upon the ])ath before him; he was unable to keep the nar- 
 row traek marked oul}' by blazed trees, and he was 
 reluctantly forced to halt until the rising of the moon 
 should light him on his way with her friendly beams. In 
 the distance he heard the dismal howl of a puck of wolves, 
 and in a state of much disquiet became aware of their near 
 approach. His thoughts worked with the speed of light- 
 ning, and the one in predominance was how he could save 
 himself, and that was easily done by climbing a tree, but,
 
 THE ALLYN FAMILY. 17 
 
 alas! his poor horse would be killed and devoured by the 
 eaper, hungry pack, and he could not well aflord to lose this 
 faithful beast, and manfully resolved to figiit them off. 
 Accordinj^l}' he cut a larj^'e club and stood in defense ready 
 to give them some sore heads ere they should secure their 
 exjiected pre}'. 
 
 AVith gleaming eyes and hungry looks the wolves ad- 
 vanced nearer and nearer, and as the valiant little man 
 fearlessly stood his ground they went around him howling 
 dismally, not daring to attack him, and now, as the queen 
 of night sails majestically up and lights the scene, the}' 
 left him unmolested, and he was able to resume his journey, 
 reaching the house he was in quest of before night folded 
 her starry mantle. 
 
 After viewing the "New Connecticut" he started for home, 
 where he arrived after a twelve days' journey. He was 
 much pleased with tlie country, but not until the spring of 
 1822 couhl he get his wife to consent to " go west " to Ohio 
 and leave their Barkhamsted home. In six weeks after 
 gaining her conseiit tliey were on the road with two yoke of 
 oxen, one large wagon, one one-horse wagon, one cow and 
 one horse. Nelson Gilbert, son of Asa Gilbert, went with 
 them and his expenses were borne for the assistance he was 
 enabled to render. 
 
 They left Barkhamsted in the month of June, during the 
 early ]iart of the month, and were four weeks on the road. 
 They did not make any permanent settlement until the fol- 
 lowing August. Three more children were added to the 
 number in their new home — Watson, Orson, and Orville — 
 and these were born in Hiram, Portage county. Watson 
 was born June 4, 1821; Orson, July 25, 182G; and Orville, 
 March 10, 1829. 
 
 Pelatiah was a successful and well-to-do farmer, and 
 lived to see his promise verify itself, in giving to each of his 
 children, ten in number, one hundred acres of land. As to 
 his personal appearance, he was about five feet ten inches in 
 height, with light hair, blue eyes, and a round red face. His 
 figure was somewhat plump and round, and he was not 
 an imposing-looking man. He was a wiry, sinewy man, 
 whose muscles never tired, and whose endurance knew no 
 limit. 
 
 He was ambitious and hopeful, ever eager for the 
 unborn to-morrow, with new plans and new hopes.
 
 1,S TlIK ALLYN FAMILY. 
 
 Willi " never say die " for bis motto, he kuew no such word 
 ns fail. 
 
 AiiH'liii Tink)r, liis wife, was a tall, Lony woman, with 
 {,'reat jiowers of endurance. She was six feet in hei^'iit, and 
 in her ])rime wei;,djed two liundred ])Ounds. She was a 
 person who knew her own mind and could speak it plainly 
 when or;casion required. She was a most kind and indul- 
 gent mother, and as she g;revv feeble and a;,'ed, with one 
 voire her cliildren could "rise up and call her blessed." 
 
 She and her husband both lived to see the day when Ohio 
 had a market and was fast assuming its jjlace among the 
 first States of the Union. They lived to enjoy its rapid 
 growth and jnosperity, and with pleasure and appreciation 
 of Invention's mighty march journeyed over the iron roads 
 of their adopted State, in strong contrast to the way in 
 which they entered its limits, with their carts drawn by slow 
 l)lodding oxen. Pelatiah Allyn 4th died December 18, 
 IH.K); Amelia Taylor, his wife, September 13, 18G7. The 
 former died from paralysis, to which the Allyn family have 
 a tendency, the descendants fearing that disease more than 
 any other. 
 
 I'elatiah and Amelia Allyn had ten children, fonr of 
 whom are now living; grandchildren, 56, 31: of w^hom are 
 living; great-grandchildren, 51, 38 of whom are living. 
 Mary Ann, tiie oldest child, married, January, 1827, James 
 I. Young, who was by occupation a farmer. She had ten 
 children, four of whom are living; 13 grandchildren, ten 
 of whom are living. She died February 27, 1852. 
 
 Pelatiah, the oldest son, was by trade a carpenter. 
 March 12, 1835, he married Aileline Joslin, by whom he 
 had eight children, four living at present. Of his eleven 
 grandchildren, all are living. He died March 5, 1852. 
 
 Amelia Allyn married John Mason, July 14, 1812, he being 
 by occupation a farmer. She had nine children and four 
 grandchildren. Seven children are living and three grand- 
 children. She died September 9, 1882. Her husband lives 
 at Trenton, Missouri. 
 
 Ozias Allyn married Caroline Norton, May, 1838, by whom 
 he had two children, both now dead. September 30, 1844, 
 he married Anna Norton, and four children blessed this 
 union and arc still living. Ozias was a farmer. He died 
 May 18, 1883, from paralysis, he being a resident of Hiram, 
 Ohio.
 
 THE ALLYN FA MIL V. 
 
 19 
 
 "William H. Allyii nianietl, October, 1837, Sarah Ann 
 Slay ton, and bad nine cliildren and three grandchildren. Five 
 cLiidren are living and one grandcliild. He is by trade a 
 carpenter, and lives in Hardin county, Ohio. 
 
 Watson Allyn married, in 1837, Koxy M. Pinney, and 
 bad only one child, which is dead. He died in August, 1874, 
 He was a merchant. His widow resides in Ridgeway, 
 Hardin county, Ohio. 
 
 Cbestina Allyn was married, June 2, 1842, to E. M. 
 Young, and resides in Hiram, Ohio, and is the wife of a 
 carpenter. They have three children and two grand- 
 children. 
 
 Watson Allyn married, November, 1849, Hattie Vaugh; 
 October 24, 1857, Eunice Clark; and April 12, 187G, Rosella 
 Udall. He had two children by bis lirst wife, one by the 
 seccmd, which is dead, and two by the third wife, one of 
 which is living. He has one grandchild. He has a won- 
 derful mechanical genius and is "Jack at all trades." His 
 home is in Portage county, Ohio. 
 
 Orson Allyn married Elvira King in 185G, and had two 
 children and five grandchildren. He was a carpenter, and 
 died in November, 1874. 
 
 Orville Allyn, in January, 1855, married Lorinda E. 
 Young, and had three children, one of which died. He is 
 a farmer, and lives in Lucas county, Ohio. 
 
 Allot Pelatiahand Amelia Allyn'schildren were members 
 of the same church of which President Garfield was a mem- 
 ber when he died. They have been prominent men and 
 women wherever they have settled, of strong and energetic 
 character. 
 
 Three of Pelatiah and Amelia's grandchildren are college 
 graduates, Sutton E. and Clark M. Young-,, children of 
 Cbestina Allyn Young', and Frank P., sou of William H. 
 Allyn. They are graduates of Hiram College, of which 
 President Garfield was once both pupil and president. 
 
 Only one of Pelatiah and Amelia's children ever taught 
 school, which is worthy of mention, that one being Watson, 
 who taught for a considerable period in his younger days. 
 
 Four of the grandchildren of Pelatiah and Amelia came 
 to violent deaths. Aaron, son of Ozias, was killed in the 
 army; Kate, a daughter of Ozias, was thrown from a wagou 
 and injured so that she lived only a few hours; Allen 
 Young, sou of Mary Ann Allen Young, and William Mason,
 
 L'O TIIK ALI.YN FAMILY. 
 
 soil of Anioliu Allvii Allison, were both killed l)y an overdose 
 of moipliine. 
 
 Ill our lute war this family furnished five brave soldiers, 
 l)nt only one canie out alive. Edwin, son of Pelatiah otli,. 
 dit'd of disease in the army; Aaron, son of Ozias, whs shot at 
 port Gilison; Elijah, son of Amelia Mason, died of wounds 
 received in lintlle, as did also Homer, son of William H. 
 Allyn. He also sent his son Alvin, who returned iinlnumed 
 and is still livinj,'. 
 
 There seems to be an abundance of teachers in this branch 
 of the family, as Pelatiah 5th has a son and dau^ditcr, 
 Edward and Mary, who are teachers, as also were Fred, 
 Sarah, Amelia, children of Amelia Allyn Mason; Kate, 
 Aaron, Minnie, Emma, and Henry, children of Ozias; Mollie 
 and Frank P., children of "William Allyn; Rena A., Sutton 
 E. and Clark M., children of Chestiua Allyn Young. She 
 also has a son, Sutton E., who is a lawyer. He was also 
 elected to the State legislature, and was formerlv of Kenton, 
 Ohio. 
 
 Among all this long list of names of the grandchildren of 
 Pelatiah ami Amelia Allyn no disciple of Esculapius can be 
 found, which seems somewhat singular. 
 
 Of family relics, Watson Allyn has a compass which was 
 owned by his great-grandfather, Pelatiah 2d; a brass kettle 
 biuight during the war of 1812 by bis father, and also a 
 chain bought hy him in 1H20, and when he went to Ohio in 
 1S22, he carried a broad-ax, on which is stamped plainly 
 at the present day the name of Elijah Cannon. 
 
 Cliestina Allyn Young has a bible that bears her mother's 
 maiden name, Amelia Taylor, in it, and the date of her 
 marriage. 
 
 Pelatiah Allyn 4th was the second person with a family 
 that moved into Freedom Township, Ohio, at that time a 
 wilderness. Cajitain Payne was the first settler. One day 
 in the fall of 1832, Captain Payne and Pelatiah Ally a 
 shoiddered their muskets and started off hunting. Captain 
 Payne being a great hunter. They soon ran a cub up a 
 tree, and Cajjtain Payne, bringing his gun to his shoulder, 
 took deliberate aim and tired, and down came the cub, cry- 
 ing so loudly when attacked by the dogs that the mother 
 bear appeared u|)on the scene quite nncex-emoniously and 
 fouudit (h-sperately for her babe — bear, cub, and dogs all in 
 ft pile. Mr. Allyn went up close to try to shoot the bear
 
 THE ALLYX FAMILY. 21 
 
 aiul save the clogs, when the bear came for him aiul when 
 within six or eight ft-et of him he snapped his gnu, which 
 missed fire, and Captain Payne, in telling the story later, 
 said "his hairat tliat stai,>^e of utlairs stood stiaight up," as he 
 expected he should be foiced to use his rifle as a club, but 
 Mr. Allyn did not m(jve, but raised his gun and waited for 
 the beast to attack him, but she ran the' other way instead, 
 and they were glad to dispense with her company. 
 
 HENRY ALLYN. 
 
 Henry Allyn, second son of Pelatiah 3d and Mary Ann 
 Gillett, was born April 1, 1791. He married October 14, 
 1813, Sophia Taylor, daughter of Ozias Taylor of Canton, 
 she being a sister of his brotlier Pehitiah's wife. He lived 
 in the house on the road south of where 'Squire John Mer- 
 rell lived, the house for the past few years being owned 
 and occupied b}' the late George T. Carter. 
 
 They iiad nine children: Clarinda, Clarissa, Evaline, 
 Henry, Hiram, Sophia, Homer, Caroline, and Helen. All 
 his children were born in this town with the exception of 
 the 3'oungest daughter, Helen. 
 
 In June, 183"), Henry Allyn moved to Ohio with his en- 
 tire fanjily, with one exception. His oldest daughter re- 
 mained in Barkhamsted. He was accompanied by his brother 
 Mattliew and his famil}', and also by his mother. Tlieir 
 first stopping place was with the brother who had preceded 
 them in Hiram, Portnge county, an account of whose jour- 
 ney west and life thereafter has been given above. Henry 
 first took land and fitted a home in Freedom, Portage 
 county; afterwards he removed to Wellington, where some 
 of the family still live. 
 
 Clarinda, the oldest daui^hter, was born in lSl-1, and was 
 married September 10, LS3-4, to Daniel J. Ilexford. a son of 
 John Rexford of Center Hill, and lived in 13arkh,imsted un- 
 til a few years ago when they moved to Stamford, New 
 York. 'J'hey had seven children: Eniily, Oilo, Henry, Eva, 
 Ellen, Lizzie, and ^laiy. 
 
 Emily married Slieldon Johnson son of Ralph Johnson, of 
 Center Hill. She died h-aving one chilil, a son. His death 
 was caused by sliding down hill lying face downwartls upon 
 his sled, which ran against a tree — his head sinking the 
 tree and he was instantly killed.
 
 22 TlIK AU.YN lAMILY. 
 
 Olio iimiriftl Miss Siisjin Paddlcford of Colebrook, and 
 jit prcst'iit is 11 resident of Winsted and a man niucli re- 
 spoctt'd. He lias several children. 
 
 Henry nmrried INIiss Jfainette Guernsey, danj^diter of Jo- 
 sepli li. (liiernseyot Barkiianisted, and at once left his young 
 and fair bride for the toils and hardships of a soldier's life. 
 He enlisted Au^^ust 21, 1802, in Coinpauy E, 2d Artillery, 
 and was killed at Cold Harbor, June 1, 180-4. 
 
 Eva is a noted school-teacher, teaching tor a numlier of 
 years in Barkhamsted and vicinity; later in Winsted, where 
 she had a private school, and since their removal to New 
 York State she has taught in several of the western States 
 and meets with success. 
 
 Ellen married before they left Barkhamsted a Mr. Gibbs 
 of New York State, and at present resides at Pittsburg, 
 Penu., Mr. Gibbs forming one of the firm of T. H. Nevius 
 & Co. of that place. They have several children. 
 
 Lizzie is a graduate of Vassar College and a teacher. She 
 married a gentleman by the name of Graves, who also is a 
 teacher. 
 
 Mary is a graduate of IMount Holyoke Seminary, South 
 Hadley, and teaches in the same school with Mr. and Mrs. 
 Graves. Tiiey are a sui)erior family and have had tine edu- 
 cational advantages. Mrs. Bexford is a cultured and re- 
 liued lady. 
 
 Clarissa Allyn was born in 1818, and married Cornelius 
 Johnson, M. D. He died leaving two daughters. She 
 married John Gill; he died and left two sons and two 
 daii'j;hters. She died October 5, 18(59, aged 51 years. 
 
 Evaline Allyn, born in 1820, married Miles Saxton, who 
 died several years since, leaving her with three daughters 
 and one son. They reside in Olivet, Michigan. 
 
 Henry Allyn, born in 1823, married Nancy Mason and 
 died December, 1878, aged 55, leaving a widgw and three 
 daughters in Hiram, Ohio. 
 
 Hiram Allyn went to Ohio with his parents when but ten 
 years of age. At twenty-tive years of age he married Miss 
 Elizabeth Merrell, a daughter of Samuel Merrell of Bark- 
 hamsted, who had previously moved west to Galena, Illinois, 
 where his wife died, and on his return to Connecticut he 
 stopped to visit his sister — the wife of Matthew Allyn. Hi- 
 ram Allyn and Elizabeth Merrell had always attended school 
 together in Barkhamsted until they were separated bv' the
 
 THE ALLYN FAMILY. 23 
 
 removal west. Tliey were born the same year, the same 
 mouth, but not quite the same day, iind they were not slow 
 in renewing the friendsliii) of their childhood days. AVheu 
 Hiram saw the little girl of ten years had grown into a hand- 
 some and attiactive young lady, all the love he had felt for 
 the little school girl who had met him daily at the school- 
 house, romped with him hand in hand on the green at re- 
 cess, studieil froui the same book, recited in the same class, 
 returned ten-fold, and he found occasion soon to tell to the 
 sweet- faced Elizabeth the old, old story: 
 
 " I am strfiiig and you are weak, 
 Life is ))ut a .slippery steej), 
 Hung with .shadows cold and deep. 
 AVill you trust nie, Katie dear, 
 AValk beside me without fear? 
 May I carry, if I will, 
 All your burdens up the hill?" 
 
 And like the Katie we read in the sweet old poem: 
 
 " * * slie answered with a laugh, 
 No, but you may carry half." 
 
 So Hiram saved a long trip to Connecticut to woo the 
 fair girl, and they were wed, and now after the sunlight 
 and shades of many years, tliis same Hiram, far down life's 
 walk, out of the fullness of his heart sends greetings to the 
 author of Barkhamsted Reminiscences, and doubts if in the 
 wide world so good wives and mothers can be found as have 
 been reared among the hills and valleys of Barkhamsted, 
 and enthusiastically calls God's blessing to rest upon his 
 native town. 
 
 They have had eight children — five sons and three daugh- 
 ters. Emily, the eldest, is married and lives in Iowa. The 
 next were twin boys, but only one is living, who is nnirried, 
 and whose present residencQ is in Portage county. Kittie, 
 the second daughter, died at four years of age. Arthur, 
 Fred, Jennie, and Walter all live at home. 
 
 Elizabeth Merrell Allyn came to Barkhamsted in 1880, 
 during the month of September, accompanied by 'Mr. and 
 Mrs. Saxton {ni'i: Mary Allyn, daughter of Matthew). She 
 still retains the pleasant and pleasing expression which 
 characterized her when a girl. 
 
 Hirum Allyn now lives at Wellington, Ohio, and liis his-
 
 24 Tine AM-YX FAMILY. 
 
 tuiy sooiuod soinewliat clicrlared, lie beiiif,' one of the rest- 
 lesH, roviiiff iiiitiires, who thinks " variety tlie spice of life " 
 and nuist iuive chiinj^e to break the monotony of every-day 
 life. He retains pleasing recollections of his native town 
 and has always been proud of it, doubtless because he left 
 when he was a small lad. His memory is remarkably well 
 preserved in many respects for a boy of ten years, as he in 
 innij^n nation sees the school-house at the Center; the teacher 
 with uplitted hemlock whip descending upon his defense- 
 less head and back — reminding hitn niost vividly of his 
 short -comings; the old meeting-house, " the most romantic 
 of all, '' tlie lofty pulpit where the ministers gave to saint 
 and sinner their jjortion in due season, even as the great 
 Father-heart, out of its abundance, sends rain on the just 
 and on the unjust; tlie little bro(ik that summer and winter 
 went dancing and chattering down its rocky channel, where 
 in summer the boys made a dam and shut frogs and small 
 fish in its keeping, and all the many events of his child- 
 hood's days are dee2)ly impressed on the mind of the man 
 of to-day in his Ohio home. 
 
 Sophia Allyii, born in 1828, lived in Wellington and mar- 
 ried Frank Lewis. She died November 11, 1853, leaving 
 two children, a sou and daughter. 
 
 Allyn, born in 1834, married Joseph Snow, Avho 
 
 died, leaving her with two children. She then married a Mr. 
 Shumway and died in Michigan, leaving one child. 
 
 H.den Liicretia Allyn was born in Ohio in 1837, married 
 "William Saxton and has eight children, and now lives in 
 Humboldt county, Iowa. 
 
 Siiphia Taylor Allyn died August 4, 1852, aged 50. 
 
 In ^larch, 1853, Henry Allyn married Mrs. Louisa Tiflany, 
 widow of Timothy Tiilany, whose maiden name was Louisa 
 Hart, she being second daughter of Josiah Hall Hart. 
 Mr. Allyn lived with this second wife seven years and di d 
 August 3, 18G0, aged G8 years and 4 months. His widow 
 then went to Detroit, Micliigau, to live with a sou. 
 
 Tlieie is a traiHlion in the families who spell their name 
 Allyn that two brothers came from England and located in 
 AVindsor, and one of them wishing to distinguish his pro- 
 geny spelled his name differently from the old familiar way, 
 he speliing that of himself and family Allyn, while his 
 broihtr still retained the old way of Allen, and in this way 
 their descendants could be readily traced.
 
 THE ALLYN FAMILY. 25 
 
 MATTHEW ALLYN. 
 
 Matthew Allyn, the third sou of Pelatiah and Mary Aim 
 Allyn, was born April 1(!, 171)i. He married Clara iNIerrell, 
 daughter of John Merrell, who was born October 12, 17U4. 
 They were married May 8. 181G. They lived at the old 
 homestead, which was a large, old-fashioned house, and 
 here nine children were born — ^Matthew Jr., Maik, John, 
 James, Mary, Pelatiah, Phiiieas, George, and Ann. Tiiey 
 commenced naming- their children Bible names— Matthew, 
 Mark (skipping- Luke), John, etc. When they used to at- 
 tend school on the gieen the boys would call, " Matthew, 
 Mark, Luke, and John, take a stick and tuck it on." 
 
 In 1835 Mr. Allyn sold his farm in Barkhamsted, taking 
 in part payment wild timber land in Ohio, and emigrated 
 thence, going by the Erie Canal and lake steamers. For 
 two years after reaching Ohio he lived in the towns of 
 Hiram and Freedom, and then made a settlement in Wel- 
 lingtoii, Lorain county. He moved his goods with teams, 
 driving his cows, two in number. The roads were new and 
 very muddy, it being in the month of June. They enteied 
 the town from the east side, and his land laj' in the north- 
 east part, but they were obliged to go live miles around to 
 get one and a half miles. He sent Mary and Pelatiah 
 through the woods with the two cows, as they could get to 
 their destination in a nuich shorter time than to follow 
 around the traveled road. There was only a narrow foot- 
 jDath through the woods marked by blazed trees, but the 
 distance by this route was only two miles and the boy and 
 girl went alone, picking their way, and came out safe ou 
 the opposite side, where they waited several hours for the 
 remainder of their company. The little Mary was twelve 
 years old, and her brother two years younger. They slept 
 on the floor of a neighl)or's log house while their own was 
 being built, and this neigid)or gave the children some pump- 
 kin pie, which a woman of to-day allirms to be the "best 
 pie she ever titste<l." 
 
 Two more chihlren were born in Ohio — Albert and Cal- 
 vin — m^ king a f.imily of eleven children, nine sons and two 
 daughters, to whom I wdl introduce my readers as my 
 sketch of ^[altlifw Allyn and family progresses. He served 
 five termsin llie Connecticut legislature from B.-irkhamsted. 
 He was ;i colonel of militia in the war of 1812, and was
 
 26 'fHE ALI.YN FAMILY. 
 
 also justice of tlie i)eiice uud ti)\vii clerk. It is said of liiui 
 that he was a " natural scholar." His advantages for 
 schooling were limited, but it was hard to puzzle him ou a 
 matliematical problem. He was somewhat eccentric, en- 
 joying jokes in a manner peculiar only to himself. His 
 laugh always came after every one else had ceased laughing, 
 an(l then he would laugh long and loud. 
 
 During the journey from Barkhamsted to Ohio Matthew 
 AUvn took a severe cold which settled in his eyes, and not- 
 withstanding that remedial means were resorted to, the re- 
 sult was for the remainder of his life he was shut in dark- 
 ness, from all the many beauties which God in his goodness 
 has scattered abundantly on every hand to please the eye 
 and gladden the heart of every child of earth, without re- 
 gard to rank or station. Thirty years of almost total blind- 
 ness! Going as a pioneer into the wilds of Ohio, it left 
 great care upon the wife and mother, who heroically placed 
 her shoulder to the wheel, and with the assistance rendered 
 by her brave sons the " wilderness blossomed as the rose." 
 
 Matthew Allyn was a great reader, and to be deprived of 
 this blessed privilege was a source of great sorrow, and he 
 labored under a severe nervous prostration; so his children 
 read to him always evenings and all the spare time they 
 could get, which was a source of benefit to them all, 
 as most of his children were remarkably fine readers. He 
 was a man beloved b}' all who knew him, and was always 
 called Colonel Matthew Aliyn. He possessed sterling qual- 
 ities, high moral principle and a Christian character, which 
 he sustained through many seasons of severe trial. He 
 died January, 18G2, aged G8 years. 
 
 Clara Merrell, the wife of Matthew Allyn, was considered 
 quite handsome in her girlhood. At that period the ladies 
 when invited to ride by a gentleman were, from the custom 
 and necessity of so doing, obliged to ride either on a 
 blanket or pillion behind their escort. Some were graceful, 
 easy riders; others were timid and would ofttimes fall off. 
 Ou one occasion there was to be a great party at the Up- 
 son house, now known as the 'Squire's house, between Riv- 
 erton and Pleasant vallej'. All the young people far and 
 near were invited. Clara Merrell made one of the number, 
 riding behind her beau on a nice blanket of her own work- 
 manship. After leaving Pleasant valley they thought best 
 to whip up the horses and ride across the flat, coming to
 
 THE ALLYN FAMILY. 27 
 
 the Upsou mansion in style. The whips were brought into 
 requisition and away went the horses and merry riders. 
 Soon one of the number was missing and one gent found 
 himself without a partner. The horses were brought to a 
 standstill and Clara Merrell was found to have fallen off. 
 An aged lady tells me that whoever invited Clara Merrell 
 to ride horseback was obliged to keep his horse from a can- 
 ter or else she would change her seat from the saddle to 
 one on the ground in a short time. 
 
 It is said of this most noble and worthy Christian woman 
 that " none knew her but to love her." She was for many 
 years a teacher in the Sunday-school, until a short time 
 before her death, and the children for miles knew her and 
 were strongly attached to her. The last time she visited 
 the home of her birth she met the friends of her A-outhful 
 days, some who, like her, had come from a distance to view 
 once more the familiar scenes of " auld lang syne." The 
 writer of these reminiscences well remembers the days of 
 visiting; the stories that were passed from lip to lip; the 
 m-erry laugh that followed the recital of each; the songs 
 they sang when life was full of laughter and sunshine, and 
 the yet-unborn future seemed full of promise and bright- 
 ness; but the voices then were full of the old-time songs of 
 praise and trembled with age, and each one was a prayer as 
 it ascended to the throne of the Great I Am. 
 
 Change has visited each one since then. Time's wheel 
 has turned over and over, and carried with it at each revo- 
 lution some to far western homes; some have passed ou 
 into the dark and mysterious portals of Death, while others 
 sit in darkness and sorrow, bereft of home, of friends, and 
 of sight. 
 
 Clara Merrell Allyn died in August, 187G. An obituary 
 notice of her death occupied three columns in length in the 
 Wellington En't'rprisa ; also a shorter one was presented 
 through the columns of the Adiuiucc, which will show my 
 reailers the love and esteem the people of Wellington and 
 vicinity cherished for her: 
 
 " Died at the home of her son, Pelatiah Allyn, in north- 
 east Wellington, September 1-4, 1S7G, Mrs. Clara Allyn, 
 widow of Colonel ^Matthew Allyn, deceased. All knew and 
 loved ' Grandma Allyn.' It is believed that her name is 
 as intimately and necessarily blended with important inter- 
 ests of Wellington as any on the record of its existence.
 
 28 'lin: AI.I.VN I-AMIIA'. 
 
 " C'(j1(jiic'1 INIattliew Allyii hikI wife with Iheir lar^e family, 
 ftt a very early day, ciiiue from New Enfflaud and settled in 
 this towiisliip, making out of the wilderness the home 
 where the deceased died. Upon the introduction of this 
 family to the then sparse community it was believed that an 
 ac([iiisition of unusual interest was made, and this belief the 
 future proved well founded. Colonel Allyn's character i)ar- 
 took larj^ely of liberalized sentiment and personal research, 
 while his wife bore in birth, education, and persistent habits 
 all the sterling qualities of a cultured, conscientious New 
 England lady and matron. 
 
 " 'J'his family became quite numerous, and their children 
 were sj)iriteil and ambitious — all workiijg, useful, and in- 
 telligent people, Avhile some compel recognition of unusual 
 merit in literary and business attainments. 
 
 "But to return more particularly to a brief notice of the 
 deceased. A word for her is as ample as many, for she 
 lived sacred in the memory of all who have known her. 
 'Tis said 'Hope springs eternal in the human breast.' 
 "With neighbors, friends — everybody — Grandma Allyii's 
 presence increased hope and courage and brought sliame to 
 despondency. Purity of purpose, persistency of effort, with 
 eiVcrvescing vivacity, were haliitual characteristics of a life 
 God had permitted to be of a very great age. 
 
 "It maybe safely asserted the going out of no other 
 presence in this conjmunity could be more sadly missed. 
 Her inspiring enthusiasm and religious zeal have promi- 
 nently lined this ommunity. The Sabbath-school was with 
 her a great delight and duty; all its interests have been 
 constantly served by her. Duty conquered unusual obsta- 
 cles, and storms and other inclemencies of weather were 
 never permitted to obstruct her way to her classes. She 
 always had a class. 
 
 " Many stalwart men near and far ofl" in the bustle of life 
 will learn of the death of ' Grandma Allyn ' with dimmed 
 eyes and quivering lip. Her presence and spirit had made 
 them love the Sal)l>ath-school. Her varied ways had lured 
 to those enchanted places, and religious convictions by her 
 inspired heart blended with unusual love of the teacher and 
 lasting memory of her spiritual power. "We loved to meet 
 her always. In her presence the thoughtless were different, 
 the sinning rebuked, the good better. AVe love to remem- 
 ber her; we love to ' rise up and call her blessed.' She has
 
 THE ALLYN FAMILY. 29 
 
 lived tbrougli the lights and shadows of eighty-three years 
 and eleven months, and now her sons and daughters, men 
 and women far down on life's walk, like the people of 
 AVellingtou, rise up and with one voice call her blessed, 
 blessed mother." 
 
 MATTHEW ALLYN'S FAMILY. 
 
 Matthew Jr., the oldest son of Matthew and Clara Mer- 
 rell Allyn, was born February 17, 1H17, and in 183G mar- 
 ried Miss Diana Kingsbury. He engaged in mercantile 
 life in AVellington, Ohio, and died in 1851, leaving six chil- 
 dren, three sons and three daughters. 
 
 The three sons died soon after reaching manhood of that 
 insidious disease, consumption. The two daughters are 
 married. Mrs. Ruth A. Tuttle lives iu Chicago; Mrs. Di- 
 ana Smith in Topeka, Kansas. The oldest daughter mar- 
 ried Thomas Ogden, who served in the war and was badly 
 wounded. He afterwards served many years ii^ postmaster 
 in Wellington, Ohio. She died of consuujption in Welling- 
 ton, leaving three children. 
 
 Mark Allyn, the second son, was born Novembers, 1818. 
 He was of nervous temperament and small in stature. He 
 acquired a classical education — read and practiced law. It 
 is said that a complete biograpuy of the life of this man 
 would make an entertaining and readable volume. He 
 served in the Mexican war, and was a man who had seen 
 much of the world, having made fiix trips to California by 
 land and water, once via Cape Horn which lasted four 
 months. This was in 1849, and upon reaching California 
 he immediately engaged in mining and accumidated prop- 
 erty rapidly. Once in crossing the plains with a train of 
 wagons loaded with merchandise, (two of which were his), 
 they were overpowered by Indians and he with a renjnant 
 of the party V>arel3' escaped with their lives, leaving ever}'- 
 thing in the hands of the Indians, with many of their com- 
 rades dead on the field. He returned to Ohio in ISoo and 
 married a Miss Young, near the classic shades of Hiram 
 College, presided over by the lamented. James A. Garfield. 
 His married life did not prove i)l('asant. They had one son 
 named Earnest. He moved to Grand Travers(^, ^Michigan, 
 and bought a large tract of land, but his health failed him,
 
 30 TUli ALLYX I'A^niA'. 
 
 ftiul lie came in 1873 alone to the old homestead to die 
 anion^' liis loved ones. 
 
 John Alljn, the third son, has led an eventful life, and as 
 much knowledge of liim has been placed at my disposal I 
 propose to devote a chapter to his wanderings. 
 
 James Allyn, the fourth son, was l)orn January 1, 1822. 
 He married; and died when but twenty-four years of age in 
 Wellington — his vocation being farming. He left no 
 children. 
 
 Mary Allyn, the oldest daughter, was born June 8, 1824. 
 May 13, 1849, she married William H. Saxton, and resides 
 in Oberlin, Ohio. Mary Allyn is of light complexion, dark 
 hair and eyes, and weighs about 180 pounds. She is a 
 genial, pleasant-faced woman of literary tastes, intuitive 
 and original. On one occasion the mother of Mar}' was 
 beard to say-in reply to the question as to whom she looked 
 like — " I did n't see as she looks like any of the rest, but I 
 can tell you whom she looks like, and that is Betsy Beach, 
 and a real smart-looking girl she was." Mrs. 'Allyn did 
 not even imagine that she was complimenting her daugh- 
 ter. Betsy Beach used to live down by the Beach Rock, 
 and it derived its name from her father. 
 
 Mary Allyn taught school for a number of years. Her 
 husband is b}^ occupation a farmer. They have had five 
 children, four of whom are living: Clara Ardelia, aged 28; 
 married Judson Henry. William John is married and has 
 three children. His age is 2G years. Arthur Albert, aged 
 20, and Edith May, aged 15. Mary Allyn Saxton lives in 
 Oberlin, Ohio. When she lived in B.arkhamsted, a bright- 
 eyed laughing child, she used to attend school where Julia 
 Beecher was the teacher, and now from her Ohio home she 
 sends greetings in her own peculiar manner to her old and 
 still fondly loved teacher, in the following jjoetical effusion: 
 
 " My dear old teacher I loved so well, 
 I loved her more than tougue can tell, 
 I loved her then, I love her still, 
 I'll now express it with a will." 
 
 Julia Beecher used to teach painting in her school, as one 
 branch of education, and Mrs. Saxton has cherished sacredly 
 all these years, the little " cards of merit " Avith the signa- 
 ture of her teacher and the birds and flowers artistically 
 done in water colors. Mrs. Saxton is quite a poet, and
 
 THK ALLYN FAMILY. 31 
 
 when in conversation with a friend, all unconsciously to 
 herself, she entertains them with s[)eciniens of her wit and 
 genius. 
 
 Pelatiah Allyn was born May 13, 182G. He is tall, of 
 dark complexion, and weighs about 145 pounds. He was 
 among the early gold-seekers of California. When Mark 
 Allyn left the Mexican war, where he had enlisted for the 
 United States at New Orleans, he went to the gold regions, 
 reaching there with just one dollar in his pocket, but in 
 one or two years had accumulated quite a handsome amount, 
 and on his return home the success he had met with in- 
 duced his brothers Pelatiah and Phineas, as well as some 
 of his neiglibors, to return with him. This was in the year 
 1851. Pelatiah remained in California two years, and from 
 there wandered to the Australian gold mines, journeying 
 nearly around the globe ere he returned He lived on the 
 Ohio homestead until 1881, when he sold it, and emigrated 
 to Hardy, Humboldt county, Iowa. He has been a noted 
 hunter, being very expert in killing deer and smaller game. 
 He mairied in 1803 and has four children. 
 
 Phineas Allyn was born September 'Id, 1829. He is tall, 
 of dark complexion, and weighs about 150 pounds. As be- 
 fore stated, he went to California in 1851 with his brothers 
 and neighbors, and after staying one year returned home 
 with $1,(J0(). He is now located at Duchville, Michigan, 
 and is a prosperous business man, engaged in general mer- 
 chandising. He acquired a classical education and was a 
 rare linguist. He married Celia ]5utler in 185-1 and had 
 seven children: Celia B., born in 1855, Clara in 1850, Ar- 
 thur T., 1857, Julia 11., in 18GU, William Butler in 18G3, 
 Nellie in ]8(;5, Watson G.. in 18G8. 
 
 George Allyn, bom December 17, 1831, died in 18G0, 
 aged 21). 
 
 Ann Allyn was born July 15, 1834. Slie is of dark com- 
 plexion and medium height. April 14, 1855, she married 
 her ■ " ..-•.. 
 
 Eilitii Clarinda, January, 18(i4; Jessie Helen, July, 1871; 
 Hul)ert Henry, September, 1874. Ciiarles H. is married 
 and has three children, and his vocation, like his father's, 
 is farming. Two of the daughters are gradiniles and one 
 is a successful teacher.
 
 32 'llli: AI.I-V.N FAMILY. 
 
 All)orl. AUyn w.is born July li), 1837. Ho is of li^'lit 
 coniploxinii. tall, und his iisuiii weij^ht is about 140 pouuds. 
 H(! sfiidicd law, l)ut in 1881 \\e n;nioved to Diikota, Aurora 
 ctnintv, |)urrli!isinfif three hundred acres of e.xcellent laud, 
 which he is improving', and is in most prosperous circ-uui- 
 stanees. He naarried in ISGl, and is now living with his 
 second wife and has seven children: Grace, born October, 
 ISnj; Harry Howard, 180.1; Hattie Josephine, 18(57; Ethie 
 ami Ella, twins, 187U; Abbie Mary, 1877; Bayard Taylor, 
 LSS2 
 
 Calvin E. Allyn, youngest son of Matthew and Clara Mer- 
 rell Allyn, was born October 10, 1841. He is 5 feet lU 
 inches Idgb and weighs 155 pounds. Is of dark complexion, 
 black hair and eyes; has a dignified, commanding appear- 
 ance; is aft'able, courteous, and pleasing in manners; is true, 
 just, charitable, forbearing, trustful, ])atient, cheerful, and 
 religious — a man of advanced thoughts and progressive 
 ideas. He is a man i)f tine literary taste and culture, strong 
 ])()W('rs of njind, and has the love and esteem of the people 
 among whom he resides. July 8, 18G1, he mairied Bina L. 
 Joyc->, daughter of Justice Joyce of Wellington, Ohio, be- 
 fore he was twenty years old, his bride being but seventeen, 
 but the war news tired his blood as it had his father's fifty 
 years before, and he enlisted the following Sejjtember in 
 the 2d Ohio volunteer cavalry, in which he served a littl-e 
 over three years, two years of which was active service in 
 the lield in Missouri, Kansas, Arkansas, Indian Territory, 
 Kentucky and Tennessee, he taking part in twenty engage- 
 ments without harm except gun shots through his clotljing. 
 His last year of service was as chief clerk in the Ordnance 
 Department at Headquarters Department of the Ohio, at 
 Knoxville, Tennessee. When his term of service had ex- 
 pired he hastened home to his wife and mother, refusing a 
 salary of $1,200 per year to return, as the ties of home were 
 stronger. His father in 18(51 had sent his youngest boj- 
 into the face of death with a " God bless you and keep you," 
 and when the son, who had seen his brave comrades fall 
 dtad all around him, returned himself unhurt to the home- 
 nest the voice of his father did not reach him welcoming 
 home the wanderer, for in 18(52 he had finished the great 
 battle of life and with the ebbing of the tide he had reached 
 the end of the walk from which no wayfarer returns. 
 
 in the fall of 1804 Calvin Allyn with his wife, moved to
 
 THE ALLYN FAMILY. 33 
 
 Cleveland, Ohio, and forming a copai'tnership with his 
 brotlier Albert he bought a stock of merchandise and en- 
 gaged in trade, but sold out again in a few months, when 
 he accepted a position in a lumber yard as salesman, in 
 which business he has been employed since (the last four- 
 teen years as book-keeper), and at present is a silent 
 partner in the firm bearing the name of "Rust, King & 
 Clint." 
 
 The wife of Calvin E. Allyu deserves something more 
 than a passing notice. She is a woman who quickly gains 
 the friendship of every one who is brought into the genial 
 atmosphere of her presence. None know her intimately 
 but to love her, she being an intellectual and highly accom- 
 plished lady. She is widely known for her charitable and 
 benevolent deeds; is a i)rominent member of the " Woman's 
 Temperance Missionary Society;" has written and read sev- 
 eral pajjcrs before the society on the work in China, India, 
 and tlie Zenana scIjooI in Africa, which have been liighly 
 complimented. They have had five children. The two 
 oldest died when the little flowers were but mere buds, one 
 little sunbeam removed from their daii}' life at fifteeu 
 months, the other at two years and two months. Ettie E., 
 born July 21, 1805; Nellfe A., February 16, 18G7; Gertie 
 S., June 3, 1870^ Howard E., February G, 1872, and Ruth 
 M., January 19, 1874. These children are all lovely, are 
 well advanced in school, and Gertie is very proficient in 
 music, playing the piano finely, 
 
 JOHN ALLYN, 
 
 the third son of Matthew and ('lara iMerrell Allyn, was 
 born on the ancestral homestead in Barkhanisted, August 
 29, 18'2(), As soon as old enough he assisted in the farm 
 work during the summer season, and attended the district 
 school during the winter months. At an early age he ex- 
 hibited a studious turn of mind, was shy and retiring, 
 and iidierited a strong tendency to sick-headache wiiich 
 was so violent as to cause vomiting. He also inherited a 
 feeble constitution, small lungs, which have a tendency to 
 cause the fear of consumjition, but by care and temperate 
 habits, regular and moderate activity, he at the present 
 time enjoys uniformly a good degree of vigor and com- 
 fortable health.
 
 M THE AM.YN lAMILY. 
 
 AVIicii lie was fifteen yeuis old his father sold the farm in 
 Biukhiiiiisted and moved to Ohio, as before stated, and 
 owin^' to the <,'reat calamity which fell upon the family, in 
 the hjsH of sifj^ht to the husband and fatlier, much labor 
 and responsibility was necessarily thrown upon John, which 
 he met right manfully, realizin;^' that the welfare of the 
 fanuly depended largely upon his exertion. He helped to 
 build a log house, clear a farm, plant an orchard, build and 
 run a saw-mill, and was thus employed until he reached 
 his twentieth birthday. He had an active mind, a retentive 
 memory, was quick to learn, and had been by both fatlier 
 and mother encouraged to cherish the hope that he might 
 acquire a collegiate education. He loved study for its own 
 sake. His thirsty mind was continually reaching out for 
 wisdom and knowledge, but being fully conscious of the 
 inability of his parents to gratify his desire, at the age of 
 twenty his father gave his consent that he should, if pos- 
 sible, educate himself — he to render assistance if it were in 
 his power to do so. 
 
 This young man took up bravely the battle, determined 
 to possess the desiied prize. He spent two years in Ober- 
 lin's preparatory school, supporting himself by working 
 two or three hours a da}' in summer and teaching in winter. 
 He then went to Quincy, 111., and continued to pursue his 
 classical studies ; read a thorough course of law, was ad- 
 mitted to practice in the supreme court in May, 1846, mostly 
 su])portiug himself through it all. Not being satisfied with 
 this, he resolved to pursue a course of theological studies, 
 and for that purpose went to Lane Theological Seminary, 
 at Cincinnati. 
 
 Before entering this seminary he studied by himself three 
 mouths, and was fully qualified to enter the second year, 
 and was then permitted to do so, comijleting the three years' 
 course in a little more than two years, supi^orting himself 
 in the mean time. At his graduation he was granted the 
 valedictory address, an indication of the highest position 
 in scholarship of the class. 
 
 This school at the time was somewhat celebrated, being 
 })resided over by Dr. Lyman Beecher; and Professor Stowe, 
 husband of Mrs. H. B. Stowe, of "Uncle Toms Cabin" 
 fame, was a professor in the same institution. Feeling 
 that he had made great achievements, he did not deem it 
 wise, as he found by this constant labor and close ajDplica-
 
 THE ALLYN FAMIf.Y. 35 
 
 tion to study that he bad impaired bis bealtb. He was tbeu 
 licensed by the Ciuciuuati Presbytery and entered ui)OU 
 Lis duties as a Christian minister. He was by nature and 
 training' fluent of speech and loved his work, but he found 
 bis mind uudergoino; a change, and a radical one. He d d 
 not consider the theology sound, and passed tlirougb a 
 severe mental struggle. He knew be would be misunder- 
 stood, his motives suspected, and his chances of advance- 
 ment and settlement much imjjaired, but with his con- 
 science upbraiding Inm be resolved to manfully meet his 
 struggle with duty, and abandon the profession he could 
 not countenance and adorn, and once taking the step he has 
 never looked back u])on it with regret. 
 
 He then returned to Illinois and taught in the public 
 schools for some time, and next commenced the practice 
 of law in Carrolltou. In the fall of 1850 he wrote an es- 
 say on the "Will and Moral Nature,'" which was higldy 
 commended by learned men. and be gave it to the j)ublic 
 in an attractive form, but it proved too metaphysical to be 
 popular. At this period he suffered for months with de- 
 bility and various forms of malarial fever. 
 
 In the spring of 1851 he went to California by ocean and 
 the isthmus of Panama, going b}' open boats and mules 
 where DeLesseps is now building the ship canal. He 
 hoped by this change to im^^rove his health and fortune, 
 but had no idea of acquiring great wealth, or of remaining 
 in the country more than a year or two. He took the first 
 ship for San Francisco, which was wrecked and put back 
 for repairs. The next voyage was successful, and he jno- 
 ceeded directly to the mines, which he reached foot-sore, 
 destitute, in feeble health and $400 in debt. "Whatever 
 his hands found to do he did it with a will, like thousands 
 of others, without regard to station or education. 
 
 AVhen the fall rains came he was obliged to give up 
 mining, not having strength requisite for the severe labor 
 which it involved. He then engaged in making macliinos 
 for washing gold, at which he secured some capital, which, 
 with his brother Mark as partner, he invested in merchandis- 
 ing in the town of Sonora, where he remained until 1855, 
 when he returned to Illinois and nnirried Miss Soi)hia Hob- 
 son, of Green county, and returned to California. 
 
 He had one sou, Charles, who is now al)out twenty-seven 
 years old, and is working in the Star printing-oliice. This
 
 3G TMK ALI.YN FAMILY. 
 
 nmrriiif^e was most iinforf.nnute, and resulted in a separa- 
 tion and divoice. He left all business and went on a 
 mining,' trip up Frazer river in British Columbia. Not 
 nicetiiiicf with mncli success he settled in Victoria and ac- 
 rpiircd some real estate which soon became valuable. In 
 1S(U) he returned east, spent the winter in Ohio, and in the 
 sprinj,' he married Miss So])hronia Scott, (biiifjchter of the 
 late William Scott, Esq., of Peterl)oro, N. H., June, 18G1, 
 b}' whom he had twin dauj^hters, both dyin*:^. This wife, 
 bein<i^ an intelligent and thrifty New Kngland woman, proved 
 a blessing and a helpmeet. 
 
 At the breaking out of the war tliey sailed for San Fran- 
 cisco, and on the ])assage formed the acquaintance of the 
 collector of Puget Sound district, who engaged them to 
 superintend the U. S. Marine Hospital at Fort Towusend, 
 W. T. After filing this engagement they passed over to 
 Victoria and made improvement to the property there, but 
 finding the place slow, in 18G3 he sold out and removed to 
 Oakland, Cal., where he engaged in real estate, meeting 
 with great success, and in a few years had acquired a hand- 
 some competence. 
 
 About 18(!8, when their little daughters were removed by 
 death, the strong winds brought bronchitis to Mr. Allyn, 
 and he was forced to seek a milder climate, which he found 
 in St. Helena, sixty miles north of San Francisco. 
 
 During his stay in the east in 18G0 he studied dentistry, 
 which he practiced in the Marine Hospital, and afterwards 
 in San Francisco, in connection with his real estate deal- 
 ings, and now having gained a competence, he is called 
 to-day a rich man at 63 years of age. "Within the cor- 
 porate limits of St. Helena he has purchased twenty 
 acres of line land, unimproved except a vineyard of twelve 
 acres, which he has cultivated with great success. In 1880 
 9G tons of grapes grew on it, which sold for $2,400. He 
 built his fine residence, opened an avenue through it and 
 planted a row of eucalyptus trees on each side, some of 
 whicli are now 18 inches in diameter and 50 feet high. 
 
 ^Ir. Allyn has never sought political life, but served in 
 Sonora as alderman, and in St. Helena as town trustee, 
 and for the past five years as school ti ustee. 
 
 In personal appearance Jolm Allyn is tall and thin, five 
 feet ten inches high and weighs 130 pounds. He is slow in 
 making up his mind in important matters, but of great
 
 THE ALLYN FAMILY. 37 
 
 tenficity of purpose when he reaches a conclusion. Al- 
 though feeble in physical constitution, he is possessed of 
 great tenacity and reactive force. 
 
 This sketch of his life will give my reader suflficient in- 
 dication of the restlessness of his disjxisition. From slieer 
 weariness of quiet village life, in 1875 he went to San Fran- 
 cisco to engage in the excitenient of mining stocks, where 
 lie found even more of this than lie had imiigined. For six 
 months during the Bonanza excitement he was in the board 
 of brokers eveiy day, and saw fortunes made and lost at 
 every turn of the market. Feelii'g that this partook too 
 much of the character of gambling, he returned to St. 
 Helena. He depended upun himself and has reached 
 his present attainments and fortune by his own efforts, un- 
 aided by capital, or the influence of others. He has at- 
 tained his ideal of life; has an income sufficient for all his 
 wants and desires. His days are d.ivided thus: Three hours 
 recreative labor in his garden and vineyard, three hours 
 reading and three in writing. At 59 years of age he com- 
 menced writing poetry for the press, and some of his poetry 
 has become quite popular in the locality in which he 
 resides. 
 
 In concluding this fainily history, the compiler will add 
 that he does not claim phenomenal talents or achievements 
 for any member of the family ; but he does claim that they 
 have been law-abiding, industrious, and self-respecting 
 citizens. He deems the following incident worthy of 
 record : At a family re-union, held at the residence of 
 Homer Allyn, in Wellington, Ohio, in 1880, the oldest 
 representative, in an after-dinner speech, said " that he 
 had never known one bearing the family name to be intox- 
 icated, or to be arraigned before a court for violation of 
 law, or to ask assistance of the public' 
 
 27,3666
 
 rniLosoPHY 
 
 Mind in Volition, 
 
 Bt John Allts. — Published 1851. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 "WILL DEFINED, AND QUESTION STATED. 
 
 1. The question whetber will is free or necessitated in its 
 action, is .it once the most subtle and comprehensive that 
 ever occupied the human mind. No question has more 
 engaged the thoughts and discussions of philosophers in all 
 ages. And in every age and country within the historic 
 period, the learned and the unlearned, practical men and 
 philosophers, have been nearly equally divided. Aud yet 
 the idea of the will's action seems to be a key to the science 
 of mind, of morals, an important branch of theology 
 and penal legislation. Important as is this question, and 
 much as it has baffled the investigation of inquiring minds, 
 it is a simple (|nestion of facts ; the facts are all within and 
 around us, and readily cognizable by the human faculties. 
 After a somewhat patient course of reading and laborious 
 reflection, the whole subject seemed wholly dili'erent from 
 the views presented by any writer on the subject. 
 
 When most of what follows was first written, not the 
 slightest thought was entertained of its publication in a 
 permanent form ; and this was consented to only after 
 earnest solicitations from those whose judgment is cousid-
 
 WILL AND MORALS, 39 
 
 ered good in such matters. If the conclusions are sound, 
 they will be useful ; if not, let their fallacy be pointed 
 out. 
 
 2. For near a century, the Ulcrnti of Europe and America 
 considered the justly celebrated work of President Edwards 
 on the will as unanswerable. ^lany still think so, while 
 others consider it entirely overthrown. The work is truly 
 great. Such a combination of literar}' qualities can scarce 
 be found in the compositions of one author, ancient or 
 modern, as is found in Edwards' work. The thought is 
 subtle and penetrating, and at the same time wide-spread, 
 grasping, and exhausting, the reasoning gigantic, and still 
 many of his conclusions 
 
 "Like the baseless fabric of a vision." 
 
 Some latent fallacy generally lurks in the premises or in- 
 ferences which vitiates the conclusion. 
 
 3. The gist and vital principle of this, as of all other ques- 
 tions, especially abstruse ones, lie in a ver}' small compass. 
 For the sake of brevity, I shall endeavor to confine my dis- 
 cussion to the gist, convinced that those who will not think 
 enough tu bring their minds to the "point," will not do so 
 with a tiresome mass of suburb recouuoitering. As an im- 
 portant ))reliminary to the discussion, the reader's attention 
 is invited to the followiiicf 
 
 DEFINITION OF WILL. 
 
 4. The will is that power orfacuVy of the mind by mfans of 
 which the agent i.s controlled or controls his own nets and men- 
 tal slates. Tlie will is the mental power or faeulUj of willing. 
 Willing or volition is an act of mind producing a muscular 
 movement, or a slate (f mind of similar character, u-hich has 
 ■not a muscular movement for its object, and in ivhich all llie 
 other faculties concur peaceably or forcibly. 
 
 President Edwards' definition of will is not much difTer- 
 ent. He says: " The will is that l)y which the nniid chooses 
 anything. Tlie facidty of the (//// is that faculty, or power, 
 or principle of the mind by which it is capable of rhonsing. 
 An act of the will is the same as au act of choosing or choice." 
 Essay on the Will, page 2. 
 
 Mr. Locke says, " The will signifies nothing but a power
 
 40 WILI- AND MOUALH. 
 
 or iihiVily io pn^/'i'r or chooio'." — Ilnmaa Uadi'mlandiur/, llh 
 tuL, rol. /, piKj*" I'.'T. 
 
 5. The atti'iitive reader will observe that in this defini- 
 tion no attempt is made to determine the question. whether 
 the will is a distinct organ or faculty of mind, exercising in 
 its acts ft giveji i)art of the mind, or the whole mind acting 
 in a i)articular manner or function. It is not the province 
 of the nietaphvsician to determine which of these is true of 
 vt)liti()U, or of any thought or feeling. His field is the 
 mind's conscious being and action; and liis last appeal is 
 to consciousness, which says nothing of the constituent 
 substance or being of the mind. This is purely a question 
 of ])hrenology, and must be determined by other methods 
 of investigation. It is generally conceded that every move- 
 ment of the voluntaiy muscles is caused by an act of will. 
 But some volitions have nothing to do with the physical, as 
 a willing to suppress a too clamorous desire by awakening 
 pure thoughts and feelings. 
 
 I now invite the reader's careful attention to the 
 
 STATEMENT OF THE QUESTION. 
 
 C. The question is not whether we " do as we please," or 
 whether in the mind's action or volition we are " governed 
 by the strongest motive;" for we have no means of deter- 
 mining the strongest motive, except, as President Edwai'ds 
 says, thatit " causes volition." Nor is the question "whether 
 we do as God predetermined we should do." These, and 
 many other issues that have been made, do not reach the 
 merits of the case. This may appear in the sequel. 
 
 7. The true question I conceive to be this: Is mind, in 
 its choices, volitions, or actions, governed by, or conformed 
 to, the law of causation, or is it amenable only to the no- 
 law of chance? Is ever}' mental action a link in the great 
 chain of causation ? With given antecedents, consisting of 
 the constitution and state of the mind, and all matter out- 
 side of the mind that comes in contact with it, so as to ex- 
 ert an influence in the nature of motive, mual one action, 
 one volition follow, or maij one or two or moi'e volitions 
 follow? Does the law of causation obtain in the empire of 
 mind as it does in the kingdom of matter ? To illus- 
 trate — all intelligent persons concede that every particle of 
 matter is moved only as it is acted upon, in accordance with
 
 WILL AND MORALS. 41 
 
 the laws of matter, which have been reduced to mathemati- 
 cal certainty, in many cases, by philoso[)hers. Tins is- as 
 equally true of the tornado, the volcano, and the cataract, 
 as of the apparently more regular movements of the planets 
 in their orbits. 
 
 Take a particle of water as it is condensed from the 
 night air and assumes the globular form in a dewdrop 
 on the petals of a rose; as morning advances it is dis- 
 persed, arises in the morning mist, floats off and is min- 
 gled with other clouds, is condensed to rain by a shaft of 
 electricity as it flashes across its darkness, falls on the 
 turbid bosom of the Niagara, is hurried over the falls, 
 goes whirling and dashing among the eddies beneath, 
 arises in tlje spray, floats off to the land, is agjuu condensed, 
 falls, and enters the circulation of a plant, and reappears 
 in nature's paint on the opening petals of its flowers. In 
 all its mutations it moves only as it is moved by the forces 
 acting upon it. With given antecedents, no two motions 
 can ensue. In short, every motion of every particle of mat- 
 ter in the universe, is a link in the chain of causation which 
 uecessarily connects it back to the Great First Cause, in 
 the impulse imparted to it in the first dawning of creation, 
 with the single exception of miraculous interposition, and 
 such matter as is acted on by mind if the will be free 
 from law. 
 
 Now I conceive that the question at issue between the 
 necessitarian and tlie freedomist resolves itself into this: 
 Is mental action governed by the law of causation ? or is 
 every mental action caused by an antecedent? I do not 
 recollect of having seen a similar statement by any writer 
 on the subject; but it api)ears to me, after years of refl. c- 
 tion, to comprehend the merits of the case, and to place tiie 
 subject in a light easier to be understood, and better a(hq)ted 
 to discussion than any I have thought of. Tlierefore I shall 
 discuss the question as stated. I have been thus prolix in 
 the statement, because disputants, in the discussions of ab- 
 struse questions, often differ merely because they do not 
 understand each other's positions. I wish to be understood; 
 and have taken thus much i)ains that those wishing to un- 
 derstand need not mistiinh'rs/aiKl or misrcprrsiuL In the 
 uext chapter I intend to examine the argument of those 
 who contend for the freedom of the will.
 
 42 WILL AND MOUALS, 
 
 TRUE ISSUE. 
 
 8. Siuce tlio above statement of the question at issue be- 
 tween tlie freeJomist and necessitarian was in manuscript, 
 it lias been i)ronounced by those whose authority is among 
 the first, a correct and lucid statement of the true issue. 
 But as some whose ojiinions are entitled to consideration 
 Lave expressed a doubt of its involving the true issue, 
 it is thought best to add a few considerations, which it 
 was thought unnecessary to embody in the original state- 
 ment. 
 
 The statement of the question, is the Avill free, is the will 
 necessitated? is too vague for philosophical discussion, un- 
 til it is determined what it is understood to be free from, 
 and what controlled by. If we stickle for words, we may 
 get such a succession or concatenation as pleases us, but 
 we can never arrive at clearness of ideas. The word " free- 
 dom " in its ordinary meanings, embodies the idea of ab- 
 sence of restraint on our desires or wills; but when applied 
 to the mode of the action of the loill itaelf, the meaning 
 must necessarily be somewhat difl'erent. It can scarcely 
 amount to a philosophical question whetuer we are free to 
 do as we please; for though there may be desires in oppo- 
 sition to volition, yet what on the whole pleases us best, we 
 will; and if we are restrained b}' anything not acting as mo- 
 tive from doing as we will, this has nothing to do with the 
 previous action of the will about which our inquiries apper- 
 tain. It is not an absurd or impossible supposition that 
 both our U'i//.s and our pleasure concerning them, are con- 
 trolled in harmony with each other by an irrefragable frame- 
 work and chain of causation; or the}' may both act in con- 
 formity to absolute contingence, and yet in harmon}' with 
 each other. To determine which of these is true, we must 
 appeal to " the law and testimony" pertinent to the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 It can not be a complete issue whether the will acts 
 " spontaneously." The will itself being an active power 
 or princi|)le of the mind, must have greater or less inherent 
 power of acting; .•aid the will in acting cannot be isolated 
 from, but is intlnenced in the nature of, motive, by the other 
 faculties as tliey stand extant in consciousness. I confess 
 I do not know what the precise idea is, which is meant to 
 be conveyed by the term " spontaneity of will." Plants
 
 WILL AND MORALS. 43 
 
 are said to f^row spontaneously when they are in(lip;enous 
 to the soil aud have no assistance from culture; still their 
 growth is according to the law of their own nature. But 
 whether the action of the w'ill be according- to its nature, is 
 no question, until it be determined whether that nature 
 and organization for acting, be one of law or contingeuce. 
 
 CHAPTEK II. 
 
 THE FREEDOMISt's ARGUMENT EXAMINED. 
 
 Wan iieitlier does nor can know anything of mind or matter except 
 by observation. — Bacon Transposed. 
 
 d. I wish to say in the outset tbat I entertain sentiments 
 of profound res]x>ct towards the aiUhors of whom I speak. 
 Their writings have done the world great service. When I 
 speak of their (sup])osed) errors, I speak thus positively 
 simply because I think as I say, and do not wish to aflect 
 modesty by pretending to doubt. 
 
 10. My readers (and especially those unaccustomed to 
 analyze the mental powers and processes) ma}' think there 
 is unnecessary hair-splitting, retinement, and subtlet}'. To 
 this I answer, it is my province to exhibit the strata, seams, 
 and laminjc of the mental quarry, as the Creator has formed 
 and comi)acted them. If nature is refined, I must refine; 
 if I succeed in following hrr, I am content. 
 
 11. For a long period mankind made very little progiess 
 in science, because the method of investigation indicated at 
 the head of this chapter was not pursued; thus the intellect 
 of Greece, Home, and the middle ages (and there was 
 great power of intellect) was wasted to a great extent in 
 fraujing systems according to their own notions, instead of 
 investigating how the one we live in is constituted. Since 
 the days of Galileo, Baco'n, and Newton, the iin\'sli(/a/i(>n 
 method has been ap})lied, and the progress in physical 
 science has been unparalleled. Although metaphysi(.-ians 
 avow this method, I can but attribute the slow progress of 
 mental science to the influence of the old together with the 
 fact that the age has become very practical (if money-
 
 44 \VII,I- AND MOKAI.H. 
 
 niiilv-iii^' iiist(iii(l of liappiiiess-seekin^' is practical); for tliore 
 is liiil, poor i)roHpfM-t, of finding gold in the iniperfectly ex- 
 ])lor('d caverns of mind; a vein of truth may be discovered, 
 but ahiH ! wlio will buy it? In Edwards' Essay there is but 
 little of th*) inductive method, and yet for near a century it 
 was thought impregnable, and is still clung to by many of 
 the older lilrrti/i with the death-grasp. 
 
 12. All writers who advocate the freedom of the will, or 
 lawlessness of mind, rely almost solely on the testimony of 
 consciousness for i)roof of their position. Their other ar- 
 guments are those deduced from ])remises which need proof 
 as much a^ their conclusions. That is their strongliold, 
 their citadel. I shall therefore lay siege to it, for when it 
 is conquered, the whole country is vanquished; if it is im- 
 pregnable, victory is hopeless. That consciousness is the 
 evidence relied on, Prof. Bledsoe avows in the first para- 
 graph of the last chapter of his book; in which chapter all 
 his argument may be found. President Mahan says (I 
 quote from memory), "when two objects are presented to 
 the mind for choice, we are conscious of power to choose 
 either, and if we choose where there is the stronger motive, 
 we are conscious we had the power to have chosen the 
 other." 
 
 13. Now as the whole matter lies coiled up in the word 
 "consciousness," my readers must e.xcuse me for defininj,' the 
 word — analyzing the arguments so contidently deduced 
 from its testimony, and bespeaking their careful attentiou 
 thereto. Consciousness is the term used by the common 
 consent of writerson mind, to designate the power, faculty, 
 or act of the mind, by which we have kuowledj^e of our own 
 present thoughts, feelings, and volitions, which are the 
 constituent elements of mind. Consciousness gives our 
 mental states as they exist ("/( ^jra'sen/i alone; it goes not 
 into the past except by the aid of memory ; it draws no infei"- 
 ences, discovers iio laws of action, takes no cognizance of 
 things material or mental, except our own minds. As we 
 observe the form, color, and other qualities of objects In* 
 the eye and the observing faculties of the mind, so by 
 consciousness we observe tlie qualities of our thoughts, 
 emotit)ns, and volitions. By these means we get our facts, 
 or premises. We use the same faculties in reasoning from 
 mental, as from material facts. 
 
 li. By this exposition we see that the favorite expression
 
 WIIL AND MOKALS. 45 
 
 of President M;ihan ami otlier freedomist writers, "we are 
 conscious of i)ower to do a specific act," is compound, loose, 
 uii|jliilosopbical, and oi)en to a crowd of fallacies. We are 
 conscious of nothin;^ but a mental st;ite, which may be 
 denominated a feeling' of strength ! There are two kinds, 
 muscular strength, and mental strength. We will consider 
 the former first. To illustrate, a person using the above 
 phrase says he is conscious of power to lift two hundred 
 pounds or to labor six successive hours in the garden. 
 Con>cionsness only gives him the present feeling of 
 strength ; memory (sometimes treacherous) takes him back to 
 some similar feeling that has existed heretofore, they are 
 com})ared and ])vonounced equ.il. When the former feeling 
 existed, he did lift said weights, and performed said labor. 
 Here are consciousness, memory, comparison, and expe- 
 rience, mixed up and labeled "consciousness" by these 
 metaphysicians. 
 
 15. What is denominated a consciousness of power to do 
 a specific act is not a simple "fact of consciousness" which 
 neither needs nor admits of further proof; but is a mere 
 ^/»/>7•<^.^xlo/(, opinio)!, ox jadf)meul, made up by the comj)lex 
 action of a large number of mental faculties. If opinions 
 are admitted as proof, what cannot be proved? This feel- 
 ing of strength is by no means a criterion of muscular or 
 jnental strength; for this feeling is in the mind, and the 
 strength depends on the state of the muscular and nervous 
 systems, which are material objects not cognizable hy 
 consciousness (§ 13), and very variable, but not uniforml}' 
 so with the feeling of strength. In the above exauiple, with 
 a certain feeling of strength, six successive hours' labor 
 Avere i)erformed; the person is debilitated by chills and 
 fever — he recovers so as to feel the same feeling of strength, 
 but a short trial will convince him of the imperfection of 
 the test. Mere mental strength is affected by debility of 
 the nervous system in the same way. 
 
 1(). Further: supi^ose we have one of several objects to 
 clioose; we delilnrate, consider, and at length choose. I 
 humbly jisk by what jninciijle tlie freedomist knows that at 
 the time the choice is made it was not prompted by the 
 strongest motive, or, as I prefer to say, was not caused? 
 He answers, " Because I was conscious of power to have 
 chosen the other; and if the first is the stronger and the 
 second the weaker, and I had chosen the second, I should
 
 4(5 WILL AND MOUALS. 
 
 havo clinsen wliere there was tbe weaker motive, and your 
 cliuii: of ciiUHution would have been broken." 
 
 17. In addition to the above analysis of "consciousness 
 of power," I answer, that the s/roir/lh of motive is Ihc join) 
 ])ro(lt(rl of the stale of mind aud tlw. oljjfcls itiflueuciri<j it at 
 the time of choice. The external object is no criterion. 
 Five dollars may be a great motive to one man and scarce 
 a motive to another, and a strong motive at one time of life, 
 and scarce a motive at another. The strengtli of motive 
 that an object excites depends on the state of mind, which 
 is not a fixed fact; it is changeable as the colors of the 
 kaleidoscope. Suppose you had left considering the one 
 you call the stronger and considered the other but for the 
 shortest period of time. This brief consideration may have 
 •worked such a change of your mental state as to throw the 
 balance of motive on the object taken, before choice ensued. 
 To illustrate: A man is offered ten dollars as a bribe to do 
 a wrong act; he thinks of the appetites it would afford the 
 means of gratifying; they in turn become excited and clam- 
 orous; he is about to accept when he sees his father in the 
 distance; the disgrace he would bring on his family, his 
 own blasted reputation, flash on his mind; the motive has 
 lost its power; he spurns it. 
 
 18. Prof. Bledsoe, alone of all freedomist writers, ac- 
 knowledges that we are not even " conscious of power to 
 act." Prof. Bledsoe's views approximate much nearer to 
 what I humbly conceive to be the truth than those of any 
 other freedomist writer with which I am acquainted. His 
 method of investigation is correct, and he has pursued it 
 much further than his predecessors or contemporaries, but 
 stopped short of what appears to be the whole truth. 
 
 19. Presuming that my motives will not be misconstrued, 
 I will venture the following opinion that he was led to 
 error as thousands have been before. It became thoroughly 
 grounded in his mind that his own or his opponent's opin- 
 ion was correct; he pored over it till he aaw there was no 
 foundation for that of his opjionent. With all the rejoicing 
 of the victor he jumped to the conclusion that his own was 
 true. Had he scanned his own position as closelj' as he did 
 that of his adversary, perhaps he would have seen, what I 
 thiidc will appear in the sequel, that there was no truth in 
 either. 
 
 20. He says (page 22G): ''By consciousness, then, we dis-
 
 WILL AND MORALS. 
 
 47 
 
 cover the existence of an act. We see no cause by which it 
 is produced. If it were produced b}- an act or oi)eration of 
 anythinf^ else, it v/ould be a passive impression, and not an 
 act of the mind itself. The mind would be wholly passive 
 in relation to it, and it would not be an act at all. Whether 
 it is produced by a preceding act of the mind or by the ac- 
 tion of anything else, the mind would be passive as to the 
 effect produced. But we see in the clear and unquestion- 
 able light of consciousness that instead of being passive the 
 mind is active in its volitions; hence it follows by an infer- 
 ence as clear as noonday and as irresistible as fate that the 
 action of the mind is not a produced eflt'ect." 
 
 21. Here he rests his cause. We are conscious the mind 
 acts; this I grant. This is an ad, not an impression; if it 
 were caused, it would be an impression, not an act. As the 
 argument of the whole bouk is converged to a focus at this 
 point, let us examine it with care. This conclusion is what 
 logicians call a non sequl/ar. The minor premise, that vo- 
 lition is an act, is true; the inference, therefore, that it is 
 not caused does not necessarily follow. The state of the 
 mind is always included in every legitimate estimate of mo- 
 tive (§ 17); if, then, this, including its active nature and its 
 excitants in the external world, are a "ground and reason 
 why it acts as it does rather than otherwise," they consti- 
 tute a cause. By what philosophy is this determined or de- 
 duced from the fact that the mind acts? Consciousness 
 gives the ])resent mental states and acts; nothing more, not 
 even the laivs of mental action. The mind is active iu 
 volitions, but is there an absurdity in the idea that 
 motive causes it to act, or to act as it does rather than 
 otherwise V 
 
 22. Prof. Bledsoe says (page 21G): "No one ever im- 
 agined tliat there are no indispensable antecedents to 
 choice, without which it could not take place." These 
 " antecedents " are in part always motives external to the 
 mind, of which consciousness can take no note. By what 
 principle, tlieu, can it be known th:it these objects do not 
 sustain such a relation to tlie mind as to constitute what is 
 termed the strongest motive or a cause of the subsetpient 
 aclion? Can this be done without even an examination of 
 these objects? He acknowledges that there must be an 
 antecedent, but does not examine it. He disposes of it 
 summarily by saying it is not caused because it is active.
 
 48 Wll.r, AND MOI'.AI.H. 
 
 23. WIm'Ii ii bull is llnowii ii^niiiiKt uii elnstic substance 
 it acts; it is active iis well as passive. Is Prof. Bledsoe 
 conscious that wheu the niiiid acts it does not act in ac- 
 cordance with the laws of mind as acted on by these "in- 
 dispensable antecedents," which are out of sight, to occa- 
 sion them to act. ? 
 
 24. The gerujinatiou of seeds affords a good analogy to 
 mental action. The seed acts — that is, there is action 
 among the constituent particles of matter — and the genu 
 shoots forth; there are also some "indispensable antece- 
 dents" to its action. There must be warmth and moisture. 
 So, when a needle is attracted by a loadstone, it (the 
 needle) acts or moves. Suppose the seed and the needle 
 were endowed with consciousness, they might proudly say, 
 "True, we cannot act without antecedents; but then our 
 movement is an act, not an imj)ression; therefore, b}" an 
 ' inference clear as noonday and irresistible as fate ' we 
 are free from law. Your chain of causation is broken; it 
 lias no power over us." I present these physical cases as 
 illustrations, not proofs. 
 
 25. The truth seems to be we are conscious the mind acts; 
 whether it acts in accordance to the laws of mind can only 
 be determined by observing whether there is a similarity or 
 diversit}' of subsequent acts after similar antecedents. In 
 the next chapter an original investigation will be presented, 
 when I think the above views will be clearer than now. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ORIGINAL INVESTIGATION OF THE JIODE OF MENTAL ACTION IN VOLI- 
 TION. 
 
 2G. I have now arrived at the proper point, to present 
 the only legitimate mode of investigating this subject, by 
 ap]ilying the Baconian or inductive method, and the re- 
 sults of such investigation. The question is. Does mind 
 always act in accordance with law, the antecedent being 
 such as to cause the volition ? 
 
 27. These antecedents consist of the mental states and 
 nil the matter that is so related to it as to influence it in the
 
 WILL AND MORALS. ' 49 
 
 nature of motive, at the time of volition (§ 17.) This 
 material motive consists of the objects of choice external to 
 the mind, and all that orf^anized matter, which (so to 
 speak) borders on and surrounds mind, consisting mainly 
 of the nervous system, through which mind acts and is 
 acted ui)on. The quality and condition of this latter so 
 varies the influence of the former, that all calculations that 
 do not take this into tlie account are uncertain. A sum of 
 money is offered a person if he will commit perjury; while 
 he thought of the apj)etites it would gratify, the wants it 
 would suppl}' — he is strongl}' inclined, or even resolved, to 
 accept; but with no variation of anything external to the 
 mind, by its own action he considers the wrong it would do 
 to some one, the danger and disgrace of detection, and 
 the power of the motive is materially changed. So sup- 
 ])Ose the mental state be fixed, and let the bribe be in- 
 creased from a hundred to a thousand dollars, and pos- 
 sibly he might accept. And let both remain fixed, and the 
 nervous system changed (were it possible) from a healthy 
 to a morbid tone, and no sagacity can predict the result. 
 Therefore the jiower to produce volition or strength of 
 motive, is the joint ])roduct or oft'spring of the state of 
 mind, and all external objects influencing it. 
 
 28. Tiift question being whether the antecedents being 
 equal, the voHtions are always tlie same, it can oidy be de- 
 termined by observing the antecedents when equal, and 
 the subsequent volition. With equal antecedents, if one 
 case of diverse volitions can be found, the question is set- 
 tled; the freedoujists are right — the will is free from law. 
 But if no such case can be found, there is no proof of free- 
 dom; but how many cases of equal antecedents an<l conse- 
 quents are necessary to evoke a principle, my readers may 
 judge for themselves. The difliculties of the investigation 
 are now sufficiently ajjparent. As a part of the antecedent 
 is the state of the mind at the time of volition, it is utterly im- 
 possible to ascertain that of another with sufficient ac- 
 curacy for philosophical experiment, by its external num- 
 ifestation. Every one must use himself to experiment with; 
 and it may be fairly doubted, considering the almost in- 
 finite con)i)licati()n of the mental faculties, whether the 
 same antecedents ever occur twice in the same jjersou, 
 much more a sufficient number of times to establish a prin- 
 ciple. But waiving this, in making the observation the
 
 60 ' WILL AND MOR.VLS. 
 
 wliole inriital state must l)e f^ras|)e(l l)y consciousness, and 
 liold firmly in the menjory; for the least j)liiy of fancy may 
 vary tlie result. At tlie same time the wliole field of mat- 
 ter iiifiuencinpf the mind, iiicliidiny the state of the nervous 
 system, must be grasjied by tlie observing faculties, and 
 the volition observed. This process is a pnttern, and must 
 all ill miinilio' be held in memor}'. The process of obser- 
 vation and comi)arison must be carried on till another 
 equivalent state of antecedent is found, and the volition 
 observed. This counts one. This must be repeated times 
 enough to establish a principle. I confess that it appears 
 such an investigation would require a strength and a stretch 
 of the intellect beyond the power of any living man; and 
 yet it appears to be the only direct method, reasoning from 
 cause to efjtect, of settling this vexed question. There is 
 sufiicieut circumstantial evidence in favor of the legality of 
 mental action, io vni^e prima facie evidence. This will be 
 considered in the next chapter, and if it is made out, the 
 case must stand adjudged to the law side, till it is re- 
 butted. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 C1RCUMSTANTI.\L EVIDENCE. 
 
 29. Although the direct investigation of this abstruse 
 subject seems so fruitless, there is some circumstantial 
 evidence which deserves attention. The first I shall 
 consider is the argument from analog^'. It is one of the 
 first elements of Natural Philosophy, and the ground of 
 philosophizing, that every particle of matter moves, or is 
 moved, in conformity to the laws of matter. This is and 
 has been the case throughout the entire realm *of the 
 nuiterial universe, with no exception but miraculous in- 
 terposition. That laxr prevails through one part of the 
 same Creator's dominions, seems to raise an anaU)gy that 
 it does in all departments. But this is far from being con- 
 elusive. Analogy never /)rc»i"(?i; anything. Besides, the nature 
 and operation of mind is so diflerent from that of matter, 
 that the force of the analogy is very much weakened. This is 
 the sum total of President Edward^3' argument of cause and
 
 WILL AND MORALS. 51 
 
 effect. He says, "volition is an effect; every eflfect must 
 have its cause; and that cause must be motive." But ia 
 assuniiiifif, as lie ditl, without an attempt at proof, that 
 volition is an effect, he begged tlie whole question. 
 
 30. We will now array the circumstantial evidence. Since 
 the state of mind a!id external objects influencing it, or 
 motives, are the antecedents to volition, if the law of*causa- 
 tion be abrogated, and they have no causative power, it 
 irresistibly follows that it is impossible to form a judgment 
 or even a probable guess what the volition will be from the 
 antecedents. The action of the will is the merest chance; 
 though motives are piled like 
 
 "Alps on Alps and Pyi-enees beyond," 
 
 choice is just as likely to be in an opposite direction where 
 there is no motive at ail except as an ol)ject of choice, as 
 wliere there is the greatest possible accumulation. All the 
 means we have of judging future conduct is by observing 
 mental and material facts and relying on the principle that 
 like antecedents produce like subsequents. But if this 
 principle fails in mind we can form no idea of future men- 
 tal action in any case. 
 
 31. The infinite mind of Deity might knoiv how mind 
 would act, for by the hypothesis of infinity, the past, the 
 l)resent, and the future are all present, and that indepen- 
 dent of the procuring cause of the event. But ive who must 
 climb to future events on the ladder of causation, will at 
 once come to the ground if causation fails. Now, is this 
 true in mental action ? It is either true in whole, or true 
 in part, or not true at all. Common observation teaches 
 that it is not true in whole. We know that " human nature" 
 is a matter of stud^', or science to some extent. Those who 
 are shrewd, knowing the facts intluenciiig the mind, can 
 tell with almost prophetic certainty how a peison or a com- 
 munity will act. And the more accurately they know the 
 external circumstances, and the disposition, or mental state 
 of tiie person, the g'reater is their certainty. And further, 
 when men fail, they always attribute it to a mistake or 
 ignorance of some inlluence or disposition, and not to a 
 failure of the law of causation. These facts prove, being 
 inconsistent with any other hypothesis, that the law of cau- 
 sation prevails to some extent, but with all these facts it is
 
 52 WILL ANO MORALS. 
 
 possihlt; tlmt witliin a liinitecl spliore tlie will is free, and its 
 action a niattcr of clumee. But I profess the iiljove facts 
 pn^sent a Imlwark ol prima facie evidence wliicli cannot be 
 rebutted by any argmuent I liave tliougbt of or seen. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 32. Eeader, my task (and youis if you have followed me 
 tlirougb) is done. I migbt bave extended and expanded 
 this essjiy to a much greater bulk with even less labor. 
 But I wished to study all the brevity consistent with per- 
 s])icuity. When I began I had no creed to support; now 
 I have done I have no inferences to draw*. I endeavored to 
 divest myself of all predilections and preconceptions, and 
 address myself to " nature as the humble interpreter 
 thereof." I have something to say with regard to the bear- 
 ings of this essay on ethics, or theoretical and practical 
 morality; but I think best to withhold it for the present 
 till my thoughts are more mature and an opportunity shall 
 be presented which premises good. With entire unconcern 
 this essay is submitted to a candid public; if it is error, let 
 it i^erish; if truth, it will prevail. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 RELATIONS OF THIS ESSAY TO FATALISM AND EXERTION. 
 
 33. The doctrine of the foregoing essay is often supposed 
 to be connected with a paral3"ziiig, ruinous fatalism. Indo- 
 lence and immorality argue, that if all phenomena, both 
 physical and mental, are bound up in the iron chain of cau- 
 sation, and the first part actually transpired, effort on my 
 j)art is useless, for things will have their course. However 
 groundless this maybe, there is a sufficient plausibility in it 
 to deserve a careful consideration. 
 
 34. Modern metaphysicians have agreed in dividing the 
 mind into three great departments; the intellect, the sen- 
 sibility, and the will; and if they had not, the reader could, 
 for his own convenience. The intellect is the perceiving, 
 knowing department; the sensil)ility, the department of 
 emotions and desires ; the will, the department of volition.
 
 WILL AND MOIiALS. 53 
 
 Now, in all classes of exertion to acquire a supposed good, 
 tbo following process must take place: First, the intellect 
 sees a supposed good, the desire is awakened to obtain it, 
 the will puts forth volitions, and a thousand muscles stand, 
 like dumb slaves about a prince, to put its mandates in exe- 
 cution. Then comes the feeling of exertion or fatigue, 
 which is nothing more than a feeling of the mind conse- 
 quent on a state of the muscles, caused by their vigorous 
 contraction and relaxation. Now, as the action of the mus- 
 cles is always after volition, and the question between free- 
 domists a)id others is whether the relation between the 
 sensibility and the will be one of law or chance, it will be 
 seen, in either case, that in obtaining the desired good, ex- 
 ertion and fatigue is equally a concomitant. Mere njental 
 exertion and fatigue, or exertion of will, are of the same na- 
 ture; its fatigue i)eing caused by the matter of the nervous 
 system. To make exertion without perceiving what it is 
 for, is to injmerse man in darkness; and if we can make ex- 
 ertion without willing to do so, " we might as well not have 
 a will." As exertion and fatigue are the only unpleasant 
 l^arts of the process intervening between us and a desired 
 object, the mind is occupied by these unpleasant ])arts, 
 and the other acts of the mind are overlooked; hence the 
 error. If we desire the accomi)lishment of anything, it 
 will be done if we make the necessary exertion (for exertion 
 cannot take place without the other parts of the mental 
 process). And as before observed, that exertion and fatigue 
 are the same concomitants of the acquisition, whether the 
 will act legally or not; and as exertion and fatigue come 
 after volition, the only dillerence is this: that if the object 
 be self-improvement by awakening the mind, by thought, 
 or reading, the object when obtained becomes in turn a 
 motive. Now if the will is goveined by causation it must 
 act, and thus successive rounds take place; but if the will is 
 free tl>e whole may stop with the first object. So if the 
 will be free from law, the preacher or lecturer may i)ly his 
 most powerful arguments with all the talents of an an^'el, 
 literally inflaming the emotive part of the mind; but it is 
 all to no purpose; the will is no more likely to act than if 
 no motive were before it. But if Jaw govern the will, like 
 seed sown on well-prepared soil, it )niis( produce its legiti- 
 mate ettects, unless counteracted by an intervening line of 
 causation. Some say, " I do as I please, therefore I am
 
 54 Wir,L ANI> MOUALS. 
 
 free." Wlieii we loill, or ad, iiotwitlistaiKling tliere are 
 Btronf? motives to the contrary, we alwiiys do on the whole 
 ns wo please. This phrase means that we are not inter- 
 rupted by any tliinjjf ah cxlra, nothinfif more. 
 
 35. The vulgar frecpiently excuse themselves, when re- 
 proved for doin<j^ what they know is wroiifj, hy sayinj^ it was 
 so fated. If yon have done the deed, you are, like Zeno's 
 slave, fated to receive the consequent punishment; which if 
 you are wise you will recollect as a motive to prevent doing 
 the like again. If you have not done the deed, you will so 
 consider the reproof that it will become a motive, to save you 
 from the fated deed and fated punishment; " but fools pass 
 on and are punished." 
 
 3G. I do not conceive that this question affects the theo- 
 logical one of predestination at all; for if Deity be infinite 
 in knowledge He must know- the beginning, middle, and 
 end of all thi^igs equally, whether law or chance reign; and 
 I have not acumen enough to separate between foreknowl- 
 edge and predestination, that is, to see how one can exist 
 and the other not. But whether God does or does not 
 know and i<«edestinate our end, makes not a particle of dif- 
 ference; for our state at every successive step and move- 
 ment to all eternity would be known and certain if there was 
 a being who had sagacity enough to foresee them, whether 
 law or chance reign. But our inquiries must relate to 
 ^human minds and those things and events that surround 
 them, and not to those of a higher grade. It is a question 
 of fact; and philosophy here, as ever, coincides with com- 
 mon sense ; if we desire any object, nothing intervenes 
 that need trouble us, but the exertion requisite to its ob- 
 tention; if we prefer our ease, we can have it. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ORIGINAL SUGGESTION CONSIDERED. 
 
 37. The foregoing essay has been read in manuscript by 
 a gentleman who sustains a high reputation as a teacher of 
 mental science, and has for years presided over a popular 
 western college. He has politely furnished me with an ab- 
 stract of his views of the doctrine advanced. He thinks
 
 WILL AND MORALS. 55 
 
 the qiiestiou correctly stated, und successfully overthrown 
 as stated by freedoniists; still he thinks the doctiine of the 
 freedoiiiist can be sustained. His statement is, that " we 
 are so made that, at each instant up to the final act of choice 
 we cannot but assume thsit we are free to choose either the 
 one or the other. It is rather an original suggestion than 
 a consciousness. The mind always does believe, and must 
 believe, itself adequate, all existing causation to the con- 
 trary notwithstanding, to choose either the one or the other. 
 My argument for the freedom of the will is, that such an 
 original suggestion never deceives; that what mankind are 
 so made as necessarily to think true, and to act on as true, 
 is true." 
 
 38, No other definition is given to the term " original 
 suggestion " than can be gathered from the above state- 
 ment, Mr. Upham says the term is used by Reed, Stuart, 
 and others, to express the simple fact " that the mind by 
 its own activity and vigor, gives rise to certain thoughts," 
 and " by means of this we have a knowledge of certain ele- 
 mentary notions, such as the abstract conception of exist- 
 ence, mind, self-existence, or self, personal identity, suc- 
 cession, duration, space, unity, number, power, right, 
 •wrong, and some others. All men possess these notions; 
 all understand them." 
 
 89. That there is a power of the mind to give us these 
 notions (by whatever name you call it) may be admitted; 
 but it is an open question whether the freedom of the will 
 from the law of causation is an original or an artificial sug- 
 gestion. It is conceded that all human beings either have, 
 or all have not this faculty; if they have it, some will have 
 it in greater perfection than others. All writers on n)ind 
 agree that this faculty suggests the same truths to all minds 
 not of too low a grade for its distinct action; certainly there 
 is no contra(li(!tion. If it gives one man self-existence, it 
 does all men; if it gives one man duration, space, anil their 
 infinity, it does all men. In matters of opinion, reasoning, 
 and judgment, men dill'er, on account of the complexity of 
 the mental processes by which these states of mind are 
 elaborated. But notions of suggestion, coming from the 
 fountain of the mind, or being the result of a simple action 
 of a simple power or faculty of the mind, must be true, or 
 all reasonings and knowledge are at an end; for the prem- 
 ises of all reasonings are obtained in this way, as well as
 
 5G WILL AND MOHALS. 
 
 inference itself. If the primary action of the mental facul- 
 ties is to be questioned, pray what is tlie criterion of truth? 
 Aie we to refer to an{,'els? Now let us try this idea of 
 causeless volition l)y some of the above tests. 
 
 40. Is it a primary idea, thrown out b}- the inherent en- 
 erpfy of all minds suffi(!iently developed ? If so it would be 
 the same in all nien. So far from this, men are, and always 
 have been, nearly equally divided on the question. In 1848, 
 American missionaries, in Asia Minor, wrote that the Ma- 
 hometan inhabitants believed in falalit}' and " ach'd on it an 
 true;" that wheti the cholera was sweeping off appalling 
 numbers, they would not go to the country from the over- 
 crowded city, or make any exertion to avert any evil, on 
 the ground of fatality. I suppose that all the followers of 
 Mahomet, about one half as many as those of Christ, be- 
 lieve in the causation of volition, "and act on it as true," 
 If it be said that " these were uncultivated minds," I an- 
 swer, that Edw-ards, Emmons, and a large and respectable 
 religious denomination have believed, and still believe, in 
 it. If our friends would have us believe that the mind 
 originally suggests that volition is not caused, it devolves 
 on them to show how so man}' came b}' an opposite idea, or 
 belief. In the mean time we will undertake to account for 
 the idea of freedom otherwise than by suggestion. 
 
 41. The mass of mankind have not, even in our own 
 country, thought of the subject enough to have a distinct 
 idea of the question at issue. The uncertainty as to how 
 the mind will be determined — the power of deliberation — 
 and the freedom from restraint or constraint, have led many 
 to suppose thej' were free; indeed, this is the very idea of 
 freedom with many. But all of this is perfectly consistent 
 with the idea of causation in volition. The iron jacket sits 
 as easily on our miml as the vast weight of the atmosphere 
 on our hf^nils. Thus we apprehend that multitudes adojjt 
 the sentiment of freedom from mere mfidal crndi'y. Ma- 
 hometans adopt the op|)osite idea from the same cause; the 
 opinions of both are equally worthless, except it be to show 
 tliat original suggpstion is silent on the subject. 
 
 42. Tlnit part of freedomists which cannot plead crudity, 
 we venture to presume, have some favorite doctrine of the- 
 ology or morals, which they suppose inconsistent with 
 caused volition. Their cherished cloctrine is not doubted, 
 so tliLV. unconsciously, seek for arguments against caused 
 volition.
 
 WILL AND MORALS. 57 
 
 43. A friend of the writer, of great metaphysical acumen^ 
 after reailing' the forgoing essay, acknowledged that causa- 
 tion prevailed in all volitions e.xcept those constituting 
 moral acts, or actions right or wrong. His argument was 
 about this: Men are under moral obligation to do and re- 
 frain from certain acts; this obligation is often violated; if 
 volition is caused, they could md have done otherwise (if 
 they had tried), and what men cannot do they are under no 
 obligation to do. To say they could not have done other- 
 wise if they had tried, is absurd. Jilflort and volition al- 
 ways coincide, excejjt constrained by some force ab extra. 
 I will not dissect this argunient further now, but state it 
 here because what is to follow will apply to il as well as to 
 the foregoing argument. 
 
 44. It it can be shown that the hypothesis of freedom if? 
 inconsistent with known and acknowledged facts or princi- 
 ples, or involves absurdity, it must be given up. Chance 
 and contingence are words used in two senses. First when 
 the causes of phenomena are so complicated or hidden 
 that they cannot be traced. Thus we say it is a chance if 
 it rains; when dice are shaken and thrown, it is a chance 
 how they will fall; when a coin is thrown up with a whirl- 
 ing motion, it is contingent which side up it will fall. But 
 no one supposes that the law of causatitjn fails in any of 
 these cases. Second, these words are#ipplied to describe 
 uncaused phenomena; volitions on the hypothesis of free- 
 dom are the only examples of these. 
 
 45. Even these events (if freedomistsare right) areequally 
 certain as any event whatever, only our means of ascertain- 
 ing that certainty do not exist. But God, if He be omnis- 
 cient, and ])erliaps inferior beings, can see wljat, or how, 
 these absolutely contingent phenomena will be, which 
 proves them to be certain in aji absolute sense. All that is 
 meant by the tirst delinition is obscurity of causes; by the 
 second, absence of causes. 
 
 4G. Now within the sphere of freedom, that is, with re- 
 gard to those objects of which ti)e mind is supposed to be 
 free to choose either, it is a matter of absolute contingence 
 which will be taknn; fur the very hypothesis of freedom is 
 uncaused volition; and all the necessary occasions of choice 
 are a choosing subject, and an object of choice. 
 
 47. All the writers on mind agree that all the actions of 
 the intellect and sensibility are governed by causation; 
 4
 
 58 W 11,1, AN b MOHALH. 
 
 therefore a p^iven stiite of mind and ^iven external objects 
 will i)ro(luce always the same excitation of intellect and 
 sensibility. 
 
 48. Now if mind is self-determined, or self-acting, regard- 
 less of causation, it is one of two tilings — self-determination 
 of person, or self-deterniination of will. If it l)e self-deter- 
 mination of person, as the person includes both the intellect 
 and sensibility, and as their excitation are the only immedi- 
 ate motives to tlie will, if it is determined according to the 
 paramount excitation of them, it is according to causation. 
 But if the person wills contrary to his jjaramount inclina- 
 tion, it is absurd. But if the will is self-determined, then 
 the will leads the person by the nose, and the will is led 
 by this little inane personage called chance, who struts in 
 Lis "brief hour of authority," and pays not the slightest 
 regard to the wishes, desires, or even the moral sense of 
 the ])erson. 
 
 49. On the hypothesis of freedom, within the sphere of 
 freedom, there can be no means oi jncJguug or guessing what 
 V(ditions will be; nor from past volitions, what the disposi- 
 tion of mind ivas. All means are swept away, and there 
 can be no such thing as habitude or character; each voli- 
 tion is individual, isolated, uncaused, not alTected by ante- 
 cedents. How then does one action afiord any clue to what 
 the next action wil^be? It is not easy to see how, on the 
 hypothesis of freedom, such a thing as habitude or char- 
 acter can exist. By the hypothesis, between the volitions 
 and the mental excitations, either of the sensibilit}' or in- 
 tellect, which alone primarily influence the will as motive, 
 there is a gulf as impassable as that between Dives and 
 Lazarus. I confess I cannot see how one act can influence 
 ,-a succeeding one, to be morally good or bad, except that 
 the lirst act and the mental excitation accompanying it, and 
 .causing it (if it is caused), by a law of our nature, produce 
 .a habitude of the thoughts and feelings antecedent to the 
 subsequent act. But how can this be, since by the hypoth- 
 esis of freedom the act is uncaused, totally isolated from all 
 antecedent motives, and absolutely contingent? How then 
 can character or habitude good or bad exist? Yet they do 
 exist. 
 
 50. It is equally difficult to see what is gained to the 
 cause of morals by cutting off all connection between the 
 volitions and the moral feelings; if the moral act be caused,
 
 WILL AND MORALS. 59 
 
 it is nn outward expression of tlie internal man; if not, it is 
 an illegitimate intruder into the wtnld, both dumb and 
 blind, and can neitl>er tell the moral feelings, thoughts, 
 intentions, or succeeding acts. To be subject to law, and 
 have one's moral acts the sport of fancy, would seem hard, 
 but to be controlled by chance is worse; for fancy has some 
 regard to law, chance none. 
 
 51. If they be caused, the pain of punishment adds an- 
 other motive to those, the office of which is to cause the 
 l^erson to do right. But if the}' are uncaused, their pilnish- 
 ment is wanton vengeance, in every ])ossible respect. Men 
 are led into error by reasoning that it is unjust to punish a 
 man for doing what he could not help doing if he tried. 
 Here are two errors; first, that punishment is a vengeance 
 and a hardship to the guilty; it is for llie'tr good, as well as 
 for the good of others. Second, that one ever really tries 
 contrary to causation or volition. 
 
 52. Should it be said, " if you know a man's main object, 
 you may foresee the particular volition he will put forth in 
 its execution," I answer, most freedomists allow that when 
 a man's main purpose is formed, all minor volitions iu exe- 
 cution thereof are caused; as when I set out to walk to a 
 town five miles distant, the several volitions which move 
 my legs are considered necessary. One's " main object " is 
 changed but a few times in one's life; and it matters but 
 little whether these volitions are caused or uncaused, if they 
 ai'e the only uncaused ones. I can see no other force to 
 the above quoted reasoning, than to narrow the sphere of 
 freedom, but when you come to that sjdiere (l)y which term 
 I include all those volitions which the mind is supposed to 
 be free to uiake either) the above reasoning must apply. It 
 is not my province to define that sphere, since I believe in 
 none; and freedomists themselves differ as to what it in- 
 cludes, all agreeing that some volitions are caused. I am 
 content if I so frame my argument that it will apply to all 
 that are included, be they more or less. 
 
 53. If it be said that " the preceding act, or the mental 
 excitation accompanying it, exert an influence on a succeed- 
 ing one, though not a causative one," I answer, it does not 
 a])pear how antecedents can, "in whole or in part, be a 
 ground or reason why a volition is, rather than not, or why 
 it is as it is, rather than otherwise," and not cause it. It 
 should be borne iu mind that we have no measure of mo-
 
 GO \VU,I- AM) MOKALS. 
 
 live 118 .'111 exlcniiil object, and it nifitters not whetlier it iu- 
 flnciK-e llie will much or little; if it affect tlie will at all it 
 must be a causative effectioii, or a contingent effection. lu 
 tlie latter case, with given antecedents, the volition is con- 
 tingent, to which all the forementioned appurtenances at- 
 tach. 
 
 PAPvT II. 
 
 REVIEW OF EDWARDS ON THE WILL. 
 
 CONSISTING OF A CANDID STATEMENT OF HIS SEVERAL POSITIONS 
 AND arguments; AND THEIR CAREFUL EXAMINATION. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 54. Part first is merely an attempt to define all the terms 
 of uncertain import, used in the following discussion. In 
 Section first the will is defined to be "tJui/ by ichich the 
 mind chooses any thing: the faculty of the will is that 
 faculty, or power, or principle of the mind, by which it is 
 cai)able of choosing:" this is variously ilustrated, and some 
 criticisms made on some observations of John Locke on 
 the subject. 
 
 55. Section second consists of an iuquiiy as to "what 
 determines the will.'' He says, "it is thai mofive rvhich, as 
 it filaiids in Ike vifib of the mind, is the strongest, that dder- 
 mini's the icill," I suppose he means, at tlie time of volition. 
 He then goes on to explain what he means by motive; 
 which is "the whole of that which moves, excites, or invites 
 the mind to volition, whether that be one thing singly, or 
 many things conjointly." In further elucidating the matter 
 he says, "a motive has some sort and degree of tendency, 
 or advantage to move or excite the will previous to the 
 effect, or to the act of will excited. This previous tenden- 
 cy is what I call the strength of motive." Here we have 
 the two distinct measures of the strength of motive, more
 
 WILL AND MORALS. 61 
 
 variant than avoirdnjiois and troy weight, and wine 
 measure ! Tlie first example is another example of prlilio 
 pi'iiicipii, or begging the question. If the will is moved, as 
 he contends, by an antecedent cause, and its action necessi- 
 tated, then that which determines, or is the cause of tlie 
 will's action, is the strongest or greatest. But if the will 
 is free, and acts spontaneously and contingently, then the 
 motive which is before the mind and is the occa.^ion of its 
 acts may not be the strongest or greatest. The president's 
 assertion, that tlie former is true, though high authority, 
 will hardly be taken in this investigating age, in lieu of all 
 evidence of the fact. 
 
 5G. The second proposition is clearly erroneous, as it will 
 appear hereafter. But the whole difficulty consists in the 
 absurd attenipt to a))ply a measure to motive, considered 
 as by him, as something external lo the mind, that "moves, 
 excites, or invites the mind to volition." In the first pro- 
 position he says, "that motive is the strongest which, as it 
 stands in the view of the mind, determines the will." Sup- 
 pose this diclt(m is true, what does it avail as a measure of 
 the strength of motive, when there is no probability, and 
 scarce a possibility, of its ever standing in the same view of 
 the mind a second time? Mind is ever active, and the 
 slightest variation of the excitement of any of the faculties, 
 when it views the motive, must change the strength of the 
 motive. And further if the same motive should ever a 
 second time "stand in the same view of the mind," he 
 has ofifered no evidence that volition would be the same: if 
 the doctrine of the freedomist is true, there is no probability 
 that it would. His second measure of the strength of mo- 
 tive is, its ])revious tendency to excite or move the will? A 
 bottle of rum may have a previous tendency to excite a man 
 whose appetite is morbid and excited, to commit theft; but 
 a moment's rcjh'i-liou may so bring before his mind the 
 Khame and disgrace he is bringing ou his famil}', as to 
 counteract tbe "previous tendency." If he had added to 
 his previous tenilenc}', with a given view, state, or excite- 
 ment of mind, it would have been correct; but of what 
 avail? Motive, properly speaking, can only be measured by 
 estimating both the mental excitement, and all external 
 matter influencing it, at the time of admeasurement. 
 
 57. Section "id contains a definition of ])hiloso))hical or 
 metaphysical necessity; which is "nothing dilVerent from
 
 G2 Wll.r, AM) MOKALS. 
 
 tlieir cortiiinty. Not certiiinty of Icnowlcd^'f!, but tlie cer- 
 iiiiiity of tilings llicnisolvoH, wliieli i» the fouiidfitioii of tlie 
 Cfiliiiiity of tlie kiiowled^'C of tliem, or tliiit wherein lies the 
 pirouiid of tlie infallibility of the proposition thiit {itKrms 
 them." And aj^ain, "philosophical necessity is really lioth- 
 iu<^ else than the full and fixed conue(;tion between the 
 tliinp^s signified by the subject and in'edicute of a proposi- 
 tion." 
 
 58. In Section 4th, the distinction between natural and 
 moral necessity is said to be "not so much in the connec- 
 tion as the terms connected," In natural necessity the 
 terms are material, in moral, the terms are moral or rather 
 vir/(ip]i)/xical. These definitions are variously ex])lained and 
 illustrated, and the difference between their philosophical 
 and ))opular use pointed out. "Would it not conilui-e to 
 clearness to say material and mental necessity, as this is 
 the "idea"? 
 
 59. Section 5th contains a definition of liberty and moral 
 agency. The popular sense of libertj^ is, the freedom from 
 7'(^-straint or ct)i(-stiaint from doing or acting as we please 
 or will. But tlie lil)erty which "Arminians advocate and 
 Ciilvinists deny is a self-determining power of the will by 
 which it determines its own volitions; without being affected 
 b}' any cause out of itself, or prior to its own acts speci- 
 fied. Also indifference must belong to it, or that the mind 
 previous to the act of volition be in eqn'dihrio. Absolute 
 contingence also belongs to it" (audi may add that this 
 is all the absolute contingence in the universe, and if the 
 will is not thus free, there is no absolute contingence). 
 Leiiving the subject of the will, and entering the field of 
 ethics, some good remarks as to moral agents, and moral 
 character, close the section. 
 
 GO. Having closed the definitions in part first, in )iart 
 second he argues the case. In Section 1st, he examines 
 what he calls the "Arminian nt)tion of liberty of will, con- 
 sisting of the will's self-determining power." He employs 
 the ad abmirdnm argument, by saying that if the will, or, as 
 he prefers it, the agent or person willing, determines its or 
 his own acts, it must be by a previous act of will, and that 
 previous act b^' another preceding act, and so on ad injini- 
 (am, or to the first act in the series, which must be, he 
 says, caused by something else. 
 
 Gl. I confess I am not able to see the force of this argu-
 
 WILL AND MORALS. G3 
 
 ment. I suppose tlie "Aiminian uotion" to be, tbat Ihe 
 will, or i)eison, determines its own acts, by its own inlier- 
 ent enerjjiy or action, aside from external or even internal 
 influence in tlie natme of motive, u-Jicii il nets and in (he 
 ad of acting. Is there anything inconsistent or absurd in 
 the idea? It is a question of fact, and sliould be treated 
 as such b}' examinin"- the evidence in the case. To say that 
 it is, or must be determined b}^ a preceding act is simply to 
 beg the question; and further when he comes to the first 
 act in the series, it is mere assum|)tion to say it is not a 
 free act. He seems to have it fixed in his mind that voli- 
 tion must have a cause. The hypothesis of freedom is that 
 it^s not (so to speak) enticed b}' soifiething before it, to 
 cause it, in the shape of motive; nor driven by something 
 (a previous act), with whip in hand behind it; the whole 
 begins and euds in assumptions and proves nothing. 
 
 62. Section 2d contains a consideration of some evasions 
 of the argument of Section 1st. "When the foregoing com- 
 ment on Section 1st was written, I had not read Section 2d, 
 nor had I any ideii of what it contained. But on its careful 
 jierusal I do not see that anything can be said to throw 
 light on the subject, nor do I see cause to change what has 
 been written on Section 1st. 
 
 63. Section ;5d purjiorts to be an inquiry '• whether any 
 event whatever, and volition in particular, can come to 
 pass without a cause."' He defines cause "to signify any 
 antecedent, either natural or moral, i)ositive or negative, 
 on whioli an}' event, either a thing or the manner and cir- 
 cumstances of a thing, so depend that it is the ground and 
 reason, either in whole or in part, why it is rather than not, 
 or why it is as it is rather than otherwise." He then says, 
 "Having thus explained what I mean by cause, I assert 
 that nothing ever comes to i)ass without a cause. And this 
 dictate of common sense respects substances and modes or 
 things and the manner and circumstance of things." He 
 then goes on to being and mode of b^ing of bndics as uni- 
 versally referred to cause. I will (juote one passage, not 
 that it contains a pertinent argument, but on account of its 
 intrinsic worth : 
 
 61. " If once it should be allowed that things m:iy come 
 to pass without a cause, we should not only have no pro«)f of 
 the being of a God, but we shoidd be without evidence of 
 the existence of anything whatever but our own immediate
 
 C4 WIIJ, AND MOKALS. 
 
 ideas and fonsoiousne.s.s; for we liave no way of proviiifr 
 nnytliiii^' cl><f- l>"t I'V ar^uinf( from efl'ect to cause; from the 
 ideas imiiiediately in vic^w we ar<,'ue otlier tiling's not, imme- 
 diately in view; from sensations now in the mind we arf,'ue 
 things witluml as tlie causes of these sensations; we ar^^^ue 
 the past existence of ourselves or anything else hj memory 
 only as we argue that the ideas which are now in our minds 
 are the consequences of past ideas and sensations; we im- 
 luediatel}' jierceive nothing else but the ideas that are this 
 moment extant in our minds; we perceive or know other 
 tilings onlj' by means of these, as necessarily connected 
 ■with others and dependent on them; but if things may be 
 Avithout causes, all this necessary connection and depend- 
 ence is dissolved, and so all means of our knowledge is 
 gone." This is a magnificent and beautiful ])assage, but 
 does not reach the point. It may be unfortunate to " have 
 no proof of the being of a God," but still it is difficult to 
 see liow this can be wrought into an argument that mind 
 does not so act. It seems unnecessary to examine the as- 
 sumptions of this section further. 
 
 65. Section 4th inquires whether volition can arise with- 
 out a cause, through the activity of the nature of the soul. 
 The mere activity of the soul neither proves nor disproves 
 that the action of that activity is or is not in accordance 
 •with the law of causation. Animals and plants are to some 
 extent active in their nature; but I suppose that all ac- 
 knowledge that their movements are all caused. The issue 
 is, are all the particles (so to speak) or constituent elements 
 of the substance or being of the soul in the process of voli- 
 tion in conformity to the law of causation? The question 
 is one of fact, and all this declamation about the law of 
 cause and efiect in matter, or even in the emotive or intel- 
 lectual part of our nature, is not evidence pertinent to the 
 issue. 
 
 GG. It is not easy to see the force of the ad ahtiurdum ar- 
 gument in the fifth jiaragraph which he attempts to father 
 on his opponents. It is of a similar nature to his argument 
 in reference to a self-determining power of the will. In the 
 present case the hypothesis is that the soul chooses or acts 
 freelv, or in violation of the law of causation, as it exists 
 from the presence of motive, through the inherent activity 
 of the soul, luJien it chooses, or in the act of volition. Now, 
 to undertake to prove this untrue by saying that if the will
 
 WILL AND MOIULS. 65 
 
 act freely it must be l\v a previous act of choice, is notbing- 
 more than an assumption. I mean no tlisres]>e(;t, or tbat 
 the author meant to befog hin)self or bis readers, but it 
 seems that such is the case. He says, " be cannot conceive 
 what is meant b}- the soul's clioosing b}' its own activity, 
 exce])t that God has given power to the soul, sometimes, 
 at least, to excite volitions at pleasure or according as it 
 chooses; and this certainly supposes in all cases a choice 
 precediiig all volitions which are thus caused." I feai- I 
 shall weary the reader by repetitions; but this does seem to 
 be an evasion of the true issue as stated above. 
 
 G7. In Section 5th, his remarks on Dr. Whitbey's idea of 
 liberty as a power of acting from ourselves, or doing what 
 we will, are very just; but as that idea is not the (rue idea, 
 but little is gained or lost to either cause by its refutation. 
 
 08. Section Gth contains a consideration of the idea of 
 choosing things which are indift'erent. The ])osition of Dr. 
 Whitbey is fully met and refuted. The position taken by 
 Dr Wliitbey is this: "When two things are presented to the 
 mind whicli in the view of the mind have equal claims to 
 choice, if one be chosen it proves liberty of will. It is a 
 sufficrient answer to this, that, although the motive in each 
 object is equal, yet in the moment of, and in the act of 
 choice, the motive to choose one is superadded to the mo- 
 tive in the object. It is scarcel}' necessary to observe here 
 that this overthrowing of these false issues does not affect 
 the true issue. 
 
 (!8. Section 7th is a further consideration of the liberty 
 of will consisting in indilTerence. I cannot but protest 
 here that I am tired of commenting on arguments which, 
 on both sides, are fcjundcd on assum[)tions instead of facts. 
 Mucdi is said and some line-spun arguments deduced, but 
 no headway n)ade. 
 
 Gl). I protest further, that in writing this review I have 
 no ambition to vanquish the writer reviewed. It is no great 
 honor to cut off a dead lion's head, should the undertaking 
 ))rove successful. It would be much n)ore congenial to my 
 feelings, avoiding controver.sy, to rest the cause with pre- 
 senting my own views; but I judged that the reputation of 
 President Edwards' work has beeii, and still is, such as to 
 demand a review from any one who attempts a complete 
 ex])osition of the subject. As I advocate substantially the 
 same conclusions as President Edwards, it mav seem un-
 
 66 WII.I. AM' M(JKAI,H. 
 
 iKM-('ssiiry to write, and Jin jiiiotnaly to review the writer. A 
 ])resitl()iit of one of our colle^'en reniiirked to iiie that be 
 •' llion^'lit Edwards would no lon«,fer satisfy tlie deiuands of 
 a tliinkin*; ii{?e." Altl)ou*,di I tliiiik liis conclusions true, 
 jet I think he has loosely and bun^lirigly proved them, if 
 at all; for these and other reasons I write a review. 
 
 70. So, with again bespeaking the reader's patience, I 
 will again to my task. The idea he is combating, as far as 
 I can translate it, is this: that when the iniud in in ffjui- 
 lihrio, or ])erfectly indilTerent which of two objects to choose, 
 and l)y the exertion of the inherent })owers of tlie will, aside 
 fiom all influence on it in the nature of motive, one is 
 chosen, this is a free, uncaused act. His (that is, Edwards') 
 argument is, that to constitute it a free act the mind must 
 be in eqinhhrio, not oidy before, but in the act of choice, 
 which he correctly says is absurd! 
 
 71. Section 8th is a consideriition of liberty of will, as 
 op]iosed to all necessitj'. All that need be said on this 
 point is that the whole point in controversy is assumed by 
 the argument that all things in general, and volition in par- 
 ticular, are caused. 
 
 72. Sections 9th and lOtli are considerations of God's 
 prescience. The argument, Avhich is elaborated at great 
 length, seems in substance to be this: God foreknows all 
 the future phenomena of the universe; this foreknowledge 
 renders or proves them certain and necessary. No intellect 
 can foreknow except by means of the chain of causes which 
 precede the event. Even if they were not immediately pre- 
 ceded 1)3' causes, they are so necessarily connected with 
 God's prescience as to be inconsistent with the scheme of 
 liberty, which is to be without all necessity. 
 
 73. There are several errors in this argument which ren- 
 der it WiU'thless. The firist error we will notice is that no 
 intelle(;t can foresee future events except by means of the 
 antecedent causes. True, man cannot; but it is a strange 
 proceeding to measure God's mind by mati's. This fore- 
 knowledge proves them certain and necessary (in the abso- 
 lute sense of the term). And further; even if there is no 
 being to foreknow future events, still every ]ihenomeiia 
 that ever will take place in the future progress of time will 
 take place in a cerlnin time and manner, and any being 
 could foresee it who had (lir leqaisile sof/dcilij or faculty; 
 and this would be true even if the universe were jumbled
 
 WILL AND MURALS. G7 
 
 to chaos, and even the law of causation annihilated. I 
 shall not prove this ])roposition, for it is self-evident. Ou 
 close inspection it will be found to be but a mere truism; 
 the whole is contained in tlie h^'potbeticul part that certain 
 events " will take ])lace in the future;" for if tbey w'ill take 
 phice the}^ will take place in a certain njanner, and pre- 
 science can foresee tliem. But all tins does not touch the 
 issue of lil)ert3' and necessity. That issue is, have volitions 
 immediate antece^lcnt causes? Prescience is perfectly con- 
 sistent with the affirmative or negative of this question. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 74. Section 1st is a consideration of the idea that moral 
 character can attach to no action which is not free. He 
 argues that the virtuousness or viciousness consists, not in 
 the caiii^c., but in the nalarc. of the act. He says, " the 
 thinj^' which makes sin hateful is that by which it deserves 
 puiiisliMient, which is but the expression of hatred;" and 
 " that wliich renders virtue lovely is the same with that, on 
 account of which it is tit to receive praise and reward, which 
 are but the expression of esteeuj and love." I will but 
 simply remark that I do not think punishment an expres- 
 sion of hatred, but a means of exciting in the mind of the 
 delinquent a motive to do right, and thereby using the 
 only means of remedying his deficient moral state. "While 
 milder means will effect the end, punishment proper, or 
 such as is painful to the person punished, should not be I'e- 
 sorted to.. "Expressing hatred" as such, does no good 
 either to the community or individual, and if moral acts are 
 necessitated by a long ciiaiu of causes extending fur back 
 of the person, it is hard to sjiy he deserves such ))unish- 
 inent as is painful to him, aside from the necessary protec- 
 tion of society and his own reformation. I suppose pun- 
 ishment is mainly for the gootl of the person punished. He 
 has defective moral faculties. The process of enlargement 
 is painful, but like a UKin with a hare-lip, this process of 
 amendment is for his good. I must close with these naked 
 statements; it is not the place for a treatise on ethics.
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AN INQUIRY INI'O THE NATURE OF THE MORAL FACULTIES. 
 
 1. A knowledge of the nature, autliority, and lep[itiniate 
 action of the moral faculties must be of the first importance 
 to an organized society. These faculties, more than any 
 other, fit man for the social state. Fully impressed with 
 the responsibility of the task, it is undertaken with trem- 
 bling solicitude. In addition to the intrinsic difficulty of the 
 subject, it is so metaphysical in its nature, and has occu- 
 pied so little of the aftentUm of mankind, that with all pos- 
 sil)le painstaking, an author is liable to be vd understood, 
 and to be ?»/.s'-understood. And more especially is this the 
 case where there is a studied brevit}' that condenses pages 
 to a sentence. Should the developments of time show that 
 some grains of error have been intermingled with the fol- 
 lowing ideas, the author has two sources of consolation; 
 first, that his intentions were honest; second, that no 
 previous writer on the subject can "cast the first st(.)ne." 
 All attempts to develop and elucidate a satisfactory system 
 of morals will prove abortive, if not based on fundamental 
 notions of the nature and destiny of man, and iheohjec-fs of 
 his creation. The following system has two foundations, 
 one of which is acknowled^'ed to be hypothetical; the other 
 is claimed to be made of the facts of observation. We now 
 present the first 
 
 PLATFORM OR PREMISE OF A MORAL SYSTEM. 
 
 2. This consists of notions which most monotheists, and 
 all Christians, have always embodied amot)g their funda- 
 mental notions of theology. For this and other reasons, 
 no attempt will be made to establish the premise, but only
 
 WU.L AND MOKALS. 69 
 
 to show that the conclusions are legitimately and irresist- 
 ibly deduced from the premise. The ])reiuise is simply 
 that Deity is, and has been, since a ])eriod long antei'ior 
 to the creation of aught besides, infinitely benevolent. 
 That benevolence is one of his ])rinlominaut characteristics. 
 The only ultimate object of the action of a benevolent 
 af>ent must be hajjpiness. Tbis may be called pleasure, 
 enjoyment, satisfaction, well-being, etc.; but the ?>/('« (with 
 which we have to deal) remains the same. This proposition 
 appears so self-evident as to render any argumentation, by 
 way of i)roof, very difficult. The only iilliina/e good is 
 happiness; all other good is relative, and it is only valuable 
 as it conduces to this end. Of what possible use, benefit, 
 or good are fine houses, statues and paintings, sunny skies 
 and fertile fields, if there are no sentiert beings to enjoy 
 them ? Of what advantage are a tine physical frame and 
 symmetrical limbs if there be no conscious spirit to con- 
 trol and enjoy them? Of what benefit is delightful music 
 if there be no ear to enjoy it ? All other good things are 
 links in a chain, of whicli iiappinessis the terminus. Ha])- 
 piness is a good in itself; it is only when it causes (as it 
 sometimes does) greater unhappiiiess, tliat it becomes an 
 evil; and even then the happiness is equally a good, only 
 the evil which it causes overbalances the good, and ren- 
 ders it worthy of avoidance. No chiim is here made to 
 originality; theologians and metaphysicians of reputation 
 have m;iintained the same ideas. 
 
 3. The idea above enunciated, though not the direct ob- 
 ject of the author, is distinctly' avowed in the following 
 quotation from Trumbull's Principles of Moral Philosophy; 
 taken from a note to President Edwards' work on the will. 
 " Whence then comes evil? is the question that hath in all 
 ages been reckoned the Gordimi knot in philosophy. And, 
 inileed, if we own the existence of evil in the world in an 
 ab.soUde sense, we diametrically contradict what hath been 
 just now i)roved of Oud. For if there be any eril in the 
 system, that is not good in respect to the ivliole, then is the 
 whole, not good, but evil; or at best, very imperfect. And 
 an author must be as his wor/iiuaiiship is; as is the effect, 
 such is the cause. But the solution of this ditKculty is at 
 hand: That there is no evil in the universe. What! are 
 there no pains, no imperfections ? Is there no imperfec- 
 tion ? Is there no misery, no vice in the world ? Or, are not
 
 70 WIIJ, ANU MORALS. 
 
 these evils? Evils, indcHMl iliey jire; tliat is, tliose of one 
 sort are Imitful, find those of the other sort eqiiiilly hurt- 
 ful and aboniinable; bnt tliey are not evil or niischievous 
 with respect, to the xrliole. But He is at the same time said 
 to ereat evil, darkness, contusion; and yet to do no evil, 
 but to be tlie author of man, butoiveth to all men liberally, 
 and u))braideth not. And by the])ro])het Isaiah, He is ia- 
 troduood, saying of Himself, I form light, and create dark- 
 ness; I make ])eaoe, aJid create evil; I, the Lord, do all 
 these things. What is the moaning, the plain language of 
 all tiiis? but I, th« Lord, delighfeth in goodness, and (as 
 the scripture speaks) evil is his strange work? He intemls 
 and pursues the universal gi)od of his creation, and the 
 evil which hajipens is not permitted for its own sake, 
 or through any pleasure in evil, but because it is requisite 
 to the greater good pursued." 
 
 4. President Edwurds, in his essay on the will, advances a 
 similar idea on the following quotation: " There is no in- 
 consistency in supposing that God may hate a thing as it is 
 in itself, and considered simpl}' as evil, and yet that it may 
 be his will it should come to pass, considering all con- 
 sequences. I believe, there is no person of good under- 
 standing, who will venture to say, he is certain that it is 
 impossible it should be best, taking in the whole compass 
 and extent of existence, and all consequences in the end- 
 less series of events, that there should be such a thing as 
 moral evil in the world, And if so, it will certainly follow, 
 that an intinitely wise being, who always chooses what is 
 best, must choose that there should be such a thing. And 
 if so, then sucli a choice is not an evil, but a wise and 
 holy choice; and if so, then that providence which is agree- 
 able to such a choice, is a wise and holy providence. God 
 does not will sin as sin, or for the sake of anything evil; 
 though it be his pleasure so to order things, that, He per- 
 mitting, sin will come to pass; for the sake of the great good 
 that by his disposal shall be the consequence. His willing 
 to order things so that evil shall come to pass, for the sake of 
 the contrary good, is no argument that He does not hate 
 evil, as evil; and if so, then it is no reason why He may 
 not reasonably forbid evil, as evil, and punish it as such." 
 (Page 371.) 
 
 5. Professor Finney says in his Systematic Theology, 
 the reason of moral oblij^ation " is then the intrinsic and
 
 WILL AND MUUALS. 
 
 71 
 
 iofiiiite value of the highest good of God and of the uni- 
 verse, that constitutes the true foundation of moral obliga- 
 tion. The highest well being of God, and of the universe 
 of sentient creatures, is the eml on which preference, choice, 
 intention, ought to terminate." " The late or the laiotjivcr 
 aims to promote the higest good or blessedness of the uni- 
 verse. Tliis must be the end of moral law and moral gov- 
 ernment. ^ 
 
 G. The idea which we wish to enunciate and elucidate 
 is clearl}' contained in each of the above quotations, though 
 mingled with other ideas with which at present we have 
 nothing to do. We wish to begin with ultimates; and we 
 wish to show that, with God's benevolent character as a 
 premise, happiness of the Creator and the created H/(^s•/ have 
 been the ohjc- 1 of creation. The particulars of tlie moral 
 faculties and of the moral obligation of their action we re- 
 serve for subsequent investigation, leased, not on hy|)(jthe- 
 ses of the character of the Creator, but an observation of 
 their nature. It is contrary to reason that a benevolent 
 Creator should enjoy as much happiness from the njisery of 
 bis creatures as their hapi)iness. From the above premise 
 we are prepared to enunciate the following conclusion: 
 that Ihc ita/tire of the moral faculties, and their drentjlh pro- 
 proporlionate to the other faculties, are such, con side ring the 
 imperfect state and dt^velojnnent <f man, as best lo promote the 
 highest happiness of God's creatures. If the wisdom of Deity 
 could, previous to creation, have discovered any other qual- 
 ity or degree of moral faculty that, if inserted into man as 
 he is, and as he is situated, would have resulted in more 
 ha))piness, what reason could he have had for not doing it? 
 
 7. Bishop Butler in his " Analogy" maintains the oppo- 
 site theory — that we can have no idea of the object of God 
 in creation. He says, in substance (I am obliged to quote 
 from memoiy, not having access to his work), tliat man can 
 have no conception (jf the object or end of creation. This 
 is clearly announced and illustrated by a strong compaii- 
 sou. It is readily admitted that if v/e know not what liis 
 predominant attributes or qualities are, or if He have attri- 
 butes or qualities of which we have no con(;e|)tion, we can 
 know nothing of his objects. But tlieologians assume to 
 know these; and if so, logic compels certain conclusions. 
 
 8. A few more conclusions remain to be detluced from 
 the above premise. And it may be well here to announce
 
 72 WILL AND MOIIAL8. 
 
 tliiiL we hIkiII iiiuleitiikfi U) pr(jvo tliut tljero are two kinds 
 of iiionility — absolute mornlity or rifj^lit, and relative mor- 
 ality or ri^dit. Tliese are diverse from and often directly 
 op|)OHite each other. It appears a conclusion from the 
 above premise that absolute morality or ii,i,dit consists in 
 that conduct of each individual which, in his relation to all 
 other boinjj^s, would result in the hif^hest happiness. Some 
 mi^dit add, without doiu<^ wron<f to any; but fflis is thought 
 unnecessary; for it is not to be admitted that an all-wise 
 Deity lias so contrived the mechanisnL of his creation that 
 ultimate fj^ood can be done by wrong to any. Another in- 
 ference is that a perfect intellect, able to apprehend the 
 fact and the nature of his relations to all other beings, 
 would see by the light of intellect the proper course for him 
 to pursue without the aid of a moral faculty. Another in- 
 ference is that a perfect moral faculty, legitimately- culti- 
 vated and exercised, would instinctively indicate a course 
 of conduct identical with the above, that is, calculated to 
 promote the highest possible happiness without any aid 
 from intellect, except such as is necessary for its action. 
 The imperfection of the intellect raises the necessity of a 
 moral facult}', and the imperfection of both raises the ne- 
 cessity of the above distinction betw'een absolute right and 
 relative right. "When these shall coalesce, man will have 
 attained his perfect development. When this will be, or 
 "whether ever, the writer saith not. We now come to con- 
 sider, from observation of the moral faculties, the second 
 platform. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 SECOND PLATFORM OR PREMISE OF A MORAL SYSTEM. 
 
 9. It should be borne in mind that we take as a starting 
 point the principle that happiness, pleasure, or that which 
 is agreeable, ))ositively, and pain or unhappiness, nega- 
 tively, are the oidy actual or possible motives to huiuan ac- 
 tion, and the only ultimate ends of human existence or ef- 
 fort; and other things are good only as they cause, directly 
 or indirectly, present or remote happiness. It seems to be 
 self-evident, and for that reason to forbid proof by any pro-
 
 WILL AND MORALS. 73 
 
 cess of ratiocination; for reason as long as we will, oiir 
 reasoning- must commence with premises or first principles 
 wliich are assnmed as starting points. Every thought and 
 emotion of tlie mind must be either agreeable, disagreeable, 
 or neutral. If agreeal)le it invites volition, if disagreeable 
 it repels it, and if neutral it can scarcely exert an influence. 
 Milton's demon may have truly said, " Evil, be thou my 
 good," but his constitution was such that he took pleasure 
 in that which, by the government under which he lived, 
 caused greater pain; ami he had not sufficient foresight, 
 moral principle, and self-control to avoid the greater evil. 
 
 HAPPINESS, WHAT? 
 
 10. Happiness is an agreeable state of mind consequent 
 on an action of some power of the mind. Sirictly speak- 
 ing, theie is no such thing as "bodily pain." The pain is 
 in the mind, and is caused Uy a disordered state of the b< dy. 
 The healtliy or normal action of any faculty occasions the 
 highest hapi linens of which it is capable witliout excessive 
 action, which either impairs its i)ower of contributing luip- 
 piness or causes a painful action of other faculties. Tlie 
 greatest good of mankind is the highest happiness of which 
 the race is cajjable. Good men are ready to admit that the 
 constitution and relation of our nature are such that each 
 one contributes most to the general good by that course 
 which is best calculated to secure his own hap[)iness. 
 
 THE HIGHES'l' PEKSONAl' HAPPINESS. 
 
 11. /s caused h)/ /lie vuisl. perfect hj/iii metrical developuieiil 
 and exercise of all tlie poivi-r-i (f our heiiKj. This proposition 
 will hardly encounter opposition, for it is liltle more than 
 a truism. It is n(jt said what is a symmetrical development 
 of each faculty; it is not said how much time and strength 
 sliould be devoted to the cultivation or exercise of anv (ac- 
 uity to give it a due proportionate development. It will 
 not readily be believed that there are any faculties which 
 aie supeitluous or which do not contribute to the general 
 good of the person; that the legitimate action of any fac- 
 ulty is painful, or that the appro[)riate action of any fac- 
 ulty infringes on the happy acttion of any other facultv. 
 The circumstances of an individual often ft)rl)id svmmefri- 
 cal development, his occupation requiring the dispropor-
 
 74 Wir,L AM> MOHALH. 
 
 tionate (lovclopiiiont of some ])articular faculty; but tliis is 
 uot against the general idea above stated. 
 
 ULTHIATK MOKALITY. 
 
 12. The same distinction between absolute morality and 
 relative morality, which was inferred from the character of 
 Deity, is thought to be a logical conclusion from the facts 
 above stated. JJUlmale or nhsolule morality is Uial conduct 
 for eacli pcrmn xohich in the circunislauces in xohich he is 
 placed, all things and all ti}nes bfing considered, luill do most 
 to promote tlie happiness of mankind and their Creator. Rel- 
 ative morality is that conduct which, in the relations he 
 sustains to others, is, as to him, right in the eyes of an om- 
 niscient being, and will excuse him from blame. Ultimate 
 morality can be known only b}' a perfect intellect and a 
 perfect moral faculty, and therefore is known only to the 
 omniscient Deity; yet it is the point which all should strive 
 for; that is, they should strive so to cultivate all their fac- 
 ulties as to come as near to it as possible. The second rule 
 leads different i)ersous to diflereut conduct, and even to 
 that which is directl}' opposite, explaining facts that every- 
 where exist. Before answering the pertinent query. How 
 can we ascertain the second rule in practical life? it will 
 be necessary to give an exposition of the nature of the 
 
 MORAL F.^CULTT. 
 
 13. The moral faculty is that power of the inind xohich, in 
 all conduct which may affect the happiness of others, awa/cens 
 the se)dimrnt of moral obligation. The sentiment of right, or 
 moral obligation, exists, with greater or less distinctness, in 
 all men who have not stupefied it by crime. To say that 
 this is produced by a certain power of mind, is nothing 
 more than to say, that the mind has power to exercise or 
 produce such a sentiment. It is not saying whether the 
 mind produces this sentiment by acting as a whole, or by 
 the action of a particular part of the substance or essence 
 of the immaterial mind, or the brain through which it acts. 
 This question presents no issue which has anything to do 
 with the practical nature of the sentiment, and therefore is 
 not entitled to discussion at present. 
 
 14. A little reflection will sufl&ce to convince any one.
 
 WILL AND MORALS. 75 
 
 that the moral faculty is tlie , parent of the sentiment; and 
 tbe moral sentiment of the words should, ouf^lit, etc., ex- 
 pressing the sentiment. The sentiment or idea must have 
 existed previous to the word expressing it; the sentiment 
 of sublimity was the originator of the word. The words 
 "color," "red," "blue," and "olive" would be impossible and 
 uselessin theirpresentsense, had notthe perce[)ti()nsof colors 
 existed previous to the word, and had not the mintl power 
 to ))roduce them again. The words music, harmony, and 
 mehnly would be useless had the mind no uuisical faculty; 
 the same is true of any word expressing the action of any 
 simple uncombiued faculty. The intellect can judge of the 
 expediency — policy of an action; or its tendency to i)roduce 
 happiness; but this is dilfcrent from oughtuess which can 
 only be given by the moral faculty. A certain amount of 
 intellectual action is necessary to enable one of these sim- 
 ple faculties to act. Tbe faculty of sublimity cannot act 
 unless the intellect takes up the outlines of a sublime ob- 
 ject. All raetaph3'sicians agree, that the instinctive or nat- 
 ural action of each sim])le faculty of the mind ])roduces in 
 all men the same mental state, or sentiment, dirteiing onl}'^ 
 in the degrees of intensity. If this be true, the moral fac- 
 ulty enforces in all men, the same circumstances, the same 
 conduct. But this is notoriously contrary to fact. One 
 man eats meat on Friday conscientiously, and another with 
 as good a conscience abstains. Nothing is more common 
 than for men's conscience to conflict. Yet it is a simple 
 facultj'. How is this apparent contradiction to be explained? 
 15. The explanation is ready, and we thiidc will be satis- 
 factory. As before stated, a certain amount of intellectual 
 action is necessary, as a condition of the action of all the 
 simple faculties of the mind. The outlines of an object 
 must be ])erceived before it ran be i)ronounced, b}' the ac- 
 tion of the faculty of sublimity, to be sublime or otherwise. 
 The amount of intellectual action necessary to the action of 
 some faculties is greater than for others. A small amount 
 of intellectual action is sufficient for the action of the facul- 
 ties of color, and music; more for the action of sublimity, 
 and beauty; and still more for the action of the moral fac- 
 ulties. Previous to the action of the moral faculties, there 
 must be an action of all those powers of mind that impart a 
 knowledge of, and constitute the relations of the person to 
 all others whom his conduct may allect. This relation to
 
 7(5 WILI, AM) MOUALS. 
 
 uIIkth, consistH not simply in tlio C'xt(;rniil circnmstance.s of 
 the person, but in the Htnte of each other faculty, coiis/jicu- 
 ous (Diiinuj xohicli are mni's rdujiuns and moralhcli'^fH. These 
 are not alike in any two i)ersons, and in many they are the 
 reverse; hence the moral sentiment must necessarily be 
 difl'erent in different persons. We may now consider the 
 means of the 
 
 CULTIVATION OF THE MOKAL FACULTY. 
 
 IG. The moral faculty, being a simple faculty of the 
 mind, acting instinctively, or spontaneously, that is, by the 
 force of its own nature, when the conditions are supplied, 
 the laws of its cultivation are similar to those of other fac- 
 ulties. It should be kept in mind, that the natural action 
 of all the primary or simjjle faculties are the same in all 
 men and in all ages. This is an admitted principle, and 
 must be so, else all scientific knowledge of mind is at an 
 end. All, then, that the cultivation of the nioral faculty, 
 simply as such, can do, is, not to change or reverse the ap- 
 provals or disapprovals, but to increase the distinctness, 
 j)Ower, and delicacy of its emotions. Tlie most stu^jid clown 
 does not think liarmony discord, or melody harshness; nor 
 does he think a sublime or a beautiful object the reverse. 
 But those who have cultivated these faculties, have a much 
 stronger and more delicate action of them. Every one 
 knows that the way to cultivate any power of mind, is, to 
 e.Kercise it with system an<l perseverance. He who wishes 
 to cultivate the logical faculty, plies himself to solving the 
 problems and demonstrating the theorems of Euclid. He 
 who woulil improve his musical powers composes music, 
 sings, and plays instruments of mu.sic. The obvious way, 
 then, to cultivate the moral faculty, is, carefaUif to consult 
 tkf moral sense in every act invoicing ??i' ral principle. If the 
 object of action be, as it too often is, to gain the applause 
 autl approbation of our fellow-meu, or to gain wealth, irre- 
 spective of the action of the moral sense, it is not cultivated, 
 but rather stupefied. We now come to consuler an impor- 
 tant part of our subject, namely, how we may ascertain, 
 for practical life, as to one's self, 
 
 THE RULE OF ItlGHT. 
 
 17. As the moral faculties, as shown above, act on the
 
 WILT. AND MORALS. 77 
 
 materials furnished bv the intellect, consisting of the rela- 
 tions apprehended or su]iposed to be apprehended, the 
 moral sense will be accordinjif to the state of the intellect. 
 The method of ascertaining the rule of right in any given 
 case is to enlighten the intellect as far as may be as to the 
 relations one sustains to other beings. One should avMil 
 himself of all means within hisreacli — the Bible, the conver- 
 sations of wise men who have considered these things, books 
 of casuistry, and all other means of informing the intellect. 
 But one must depend on his own judgment as to the books 
 he shall consult, the importance lie shall attach to their 
 teachings, and, in the last resort, his conscience will act 
 upon the material so furnished to it by his intellect. If it 
 be asked how we are to know that this diligence ought to 
 be used, 1 answer that common sense and conscience teach 
 that proper exertion ought to be ujade to ascertain duty. 
 When the conscience thus acts, its decisions are peremjitory 
 and final, without appeal and without exception. It is the 
 rule of right to which his conduct should conform; and by 
 which he ought to be judged l)y all moral tribunals. If lie 
 does not conform to the rule of absolute right (as is often 
 the case), it is owing to the imperfection of his faculties. 
 He has done his best to ascertain that rule If this is not 
 his rule of right, he has no means of ascertaining it, and 
 must guess in the dark If one has inpairod his faculties, 
 he may have sinned in so doing, but it would be contrary 
 to the common sense and cultivated reason of mankind, to 
 demand what is be^'ond liis present capacity to accomplish. 
 If the above rule is not correct, it is impossible to ascertain 
 duty. If a person believes in any sui)ernatural or natural 
 code of morals, his conscience would enforce it. Some have 
 contended that men sometimes do wrong when acting ac- 
 cording to the distinct dictation of conscience; but this is 
 owing to a confusion of ideas consequent on not making 
 the above distinction between absolute morality and relative 
 morality. It is seen that men's consciences are different 
 and reverse from each other; it is bcilieved right is identical 
 and unchangeable. In reconciling these ideas they are led 
 into error. If it is ever right to act counter to conscience, 
 the cases should be carefully pointed out; but what writer 
 on casuistry ever undertook sucli a task? Let him who 
 thinks it right to violate conscieiic(% undertake to point out 
 the [irecise circumstances in wliicli it should be done. Be-
 
 (8 WILL ANP MOHALS. 
 
 sides, if conseicHce is not u rule of nioiiil conduct, we 
 have no means of ascertfiiiiinpf duty; for the decisions of 
 our best judg:nient are a basis on wLicb conscience acts. 
 The voice of poets (who are thought to be more trutliful 
 expositors of human nature than theorists) is not wanting 
 to substantiate the foregoing ideas. One says: 
 
 " He that does the best his circuinstances allow. 
 Does well, acts nobly, angels covild do no more." 
 
 Another not unknown to fame says : 
 
 " Whatever creed be taught or land be trod, 
 Tlie voice of conscience is the voice of God." 
 
 Another of a still greater fame as a Christian writer says: 
 
 " What conscience dictates to be done. 
 
 Or warns me n<jt to do; 
 This teac:h me more than hell to slum, 
 
 Tliat more than heaven pursue." 
 
 18. We have thus given the fundamental principles of a 
 sj'stem of morals. To apply these to practical life would be 
 foreign to our purpose, and would swell this volume bej'ond 
 its prescribed limits. Besides, every moral act rests on its 
 own merits, and were all these given, the "world itself 
 could not contain the books that should be written." It is 
 more feasible and practical to prove first principles, so that 
 each one can, by their help, ascertain his duty in every 
 conceivable circumstance. We here fully adopt the follow- 
 ing doctrine and language of President Mahan in the preface 
 to his Moral Philosophy. He says: "The unvcrtainhj which 
 commonly attends disquisitions in Moral Philosoph}' is 
 owing, as it appears to me, to the reason stated above — the 
 want of well-settled ideas of the true end and aim of such 
 a science. Let it once be understood that its sphere is not 
 to specify, in a formal manner, the varied duties of man; 
 not to decide whether such and such particular courses of 
 conduct are wright or wrong, but to furnish and elucidate 
 universal formulas or principles, in the light of which all 
 such questions may be answered b^' the student for him- 
 self, and then moral philosophy will take its place, not 
 among the uncertain, but the certain sciences." 
 
 It is earnestly hoped that the brevity with which these
 
 WILL AND MORALS. 79 
 
 principles have been enunciated and elucidated will not 
 lead to their misapprehension; if anj' carelessly or will- 
 fully misconstrue them, their sin be upon their own head. 
 Owing to its intrinsic inj})()rtance, in the li<^ht of the fore- 
 going- principles, we subjoin the following consideration 
 of human or national governments. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HUMAN OR NATIONAL GOVERNMENTS. 
 
 19. Governments are necessary to secure and promote 
 the highest happiness of the governed; therefore they are 
 right. Good governments are desirable, but poor ones 
 better than none; even tyranny is better than anarchy. 
 Therefore, governments should be obeyed, with the follow- 
 ing exceptions: 
 
 (1.) As governments are instituted and sustained to pro- 
 tect life, liberty, property, and such pursuits of happiness 
 as do not infringe on the rights of others; whenever they 
 become destructive of these ends, it is the right of the 
 people to alter or abolish them! Revolution, rebellion, 
 and secession are rights inherent in the people. Wliat ex- 
 tent of grievance will justify, or what prospect of forming 
 a better government will warrant them, is matter for sound 
 discretion. That such is the belief of Americans since the 
 Revolution, is well attested each Fourth of July. 
 
 (2 ) When the mandates cf government are contrary to 
 the dictates of conscience. If the foregoing principles are 
 true, there is no exception to the princii)le that the dictate 
 of conscience is the rule of duty or conduct for the indi- 
 vidual. 
 
 In such a case, when conscience is obeyed and law vio- 
 lated, one of three courses must be taken. The person 
 must quietly submit to the penalty of the law, or escape it 
 by stealth, or openly resist it. As either is right, it is a 
 matter of discretion which sh;dl be taken. The tirst proves 
 the sulleier's sincerity, and exerts a powerful moral influ- 
 ence. The second is justifiable on the score of self-preser-
 
 80 WIM, AN!) MOKALS. 
 
 valioii. Tlio jliird, ill niso tlie iiiteiitioi) is to reform povern- 
 iiKMil, aiuniiiit.s to reljellioii; and the above remarks will 
 apply; if the intention is to sacrifice the resisters as rnar- 
 tvrs, it is matter of discretion whether such is the best 
 conrst^ 
 
 20. The followinfi^ rMnarks on this subject, found in 
 Macaul.iy's "History of England" (pp. 305), are wortliy 
 of consideration. This justly aj)proved writer, inakinf( no 
 pretension to casuistry, sjjeaks as a practical man and a 
 historiiin. He says: " It is true that to trace the exact 
 boundary between rightful and wrongful resistance is im- 
 possible: but this impossibility arises from the nature of 
 right and wrong, and is found in almost every part of ethi- 
 cal science. A good action is not distinguished from a bad 
 action by marks so plain as those which distinguish a hex- 
 agon from a square. There is a frontier where virtue and 
 vice fade into each other. Who has ever been able to de- 
 fine the exact boundary between courage and rashness, be- 
 tween ])rudenoe and cowardice, between frugality and 
 avarice, between lil)erulity and prodigality? Who has been 
 able to say how far mercy to offenders ought to l)e carried, 
 and where it ceases to deserve the name of mercy and l)e- 
 comes a pernicious weakness? What casuist, what law- 
 giver, has ever been able to mark nicely tlie limits of the 
 right of self-defense ? All our jurists hold that a certain 
 quantity of risk to life or limb justifies a man in shooting 
 or stabbing an assailant: but they have long given up in 
 despair the attempt to describe in precise words, that 
 quantity of risk. They only say it must be, not a slight 
 risk, but a risk such as would cause serious apprehension 
 to a man of firm mind; and who will undertake to say what 
 is the precise amount f)f ajiprehension which deserves toMje 
 called serious, or what is the precise texture of mind which 
 deserves to lie called firm? It is doubtless to be regretted 
 that words and the nature of tilings do not admit of more 
 accurate legislation: nor can it be denied that wrong will 
 often be done wlien men are judges in their own cause, ;ind 
 proceed instantly to execute their own judgment. Yet who 
 would, on that a''count, interdict all self-defense? The 
 riglit which a jieojile has to resist a bad government bears 
 a close analogy to the right which an individual, in the ab- 
 sence of legal protection, has to slay an assailant. In both 
 cases the evil must be iifrave. In both cases all resfularand
 
 WILL AND MOKALS. 81 
 
 peaceable modes of defence must be exhausted before the 
 aggrieved party resorts to extremities. In both cases an 
 awful responsibility is incurred. In both the burden of 
 proof lies on him who has ventured on so des])erate an ex- 
 pedient; and, if he fails to vindicate himself, he is justly 
 liable to the severest penalties. But in neither case can 
 we absolutely deny the existence of the right. A man be- 
 set by assassins is not bound to let himself be tortured and 
 butchered, without using his wea})ons, because nobody has 
 been able precisely to define the amount of danger which 
 justifies homicide. Nor is society bound to endure pas- 
 sively- all that tyranny can inflict, because nobody has been 
 able precisely to define the amount of misgovern ment which 
 justifies rebellion." As an important adjunct of morals and 
 government, we subjoin the following considerations of 
 
 PUNISHMENT OR RETRIBUTIOX. 
 
 21. Of that ])unishment which Deity may inflict after 
 death, for moral delinquencies before, we have nothing to 
 say. This is a question of theology, and to theologians we 
 shall leave it. This punishment emanates from the Divine 
 Will, and nothing respecting it can be known with definite 
 certainty, except by revelation, or some ]>i)sitive communi- 
 cation from Deity; except what can be inferred from liis 
 character. If we know his diarncti'r, the (^lul or ohjecl of his 
 actions is matter of logical inference; and if our intellect 
 is suflticient to judge of the a|)i)licability of means to that 
 end, we can determine, at least negatively, that He will not 
 use means nowise adapted to accomplish the end. The 
 fact that at death our being undergoes a great modification, 
 and that we have no means of knowing precisely what our 
 faculties will be after that change, seems to ignore all pre- 
 cise argumentation from this to that. Perhaps it is partly 
 owing to this that the sincere believers in revelation con- 
 strue it to teach so many ditferent ideas with regard to 
 future ])unishment The most that philosophy can say is, 
 that so long as existence remains, so much of our present 
 constitution will lemaiii as is necessary to preserve identity: 
 and this is enough to show conclusively that a virtuous life 
 will mud) more conduce to a capacity for happiness after 
 death than a vicious one. 
 
 22. That punishment which national governments inflict
 
 82 • WILL AND MORALS. 
 
 for tlio violation of its laws, Hhonkl, as far as practicable, 
 corrcHpoiid with rif,'lit or inoralily. The object is the same 
 — huuiiin li!ij)i)iiiesH. The object of punislinient, then, is 
 protection of society and reformation of the criminal. 
 Those means should be used which are best adapted to 
 these ends. The details of such treatment are foreign to 
 the objects of this work. 
 
 23. Aside from tbe outward and tangible punishment of 
 vice, the keen and delicate relish of virtuous action is gradu- 
 ally destroyed. And the more any faculties are unduly de- 
 veloped and exercised, which alone constitutes vice, the 
 more the person is likely to engage in that conduct which 
 will terminate disastrously. These considerations, the most 
 weighty if rightly viewed, and the greatest bulwark of vir- 
 tue, lose their force as the mind increases in moral turpi- 
 tude; hence the necessity of prisons and positive inflictions. 
 Punishment being protective and reformatory, all excess, 
 either in duration or degree, which does not conduce to 
 this end, being wanton cruelty, can have no moral force. 
 It may awaken the slavish fear which the vanquished has 
 for an inexorable tyrant, but can never awaken love, re- 
 spect, or confidence. 
 
 2-4. President Mahan, in his Moral Philosophy, says the 
 idea of retribution " has its basis in the idea of merit and 
 demerit, as inlriitsicaUy attacliing to right or wrong moral 
 action. The ill-desert attaching to wrong-doing pertains 
 exclusively to what is intrinsic iu the action itself, and 
 does not depend at all upon the conduct of the subject af- 
 ter Us pe7-pel ration. The act iu itself remains what it is, 
 and consequently its ill-desert, whatever the subsequent 
 conduct of the perpetrator may be." 
 
 25. It is a little diliicult to determine precisely what is 
 meant b}' the phrase, " demerit intrinsically attaching to 
 Wright or wrong moral action." If it be meant that the 
 action is the measure of moral turpitude and punishment, 
 independent of the constitution or external circumstances 
 of the subject acting, few will be induced to receive it. 
 The foregoing theory is, that the reformation or future 
 well-being of the moral delinquent, and the protection of 
 society, is the basis of, and is identical with, " the merit or 
 demerit intrinsically attaching to right or wrong moral 
 action." The object, then, of retribution or punishment is, 
 to secure good or happiness. To secure this, its necessity
 
 AVILL AND MORALS. 83 
 
 has its basis in the nature of man, including his moral 
 sense or conscience, and the constitution of that society 
 the happiness of which his conduct may affect. 
 
 2G. All facts show that some men are created or born with 
 a constitution much nunc favorable to virtue or vice than 
 others. Those who deny tliis are beyond the reach of ar^i^u- 
 meut. It is equally apparent that some are, in their help- 
 less years, while habits and character are most rapidly 
 formed, surrounded by circumstances more favorable to vir- 
 tue, than others. To say that in a government so perfect 
 that all these things can be lin(j\vn and taken into the ac- 
 count, ns is the case with mor.d government, desert of 
 punishment " attaches to what is intrinsic in the act itself," 
 will appear to muny as a flagrant violation of the very gist 
 and end of punishment "which both from the first and 
 now, was, and is, to " promote the highest happiness of 
 sentient existence, and of each individual as a constituent 
 element thereof. 
 
 27. If it be said, " severity of punishment is necessary to 
 inspire the governed with reverence for the dignity of the 
 government," I answer, will excessive, • useless cruelty 
 awaken in the minds of reasonable beings love and reverence 
 for the iijflictor? Or is it best to conform governments 
 to the ideas of unreasonable men, and demons? In the 
 above quotation the idea is clearly announced that re- 
 pentance or reformation forms no ground of the omission of 
 punishment. On the foregoing theory, a genuine reforma- 
 tion which is known, destroys every ground or reason of 
 punishment. 
 
 (1.) The highest good of the offender is alreadj' eftected 
 by his reformation. Tiie force of the example on the 
 vicious is simply that they can escape punishment by re- 
 forming; an example that all good men Avould like to see 
 followed. True, this will not exhibit the mercy of the 
 Killer; for the sternest justice can go no further. The per- 
 sistence in the infliction of positive moral |)unisl)ment on 
 beings of imj)erfect organization, and but little t'Xi)erience 
 in existence, after a sincere rei)entaiice and reformation, 
 would be a wanton, motiveless act of tyrannical cruelty 
 unparalleled in the acts of the Iiiquisition, or pan- 
 demonium; for these were prompted V)y selfish I'nds. 
 
 28. Human governments cannot recognize tliis principle, 
 simply because they cannot distinguish between a genuine
 
 84 WILL AND MOKALS. 
 
 and a feigned rcpeiitanco; no sncli reason exists in moral 
 Pfovernnuiiii. And what liarm lias ever occurred, when 
 executive clenjency has released from punishment one who 
 has given long and indubitable proof of reformation ? 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CAPITAL PUNISHMENT. 
 
 29. Contrary to my oris:inal intention, to gratify the 
 wishes of some, I have consented to apply the foregoing 
 abstract rules of morals and government, to this much- 
 mooted subject. All that can l)e attetn])ted is, to present 
 a mere skeleton of the subject, leaving the reader to fill up 
 those details which would swell this volume beyond its 
 prescribed limits. 
 
 30. It is argued, affirmatively. 
 
 (1.) That it is the express command of God in the text, 
 " Whoso sheddeth man's blood, by man shall his blood be 
 shed." This text, as distinguished from Jewish national 
 laws, is a command given to Noah, as the representative 
 and progenitor of all posterity, and becomes binding on 
 the race. 
 
 (2.) That it more effectually prevents murder, by the 
 force of exemplary punishment. 
 
 (3.) That it more effectually prevents murder by de- 
 priving the murderer of the ])ower of committing further 
 crime. 
 
 31. Negative!}', it is argued in reply to the first argu- 
 ment above, that no law given to Jews is binding, for if 
 one is, all are, " which proves too much, and therefore 
 proves nothing." (2.) That it is doubtful whether the 
 above text is a com wand, or a mere maxim or ])roverb, or 
 a prophecy. (3.) Whether it be binding on other nations. 
 (4.) Whether it was not repealed by the Christian dispensa- 
 tion, even if it were a command. The second argument, 
 so far as it is a ju-inri, or from principle, is merely begging 
 the question. History and reason concur to prove that 
 thai punishment which is most properly adapted or pro-
 
 WILL AND MORALS. 85 
 
 portioned to the crime, has the greatest exemplary force. 
 An nnjnst degree of piinishiuent but hardens the heart. 
 Whetlier cai)ital punishment be adii/itad to the crime is the 
 very question at issue. Probably there has not been a suf- 
 ficiently extended trial of both ujethods of punishment to 
 make out a conclusive argument. So far as trial has been 
 had, it seems, in the opinion of many, to be against cajjital 
 l^unishment. 
 
 With our present, or more ]jerfect state-prison arrange- 
 ments, there can be but little force to the third argument. 
 
 It should be borne in mind, that if the foregoing essay 
 develops correct principles, the proper objects of all 
 ])unishment are protection of society and reformation of the 
 criminal; therefore, all paiu inflicted which is not neces- 
 'sary to the one, or does not tend to the other, is vindicative 
 and wrong. 
 
 32. (1.) The first argument against capital p.unishment 
 is, that the innocent sometimes suffer. Notwithstanding 
 that, in favor of life, the law strongl}' favors the accused; 
 yet it is too fre(]uent for the innocent to be accused, tried, 
 convicted, sentenced, executed, and afterwards proved to 
 be so. In case of capital punishment, no restitution can 
 be made; but in case of imprisuument by executive par- 
 don, the unfortunate sullerercan be restored to character 
 and liberty; and might, by legislative provision, have the 
 l)ittance he has earned. This argument must have cou- 
 sideral)le weight, and can only be set aside by necessity. 
 
 (2.) The criminal has time and space -for repentance and 
 reformation. The arrangements of penitentiaries are de- 
 signed, and in a good degree calculated, to quiet and re- 
 press the action of those faculties which prompt to crime 
 and to promote the action of those which pronjpt to vir- 
 tuous action. In mcjst cases reformation is possible, in 
 some actual, and in a few hoi)eless. On the hypothesis 
 that probation absolutely ceases with life, and endless, un- 
 mitigable torment awaits the culprit, this consideration 
 swells to an importance inconceivable to a Unite mind. 
 
 33. (3.) The criuiinal, if iniprisoned, niav earn something 
 for his family, if he has one (and the legislature may give 
 it them); if not, he may earn something for the State. 
 
 (4.) In case of imprisonment punishment can he made a 
 little more certain than in case of hanging; such is the feel- 
 ing of juries and executive functionaries; and as Blackstoue
 
 80 WILL AND MOUALS. 
 
 truly says, in substance, the exemplary force of jmnish- 
 nient depends not so much on its i^everili/ as on its cnrlainly. 
 IVIurderei's, almost exclusively, either expect to escape pun- 
 ishment or are driven by their passions to such desperation 
 that they are willing to sacrifice themselves. In England, 
 when a great number of petty crimes were punished with 
 death, those crimes were astonishingly ])revalent. If, in 
 the nature of niind, and in the nature of things external to 
 the mind, imprisonment be more }»roportioued to the crime 
 than death, then its exemplary force as a preventive of 
 murder will be greater. On principle, a priori, this is 
 thought to be the case; a sufficiently extended trial has 
 probably not taken place to prove it, a posteriori, fronj facts. 
 
 CHAPTER y. 
 
 OF PERSONAL IDENTITY. 
 
 34. Personal identity may be considered under two di- 
 visions: First, the fact or existence of identity; second, 
 the knowledge, evidence, or proof of identity. Feisonal 
 ideiilihj may be said to consist of a conslitiition of our iinture 
 btj \chich Uif.re, is some degree of simihirih/ and caumlive in- 
 Jlueiice between tite successive mentcd states or ttiouglds, feel- 
 ings, and volitions. • 
 
 (1.) There is not a precise similarity in body or mind at 
 any two different periods of time. There is a great dissim- 
 ilarity between the young babe and the veteran ready to 
 sink into the grave, yet they are the same identical person. 
 Identity must be either of the constitution or of the con- 
 stituent substance. It cannot be an identity of the con- 
 stituent elements of the physical system; for physiologists 
 agree that these are constantly changing, and that there is 
 an entire change once in seven years. It cannot be iden- 
 tity of the constituent elements of mind, for if mind is an 
 attenuated form of matter, the elementary particles of mat- 
 ter will change Avitb those of the physical system; but if 
 mind be spiritual and immaterial, it is beyond the ccjgni- 
 zauce of our faculties, except by consciousness, which can 
 give us no information on the^ubject. Since, then, it can-
 
 WILL AND MORALS. 87 
 
 not be identitj' of constituent substance, and since there is 
 not a complete sameness at successive periods, identity 
 must be sucb a constitution as produces some dejjfree of 
 similarity between the successive mental states. This can 
 only be uniformly jnoduced by some causative influence in 
 the antecedents over the subsequents. 
 
 35. It is conceived that philosophy can afford no solution 
 of the question whether mind is material or imnjaterial in 
 its or<^anization. Most pliysiologists admit that mind in its 
 manifestations is dependent on, and aft'ected by, the organ- 
 ized matter of the brain and nervous system, r/.s if it were 
 part mtd parcel <>/' Ihat vitalized matter. It is said b}' the ma- 
 terialist that " death destroys this organization, and conse- 
 quently all i)()wer of mental manifestation.' But what 
 proof have they that there is not an immaterial substratum 
 capable of mental manifestation dependent on the orgiini- 
 zation of the |)hysi{;al system during its connection there- 
 with, but self-acting afterwards? Or what evidence have 
 they that, if mind be niaterial, on the dissolution of the 
 more gross and tangible part of our physical systems a 
 more refined and attenuated form of material organization 
 may not remain ca])able of manifesting mind? 
 
 36. (2.) The knowledge or proof of identity is made out 
 by the testimoiiy of consciousness and memor}'. At each 
 successive period we are conscious of certain mental states; 
 by consciousness we know that our present memory is a 
 part of ourselves. This memory links together the succes- 
 sive conscious states, convincing that they all belonged to 
 UH. No one doubts tlie truthfulness of memory wiien le- 
 gitimately exercised. It being a single power or faculty of 
 the mind, like all other simple mental faculties, its legiti- 
 mate conclusions must be taken as final or all knowledge 
 and reasoning must come to an end. But it is said " that 
 memory is often erroneous." I answer, so are tlie most 
 simple faculties of observation. Persons often diU'er in re- 
 gard to the color and shai^e of objects the}' have both seen; 
 but this is owing, not to tlie fallibility of the faculties them- 
 selves, but tlieir hurried, confused, and imperfect exercise, 
 by which a wrong idea is had at the time. So it is with 
 memory; if it ever err, it is owing to an imperfect exercise 
 at the time the impres.sion is made, or a subsequent dis- 
 eased or decaj'ed state of the physical system sufficient to 
 produce some degree of mental unsoundness.
 
 88 WILL AM) MOKALS. 
 
 37. Aliliou^'li identity includes all that (monies within the 
 sphere or i)ale uf coiiHciousness, yet all of consciousness is 
 not essential to identity or the person. We may ascertain 
 the extent of identity by seeing what i)art may be removed 
 without destroying tlie person. Either of our limbs may 
 be removed and identity still remain; so any part of the 
 ])hysical system may be removed without destroying iden- 
 tity which does not destroy the vitality of such system. It 
 will readily be conceded that the jdiysical system cannot 
 live without tlie mental, and that it is not absurd for the 
 mental to exist after the physical system is dissolved; there- 
 fore identity must be in the mind, and not in the matter 
 tliJit surrounds it. If we examine still further we shall find 
 that some faculties of mind may be removed without de- 
 stroying identity or the person. In some persons, not de- 
 ficient in intellect, some faculties are almost wanting. 
 George Combe, although a great philosopher, was so des- 
 titute of tlie faculty of calculation that he never could learn 
 the multii)lication table. If we continue this trimming 
 ]iroces.s we shall tind that any faculty can be removed and 
 identity still remain, until we destroy' one of the three gi'eat 
 departments of mind — the intellect or knowing part, the 
 sensibility or department of desire and feeling or emotion, 
 and the will or acting part. If either of these is gone, the 
 jxnsDU or identity is broken up. If intellect be wanting, 
 desire is totally blind as to the means of its own gratifica- 
 tion, (u: even of sustaining existence; if desire were want- 
 ing, whatever be the knowledge, there could be no motive 
 to action; and if the will be wanting, though intellect and 
 desire are full, yet no action could take place in accordance 
 with the one or in gratification of the other. Therefore, 
 whatever changes have taken place in the past or may in 
 the future, we may safelv say that some degree of intellect, 
 sensibility, and will are necessary to continue personalit}'. 
 
 38. The question has been asked, " Do persons think in 
 a sound sleep?" It would seem that any definition of 
 '' thought " is defective that does not include conscious- 
 ness. Thought may be defined to be a conscious succes- 
 sion or variation of mental phenomena. This may be illus- 
 trated by the phent)menon of physical pain, which is a dis- 
 a^ieeable feeling or sensation caused by a disordered state 
 of the physical .system. Can pain exist without our being 
 conscious of it? All the physical phenomena may exist in
 
 WILL AND MORALS. 89 
 
 the band when the nerve connecting it with the brain is 
 severed or ])ar!ilyzed; yet as the proper "I," or jjerson is 
 bounded and limited hy consciousness, if there be p;iiu it 
 is that of the hand, and not of the person; or, more prop- 
 erly speaking, it. is hut an antecedent part of what would 
 be pain if it were not for the separation of the hand from 
 the peison ; so, while consciousness is susjiended, as in a 
 swoon or sound sleep, all the phenomena of thought may 
 oc(U)r in the brain; hut tliese ])li3'sical tiiovements are only 
 an antecedent part of thou;^ht until it comes to conscious- 
 ness. We areentirely unable to say whetlier there be men- 
 tal phenomena bnyond the sphere of consciousness, as this 
 is all the powei' we have of investigating mind; and by hy- 
 ])othesis this is dojinant. But this we can say, that if there 
 be mental phenomena they nre but a part of the thought 
 of the person and aie detached, existing " on their own 
 hook," as some |>liiioso])hers say men are. being a si)ark 
 struck oft' from Deity. 
 
 CONCLUSIOX. 
 
 89. It may be said " that the piiiiciple of the foregoin"' 
 "Work, is too simple to apply to so ])rot'ouii<l an oi))ect as 
 iniiiit. It does not look re!isonal)le that the mnltitari(.us 
 mental o|)erations, the sublime and religious emotions, the 
 profound reasonings, and the teniler and gushing attVctions 
 should all conform to the simple law of causation, or of 
 uniformity of conserpjent with a similar antecedent." To 
 thi-> it may be said, tlnit truth is simpler than error and 
 falsehood. A thousand f.ilse representations may be made 
 of a single occurreiice, but only one true (»ne False ])hil- 
 (.siipliy is always more complic;ded thjin that which is true* 
 and not nntrequenti}' has the true been rejected, in the ijro- 
 giess of science, an account of its simplicity. Alchenriv was 
 believed in, and pursued by tlie learned, for long centuries 
 in tlie exi)eciation of finding the ijhilosopher's stone, and 
 the means of trarjsforming the baser metals into goKl, 
 Even Lord Bacon's vast and penetrating mind did not es- 
 cape the general contagion. Yet the phantom of alchemy 
 wjis much more complex than the true science of chemistiv 
 whiili reduces the mtiou and <-ondiination of chemical 
 agents, to general hiws, wliicli aie ascertained by experi- 
 uient. Astrology, which pervaded antiquity, through its 
 6
 
 90 WILL AND MOUALS. 
 
 moat scioiilific periods, remnants of vviiich are still discerni- 
 ble in the })<)i)tilar superstitions, was vastly more compli- 
 cated tlian astronomy, its s(;ientific successor. This explains 
 the vast, beautiful, and compli(!ated movements of the en- 
 tire planetary system, by a sim|)le law which every clown 
 understands. Monotheistic Christianity is more simple 
 than polytheistic idolatry. Much scientific research has 
 proved fruitless ou account of overlooking the simplicity of 
 truth and nature. 
 
 40. It may be said, " tlie foregoing theory reduces man 
 to a level with the brute." In answer it may be asked. Of 
 what faculties does it dejDrive man ? Does it not leave him 
 all his sublime moral, religious, and beautiful emotions, 
 and his God-like reason ? Do not these, together with the 
 greater perfection of all his faculties, sufficient^ distinguish 
 him from lower animals? It leaves him as it finds him. It 
 deprives him of no faculty or destiny, to which he was be- 
 fore entitled. 
 
 41. Ayaiu it may be said that " the foregoing theory 
 makes man a mere machine, depriving him of the {)ower of 
 acting only as he is caused to act." True an attempt has 
 been made to detect a resemblance in this, that while one 
 is a thing of law, the other is not a being of blind, chaotic 
 chance. But it is thought that no great acumen isrequii'ed 
 to discern a distinction in the noble powers of thought, de- 
 liberation, choice, affection, and in some measure of self- 
 action, as a part of motive is himself. True we think, in a 
 certain sense, he has not the power of acting differently from 
 his pleasure or choice, until his pleasure or choice are 
 changed, but can this be a hardship ? 
 
 42. Again it maj' be said that " it destroys the morality, 
 tightness or wrongness, of couductand character." I an- 
 swer, by no means. We may differ slightl}' as to the pre- 
 cise meaning of these terms; and still more as to the treat- 
 ment of those to whom they apply. But our vision is too 
 obtuse to see why, on that account, you have a better right 
 to say wt' destroy them, than tee have to say you destroy 
 them. Moral wrong or blamableuess, is a term which is 
 used to designate or describe one wlio is deficient in moral 
 faculties, as evidenced by his conduct. When a man will 
 pusillanimously fly from the least threatening of danger, 
 we say he is a coward. When a person exhibits great at- 
 tachment and tenderness towards his wife and children, we
 
 WILL AND MORALS. 91 
 
 SSLJ lie is aff'ec'tiouate So of otlier qualities. And when a 
 man is disliouest in bis dealings, we estimate liiin as an im- 
 moral man. We regard bim with a kind of disgust, be- 
 cause tbis deficiency, more tbau any otber, renders bim 
 dangerous to society. But we ougbt to suppress tbis feel- 
 ing, if by so doing we can supply tbe defect Our treat- 
 ment ougbt to be that wbicli will best restore tlie deficient 
 facult\'. 
 
 43. Again it may be said, " Reason as much as you will, 
 I sball believe I am a free agent." I answer, no one has 
 disputed tbis, or wisbes to dispute it. Tbe question is not 
 wbetber i/ou are free, but wbetber your iviU is free from tbe 
 otber part of yourself, or tbe person. Writers agree tbat 
 all tbe processes of tbe vital economy of tbe buman .system, 
 botb physical and mental, e.Kcept tbat of volition, are con- 
 formed to an<l governed by tbe law of causation. But with 
 regard to tbe latter important mental ojieration, there has 
 ever been great diversity of opinion. Whatever the truth 
 may ultimately appear to be, a sincere and somewliat pa- 
 tient eflbrt has been made to ascerlain tbe truth in this mat- 
 ter, by investigating on tbe principle of observatiiju and in- 
 duction. Tbe writer was educated in tbe doctrine of free- 
 domists, which was at first cherished. But ere the close of 
 the course of lectures, he saw, or thought he saw, that 
 they did not analyze to ultimates; or produce sound argu- 
 ments to sustain their position. Years intervened before 
 tbe subject a|)peared in tbe light presented in the foregoing 
 work. And (if so much of personality may be excused) it 
 has l)een p/repared under very unfavorable circumstances. 
 Metaphysical treatises have generally been written bv those 
 who have taught mental philosophy for years in a colleo-e 
 or higher seminary. Without sucli an advantage, this has 
 been written while tbe author was borne down bv disease 
 and debility, and struggling to become established in an 
 arduous [)rof(;ssion, in which be bad had no pi-evious ex- 
 perience. This is not said to excuse errors in doctrine. If 
 the 2->'"i"c?7>/<^s are false no indulgence is craved or expected; 
 if the inodt' of Ihcir presiuildtioii is not as perfect as it might 
 have been, a generous public will do what is generous. 
 
 44. The writer intended to present an extended exam- 
 ination and comparison of the writings of John Locke 
 and Cousin, who have respectively stood at the bead of 
 English and French metaphysicians. But protracted ill-
 
 92 WII.I, AND MORALS. 
 
 Ik'hKIi i)ut it beyond his power to do so in time for tbis 
 editioD. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 PHRENOLOGY AND FREE WILL. 
 
 It may not be out of place, to make a few observations 
 resi)ectin<f tlie relations of the forej^oing doctrine of tbe 
 will, to the popular and wide-spreading system of phre- 
 nology. The essential propositions of phrenology are, that 
 the brain is the organ of the mind — that the ))ower and 
 liind of mental manifestation de|)end on its developments — 
 that each kind of mentality, as thought, emotion, and affec- 
 tion, has a particular origan, in a particular part of the 
 brain — that the relative strength of these mental faculties 
 depends on the size and activity of their respective organs — 
 that character and conduct depend on these latter, and 
 tliat a practiced and skillful phrenologist can ascertain these 
 with an accuracy sufficient for practical purposes, by pass- 
 ing the hands over the cranium. It must be obvious to 
 every one, that the action of these several organs, and the 
 external objects that excite them, constitute what metaphy- 
 sicians term the motive or antecedent to volition. It is 
 readily admitted that if volition is not caused, the relative 
 strength of these several faculties may be ascertained 
 phrenologically, without contradicting anything heretofore 
 advanced. President Mahan, who is an unswerving de- 
 fender of uncaused volition, uses the following language: 
 "Now, it is universally admitted by philosophers of all 
 schools, that in resi)ect to all states and acts of the physical 
 system, and also in respe(;t to all mental states, intentions 
 excepted, in respect to all states of the sensibility and in- 
 telligence, for example, man is wholh' subject to the law of 
 necessity'. In res{)ect to intentions [volitions] is he free" 
 (from causation). But with respect to volitions, physical 
 actions, and all those mental states, such as h.abitual charac- 
 ter and conduct, which are dependent on volition, no judg- 
 ment can be made, if volitions are absolutely' contingent, 
 and uncaused by these antecedent developments of thought
 
 WILL AND MORALS. 93 
 
 and feeling. It is only on the Lj'potbesis of an unvarying 
 connection between tbe external develojiments of tlie cra- 
 nium, and volition, tliat by examining the former, the lat- 
 ter, or anytliiijg dei>endent on it, can be ascertained. Now 
 if this connection, which constitutes the causation of voli- 
 tion, does not exist, the sphere of plirenology must be 
 narrowed so as to destroy its utility, if not its existence 
 as a science. 
 
 It is sometimes objected, both to phrenology and to the 
 doctrine of caused volition, "that frequently there is a sud- 
 den change of general volitions, of ciiaracter from bad to 
 good, and the reverse." True, but these changes are so 
 unfrequent as to be exceptions to the general rule, that 
 men will in the future exhibit the characteristics which they 
 have done in the past. Such is the prevalence of this rule, 
 that all prudent men readily trust the good man in various 
 ways, and refuse to trust the bad one. And generally there 
 is a full and apparent cause for this chiinge, in the external 
 relations and circumstances of the reformed person; and 
 where there is no such appareid cause, it is by no means 
 conclusive that one does not exist, in some unknown cir- 
 cumstances, or the internal working of his own mind. For 
 exaniple, an Irishman is in the habit of drinking to beastly 
 inebriation, whenever he can get sufficient whisky to pro- 
 duce it. But suddenh' he becomes temperate, and remains 
 so, through the most trying temptations. But the auspi- 
 cious change is fully accounted for by the fact, that Father 
 Mathew, by the charming spell of his reputation, elo- 
 quence, and goodness, induced him to take the pleilge of 
 total abstinence. If any such cause exists, tlie objection is 
 answei'ed; but if a case is jjointed out where no such exists, 
 apparent or latent, the objection is valid. 
 
 ->'^:^^:t7<^
 
 Scientific Indications of 
 Progression, 
 
 Delivered in Congress Hall, San Francisco, and Published in 1867. 
 
 Your attention is invited to a consideration of the uni- 
 versal law and fact of progression. By progression is meant 
 the continual passing of all forms of matter and being from 
 tbat which, reliitive to our finite minds, is cruder and 
 lower, to the refined and higlier — from the more simple to 
 the more complex. It may be well to note some of the 
 salient points in the unwritten history of nature's out- 
 growtli, which indicate the past action of this universal law, 
 unlimitated by time, unbounded by space, and which there- 
 fore includes humanity as an integral portion. 
 
 There are people of sharp powers of observation, who, 
 looking at past historic periods with that enchantment 
 which distance lends to the view, and seeing here and there 
 the decadence of families, tribes, and nations, feeling the 
 wide distance between the ideal and the actual standard of 
 moral attainment, and seeing the prevalence of want and 
 misery, vice and venality, really believe that man is retro- 
 grading. 
 
 Humanity's progression may be compared to a mighty 
 river, swollen by the rains or melting snows, as it rolls on 
 its resistless current from the mountains to the sea. Here 
 and there a rock, a headland, or a curve will form an edd}', 
 causing the drift-wood to float swiftly in a counter-current 
 toward the mountains. A short-sighted person, of dog- 
 matic mind, standing on the bank, would positively declare 
 that the course of the stream was toward the mountains;
 
 PROGRESSION. 95 
 
 but could his sight be extended, iind the range of his vision 
 complete, his misapprehensiou wouhl be corrected. 
 
 Should any one who has thoroughly grasi)ed tlie great 
 law of progression despair, deRi)ond, or even doubt the 
 future of humanity, either in this or spirit life, it may be 
 accepted as a sure evidence of an aggravated dyspepsia. It 
 it an exaggeration to say that, save our own existence, this 
 principle is the most precious boon that the past has be- 
 queathed to humanity'? It serves to keep up a buoyant 
 spirit, a lively hope, an abiding confidence, on which the 
 soul can sweetl_v repose when the foam-ca))j)ed billows 
 of adversity are dashing around, and our immediate exter- 
 nal environments would otherwise overwhelm us with 
 despair. 
 
 The subject divides itself into three parts: 
 
 I. Indications of ])rogress from Astronomy. 
 II. Indications of progress from Geology. 
 III. Indications of progress from Human History. 
 
 1. Indications from Astronomy. 
 
 We may include in this all that can be gathered in the 
 progress of matter from its diti'nsed, nebulous, vapory con- 
 dition, until it becomes segregated and assumes the globu- 
 lai form, with a central sun, revolving [jlanets, and attend- 
 ant satellites. 
 
 The first question that confronts us is, are these masses 
 of matter, which sparkle so beautifully in the depths of 
 space, composed essentially of tlie same materials, and con- 
 trolled by tlie same law o' gravitation as our own planet? 
 Fortunately the more recent attainments of astronomical 
 science have answered both of these questions in the atlirm- 
 ative. By the aid of tlie solar spectrum and spectroscope, 
 rays of light are analyzed and examined, and the constitu- 
 ent elements of the body emitting them determined. It is 
 thus known that our sun contains iron, soilium, potassium, 
 and other elements; and it is thus determined that the 
 bright star .Vreturus has constituent elements almost iden- 
 tical with our sun. And all stars indicate some of the ele- 
 ments common to our own globe. Thus the winged mes- 
 sengers — the rays of liglit from a twinkling star — Hying 
 across the abyss of space at the rate of 200, UOU miles in 
 a second, a rate that would leave the messages on our
 
 9(! PROGRESSION. 
 
 tele{,'i;i))li liiu^s laifpfiiifif Jit a siiiiil'H puce, after goin;^ for 
 tlioiisands — miv, tens of tlioiiHaiids of years, come to us la- 
 den with the intelliu'eiice tliat the ^(htbes sj)!irklinj^ in infi- 
 nite space, are linked to the great wliole by identity of 
 constituent elements. 
 
 2d. Does the same ])rincip]e of gravitation which holds 
 each particle of matter in its place on our earth, and the 
 earth, in its annual sweej) around the sun, also ol)taia 
 among the countless stars that glitter in the enipyreau 
 depths of space ? We are indebted for the affiimative an- 
 swer to this question to that vaiiety in unity, wdiicrh in the 
 minor unfoldments (jf nature aiibrds such pleasing gratifica- 
 tion to the esthetic taste. 
 
 All star systems are not, like ours, composed of a central 
 sun, and surrounding planets revolving in concentric or- 
 bits. If it were so, we should have no evidence of the con- 
 tinued operation of the law of gravitation beyond our sys- 
 tem; for such is the immense distance of these sparkling 
 orbs that even with the jiid of the most powerful telescope 
 yet in use, we are unable to discern the ])lanets of any sys 
 teni. Their existence is merged in that of their parent sun, 
 and a single orb is all that can be seen. But Sir William 
 Herschel discovered that a considerable proportion of the 
 tixed stars scattered through sjjace are systems of two, of 
 three, and sometimes more stars, revolving around a com- 
 mon center, thus demonstrating the universal prevalence of 
 the law of gravitation. It is a noteworthy circumstance, that 
 the latest discoveries of modern science should confirm — 
 what the intuitional, mediumistic mind of Pope perceived 
 200 years ago, when he wrote — 
 
 "All are but parts of fnie stupendous wliole. 
 Whose boily nature is, and God the soul." 
 
 When Lord Rosse's large telescope swept athwart the 
 heavens, and resolved nebulous appearances, one after an- 
 other, into clusters of stars, there was great exultation 
 among tlie opponents of the nebular hypothesis. They per- 
 sistently claimed that those nebular masses which appeared, 
 through the instrument, like clouds lioating on the dark 
 background of the sky, only required a more powerful tele- 
 scope to be resolved likewise into star clusters. But their 
 triumph, like that of the wicked in general, was short; for 
 Huggins, by an application of the prism and spectroscope
 
 PROGrESSION. 97 
 
 to the li^lit emitted L3' these nebuloe, has demonstrated 
 them to be not globes, but masses of cosmical vapor. How 
 grand tlie thought that the Milky Way, whose diameter 
 rays of light would be 1,000 years in traversing, going at 
 the rate of twelve millions of miles in a minute, is but an 
 aggregation of globes thrown oft" from a revolving mass of 
 primordial matter, like sjjray from a revolving grindstone. 
 I will present the nebular theory in the language of one 
 of or.r distinguished astronomers, to whose learning and 
 energy we are indebted for the Cincinmiti Observatory, and 
 who lost his life nobly battling for his country in the- hour 
 ofherpeiil. " Laplace, following up the siieculations of 
 Sir AVni. Herschel, applied the theory of that astronomer 
 to the formation of the solar system, comprehending the 
 comets as well as the planets and their satellites. The 
 theory supi)oses the original chaotic condition of the njatter 
 of all suns and worlds was nebulous, like the matter com- 
 posing the tails of comets. Under the laws of gravitation, 
 this nebulous lliiid, scattered throughout all space, com- 
 mences to condense towards certain centers. The particles 
 moving towards these central points not meeting with ecpial 
 velocities, and in opposite directions, a motion of rotation 
 is generated in the entire fluid mass, which in tigure ap- 
 proximates the si)iierical form. The spherical tigure once 
 formed, and rotation commenced, it is not difficult to con- 
 ceive how a system of planets might be produced from the 
 rot«ating mass, corresponding in nearly all resjK'cts to the 
 characteristics which distinguish the planets belonging to 
 our own system. If l)y radiation of heat this nebulous 
 mass should gradually contract in size, then a well-known 
 law of rotating bodies would insure an increased velocity of 
 rotation. This might continue until the centrifugal force, 
 which increases rapidly with the velocity of the revolving 
 body, would finally (;ome to be superi(n- to the force of 
 gravity at the equator, and from this region a belt oi neb- 
 ulous fluid wouhl thus be detached, in the form of a ring, 
 wlii('h would be left in space by the shrinking awiiy of I lie 
 central globe. The ring thus left wt)uld generally coalesce 
 into the globular form, and thus would present a i)lanet 
 with an orliit nearly, if not quite, circular, lying in a plane 
 nearly coincident with the plane of the e(pialor of the cen- 
 tral b()d\-, and revolving in its orbit in the same direction 
 in which the central globe rotates on its axis.
 
 9S PROGRESSION. 
 
 "As the f,'lol)e gmdually contructs, its velocity of rotation 
 continimlly increasing', another ring of matter may be 
 thrown off, and another planet formed, and so on, until the 
 cohesion of tlie particles of the central mass may finally be 
 able to resist any further change, and the process ceases. 
 The ])lanetary masses, while in the act of cooling and con- 
 densing, niu}' produce satellites in the same manner, and by 
 the operation of the same laws b}' which they were them- 
 selves formed. There are many facts which tend strongly 
 to give this theory more than probability. It accounts for 
 all the great features of the solar system, which in its or- 
 ganization presents the most induVntable evidence that it 
 has resulted from the operation of some gi'eat law. The 
 sun rotates on an axis in tlie same direction in which the 
 planets revolve in their orl)its; the planets all rotate on their 
 axis in the same direction; they circulate around the sun, 
 in orbits nearly circular, in the same direction, and planes 
 nearly coincident with the plane of the sun's equator. The 
 satellites of all the planets, with one exception, revolve in or- 
 bits nearly circular, but little inclined to the equator of 
 their primaries, and in the same direction as the planets. So 
 far as their rotation on an axis has been ascertained, they fol- 
 low the general law. In one instance alone we find the 
 rings of matter have solidified in cooling, without breaking 
 up or becoming glol)ular bodies. TLiis is found in the rings 
 of Saturn, which i)resent the very characteristics which 
 would flow from their formation, according to the preced- 
 ing theory. They are flat and thin, and revolve on an axis 
 nearly, if not exactly, coincident with that of their planet. 
 Their stability is guaranteed by conditions of wonderful 
 complexity and delicacy, and the adjustment of the rings to 
 the planet (humanly speaking) would seem to be impossi- 
 ble after the formation of the planet. At least it is beyond 
 our power to conceive how this could be accomplished by 
 any law of which we have any knowledge. * * Grant- 
 ing the formation of a single sun by the nebular theor}', and 
 we account at once for the formation of all other suds and 
 systems throughout all space; and according to this theory, 
 the comets have their origin in nebulous nnitter, occupying 
 positions intermediate between two or more great centers, 
 and held nearly in eqiiilibrio, until tinally the attraction of 
 some one center predominates, and this uncondensed, lilmy 
 mass commences slowly to descend toward its controlling
 
 PROGRESSION. 9JI 
 
 orb. This tbeoiy would seem to be sustained — so far as a 
 single tr'Jtli can sustain any theory — by the fact that the 
 comets come into our system from all possible directions, 
 and pursue their couises around the sun, either in accord- 
 ance with, or o])posed to, the direction in which the plan- 
 ets circulate. Tlieir uncondensed or nel)u]ous ct)nditiou 
 results from the feeble central attraction which must neces- 
 sarily exist in bodies composed of such small quantities of 
 matter. Moreover, iti some cases at least, there is reason 
 to believe that in their passage around the sun they are en- 
 tirely dissipated into vapor, and may thus revolve for ages, 
 going through alternations of solidificatiou and evapora- 
 tions." Such is a brief statement of the theory that some 
 of our first astronomers declare moi-e tJian pvubahle. 
 
 It is probable that the ])heiiomena of meteoric showers, 
 occasionally ai)pearing about the thirteenth of November, 
 and ai>pareiitly radiating from a common center, are caused 
 b}' a small incipient i)laiiet of nebulous matter impinging on 
 pur atmosphere, and jjortions becoming ignited by atmos- 
 pheric friction, as sparks fly from steel in contact with re- 
 volving emery. Another analogous supposition is that it 
 is caused by the minute asteroids, the fragments of an ex- 
 j)loded planet, once between Mars and Jupiter. Through 
 what changes or retining processes this cosmical vapor has 
 passed, in the boundless depths of anterior eternity, is 
 probably beyond profitable conjecture. But it appears, 
 with all the force of a corollary, that as the acorn contains 
 in embryonic potentiality all the qualities of the full grown 
 oak — that is, the power to evolve in connection with favora- 
 ble conditions of soil and atmos|ihere — so this nebulous 
 matter contains potentially all the beautiful forms unfolded 
 by a mature globe, with all its flora, its fauna, and the hu- 
 man soul its crowning ultimate. 
 
 There remains to examine one class of phenomena whieli 
 have appeared as landmarks, or at least hints and iinlica- 
 tious of the vast, changes tiiat have taken place along down 
 the stream of time. I refer to the appearance of new stars 
 in the vacant ]>ortions of space and the permanent disap- 
 pearance of old ones. More than two thousand years ago 
 the Greek astronomer, Hii)parchus, who naujed and num- 
 bei'ed over one thousand stars, was astonislied to find a 
 brilliant star burst ui)on his view at a point in the heavens 
 wliere none had existed before. But as scientific observa-
 
 100 PnOORESSlON. 
 
 tion has l)ooii inoro full in mo'lfiii tiin^s, cases of tliis Iviiid 
 are ficqnent, well inaiked, and estahlislied lieyond a donl)t. 
 
 Another class of plienoniena will be best dencribcd by the 
 folluwiu<>' case: In lo7*2 a new star of pi eat splendor ap- 
 peareil suddenly in the constellation Cassiopeia, occupying 
 a position wliicli had previously been blank. This extraor- 
 dinary appeararice so excited the interest of Tycho Brahe, 
 the Danish astronomer, that he gave it his most unremit- 
 ting attention. Its mngnitude increased until it surpassed 
 Jupiter in splendor arid tinally l)ecarae visible in the day- 
 time. It rt-tained its greatest magnitude only a ver}' short 
 tinje, wlien it commenced to decline in brilliancy, changing 
 from wjjite to yellow, then to reddish, and finally it Itecame 
 faintly blue; and so diminishing by degrees it vanished 
 from sight and has never since been seen. 
 
 While new and brilliant stars have occasionally appeared 
 to astonish, ])erchance to instruct n)aiikind, there are many 
 well-authenticated cases of the entire disappearance of old 
 ones whose places had been fixed with undoubted certainty. 
 In KiDO Sir \Vm. Herschel observed Star No. 55 in the con- 
 stellation Hercules, but since that time no search has been 
 able to detect it. The star is gone and its place remains a 
 blank. Stars 80 and 81, both of the fourth magnitude in 
 the same constellation, have likewise disappeai^ed. Exam- 
 ples might be multiplied, but it is unnecessary to my pur- 
 })ose. I will present one other recent case, together with the 
 light which late scientific discoveries have thrown ujion it, 
 before offering a few suggestions ujion these scientific facts, 
 which will close the first division of this essay. 
 
 In the month of May, 180(i, the astronomers of various 
 observatories in Europe and America were astonished at 
 beholding a star in the constellation of the Northern Crown 
 rai)idiy increase in size and brilliancy, passing in two weeks 
 from the eighth to the second magnitude. Having attained 
 its nuiximum, its decrease was nearly as rapid as had been 
 its increase. It was ascertained beyond doubt by observa- 
 tions upon its spectrum that the star was actually' wrapped 
 in flames. Confirmatory results were obtained at the Royal 
 Observatory of Greenwich, the Imperial Observatory of 
 Paris, and several others. 
 
 A full account of this remarkable occurrence can be found 
 in the October number of the Ed^'clic Marjazine, in an arti- 
 cle entitled, "A Star on Fire."
 
 PROGRESSION. 101 
 
 We find that nature in her ceaseless efforts towards 
 hi^dier forms is very prolific of new births. In the ve<i;-e- 
 table world there are vastly more blossoms tlion ever attain 
 to mature fruit. As we ascend to the animal kinj^dom we 
 find the efforts of nature towards reproduction are still 
 more prolific. Should each embryonic spawn become a 
 mature fish, the rivers, lakes, and ocean borders woidd 
 become crowded to repletion. Even in the hij^her types oi 
 heii\{j::, with all the care that affection can bestow, jiided by 
 the light of experience and science, a considerable pait f)f 
 humanity shufHe of the mortal coil in infancy and chil 1- 
 booil. Is it, not fair to extend this analog}' to the birth of 
 worlds? — for the infinite aii'l the infinitesimal aie subjects 
 of the sanje law. May we not suppose that in the forma- 
 tion of a world, owing to some detect in its organization or 
 the presence of explosive gases in its central cavity, before 
 the crust is sufficiently hardened to insure permanence, the 
 internal molten mass buists forth, presenting to the as- 
 tronomer tlie awfully grand and sublime spectacle of a star 
 S3"stem, perh.-ips much laiger than our own, with its planets 
 and at tendant. satellites, enveloped in the flames of chem- 
 ical decomposition, dissi|i;iting its substance, again to l)e 
 min;^led with cosmical nebulie, and thus wait for the prog- 
 ress of lime to produce a morn auspicious effort. As was 
 beautifully expressed two hundred years ago: 
 
 " Who sees witii equal eye as (]0<1 of all, 
 A hero peiisli oi- a .s[)aiiow fall — 
 Atoms or systems into ruin liurled, 
 Ami now a ijuiiMc hursts, and now a woild." 
 
 That which was good poetry then, is an establislicd truth 
 of science to-day. 
 
 Let us considerfor a moment tho-ic worlds that l)ave Ironi 
 time to time astonished astronomers by their appearance in 
 the vacant fields of spacte. 
 
 We find in nature's unroldtncnts exceptional oiscs of 
 growth I have this autumn seen iipple trees in fidl beuiing 
 of ex(;ellent fruit, witli here and tliereu blossom, and others 
 with small apples of the second growth. So, may not ilie 
 waste s(;raps of cosmical vapor, left from the first gr.-wth of 
 worlds, have a rotary motion, generated by causes which we 
 call accidental, which shall go on increasing in extent and 
 23ower until a new woild is born into the great lamily of
 
 102 PROGUESSION. 
 
 orl)H? Nny, more: Ah tlie junii) of ji stjuinol in a snow- 
 clad mountain will somctinics start a jiollet of snow, which, 
 as it rolls down tlio mount.-iin side, increases in a geometri- 
 cal ratio, until a mighty avalanche is j)recipitated into the 
 vallej' below; so may not an angelic circle direct a shaft of 
 magnetism upon some portion of a field of nebulous matter, 
 thus generating a rotary motion that shall go on until a sun 
 is launclied into being, witli all its })lanets revolving around 
 it; which time shall peoj)le with a ra(;e of beings more moral, 
 more healtldul, more harmoniovis and more happ}- than the 
 inhabitants of this insignificant ball shall attain to for ages 
 to come? 
 
 Should these suggestions apj^ear wild and extravagant, let 
 them not detract from tlje value of the sterling scientific 
 facts presented. 
 
 •^:>^>^V?:7<^
 
 THE 
 
 Religion of Progression, 
 
 As the matter of wiiicli the eartli is composed became 
 separated, it assumed the splielical furjii, and it has been 
 matheiuaticall}' deuioustrated that it has the sai)ie form — be- 
 ing flattened at the poles and [)rotuberant at tlie equator — 
 that a molten mass would assume, when revolving at the 
 rate that the earth is known to rotate on its axis. As lias 
 been beautifully expressed: 
 
 "Tliat very law whicli moulds a tear, 
 And l)i(ls it trickle from its source, 
 
 Tliat law preserves the earth a sphere, 
 And f^uides the planets in their course." 
 
 The molten mass radinted its heat until a crust of rock 
 was foi'med upon its surface; radiation still went on, and as 
 the internal mass shrunk, the external crust followed it, 
 throwing up mountain ranges like ridges on a baked apple. 
 These ridges were subjected to the contitiued wear of the ele- 
 ments, which may have been more active at that early i)eriod 
 than now, and the valleys jjartly tilled with detritus and 
 sedimentary deposits. Thus the earth was slowly ))repared 
 for the lower types of vegetable and aninnil existences. The 
 record of the gradual evolution of animal life on our planet 
 must necessarily' be exceedingly fragmentary, leaving almost 
 every position open to ol)jection. Two-thirds of the earth's 
 surface is covered with water; but a small portion of the 
 laud has been examined by the geologist, and as the sur- 
 face has been changed by successive elevations and de- 
 pressions, and as but a small portion of animal remains
 
 10-4 i'i;o(HiEssioN. 
 
 were fossilized, and sis much of tlie earlier fossils have been 
 worn away or destroyed by tbe heated mass within, it is 
 evident that a continuous record of the gradations of life 
 can never be had. Yet p;eo](><^y has furnished us with suf- 
 ficient facts to lead the comprehensive mind to the C(jnclu- 
 sion that life on this planet has proceeded from the lower 
 forms or types, by a more or less re^-'ular gradation, to the 
 hi;^her iind more complex. The leadin|n; facts, that in the 
 oldest fossiliferous rock are found remains of invertebrates 
 and cephelopods — animals like the cuttle-fish, with feet at- 
 tached to the head — and that man is the last of the series; 
 that of the mammalia, the marsuj)ial, with i)ouch like the 
 opossum, the lowest type ai)peared first; while, again, man, 
 the highest type of the mammalia, appeared last, all ))Mint 
 to the same conclusion. I cannot better prove and il- 
 lustrate this position than to quote a passage from Hugh 
 Miller's "Foot-Prints of the Creator," and it will have all 
 the more weight with some minds that the author lived and 
 died, or at least became insane, in the orthodox faith: "It 
 is of itself an extraordinary fact, that the order adopted by 
 Cuvier, in»his Animal Kingdom, as that in which the four 
 great classes of vertebrate animals, when marshaled ac- 
 cording to their rank and standing, naturally range, shcjuld 
 be also that in which they occur in the order of time. The 
 brain, which bears an average proportion to the spinal 
 cord of not more than two to one, comes first — it is the 
 brain of the fish; that which bears an average to the spinal 
 cord of two and a half to one, succeeds it — it is the brain 
 of the reptile; then came the brain averaging as three to 
 one — it is that of the bird; next in succession came the 
 brain that averages as four to one — it is that of the animal; 
 and last of all there appeared a brain that averages as 
 twenty-three to one — reasoning, calculating man had come 
 upon the scene." The same doctrine is advanced by Agas- 
 siz, who declares that " within the limits of the orders of 
 each great class, there is a coincidence between their rank 
 in organization, and the order of succession of their rep- 
 resentatives in time." 
 
 There are three theories of the manner in which new 
 species of life have been introduced. The Darwinian 
 thi-ory — that each species has been produced by the natural 
 selection and union of the more favored individuals of the 
 next lower species. 2. That there exist in nature monads
 
 PE0GUES8I0N. 105 
 
 or fi^errn cells which, under favorable conditions, possess 
 the inherent power of developing- into a higher s])ecies. 
 3. That each species is ])rodiiced by a S|)ecial act of cre- 
 ation exerted by a being residing outside of nature. The 
 advocates of the latter method often object to the theory 
 of the development of a higher from the next lower species 
 that there are no facts to support it; forgetting that this 
 view would involve for living and extinct species, both ani- 
 mal and vegetable, four million separate acts of creation 
 with neither reason ma- u single fact to support it; only an 
 Oriental myth to which no intelligent sectary would ven- 
 ture to give a literal inter])retation — a mytli which repre- 
 sents that God, standing outsitle of nature, labored indus- 
 triously six days to create the sun, the moon, the stars, the 
 ejirih, and the progenitors of animals to inhabit it; became 
 fatigued, rested on tlie seventh; and that afterwards, when 
 man, not behaving as well as he had anticipated, became 
 derelict in his morals, repented that he had made him aiid 
 yri'vrd himxi'lf U, the. h<^art. 
 
 Having thus presented a synopsis of the evidence to sub- 
 stMutiate the gieat fact that the external world has reached 
 its present condition by an ascending series of growths, so 
 we are led to the irresistible conclusion that the spiritual 
 or leligious life of the race, which is but an outgrowth or 
 higher unfoldiiig of the physical, is subject to the same law; 
 that the spiritual and religious growth of Man — and b}' re- 
 ligion is meant simply a knowledge of our spirit life here 
 and liereafier, coupled with a practical soul-culture — that 
 the spiritujil growth of man has passed with him through 
 an ascending series of unfoldments or dispensations as he 
 has passed from the saviige to the civilized condition; that 
 he commenced in a sinii)le, intuitional belief in a future 
 life, witlnnit knowledge, and at each new religion or dis- 
 ])cnsation some error is discarded and some truth added; 
 and as the animal series has terminated and culminated 
 man as the highest ])Ossible product of nature, so the reli- 
 gious has at length terminated in spiritualism, wliich re- 
 solves every l>elief into knowledge-, and ever^' sjiecial ))rov- 
 jdem-e, every condition of spirit life, into fixed law. Spir- 
 itualism is not a sect, but a new religion; and according to 
 the great fact and law of piogression, that it is the last 
 vouchsiifed to man, is conclusive that it is the best, and 
 that it refers everything to fixed law, shows that it must
 
 106 PKOOKESSION. 
 
 termiimto the series, for no uiifoldmeiit can f(o bejond tbis. 
 Tbere will be work ejiouf,'b for future a^'es to learu and ap- 
 ply to bumau use individual laws, but tbe ultimate princi- 
 ple is attained. 
 
 Tbis ^'reat fact we may find illustrated by nature's pro- 
 cesses in tbe growtb of tbe individual. Nature kindly 
 supplies cbildljood witb a temptnary set of teetb to su)>ply 
 tbe needs of tbat early period; but bein<^ incapable of that^ 
 expansion necessary to adapt tbeni to mature growth, sbe 
 absorbs awaj' tbe roots to give place to the germs beneath 
 to furnisb the j)ermanent dentition. So ever}' system of 
 religion anterior to spiritualism ma}' be considered as a pro- 
 visional arrangement to meet tbe devotional needs of tbe 
 cliildbood of the race, and likewise, to continue tbe analogy, 
 as they are incapable of tbat expansion necessary to adapt 
 them to tbe maturity of tbe race, tbey must all be absorbed 
 away b}' nature's beautiful process, from the roots upwards, 
 to give ])lace to the permanent religion of spiritualism. 
 
 The physical sciences have all passed through the same 
 phases of belief and supposition, and at length terminated 
 in fixed law. In the dark ages supposititious alchemy was 
 pursued with great zeal. Men spent their lives in futile ef- 
 forts to find the universal solvent and methods of transmit- 
 ting the baser to the more valuable metals; but these strug- 
 gles resulted in the beautiful and mathematically exact 
 science of chemistry; so supposititious and fruitless astrology 
 culminated in the beautiful science of astronomy. 
 
 Your attention is invited to the elucidation of these views. 
 All barbarous and savage |ieople attribute the ordinary occur- 
 rences of life to supernatural agencies; thus, ordiuiiry and 
 extraordinary diseases, peace and war, floods and droughts, 
 the abundance or scarcity of food, are all attributed to the 
 agency of their good or bad deities. Gradually, as we de- 
 scend the stream of time, and trace the slow unfoldment of 
 man's higher intelligence, we find the supposed sphere of 
 natural law to widen, and the sphere of tbe supernatural to 
 diminish, until at length, in the full blaze of tbe scientific 
 i:)rogress of the nineteenth century, the searching and com- 
 prehensive intellect of the great savant, Humboldt, antici- 
 ]iated the position that has been popularized by spiritualism, 
 when he wrote in his Cosmos: " We become more and more 
 convinced that the forces inherent in matter, and those 
 which govern the moral world, exercise their action under
 
 PllOGHKSSION. 107 
 
 the control of primonliul nocessit}' or fixed law." And this 
 is the true measure of the stage of advancement of any age 
 or any people; the extent to which they are able to trace 
 those plienomena outworking in their own being and sur- 
 roundings, to nature's immutable laws. Hence it follows, 
 speaking in general terms, the religion of any people must 
 bear some correspondence to their intellectual and physical 
 attainments. And that it is practically' impossible to en- 
 graft the religion of civilization upon savage or barbarous 
 nations, any farther than they are elevated by a simultane- 
 ous introduction of the arts, the sciences, the industries, 
 and the education of that civilization. The missionary ef- 
 forts of near two centuries have resulted in little good but 
 to allbrd a striking evidence of this position. The assump- 
 tion of old theology is, that the 8crii)tures contain a revela- 
 tion direct from the Supreme Deity, of a perfect rule of re- 
 ligious faith and practice; from this it follows that it must 
 eventually be accepted l)y all j^eople. Hence, in obedience 
 to the command of their Master, to "go into all the world 
 and preach the gospel to ever}' creature," hundreds of i)ious 
 men and women have gone; some with heroic devotion and 
 self-sacrifice, others with sordid, self-seeking, to carry this 
 universal religion to the savage and barbarous nations of 
 the earth. The.'^eenteri)rises have been liberally supported by 
 the stated contributions of the pious, from the wealthy metro- 
 politan church to the obscure parish of the rural districts. 
 But the results have never been adequate to the efforts put 
 forth. In fact it has been a magnificent failure — all state- 
 ments in the monthly concerts of i)rayer for the heathen to 
 the contrar}' notwithstanding. This position is so impor- 
 tant, that I crave your indulgence while I substantiate it by 
 some authorities, which will hardly be gainsaid by secta- 
 rians. The Rev. Justus Doolittle, for fourteen years a mis- 
 sionary of tlie American Board of Foreign Missions, in a 
 work on Cliina, says: " To make a single convert cost 
 seven years' labor at Canton, and nine at Fuhschan; and it 
 was twenty-eight years ere a church was organized. Out of 
 four hundred million souls, there are as yet less than fhree 
 thousand converts, as the result of the labors of two hun- 
 dred missionaries, after sixty years of eftbrt." 
 
 Sir Archibald Allison, a truthful historian, who, in com- 
 prehensive description, is second only to Macaulay, in his His- 
 tory of Europe siys; " Great have been the efforts maile,
 
 108 PIIOGKESSION. 
 
 both by the Protestaut and Koraaii Catholic churches, ch- 
 ])eciftlly of hite yeiirs, to diffuse the tenets of their resi)ec- 
 tive faiths in heathen lands; but, with the exception of 
 some Catholic missions of South America, without the suc- 
 cess that was anticipated, at least in the outset. Sectarian 
 zeal lias united with Christian ])hilanthropy in forwarding 
 the j,'reat undertakinpf; the British and Foreij^'n Bible So- 
 ciety has rivaled in activity the ])roi)agauda of Rome, and 
 the expenditure of £100,000 annually on the enlightenment 
 of foreign lauds has aiVoided a magnificent proof of devout 
 zeal auil British liberality. But no great or decisive effects 
 have as j'et followed these efforts; no new nations have 
 been converted to Christianity; the conversion of a few 
 tribes, of which much has been said, appears to be little 
 more than nominal; and the durable spread of the gospel 
 has been erenndwe co-f.rfensive oiibj with that oftlie EnropHan 
 race. The religion which obtains a lasting place in a coun- 
 try is often to be regarded as an eftect rather than a cause. 
 It is the consequence of a predisposition of the general 
 mind which leads to tiie embracing of doctrines or forms." 
 
 But the successful conversion of the Sandwich Islanders 
 has long been the stock in trade of the missionary zealot, in 
 prompting the faithful to more liberal contributions to the 
 missit)nary funds. But these sectarian pretensions are all 
 corrected by the truthful statements of Mark Twain (Sam 
 Clemens) that " forty years ago Hawaii contained two hun- 
 dred thousand people — now about twenty thousand, and 
 the population annually decreasing. There are three deaths 
 to one birth. Thus we see nine-tenths have perished since 
 the commencement of missions." These simple facts speak 
 volumes in support of our position, and show that the kana- 
 kas, with all the sanctifying influences of this universal re- 
 ligion, like all savage people, when brought in close con- 
 tact with civilized man, so take on his vices, without his 
 moial stamina, as to surely dwindle towards practical ex- 
 termination. 
 
 It is a further confirmation of this view that most nations 
 wlnle pas.sing through a semi-civilized stage of unfoldmeut, 
 should adopt the astronomical system of religion. It seems 
 to be the natural order of the develoj^ment of the human 
 mind, when its powers of comprehension are enlarged, on 
 beholding that the sun is far superior to any power located on 
 earth — that it is the source from which emanate lisrht and
 
 PROGHESSION. 109 
 
 heat, which prompts the fertility of the soil, from which 
 man draws his sustenance — that this incon)prehensible ))ower 
 should become the object of relir;;ious worshij). Accordinj^dy 
 we find that in the Egyptian valh^y of the Nile, the Per- 
 sians OM the plains about the Euphrates and the Tigris, the 
 inhabitants of India, the Aztecs of Mexico, and the Incas of 
 Peru, all adojjted an almost identical systenj of religion, 
 which consisted in worshiping the sun, the moon, and the 
 starry firmament. These nations could scarcely have de- 
 rived their religion one from the other, nor can it fairly be 
 refeired to an accidental coincidence, when we consider 
 that the peoi)le of Mexico and Peru grew up in isolated 
 positions, widely separated from all advanced nations, and 
 wholly cut ofT from intercourse with any peo}ile advanced 
 beyond the savage condition. So strong was this tendency 
 among the Hebrews when they left Egypt, that to break it 
 up Moses inade it a capital offense to worship the sun, the 
 moon, and the stars. 
 
 Another resultant of progression is this: that if, owing 
 to those constant fluctuations, actions, and reactions, tliat 
 constantly occur throughout every department of nature, 
 the intellectual develo})ment of any people has outgrown 
 the spiritual, a strong tendency to equilibrium will render 
 a new spiritual growth inevitable. Such a condition of 
 things exists at the present time. The spiritual growth of 
 the civilized world is from one to two centuries behind the 
 intellectual; and consequently religion is behind natural 
 science, and the mechanic appliances to supply the exter- 
 nal comforts of life. Hence we are in the midst of the 
 throes of a transition period from a lower to a higher plane 
 of spiritual unfoldmeiit. This movement is the result of 
 the all-pervadii)g spiritual forces of our world. No 
 power can arrest or stay its progress; it will carry humanity 
 upon the ceaseless waves of spiritual ])rogression towards 
 the goal of more comjilete individualization of each, and 
 the fraternal unity of all. By this intellectual development 
 the powers of reason and criticism have become so increased 
 that those evidences which, in the main, have satisfied i)re- 
 vious generations of the great fact of a future life no longer 
 suflice. And unless new evidence had been presented, 
 which addressed itself to the reason and senses of every 
 sincere atul ])ersevering investigator, the belief in a future 
 life would "fraduullv have faded from human consciousness.
 
 110 PROGRESSION. 
 
 But nature is true to liorself. When this need was fully 
 developed, the s})irilnal plieiioinenu appeared as a general 
 movement to supply- such evidence of spirit life as is adapted 
 to the intellectual requirements of the aiije. 
 
 It may be asked, Wliy did not spiritualism appear before? 
 Why were those extraordinary luaiiifeHtations reserved for 
 the last half of the nineteenth century? If these questions 
 were asked b}'^ an old theolo^Man, I should answer. For the 
 same reason that the reveal luents of Moses were not given 
 to Adam or Noah, or Christianity to the Hebrew slaves of 
 Egypt. If ail}' other should ask these questions, I should 
 answer. For the same reason that a period of which we can 
 conceive no beginning passed before the matter composing 
 our earth assumed the globular form; for the same reason 
 that the earth pursued her annual journey around the sun 
 for untold ages ere man made his appearance. It is fitting 
 that the same century that has witnessed the general appli- 
 cation of steam to mechanical labor — that has made the civ- 
 ilized world one network of railroads and telegraph lines; 
 nay, it is fit that the decade which has spanned the deep 
 vallej's, the oozy plains, the rocky hills under the surging 
 waters of the Atlantic, b}' a cable through which messages 
 of intelligence, of affection, of joy, and perchance of sorrow, 
 are transmitted with lightning speed, should also unfold to 
 waiting humanity the relations of the spirit world and the 
 law of spirit intercourse. True spiritualism is as old as hu- 
 manity. So the diastole and systole motion of the heart 
 propelled the blood in its ceaseless circuit through the 
 veins, the capillaries, and the arteries of the human system 
 before Harvey made that fact known to the scientific world. 
 So the jdauets revolved about theii- primaries for countless 
 ages before Copernicus, Kepler, Gallileo, and Newton re- 
 vealed the facts and the laws to the human consciousness. 
 History is replete with spiritual |)henomeua of which ihe text- 
 books of the schools and all the systems of metaphysical 
 philosophy which have succeeded' and demolished each 
 other from the days of Ari.stotle to Herbert Spencer afford 
 no solution — nay, cast not a ray of light upon — which are 
 all made plain to the comprehension of a child b}- spiritual 
 facts and philosophy. Take the frequent occurrence of dis- 
 tinct impressions of the death of a near rehitive at a dis- 
 tance of hundreds of miles. Nothing is more natural than 
 that a person dying, especially if separated from friends
 
 PROGHESSION. Ill 
 
 and relatives, should thiuk, while passing the great changes, 
 of the one he most loves, and should strongly desire tiie 
 loved one's presence. As the s|)irit is se2)arated from the 
 body tliis desire becomes a mcjtive power, carrying the per- 
 haj)S scarcely conscious spirit with great rapidity till it im- 
 pinges on the spirit of the loved one, imparting so much of 
 its magnetism as to create the impression of the change 
 through which the spirit of tlie relative has passeil. Sjnrit- 
 ualism renders this entire class of cases entirely phiin, while 
 ever}' other system of meiital philosophy leaves it in utter 
 darkness. 
 
 Again; take tlie large class of cases of warnings of ap- 
 proaching danger. These abundant, well-authenticated 
 cases are wholly inexplicable by any system of phik)Soi>liy 
 recorded in history anterior to the spiritual philosoidiy, 
 whiclj renders them as plain as any scientific fact. Stilling 
 relates that Professor Bolim, teacher of mathematics at 
 Marburg, while taking tea with company away from home, 
 felt a sudden impulse to go liome and remove his bed from 
 the side of the room where it had stood, to another )iart of 
 the room. Although no reason was given for it, the im- 
 ])ression was so strong that he could have no peace until he 
 went. He went home, had the bed removed, and returned 
 to spend the remainder of the evening. Tliat night about 
 two o'clock he was awakened by a loud crash, when, on 
 looking, he beheld a large beam, which had fallen, with 
 part of the ceiling, lying across the spot from which he had 
 ren)oved his bed. 
 
 Tlie following account I wrote down from the lips of the 
 narrator, Henry Lewis, a truthful and reliable man: He 
 was a pioneer in tiie early settlement of the town of La 
 Grange, in northern Ohio. He had settled his family on a 
 homestead covered with the original forest of beech, maple, 
 hickory, oak, and other trees. He had formed a plan of 
 felling several trees so as to throw the branches and trunks 
 into a pile for burning, after the manner of woodnjen, and 
 commenced chop))ing the tirst tree. He was suddenly seized 
 witli an impulse to leave the tree. Altiiough no reason 
 was given for it, the im|)ressinn was so strong that he went, 
 but after considering tliat that was the tree to be felled 
 first, returned to his labor. Again the impression seized 
 him, stronger titan before. Obedient to tne mysterious 
 impulse, he walked away again, when a large dry limb was
 
 H2 r'UfxnticseiON. 
 
 loosened from its lodpfinent in tlie braiiclifts and came 
 down wliizziiig tliion^li tlio foliu^^f; and struck directly in tlie 
 trardvs where lie had stood, with snllictient force to Ijave 
 killed him instantly. These cases occurred lonj,' anterior 
 to the modern manifestations, but if we admit the teaching 
 of our beautiful faith — that we are attended through our 
 earth life by guardian spirits attracted to us by afl'ection; or 
 to get that experience which an early death has denied them 
 in the usual manner, and that these spirits, seeing clearer 
 than we, and beholding the condition of their protege, 
 made extraordinary exertions to warn him of impending 
 danger — and the solution of the mystery is complete. 
 
 In conclusion, allow me to make an obvious inference, 
 that the human soul, being the highest product of nature's 
 xiufoldment, is in its essential essence pure and perfect; 
 that its condition here is owing to those limitations, arrest- 
 ments, and obstructions it has met with in the external 
 conditions of its growth; and as all the improvements 
 which have been made in the flowers that beautify the face 
 of nature, and all the fruits and cereals that fill the land 
 with abundance, have resulted from carefully studying na- 
 ture's laws and methods and working with and assisting 
 her, so it must be in the higher departments of morals and 
 religion. 
 
 Let us not be deceived or disheartened at the apparently 
 slow progress of humanity in substantial morality. Go 
 look at the sun for five minutes and j'ou cannot perceive 
 that be has moved in his daily journey athwart the firma- 
 ment; but remember that five minutes is, beyond compar- 
 ison, longer, compared to a da}', than the life of an indi- 
 vidual is compared to the life of the race, which competent 
 geologists estimate already to have been 100,000 years. 
 
 " Let us tlien be up and doing, 
 
 Witli a heai-t for any fate; 
 Still achieving, still pursuing. 
 
 Learn to labor and to wait." 
 
 As all things, from the vast to the minute, are contin- 
 ually progressing, we, too, must industriously push forward 
 or inevitably be left in the rear. 
 
 " Nations may fall t<> rise no more. 
 Vet sounding on old Ocean's shore. 
 Amid the vast infinitude, 
 Is (xod's eternal interlude, 
 On! — forever on! '"
 
 The Coming Religion, 
 
 A DRAMATIC ALLEGORY BY DR. JOHN ALLYX. 
 
 Pdblished 1882. 
 
 The "Vision of Aldebeiau," on our first page, is recom- 
 lueiided to the reader's attention as an interesting and a 
 more than cursor}' ghiuce in the direction of " Tiie Coining 
 Religion" — though it fails to present prominent!}' one 
 characteristic which must predominate in " the good time 
 coming:'" which is, the sentiment of Universal Brother- 
 hood, or interest in and care for the welfare of each other. 
 — Bonner of Lu/Iil, September 0, 18S2. 
 
 [Introduction. — What is stated in this allegory in regard 
 to its production is substantially true, though varied imma- 
 terially for the sake of brevity and interest. I have en- 
 deavored to put it in an attractive form, for even the dia- 
 mond depends somewhat on its setting for the effect it may 
 jiroduce. If you do not approve of the setting, do not 
 throw away the diamond. More than four months before 
 a word was written I was assured that a band of spirits in- 
 tended to make an important communication through my 
 mediiimship. This wjis written on a slate, in broad day, 
 by no human hand, according to the most critical investi- 
 gation — attested by my ears and my eyes. I had not the 
 slightest idea what I could write. In fact, it seemed im- 
 ])ossible that I could ])roiluce anytliing of value or interest. 
 This was followed up for four months, through diflerent 
 mediums, all to the same import. I am not conscious of 
 any desire to make money or fame out of this, but only 
 Lope it may benefit my fellow beings. I make this state- 
 ment in regard to this extraordinary production because it 
 is true, knowing that the matter contained in the article 
 must stand on its intrinsic merit. — John Allyn. I
 
 114 THE COMING UEUOION. 
 
 THE VISION OF ALDEBERAN. 
 
 Iiivocalion: 
 
 (iuaidian spirits, from danger defend us; 
 111 tliis iin[)erfcct state amend us; 
 Help us to form a grand ideal, 
 And strive to make its beauties real. 
 So shall we walk life's dubious ways 
 Until the dawn of brighter days. 
 
 Prelude: 
 
 Friends of earth, we come to meet you, 
 And most happy are to greet you ; 
 A happy band of teachers we, 
 Two are men, and we are three. 
 
 From far-off worlds we've come to teach 
 Truths for earnest souls to preach; 
 We've come to aid religion's Ijirth, 
 The last that e'er will come to earth. 
 
 Give ear, kind friends, and listen well 
 
 While we our wondrous story tell; 
 
 A happy band of teachers we, 
 
 Two are men, and we are three. 
 
 The other is an angel pure, 
 
 Whose kindly words will long endure. 
 
 On one of those delicious evenings of May, when it is a 
 pleasure to be in the open air, as I was reclining on a bam- 
 boo lounge in front of my humble home, I queried if the 
 stars which shone so beautifully were inhabited by beings 
 of the human type; and if so, what the condition of society 
 is in those various worlds. My mind was pained and op- 
 pressed at the Condition of the children of the earth as I 
 contemplated the wars, crimes of every grade, suicides, in- 
 sanity, avoidable diseases and premature deaths; how some 
 acquire vast fortunes in a few years, partly by superior en- 
 ergy and sagacity, partly by cunning, and often partly by 
 fraudulent deceit, and spend their means in vulgar display, 
 in foreign lands; while others, with haggard faces, work 
 beyond tlieir strength to gain the means of extending a 
 wretched existence. Fatigued with these fruitless thoughts 
 a tremor shook my frame, m}' senses were closed to exter- 
 nal iinjnessious, my mind was abnormally quickened, when 
 the most ravishing music greeted mv ear. the verv thoughts
 
 THE COJIIXG RELIGION. 115 
 
 of which now thrill my soul with inexpressible delight. 
 The words I could not catch, but the chorus run: 
 
 From far-off worlds we've come to teach 
 Truths for earnest souls to preach; 
 We've come to aid religion's hirth, 
 Tlie last that e'er will come to earth. 
 
 During this music three beings appeared before me, of 
 surpassing beauty and pert'ectiun. For the first time my 
 mind feasted in beholding human beii)g.s who were abso- 
 lutely faultlessly perfect in feature, form, com])lexion, and 
 expression, and beyond criticism by the most skillful artist. 
 Tw^o of these were men and one a woman. I intuitively 
 perceived that their minds were as perfect as their physitjue 
 appeared to be — not one faculty cultivated at the expense 
 of another, nor the whole mind at the expense of the physi- 
 cal system. 
 
 One, whom for convenience I shall designate Dr. Symetri- 
 cus Aldeberan, said: " We are an eml)assy from one of those 
 stars you so admired as it twinkled beautifully in space." I 
 suggested Alpha Centauri. sixty-one cvf/di. Aldeberan, with 
 a majestic wave of his hand, be said: " It matters not; it is 
 better you shoidd not be informed, for the truths we have to 
 utter must stand upon their own merits. We have some 
 instruction to impart of great importance to the children of 
 earth, and particularly to the American people. It has been 
 our life-work, extending through £eons and a.'ons, to study 
 the moral and religious growth of the people of the various 
 planets as they have progressed from a savage condition to 
 the highest and most perfect civilization. 
 
 " Of the six thousand stars you see twinkling so beauti- 
 fully in the ethereal blue, some are binary, revolving about 
 a common center; but tlie greater part are central suns 
 with families of planets revolving about them, and receiv- 
 ing life-giving elements from their parent suns. The ))laiiets 
 are in various stages of growth; suuie are in the diilused 
 gaseous condition of irregular form, some are in the molten, 
 fiery stage, and have, in ()l)edieiice to attraction, assumed 
 the glol)ul!ir form; some have radiated their heat until a 
 crust is formed, tlie foundation of a peopled world. Some 
 have reached the life bearing stage, and in a small proj)or- 
 tion life has progressed to the human type, while in a still 
 smaller number, human beings ami society have reached a
 
 116 Till', CoMINO lU;iJ(iI()N. 
 
 condition inconcoivubly more ))(;if('ct. tliiiii on earth, wliile 
 others liave exhniisted tlieir liff-beuring elements and be- 
 come dead worlds, thus sih^ntly adnionisliinf^ you of the 
 fate of all worlds in the countless teons yet to come. As 
 each a^'ed i)ersou has ])assed tlirouf^h tlie various stages of 
 infancy, early youth, later youth, matdiood, maturer man- 
 hood, and so on to the stage of the decline of life's forces 
 — so all ))lanets have i)assed through the various stages de- 
 scribed, or are on the inevital)le road to those conditions. 
 
 " The reason that earth's inhabitants are in a disturbed 
 and unhappy condition — that emperors are assassinated, 
 vice, crime, and insanit}' are increasing in spite of increas- 
 ing light, education, and power over the material resources 
 of nature — is, that the people of earth are now passing 
 through a religious transition period. The juinds of the 
 greatest thinkers are unsettled on the fundamental ques- 
 tions of man's origin, character, and destiny, from which 
 practical morality springs; and there is said to be a moral 
 interregnum. Your condition can be but little improved 
 until this critical period in religion and morality is passed, 
 and they become firmly established on the demonstrated 
 truths and principles which inhere in the human constitu- 
 tion and its environment. The inhabitants of all worlds, 
 older in development than yours, have passed through this 
 same critical and disturbed period to one of greater har- 
 mony and happiness. 
 
 " We, whose business it is to be the teachers and helpers 
 of our human brethren, have observeii many worlds as they 
 l)assed through tljis transitional period iu religion and 
 morals; we know its various stages and symptoms as well 
 as a skillful physician knows the stages and .symptoms of 
 the most common disease. To make our meaning plain, we 
 must premise that the people of all planets whose human 
 race has reached a mature development have passed through 
 three stages of religion; these are Fetichism, Polytheism, 
 Monotheism, and so on to the Theanthropic, or the reli- 
 gion of humanity, which is the final and permanent condi- 
 tion. These are somewhat mixed and blended, as day van- 
 ishes through twilight to night, and night through rosy dawn, 
 to full-orbed day. Fetichism is the religion of savage people; 
 it consists in putting faith in inanimate objects, snch as 
 charms, trinkets, idols of wood and stone and metal; and 
 in its highest expression con-ists, as b v the Persians, in the
 
 THE COMING RELIGION. 117 
 
 worship of siin, moon, and stars. So fascinating was this, 
 that Moses made it imnishidjle with death, to w^au the He- 
 brews from its ))ractice. Polvtlieism c(jnsists in ])ersonify- 
 ing' the various forces of nature, aiul making a visible rep- 
 resentation; thns, Jupiter flashed in tlie lightning, rolled 
 in the tliunder; Ne])tune controlled the ocean's storms. 
 This toiind its culminating expression in Ejjhesus, Greece, 
 and Home, until their philosophers discovered its empti- 
 ness, and their satirists rid'dled it with ridicule, when it 
 perished, never to a])pear (i^ain on earth. The Hebrew re- 
 ligion, as instituted by Moses, is an example of the purest 
 Monotheism the world has ever seen. 
 
 " Cliristianity, its outgrowth, is ji mixture of Monotheism, 
 Polytheism, and Fetichism. Monotheism it receives from 
 its progenitor. Its devil, its trinitj', especially its Christ, 
 partake of the character of Polytheism. Its cross and sa- 
 cred relics, and even its Bihle, held so far above its intrin- 
 sic meiit, ]>artake of Fetichism. At tlie advent of Chris- 
 tianity, the cultuied few in Greece and Ktnue saw tlie emp- 
 tiness of their rfli<,'ion; but the masses w< re so sunk in ig- 
 norance and superstition, and so infatuated with their gods, 
 th;it ])ure Monotheism could not have prevailed in Greece 
 or liome. or won its way over Odin and 'I'hor in north- 
 western Euroi)e. This mixture was a necessary condition 
 of tlie success of Christianity. Most countries of distinc- 
 tive civilization have originat- d their own religion. India 
 originated Brahmiiiism and Buddhism; Egypt had her Isis 
 and Osiris; tiie Hebrews Inid their Jeliovah; Greece had 
 her gods; Scandinavia originatetl Odinism. Christianity 
 was personal atid local in its origin, iidapted to n peculiar 
 jdiase of civilization. Lord Beaconslield thought the Ameri- 
 can p^•ople must be (bticient in inventive faculties, or with 
 a distinctive civilization tiiey W(udd have originated their 
 own leligion. 
 
 '■ He i\u\ not redize that a religi(Ui is now sjjiinging from 
 the bosom ol the American jieople that will be <j^eneral in 
 its character, sup|ilanting all others and uniting them in 
 religion as in governmeni, education, and science." 
 
 I said: " Dr. Symelricus, you are aware that many of our 
 thinkers, scientists, .•iii<i philosophers tliiidi religion is un- 
 Uf-cessary in civilized life. Will you please give us your 
 views oil thiit poini ? ' 
 
 He replied: "This is a very important matter ami
 
 118 THK COMINO Uia.KilON. 
 
 worthy our best consideration. If all were pljilosophers 
 with well-oiiltivated niorul faculties, society could exist 
 ■without relij>ion; but in reality we all commence our 
 earthly life as children; and the worst of it is that, so far 
 as our present argument is concerned, many of us remain 
 children to the end of life. Very few attain to the power of 
 clear reasoning; on moral subjects until the apj'e of twenty- 
 live, and the majority of mankind do not durinj/ their nat- 
 ural lives. Conscience is an emotional power of the mind 
 "which, in its natural expression, affords no criterion of 
 rifi;ht or wronj^'. It simplj' enforces the convictions the 
 mind has received throu'^h life's experiences and educa- 
 tional training; hence the importance that this training 
 should be as efficient and correct as possible during early 
 life while the mind is in its most plastic condition. This 
 can only be effected through a religious system which can 
 command the confidence of the scientists and philosophers 
 of the country. 
 
 " It is necf^ssary to the lucid treatment of a subject that 
 its leading terms should be defined. This is especially true 
 of religion, 3'et there is no adequate definition in your dic- 
 tionaries; even your literary men are unable to give an ad- 
 equate detinitiou. The senior class of theological students 
 of California cannot define it correctly; the lawyers of Phil- 
 adelphia cannot; and, incredible as it may seem to a New 
 Euglander, even the transcendental philosophers of Bos- 
 ton and Concord cannot. Keligion, according to its high- 
 est development, is a cult, whose object is moral culture as 
 an end, and physical culture as a means to that end. Ac- 
 cording to the theology of the Middle Ages, which still lin- 
 gers in the lap of the age of light; the objects of religion 
 are to appease an angry God, to escape the wiles of a ma- 
 lignant devil, to escape a burning hell, to achieve some 
 temporal good through prayer and observances, rather than 
 by controlling the causes that lead to such blessings 
 through the laws and forces that surround us. 
 
 "These ideas will be found to be myths having no foun- 
 dation in reality and will be dropped from human con- 
 sciousness as the people emerge into the latter part of this 
 religious transition period." 
 
 I inquired what would become of religious worship. 
 
 He replied: " Worship has no eliect whatever on the ob- 
 ject or being worshiped, since everything that comes to us
 
 THE COMING RELKilUN. 119 
 
 comes by, in, aud tlirough the laws of nature as tbey exist 
 within our own being- and environment. Worship may 
 have a mild tendency to assimilate tlie worshiper to the ob- 
 ject worshiped. We admit the Sn])reme Unitar}' Power of 
 Nature, but still it must be plain that, in worshiping, a per- 
 sonal God is a pure ideal conception which every human 
 being necessarih' forms for himself. If this ideal be a ' man 
 of war,' vengeful, angry at times, partial, elevating one 
 tribe at the expense of exterminating others; punishing by 
 endless torment the majority of his own creatures, the ef- 
 fect cannot but be demoralizing. The tendencies are par- 
 tially counteracted by the wholesome moral tendency of all 
 normally developed natures, by pleasant music, the elo- 
 quence of a cultured preacher, and the pleasant surround- 
 ings of a wealthy church. Worship, then, is a function of 
 religion as transient in its character as animal sacrifice, and 
 will not survive the present transition period." 
 
 I inquired what would be the first commandment in the 
 new religion. 
 
 He replied: " The first commandment of the decalogue 
 had a pertinent api)lication to the people to whom it was 
 given. Polytheism was the highest phase of religion which 
 bad obtained credence at that tiiue. While Moses still 
 lingered amid the smoke and thunderings of Sinai, the He- 
 brews clamored for a calf to worsliip, and Aaron yielded to 
 their iniportunities. They had no doubt been educated to 
 worship the sacred bull, Apis, of the Egyptians, an incar- 
 nation of the greater god, Osiris, in their mythology. Tlieir 
 early bias was so strong that they could not be sati.sfied 
 without doing homage to an emblem of the god of their 
 fathers. 
 
 "Moses undertook the difficult task of breaking up Poly- 
 theism and establishing the worship of the one God supe- 
 rior to all others, who was, in his system, the especial pro- 
 tector of the nation he essayed to establish; hence the 
 pertinence of the lirst comn)andment, 'Thou shalt have no 
 other gods before me.' But since, Puh'theism has ceased to 
 exist, for twelve centuiies it has had no application what- 
 ever to the existing conditions of Christendom. During this 
 time countless tliousands have perished by living in viola- 
 tion of the plainest jn'inciples of pliysiology. This, then, 
 should be the first comnjand: Tkou slialt obey plujswlogwal 
 law."
 
 120 THE COYINQ ULLIGION. 
 
 I iiiqiiiied wliiit doctrines of religion wliould be tauglit in 
 reficiird to tliose f^^reat ])roblenis wlii(rh are peculiarly reli- 
 gious — as tlje being and character of tlie Supreme Power 
 of the Universe, the origin of man, the nature and destiny 
 of the human spirit, and the relation of the spiritual world 
 to the visible and material world we inhabit. 
 
 He replied: "The answer is very easy, and verj' jjlain. 
 That which is known and can be verified should be taught; 
 that which is not known should be investigated. It is the 
 same rule which obtains in science, in agriculture, in me- 
 chanics In all of these a working hy]iothesis is useful in 
 investigation as a ground of experiment, and these have led 
 to some of the most important discoveries in science. . But 
 there is a clear distinction between these provision-il as- 
 sumptions and demonstrable truths. But henceforth the 
 mind must be left free; let no religious teachers and no ec- 
 clesiastical councils attempt to trammel the human mind; 
 let them not say you must believe this or you must not be- 
 lieve that under penalty. Belief is iiivoluntury; it is the 
 conclusion of the intellect from the evidence as the mind 
 sees it. 
 
 "Original and free investigation for an honest purpose is 
 as commendable in religion as in science. It is the primary 
 duty of religious teachers, as a class, to enlarge the boun- 
 daries of human knowledge in regard to these great mat- 
 ters. If this rule be observed — preach what is known, 
 search out what is unknown^you will not be troubled 
 with long sermons on hot afternoons as many have been in 
 the days of their youth. 
 
 " Keligious exercises must mainly be addressed to the 
 emotions; for all are emotional, whether young or old, 
 learned or unlearned. But the doctrinal teaching must not 
 be oliensive to the few who have cultivated the reasoning 
 faculties to the highest degree and are the best posted in 
 scientific matters. Foetr}', eloquence, and music must ever 
 remain the tit instruments of religious exercises." 
 
 I inquired of my teaciier what he thought of our public 
 schools as a means of moral improvement. 
 
 He laughed at the idea. " We thought so at one time 
 on our phmet, but that was aeons and reons ago when our 
 schools were in a similar condition to yours at the present 
 time. A singular circumstance happened which brought to 
 light a fact not mentioned in our current histories. An an-
 
 THE COMING HELIGION. 121 
 
 tiqnarian wlio spends his life iu liui^tinfr for scraps of for- 
 gotten lore, in searcliing among tlie voluminous archives 
 found an ancient document wiiich aj)peared well anthenti- 
 Ciiled with the seal of a great and proud State, which 
 showed that in those remote times tejichers actually re- 
 sorted to fraud to gain certificates of their qualifications for 
 teaclers. This seemed inci'edible to our jieople; but it was 
 further shown that neither moral nor religious principles 
 were taught. Little or no training was given to fit the pu- 
 pils for the actual business of life, nor was it impressed on 
 them that all necessary labor is honoiable. On the cou- 
 traiT, some teachers told tlieir pupils tiiat education was a 
 means of sharpening the faculties so they could escape 
 tlieir share of labor. Then it began to dawn on the peojjle 
 that their public-sch'or)! system was inadequate to the work 
 in hand of properly training the young. 
 
 "As our planet passed the hist religious transition, moral 
 and religious iiisiruciion went h.tnd in hand with secular 
 education; andwli.it nifi}' seem incredible to you, the reli- 
 gious teaching took hold of the minds of the j'oung, because 
 it conesponded with ihe laws of nature and was verified 
 and confiinied by ail subsequent experience. We no longer 
 heard the alarming reimirk that ciime and vice increased 
 with increasing intelligence. And no education is consid- 
 ered com|)lete which does not enable the recipient to ob- 
 serve closely, reason accurately, analyze comi)letely, and 
 educe a correct conclusion on any subject, in spite of the 
 ordinary bias of ])assion, prejuilice, and preconceived opin- 
 ion; also, all triiining of the young had special reference to 
 fitting them for the places they were most likely to occupy 
 in niatuie life. 
 
 "In the coining religion man will rise into the region of 
 onuses and fully ajjpreciate their relative and absolute 
 power in ev( ry dejiartment of att'.iirs; and the fruitlessness 
 of all efforts for improvement which dabble with effects 
 alone. Within the last half-century man has made wt)nder- 
 ful strides in obtaining a mastery over the forces and ma- 
 terials of nature. Continents have been gridironed with 
 steel rails and telegniph wires, and machineiT has been 
 applied to nmnufacture everything requisite to his comfort. 
 It now remains for nmn to gain the mastery over himself, 
 as an indivi'dual, and as a race comjiosed of tlie aggn^^ate of 
 indivichnds. He must rise to a clear perception of the
 
 122 TOE COMING HKLIOION. 
 
 causes wljich Iciul lo sncli u iioiniiil development of tlie 
 pliyKVcal, iiitellcctufil, aiid monil powers as shall render 
 easy and habitu.il tlie obedience to physiological require- 
 ments for the highest development of the iiidividiial and of 
 the race. Then diseases will almost cease to afflict, and 
 medicines will literally and figuratively become a drug in 
 the market. Excessive wealth and excessive povert}', will 
 alike cease. Wealth will be no excuse for idleness nor 
 povert}' for overwork. The new religion will be a powerful 
 and indispensable auxiliary in iirodiuing tliese results The 
 requisite principles will be taught fr(jjn childhood and en- 
 forced by the moral power of example." 
 
 I inquired of my venerable instructor how bis physiolog- 
 ical principles should be i)ut into practice. 
 
 He answered: " There was a time in the history of our 
 planet when it presented great difficulties on account of 
 interested professit)nals and the vulgar prejudices of un- 
 cultured and undeveloped minds; but as our people began 
 to emerge from the age of faith and mythology to the age 
 of scientific religion, a sanitary commission was established 
 by law and supported by the State. 
 
 " This consisted of three for every ten thousand, whose 
 lives were devoted to physiological studies. All candidates 
 for matrimony were required to be examined by this com- 
 mission, somewhat as an ajjplicant for life insurance has to 
 be with 3'ou. 
 
 "A careful record of this was kept in the archives of 
 State to be held private for the uses intended. If the ap- 
 plicants misrepresented they were liable to the penalties of 
 jierjury; if, contrary to instruction, the}' became parents 
 and were afflicted with children of a feeble and sickly con- 
 stitution, doomed to an early death or sickly life; they 
 could not lay the blame to a mysterious providence or ex- 
 pect the sympathy of their neighbors and friends. Com- 
 mon sense, foresight, and prudence all contributed to work 
 out a glorious result. In a few generations the children 
 were uniformly strong, healthy, and beautiful, and it was a 
 great source of pleasure to look at them and witness their 
 sports. 
 
 " Say not that such a discrimination will be dishonorable 
 or disreputable to that moiety who are assigned other du- 
 ties and other pleasures than those of parentage. These 
 crude ideas spring from undeveloped brains, the result of 
 semi-civilized conditions.
 
 THE COMIXd HF.LIGKlN. 123 
 
 "The dislionorahle part is to hand down to innocent and 
 lielpless generations of the future evils which foresight, 
 wisdom, and the exalted morality we teach might avoid. 
 
 "There can be no greater niiserv thnn to beconie i)arents 
 of children of sickly and feeble constitutions, inevitably 
 doomed to early death, or, worse still, to drag out a life 
 alike joyless to themselves and useless to the society in 
 which they dwell; nor can there be a more keen and 
 poignant suftering than the stings of conscience to a sensi- 
 tive soul when evils result from a violation of the best reli- 
 gious instruction the world has ever seen. Darwin has 
 demonstrated to the scientific world that animal life has at- 
 tained its present status through the operation of the laws 
 of heredity, variation, natural selection, and the survival of 
 the fittest. Humanit}' must be carried up to a still higher 
 plane through the same laws, with the additi(m of physio- 
 logical and moral selection. Let no one say that we teach the 
 hideous doctrine of free love. On the contrary, we teach 
 the absolute sacredness of true marringe, and that the high- 
 est expression of love should be chastened and directed by 
 the highest wisdom and most exalted morality. Those who 
 are unfit to become parents by physiological conditions are 
 entitled to a joyous and hap])y existence; as much so as 
 their natural constitutions and circumstances will permit; 
 but the most serene and soulful happiness is impossible to 
 those who are not truly useful to the society in which they 
 live and the human race as as a whole." 
 
 He continued: " When people learn to live according to 
 physiological requirements and conditions, medicines will 
 be but little needed. The medical profession will be more 
 useful, even, than it is now. It will be elevated from 
 writing Latin prescrijitions for drugs of doubtful utility to 
 pointing out in ])lain English sanitary laws and conditions, 
 which will result in avoiding the greater portion of the dis- 
 eases that atllict humanity. A constitutional vigor will be 
 developed which will enal)le each one to resist slight un- 
 wholesome conditions which cannot be avoided in the pres- 
 ent conilition of your planet. But as your planet pro- 
 gresses to the mature condition of the human bearing pe- 
 riod; the meteorological, electrical, magnetic, and other 
 sanitary conditions will be greatly improved. This, in con- 
 nection with voluntary eftbrts on the part of the people, 
 will carry humanity up to a condition of happiness ami
 
 124 TUK COMIXa lUiLIGION. 
 
 perfection beyond the most j^oetic dre.'unH of tlie [Jtoi>ian 
 pliilosopliccH." 
 
 I iii(]iiire(l wliiit would be tbe result of the apparent uu- 
 taj4:onisni between labor and capital. 
 
 He replied: "These a^ntations and disturbances will 
 cease as societ}' becomes elevated b}' the operation of the 
 forces we have named. When the new relijy;ion becomes 
 firmly and full}' established, by its code of moral ethics, no 
 one will be permitted to perform more than six hours of 
 earuest, taxinfi; labor in a day, either of the brain or mus- 
 cles; and this for various reasons: 1st. It will be ample to 
 provide for all the wants of mankind and accumulate a jren- 
 erous surplus for any exi<>'ency tliat may arise. 2d. For 
 any man to perform more than six hours of muscular labor 
 a (hiy will deteriorate the brain and so invite immoralities 
 tliat will do society far more evil than the surplus labor 
 will benefit; and, also, more than six hours of brain labor 
 will deteriorate tne muscular system, disturbing the sym- 
 metry and harmony of every part of the system, thus dis- 
 turbing conditions necessary to the best intellectual efforts. 
 Tliere will then be little or no labor that is not also a 
 pleasure. To a great extent every one will be permitted to 
 choose his own occupation and pursue it with interest. 
 The distinction between amateur and professional work will 
 cease. Every one will be ambitious to excel in his or her 
 efi'orts, and sham, make-shift work will afflict the world no 
 more. The idea should be taught from early j'ears and 
 brought to the consciousness of the people, that all chil- 
 dren are the wards of the State to a certain extent, for on 
 them the welfare of the future nation mainly depends. 
 And the State should most imperatively be required to fur- 
 nish medical advice to all who ax'e raising families. I have 
 observed with pain that in some towns it requires the 
 wages of two days' common labor to pay for one doctor's 
 visit and medicines. Think for a moment of a young man 
 and woman of little means struggling to rear children un- 
 der such conditions! If Jupiter still controlled the thunder 
 and had a particle of sense of justice, he would make the 
 lightnings flash and the thunders roll, as if all the artillery 
 of the world were exploding, until such wrongs were 
 abated. 
 
 " One of the principles of the ethical code of the new re- 
 ligion will be, that population must resolutely be kept
 
 THE COMING RELIGION. 125 
 
 within the means of ]->roi)er subsistence. The maxim of one 
 of your great political economists, that there is a constant 
 teudnncy of population to outrun the means of subsistence, 
 does not hold good where reason and the moral element 
 are so trained as to induce right living, unswayed by passion 
 or prejudice. The present idea that a rapid increase of popu- 
 hition is desirable is the offspring of avaricious greed. The 
 newspaper man, the professional man, the merchant, and the 
 railn^ad man all desire customers which a greater i)opula- 
 tion may bring; hence false ideas of political economy have 
 become common, and habits of life naturally follow quite 
 inconsistent with the highest prosi)crity and moral devel- 
 opment of the people. It njust be kept in mind, that in a 
 true condition of society a larger proportion of ])roductive 
 wealth uiust be spent in education and recreative enjoy- 
 ments." 
 
 He continued: " I have observed with pain that in every 
 city there are hundreds, and in snuxll towns scores, of men 
 and women dragging out miserable lives of feebleness and 
 ill-health because their fathers and mothers— good, pious 
 souls! — robbed their unborn children of their inherent pat- 
 rimony of constitutional vigor by overwork, through an un- 
 wise ambition to keep up a certain style of living or to 
 accumulate property. They attended church services regu- 
 larly, but heard no word of warning from their pastor; 
 verily, as the Hebrew |)rophet said three thousand years 
 ago, they were dumb dogs that could not bark. They em- 
 ployed physicians atid ])aid them liberally for Latin pre- 
 scriptions, but received no adequate warning from them in 
 matters of most vital importance. Under the new religion, 
 the mothers of the ra(!e will be treated more tenderly than 
 they have been; especially by the struggling classes. The 
 people will be religiously boun<l to ]>lace them in hajipy 
 surroundings, favcn'able to poelic, artistic, and intellectual 
 exaltation, and most conscientiously to exempt them from 
 all burdensome labor of body or mind, that they may give 
 their strength to their children; for no education, no 
 preaching, no medical treatment, no prisons or scaflblds 
 can compensate for antenatal losses and misdirertion." 
 
 I asked the doctor what he thought of the climate of the 
 United States. 
 
 Said he: "Here is a matter worthy of careful consider- 
 ation. Owing to the electrical, magnetic, and other subllo
 
 126 TIIIC COMING IIELIGION. 
 
 conditions not understood, there is a tondenoy to an undue 
 development of the nervous system. 'Jliis is seen in tlie 
 ominous preeocitj and thin muscles of children and the in- 
 crease of nervous diseases. These causes are powerful and 
 not easily controlled. The American continent has been 
 the ffraveyard of nations. The Mound-huilders have passed 
 away and left no record but the earthworks they built for 
 some scarcely defined object. If there is no counteracting 
 cause or balaiice-wlieel introduced to correct this tendency, 
 ■when the fresh currents of European blood cease to be 
 poured into the veins of the people, they will become a na- 
 tion of invalids. The only adequate renjedy is to drive 
 Lome i)hysiological i)rinciples by the powerful means of re- 
 ligious teaching. 
 
 " Wlien there is a livel}' and sensitive conscience devel- 
 oped ill this matter, aided by such discoveries as our sci- 
 entists shall make, man will here, as elsewhere, gain a glo- 
 rious triumph over the obstacles which nature seems to 
 have thrown in his way." 
 
 I asked my venerated instructor if he would be pleased 
 to give his views of Colonel Ingersoll and his work. 
 
 He replied: "Most willingly. His career is an index of 
 the times of great significance. He is doing a splendid 
 work of a pieliminary character. He is an iconoclast 
 breaking the images the people have been so long worship- 
 ing. He is blessed with great eloquence, great personal 
 magnetism, great talent for i)roiiucing immediate results, 
 but there is not an elenjent of reconstructive force in his 
 nature. His reputation will be short-lived, for no man 
 ever did a great and lasting work on a mere negation. His 
 religion of good dinners and good cloth<^s does not fill the 
 diai)ason of human emotions, human fears, and human 
 hopes. Such a man could only find his mission in the early 
 part of this transition period, when thousands of men and 
 women have severed their connection with the decaying re- 
 ligion of the past and have not yet reached out their ten- 
 drils to find support in the far better religion of the future. 
 He describes with unfaltering audacity the thoughts that 
 have long had their silent undergrowth, but, from an ex- 
 cusable timidity, have shrunk from the light of day. As 
 my colleague will exi)lain, the evolution system has cut the 
 tap-root of Mediieval Theology, and Colonel Ingersoll is 
 working with herculean strength to sever the roots that
 
 THE COMING RELIGION. 127 
 
 spread upon tlie suiface. His work is to clear the ground 
 of the rubbish and obstruction which are no longer either 
 useful or ornameutal. Others of equally great talents, elo- 
 quence, and jjersonal niugnetisin will take up the work 
 where he leaves it; they will drive the plowshare deep 
 through the virgin soil; augels will sow the pure seed, 
 which will spring up with a vigorous growth and produce a 
 bounteous crop for the healing and nourishing of countless 
 generations yet to be." 
 
 SISTER ALDEBEKAN's ADDRESS. 
 
 "Oh, my sisters of earth! permit me to address you a 
 few sisterly words. Could you be permitted to behold our 
 transcendent beauty by the clear perception of the inner 
 mind, as your speaker has done, it would excite your rap- 
 turous admiration; ay, perchance jour eu\y, for we are 
 all human. This beauty and physical perfecttion is not a 
 chance gift, but has come through the opeiatiun of natural 
 laws and forces which are oumipresent. True, it was our 
 good fortune to liave been born and reared in a i)lanet 
 which had reached the maturity of its life-bearing forces; 
 still we jire iiidel)ted to a long line of ancestors of both 
 sexes who had religiously obeyed the laws of henlth, with- 
 out which such beneficent results were impossible. Tlie 
 past cannot be recalled, but the future of earth is all before 
 you; permit me, therefore, to address j'ou a few sisterly sug- 
 gestions; for, though I never suffered a day of painful ill- 
 ness or conscious pliysical weakness, yet through the subtle 
 sympathy of sex I can ai)i)re(i;ite the evils that have atllicted 
 you, oh, sisters of earth! Resolve now to begin to studj' 
 and obey the laws of health, which will in time work out 
 inconceivjible results to a grateful posterity. 
 
 "Not to be too vague and general, lei me descend to a 
 few salient particulars: Never allow your clothing to press 
 8(j closely on any ])art of your person as in the slightest de- 
 gree to im|)e(l(! the circulation of the blood and the sul)tle 
 nerve-nouiishiiig elements it cariies. Kemember that any 
 pressure on either of the four extremities, by an inevitable 
 reaction, also impedes the healthful nutrition of the brain, 
 thus incapacitating it to put forth the most perfect emo- 
 tions and ideas. 
 
 "But, above all, avoid any pressure on the vital organs
 
 128 THE COMINfi UI.I.KIION. 
 
 tliJit iii.'iy fettfi" tlie lie<arfc-tlirol)H wliic-li sfMid tlir; iiourisliin;^ 
 cnireiits to every purt, of the syHteni (jr wljicli rnuy prevent 
 the full iiiflutioii of the lniij,'s, by which that current is oxy- 
 geniifed witli the ]ife-<,Mvin<T elements of the atmospliere. 
 
 "All wron^i^s of this kind are avenged by nerve and braia 
 deterioration and all its attendant aches and evils. These 
 snn-fTf^Htions may seem trivial, but they are not so; for due 
 attention to them, with ap))ropriate open-air life, will eindjle 
 the oxyj^en to paint your complexion beycjnd the picture of 
 the most skillful artist. It will also give to your nerves a 
 pleasurable sense of existence which all the medicines of 
 the world cannot approach. Try to develop a reasoning 
 brain and an independent character. In early life acquire 
 skill in some useful industry that will help to give you a 
 sense of independence and be a refuge in adversity. 
 
 "In the ])lanet I re])resent, what is acce]>ted as the most 
 perfect model of the female form is slightly fuller in the 
 chest and waist than your justly celebrated statue of Ve'iius 
 de Medici. After mature consideration by our best phys- 
 iologists, it was concluded th<it anything more restricted 
 would not give the vital organs suflficierjt strength to sus- 
 tain the highest beauty and meet the inevitable exigences of 
 life; and hence statues of this model are ])laced in many 
 ])ublic places, and even in sonje of our reli^;ious edifices; 
 not as the vulgar lUiiy suppose, to worship, but as a means 
 of culturing a connect public taste. 
 
 " We are alive to the great fact that the healthful mani- 
 festations of the aflfectious are the crowning glory of a 
 woman in all worlds; but still I am impelled to say even 
 the sacred affections should be dominated, directed, and 
 controlled by that superior wisdom which can onl}- come of 
 a healthful physique and the careful training of self-disci- 
 pline. 
 
 "Accept these sisterly admonitions in the kindly spirit 
 in which they are given, and you and posterity will h;ive 
 occasion to hold me in grateful reniembrance. 
 
 "And, oh, my sisters! allow me in conclusion to say the 
 most important word of all, which may appear extravagant; 
 but weigh it well before you pronounce it so. 
 
 "As to be the mother of a child, healthy and sound of 
 body and mind is the greate^»t crown of glory to a woman, 
 so to bear a sickly one is the greatest sin. Therefore firmly 
 resolve that, unavoidable exigences excepted, you will
 
 THE COMING RELIGION. 129 
 
 never bear a sickly, feeble child. Strupfgle to carry out 
 tbis heaveu-borii resolution, even to death, knowinpf that if 
 you fall in so holy a cause you will till an enviable niche 
 a,n\o\\g the martyred saints in the great temple of the future 
 religion of humanity. 
 
 " In the Cliristian religion God was said to be manifested 
 in the flesh of one man. It is the aim of this religion that 
 He should be manifest in every human being," 
 
 mi. IXTUITUS' ADDRESS. 
 
 I said, Dr. Intuitus, what do you think of the material- 
 ization ])henomena? 
 
 A dark shade of sorrow spread over his expressive fea- 
 tures as he replied: "In time they will be perfected, but 
 at present the}' are in a very unsatisfactory condition. We 
 are de{)endent mainly on these phenomena to convince the 
 scientists and materialists of the continuance of intellec- 
 tual life, after the change of death. Those who have charge 
 of this deparbnent in spirit life find it exceedingly difficult 
 to control the delicate conditions necessary to produce the 
 best possible results. Mediums seem to be wanting in 
 proper training or destitute of some qualities requisite to 
 complete success in this matter; and yet it is very difficult 
 to treat the subject pro])erly. To mediumshi[), conscious 
 and unconscious, the world is mainly indebted for pro- 
 gressive impulses and powers to lift it to a higher plane, 
 not only in religion and morals, but also to some extent in 
 mechanical iiiventions. 
 
 " Mediuiuship is surrounded by such subtle and delicate 
 forces, and is manifested in such a variety of phases that it 
 is very impeifectly understood by the mediums themselves, 
 much less by the world at large. The rule holds good here 
 that it is b(;tter that a hundred guilty ])arties escape than 
 that one innocent should sull'er; and yet it is painfidly true 
 that unscrupulous men, from mercenary motives, have 
 taken advantage of tlie strong desire on the part of the 
 people to see a palpable demonstration of a future life to 
 perpetrate shameful frauds. These things impose the nec- 
 essity of learning to discriminate between the wortiiy and 
 the unworthy, the true and tlie false. Every banker is 
 compelled to learn to discriminate between genuine money 
 and its counterfeit; and the government is bound to ferret
 
 130 THK COMING KKLKIION. 
 
 out tlie guilty parties in order to protect the people. In 
 onr ])lHnet a class of professionul experts grew up to detect 
 and expose such frauds. Persons were treated with deli- 
 cate consideration while there was a doubt of the character 
 of the medium or his effort. But when a man was found to 
 }HM petrate an unscrupulous fraud, simulating so holy and 
 useful a power, they would put a whip in the hands of 
 every honest man to lash Uw. rai«:al nnke'.d lliroiKjJi the n-orld." 
 
 I said, Dr. Intuitus, as you have some reputation for 
 being clairvoyant and prophetic, will you tell us how long 
 the transition period will continue? 
 
 He replied: "You are in the early part of the period. 
 By the end of this century the scientists will have mastered 
 the spiritual phenomena and explained their import; or at 
 least they will have so raised the \ail of darkness and mys- 
 ter3' that seems to enshroud them that jirogress will be 
 pleasant and rapid. By the middle of the next centurj' the 
 transition will be passed and the new religion fully estab- 
 lished; for the human mind is so ripened and cultured tbat 
 more iirogress is now m.ade in fifty years than Avas in three 
 centuries . -it the advent of the Christian era. Then people 
 will look back on the grand old city churches as we look on 
 the ruins of the ancient temples of Thebes, Ephesus, and 
 Greece, as mementos of a faith, once powerful, but now de- 
 jiarted from the earth — with a few exceptions — mostly in 
 some inaccessible mountain region, remote from the centers 
 of i)o))u]ation and thought. And as I see some pious souls 
 weeping over these stately ruins, I say, ' Weep not, oh 
 children of earth; the evolution that has destroyed these 
 will build edifices of far more value to mankind. Weep 
 not; a religion that could fruit in the Crusades, the Massa- 
 cre of St. Bartholomew, the Thirty Years' War, the horrors 
 of the Inquisition, a personal devil, and an endless hell of 
 burning fire, is not w-orth^' of joxxv tears.' 
 
 When the true history- of this transition is written, it 
 will be seen that men and women have lived and labored 
 on American soil, of a higher inspiration, and a deeper 
 spiritual insight than any j)riest or prophet that ever trod 
 the sacred soil of Palestine; or any evangelist that wrote 
 the sayings or doings of Jesus Christ; or an}' apostle who 
 carried the religion of a blood-atonement to the heathen 
 nations of the earth. 
 
 " I will now explain more in detail. The Eeformation
 
 THE COMING RELIGION. 131 
 
 of the sixteenth century may be consiilered as the first indi- 
 cation of the approaching change. The reformers started 
 with the princii)le of the riglit of private judgment, but 
 prjicticall}' ciij^pled its effect by limiting it to their own 
 book and creed. If any one in the exercise of his judgment 
 transcended tijese limitshe was anathema maranatlia. Prot- 
 estantism, therefore, being but a half-work, has been a 
 sickly failure; bearing the seeds of contradiction and decay 
 in its own bosom, it was foredoomed to a short life. The 
 Augshuig and "Westminster confessions of faith completely 
 arrested further progress and growth in religious knowl- 
 edge, and they will remain in history as sad mementos of 
 the danger of fixing human belief and investigation. Dur- 
 ing the last third of a centuiy, which may fairly include 
 the transition period, two grand achievements have been 
 made: One is the ability to comm;ind at will the scientitic 
 evidence of a continued existence after the dissolution of 
 the mortal body. "What has already ap])eaied are as the 
 pattering drops that often i^recede a copious shower. As 
 these phenomena are in a state of rapid development, I will 
 not further dwell upon them here. 
 
 " The other is the grandest achievement the inhabitants 
 of earth have ever made — I mean the establishment of the 
 universal doctrine of Evolution. This great work has been 
 done njaiidy by the English and American scientists. For 
 the last third of a century many men whose intellects have 
 never been excelled, have worked with great anel persistent 
 industry. 
 
 " They have examined mountains, deserts, continents, 
 and seas; they have peered through telesco})es and niicro- 
 scopes; they have chipped away with the geologist's luun- 
 mer at- the solid crust of the earth; they have examined 
 scientifically all the known forms of living and extinct ani- 
 n)al life; some of the greatest intellects have examined, 
 com|)arcd, and analyzed the facts so obtained. Out of all 
 this lias at length sjnung the doctrine of Universal Evolu- 
 tion, as the principle by which all things exist. It explains 
 the origin of worlds, the origin and growth of animal life, 
 of governments, religions, s\ stems of philospliy, and every- 
 thing pertaining to human beings and conditions. This 
 universal solvent, the key-note of the universe; has at 
 length, in spile of much learned and religi<uis opposition, 
 won its way to scientitic recognition, ll is now taught in
 
 132 TUli: COMING lUCLIOIOX. 
 
 most collcp^es and universities, and is lieartily acce[)ted by 
 all wliose departments pertain to biolo^^ical science. This 
 brinj^ing into li<;-lit the eternal verities of the evolution sys- 
 tem has cut the tap root of Middle-Ape theoloj^fy ()y show- 
 inp; liow man has attained his present status without the in- 
 tervention of S|)ecial acts of (rrnjition, ors|)ecial providences. 
 It has also indicated how a reli<Tfi()us system can be evolved 
 that will be Ij.ised on truths that cjin be verified scientitic- 
 all}'. AVe should by no means despise the past or pass- 
 injif religions; tliey are the best tlie world was capable of at 
 the time of their advent, and were necessary stages of the 
 world's progress. As well may tlie new-hatched cliick de- 
 spise the i-g'^ — a homo^'eneous mass of albuminoid matter 
 inclosing the 3'olk, and itself kejjt in position by a thin, 
 porous shell of carbonate of lime. But in the course of incu- 
 bation there comes a time when the shell is no longer useful, 
 but must be got rid of or progressive growth will be 
 thwarted. 
 
 " Now comes the next stage. During the remainder of 
 this century the spiritual jihenomena will be examined, 
 elucidated, and exj^lained, and their relation to other sci- 
 ences established. Already two English scientists — Wallace 
 and Crookes, both Fellows of tlie Royal Society, itself a 
 guarantj"^ of scientific eminence — have ma<le a good begin- 
 ning in elucidating these phenomena. Frederick Zollner, 
 Professor of Astronomy in the University of Leipsic, has 
 written a book in which lie has endeavered to show that 
 there is a fourth dimension of space in which s^iiritual be- 
 ings exist, wholly inappreciable to our senses These works 
 cannot but arouse man}' to this great theme For this w(n-k 
 we must depend on our young men who have a life-work to 
 choose and a reputation to achieve. Most of the older sci- 
 entists have devoted themselves so ab.sorbingly to the great 
 work of eluciiUiting the evolution theory through that moi- 
 ety of science that addresses itself to (ihe external -senses; 
 that they have allowed their faculties of spiritual discern- 
 ment to become inactive and dormant. Huxley, perhaps 
 the greatest living naturalist, said, ' Even if the spiritual 
 phenomena are true, they do not interest me.' Probably 
 not; for, notwithstanding his great learning and ability, be 
 can no more comprehend the contents of the fourth dimen- 
 sion, than an unlettered peasant can appreciate the princi- 
 ples of the evolution system he has so beautifully illus-
 
 THE COMING RELIGION. 133 
 
 trfited. Others of equally jrieat abilities and industry will 
 tiike hold of this work, and by the end of this centmy the 
 greatest acliieveinent of the apjcs will be established — tlie 
 relation of the spiritual bpiiif^s of the fourth dimension to 
 those s'ill in the flnsli niiide palpable; an<l materialism for- 
 ever b;inished from the earth. Then will the scientists ])erceive 
 the truth and beauty of the sayin*^ of one of earth's oreat- 
 est poets, ' 'J'heie are more thiuj^s in heaveu and earth than 
 are dreamed of in your ))hilosophy.' 
 
 " At the coinmencemeMt of tiie next century, having 
 gained over the scientists, philosophers, and unbiased lit- 
 erary men, tlie effective braiu-i)OWer of any ])eo|)le, from 
 this coign of advantage the hosts of liberal spiritualism will 
 go forth to do valiiint battle with the obstructive power of 
 Middle-Age theology; conscious of a final victory. The 
 jiiincipal strength of an obstructive theology lies in its 
 wealth. Vast amounts have been invested in church e<H- 
 fices and theological schools, and on your earth money 
 is ))ower. Money making men of no m'>re spiritual discern- 
 ment tlian the gohlen j^od they woi-ship, will continue to 
 give to sustain this moribund religion. Like most other 
 lights of the church, they can see what is, but cannot dis- 
 cern the far more glorious temples yet to b^ in the coming 
 religion of humanity. They repeat, parrot-like, Paul's say- 
 ing, ' The thin;,'s that are seen are teujporal, but the things 
 that are unseen are eternal,' and know nothing of its tre- 
 mendous power and import. The new religion, having 
 passed the middle of tiie transition period, will have gained 
 such a ])ower of momentum that notiiing can resist it. 
 
 " Peojde will look back in amazement that a religion, 
 based neither on fact, philosophy, nor pnictical moralitj', 
 could have prevailed so many centuries after the human 
 mind became awake to scientific progress, mechanical in- 
 vention, and industrial enierprise. It was not fouiuled 
 upon a fact, but on the myth tiiat its founder was a sui)er- 
 luitural being (hegotten by the third peison of the trinity), 
 a uiyth so easily claimed, so impossible of proof. Not 
 founded on philosophy, because it claims to be ])roved by 
 miracles, thus flying in the very teeth of the uniformity of 
 nature's laws and proc^esses — the principle that renders 
 science possible aiul valuable; not based upon practical 
 morality, because the vilest murdeier, who sends his victim 
 — with all his sins unannealed — to endless torment, may
 
 134 THE COMIMi HKLKIION. 
 
 himself g'o directly to a lieaven of ondless happiness by the 
 mere profession of faith in this relijj;ion. 
 
 " The pfrtat work of bolli phihjsf)pliers and ])hilanthro- 
 pists is, to rid tlie world of tlie terrible incubus of a reli^'ion 
 that has stood in square opposition to science throujifh all 
 these centuries of liuman progress, and trembled at every 
 imijortant achievement. 
 
 " After tlie advent of the twentieth century the teachers 
 of mediseval theoloji^y Avill cease to be respected. Men 
 of talents will avoid the professioti, and men of inferior cali- 
 ber can only jiresent a feeble barrier to stay the rising tide 
 of human })rogress. When the people see how they have 
 been misled and deceived, the accumulated wi'ongs of cen- 
 turies of false teachings, will burst fortli in a storm of uncon- 
 trolhible indignation toward the clergy which will overstep 
 the bounds of propriety. The capacity of the English lan- 
 guage will l)e taxed to the utmost in invective, sarcasm, 
 and denunciation. They will o])enly accuse them of njoral 
 and intellectual ])rostitution. Tljey will refuse to be ap- 
 peased until the teachers of the coming religion show them 
 that the clergy themselves, as well as the people, are the 
 victims of a false religion, which originated iu the undevel- 
 oped condition of the human mind in the barbarous ages of 
 the distant past. 
 
 " I see in the distance a grand struggle for the American 
 people, such as the world has never seen — one that will in- 
 volve the question of the life and death of republican lib- 
 erty. Many will be forced to take positions which were at 
 first distasteful to them — even as they have had to in strug- 
 gles already past. I do not propose to discuss this topic in 
 detail iu this lecture, reserving it for a future address. 
 Suffice it to say that the struggle M'ill not be short, but 
 sharp and terribly decisive. A power that has no l)usiness 
 on the American continent, as a power wielded by a foreign 
 potentate, will be crushed forever b}' the hosts of human 
 libert}'. The votaries of this power are far-seeing, eager, 
 contident of success; exceedingly fond of power and pos- 
 sessed of the best religious organization the world has ever 
 seen for the accumulation and conservation of power. And 
 be assured they aim at nothing less than the entire subju- 
 gation of the American republic to their uses and purposes. 
 While they are determined and steady in their aim; the 
 others, though greatly in the majority, are indeterminate.
 
 THE COMING RELIGION. 135 
 
 scattered, antagonistic, and totally destitute of a well- 
 grounded religious polity — and seetn likely to remain with 
 a ruinous indiflerence until the horrors of the impending 
 conflict drive them to an appreciation of the circumstances 
 that surround them, and the dangers that threaten them. 
 As these things progress, the inherent weakness of 
 Protestantism becomes apparent. It becomes so plain that 
 the densest mind can no longer ignore the potent tact that 
 the Bible on which it is founded, i)eing full of errors, was 
 simply the product of the human intellect, like other books. 
 
 " They are compelled to perceive that there are but two 
 sides in this conflict; that they must go back and join the 
 power from which their forefathers parted, or go forward 
 and join the hosts of progressive liberty. Some from con- 
 servative motives, will go back, but will lie uneasily in their 
 chosen bed. 
 
 " When the people have taken sides there will come a 
 time when it must be decided which power will control this 
 government; a long-impending crisis will at length come, and 
 as has hap})ened before, the party in the wrong will throw 
 down the gage of battle, and the other party will be forced 
 to take it uj) or submit ignoniiniously to lose everything 
 that makes life valuable. As heretofore, the hosts of dark- 
 ness will gain some important victories; this will only serve 
 to unite firmly tlie hosts of liberty — they will fear that his- 
 tory may repeat itself; the shrieks of the victims of !St. Bar- 
 tholomew will pierce their ears, and they will hear the 
 clanking of the implements of the Inquisition. Then the 
 tide of battle will turn, and every move will hasten and 
 compel the total destruction of the great obstructive 2)Ower 
 on the American continent. When the victory is won and 
 the smoke of the conflict clears away, it will be seen that 
 the new religion and the new state will interblend their 
 harmonious forces like my fingers, one supjjorting the 
 others. 
 
 " Then it will be perceived that true religion is some- 
 thing more than an abstraction; that on earth it requires 
 an institution to express itself through, even as a spirit re- 
 quires a body; that it is a living, vital force, indispensable 
 to conserve the morals necessary to sound government and 
 wholesome society. The new religion having triunq)hed 
 over its foes, outgrown its childish weaknesses, and p<'tty 
 sects, hunuinity will enter on its long njillennium of pros-
 
 136 THK COMING RELIGION. 
 
 perity nud liapjiiness Lcj-ond the jjower of tlie ])resent ^en- 
 erutiou to conceive. So great will be tlio irnprnvejnent of 
 society that war will cease, prisons will be cliaiifred into 
 manufactories, and asylums to palaces of arts and scientific 
 research. Here and there a church may be found of those 
 who think that Adam and Eve were created perfect, and 
 the golden age lies in the distant past; these will linger 
 like winter in the lap of spring, or a glacier pushed down 
 to the very verge of the fruiling vineyards." 
 
 ^-^^^^r?^^
 
 Experience with Spirits 
 
 -FDR R— 
 
 Quarter of a Century, 
 
 On tlie first of October, 18G0, I landed in New York from 
 nearly a mouth's sea voyage, including tlie Isthmus tran- 
 sit. Those who have not experienced something of the kind, 
 can scarcely realize the pleasure and mental exhilaration 
 felt, after being pent up in a crowded ship for twenty daj's, 
 on reaching one's native shore. So boisterous was the ex- 
 pression of this in songs, jokes, laughter, and the like, on the 
 night preceding the landing that sleep was impossible. For 
 nine years I had led a rough life in California, banished 
 from the pleasures of what in older commanities we call 
 society. 
 
 I had a strong desire to investigate for myself the phe- 
 nomena of modern spiritualism. I liad seen nothing but 
 table-tii)ping, which was unsatisfactory because it was diffi- 
 cult to determine how much unconscious muscular action 
 and cerebration, might be mixed witli the psychic force in 
 producing the results seen. 
 
 I landed on Saturday, and on Sunday I attended a spirit- 
 ual lecture, at the close of which it was announced that 
 there would be a seance the next evening, naming the street 
 and number. I was an entire stranger to nearly ever}' per- 
 son in the city, and on inquiring if strangers were admitted 
 was told they were on i^ayment of twenty-five cents. Ac- 
 cording to intention I went, not expecting to participate 
 further than to be a looker-on. I found about a dozen men 
 and women sitting around an extension dining-table in a 
 doul)le parlor; otliers were sitting about tlie room. The 
 medium, Mrs. Malone, was sitting at the end of the table.
 
 138 EXPKIilENTE wrni SI-IICITK. 
 
 I took a seat at the table; soon tlio njedium Ijecame en- 
 tranced and seemed to personate some one dyin;^ of con- 
 sumption — seemed to have a liackiiig cougli and was dis- 
 tressed for breath. This was wholly novel to me, but 
 seemed not to be to others; some lowered the window to 
 relieve the distress of the medium, while one and another 
 inquired, " Is it my spirit friend?" About a year before, a 
 brother had, in common parlance, died, and also ten years 
 previous another. As was natural, my mind was fixed on 
 the one who had died recently. 
 
 To all other inquiries the medium shook her head and 
 motioned her hand toward me. 1 arose and took it and in- 
 quired, "Is this George V" She shook her head and took 
 her watch out of her belt, and laying it in her left hand 
 pointed to it with her right forefinger. I thought I de- 
 tected brother Matthew's expression of features on her face, 
 but of this I might be mistaken. But as he had been a 
 jeweler and worked wath watches, the watch feat convinced 
 me and I said, This is Matthew. She nodded assent. I 
 then addressed him and said: " Have you anything further 
 3'ou wish to communicate?" The medium took a pencil 
 and paper and wrote, "I have exhausted the medium in 
 making myself known; at another time I will answer all 
 your questions." 
 
 When a miner strikes the color or a few cents to the pan, 
 he follows it up hoping to find a rich lead; accordingly I 
 called on the medium the next day, and she passed into a 
 trance and I conversed for an hour with that brother, as if 
 face to face, talking of matters pertaining to our previous 
 life unknown to any person in the city. I inquired how 
 spirit life compared with the earth life? He said it 
 was far superior and inexpressibly glorious, but it was 
 impossible for him to give me an adequate idea of it then. 
 I have since thought that some unhappy' circumstances of 
 his earth life ma}' have had something to do with his feel- 
 ing in estimating the two conditions. To say that I was 
 convinced of the fact of spirit existence and communion 
 and was greath- delighted, is but a feeble expression of my 
 state of mind. 
 
 A. E. Horton, of San Diego, whose acquaintance I made 
 at the hotel where I was stopping, told me of a man wiio was 
 an excellent writing medium, who gave seances every week 
 at his house as an amateur, and made no charge for his ser-
 
 EXPERIENCE WITH SPIRITS. 139 
 
 vices, and offered to introduce me to biin without giviug 
 my name so as to help to get a test. I gladly accepted the 
 offer. I found him a plain man of about fifty, who worked 
 a farm in the vicinity. At the sitting, among others he 
 wrote a letter addressed to me, and signed the name 
 of the aforementioned brother, Matthew Allyn. This 
 letter was in a handwriting that resembled that of in}^ 
 brother, but in a marked degree the idiomatic expressions 
 were his, and also capital letters were used ofteuer than is 
 common, which was a habit with him. I kept the letter 
 ten years, and then, at her request, sent it to his oldest 
 daughter, then married to Tiiomas Ogden of Wellington, 
 .Ohio. 
 
 The spirits urged me to engage in lecturing, to promul- 
 gate the fact and philosophy of spirit intercourse with 
 mortals. After visiting my friends in Ohio I did so, giving 
 some twenty lectures, wading through snow, mud, and 
 sleet to till my appointments. Twenty years later on visit- 
 ing that part of the country I found some good spiritualists 
 as fruits of my humble and unsupported labors. The pre- 
 monitory mutterings of the civil war were then thick in the 
 air, and I reluctantly concluded that the public mind was too 
 much excited with approaching troubles to be easily inter- 
 ested in supra-mundane affairs. My labors and exposure 
 to a climate more severe than I had been accustomed to 
 caused a severe sickness, in the spring while in New York. 
 
 AN .\PPARITION AND WHAT CAME OF IT. 
 
 In March, 18G1, I went to Dr. Jackson's water cure near 
 Dansville, in western New York. I came to the conclu- 
 sion that I must soon return to California. Six months had 
 passed and I had met with no one who seemed quite adapted 
 to be my companion for the balance of life's journey. I 
 was about to turn my back upon every relative I had in the 
 world and put the Kocky mountains and two thousand 
 miles between me and them. I realized what every intelligent 
 person must know, that at that period California was a poor 
 place to find a wife. I felt lonely and sad. It seemed that 
 a crisis in my fate had arrived, and I felt that it was not 
 good to be alone. At this time the apparition of a lady ap- 
 peared dressed in Quaker drab. I knew not either the cause 
 or significance of this visitor. I soon went to New York
 
 140 EXPEUIENCE WITH SI'IKITS. 
 
 city with its half a milliou, witli scarce an excei)tiou stran- 
 gers to me. I soon met the lady represented by said vision 
 and knew her on sig'ht. We were married, and on our way 
 to California early in June, while the soldiers were gather- 
 ing for the great struggle for union and liberty. 
 
 WHAT OCCUUREl) OX THE PASSAGE. 
 
 Contrary to my expectations, the steamer was crowded with 
 about a thousand passengers, some fleeing from impending 
 trouble. On the passage I made the acquaintance of Vic- 
 tor Smith, a fellow-passenger, with a commission in his 
 pocket as Collector of Customs for Puget Sound district. I 
 told him I had spent several years there and knew some- 
 thing of the climate, country, and people. He said the au- 
 thorities wished to ascertain what the actual cost of keeping 
 the patients at the Marine Hospital was. They had been kept 
 on contract at a dollar and a half a day each, and he thought 
 there was a great profit at that. He said that it was neces- 
 sary to let the contract at a fixed sum, with a verbal agree- 
 ment to return to the government all but a fixed salary. 
 He wished to find some reliable man to undertake this. Be- 
 fore the end of our voyage he oft'ered me the position which 
 I accepted, and faithfully carried out the project, and re- 
 turned in one year over four thousand dollars to the gov- 
 ernment in its time of sore need. My position was no sine- 
 cure; in fact, the care and labor Avere too much for my slen- 
 der constitution, and for this and other causes I left at the 
 expiration of the terms of the contract, and went to Vic- 
 toria to improve some property I had there. I continued 
 until the winter of 186J: when it seemed necessary to find a 
 place on American soil for permanent settlement. I had 
 some doubt whether to go to Seattle, then a mere hamlet 
 in the wilderness ; or to Oakland, California, a suburb of 
 San Francisco, of two thousand inhabitants. Again my 
 spirit friends came to my assistance and decided the 
 matter by this couplet: 
 
 " Make your home under tlie oak tree's shade 
 And not under that by the pine-tree made." 
 
 I did so. Oakland grew rapidly, and m^' little investment 
 proved a small bonanza which has since been a refuge and 
 solace.
 
 EXPERIENCE WITH SPIRITS. 141 
 
 The question may arise here, Will sjiiritsbelp us to make 
 money ? My experience and observation lead me to the 
 conclusion that if our motives are pure, and we desire means 
 to enable us to do good, we may attract a highly developed 
 class of spirits who may help us to accumulate property; 
 but if our motives are siraplj' to aggrandize ourselves and 
 outshine our neighbors, the class of spirits we will attract 
 ma}' mislead us to serious loss. I could give many in- 
 stances to illustrate this. 
 
 SLATE-WUITING. 
 
 For eight years I have occasionally had slate writings by 
 some force unknown to science, signed by some spirit friend. 
 The best were had this year by the mediumship of Mrs. C. 
 L. Reid, between two slates which I saw washed off clean 
 and a bit of pencil put between. I could hear the writing 
 distinctly. I wrote questions on slips of paper, folded them 
 up closely, and laid them on the slates, which I held in my 
 two hands. Tlie questions were perfectly answei'ed, and 
 three ticks of the pencil indicated that the writing was fin- 
 ished. On opening them they were filled with writing 
 in a plain hand. The first slate was signed "Mother," ex- 
 pressing great pleasure at having such an opportunity to 
 communicate. The next slate, in a different style, gave a 
 medical prescription, some good advice, and closed with this 
 original verse: 
 
 " Millions and millions of ages shall roll, 
 Progression eser the theme of your soul; 
 By heanty and grandeur your soul shall he led, 
 And worlds witiiout nuniher your spirit shall tread." 
 
 — Sirt'ilcii/ion/. 
 
 I wish to say that in 1867 I spent six months in lectur- 
 ing on spiritualism through Sonoma, Napa, Santa Cruz, and 
 Sacramento counties, which was a labor of love but not of 
 j)rofit. I have seen materializations and dematerializations 
 once; but do not wish to particularize, as I did not have an 
 opportunity to repeat the sitting so as to study it maturely.
 
 Poems, 
 
 ELECTION RHYMES. 
 
 To Doctor Glenn, 
 I said amen — 
 Anil took it back, 
 But still dill lack — 
 The votes to go 
 
 To Sacramento. 
 
 (ilenn and I two horses rode. 
 Along the dry and dusty road, 
 But we alike were badly thrown, 
 Before the office found its own. 
 
 We daV)blcd in the filthy pool. 
 And soiled our garments like a fool. 
 And yet we were a wretched tool — 
 To help the R"s to Sacramento. 
 
 And now Macvay 
 
 Has gained the day — 
 
 He will also have his say ; 
 
 And railroads too will still bear sway, 
 
 And Chinamen will karn to pray — 
 
 And stock sharps have another day — 
 
 And we big taxes still must pay. 
 
 And Pellet, too, has lost the race. 
 Although upon the wiiniiug pace — 
 And up Salt river he must sail, 
 And like poor Rachel he must wail. 
 
 And now the voting all is over. 
 We'll take a sail up the Salt river. 
 And farmer White will there appear— 
 And farmer Gardner in the rear.
 
 POEMS. 
 
 143 
 
 Had bilks ami chivs joined Fanner White, 
 The outcome would liave lieen all right — 
 They would have saved the Golden State, 
 And next year reached the ^\'hite House gate. 
 
 But now that splendiil chance is o'er— 
 They ne'er will reach the White House more. 
 Because they put up Doctor Glenn, 
 And I, alas, did say amen. 
 
 — N^oveniher, li>78. 
 
 THE MAIDS OF ST. HELENA. 
 
 To call one maid divinely fair 
 When hundreds more are blooming there, 
 With grace and beauty, rich and rare: 
 It may be true, Init scarce is fair. 
 
 True, St. Helena's massive mountain. 
 And Calistoga's steaming fountain, 
 O'erlook a valley none surpasses 
 Kor stalwart men, and l)onny lasses, 
 For Mowers, and vines, and lovely grasses. 
 
 On the left is Howell Mountain, 
 
 From whose breast springs Conn creek fountain 
 
 And wild cascades can there Ije found, 
 
 Witli rainbows painted on the ground. 
 
 On the ri^dit Mt. Henry stands, 
 Whose twin peaks overlook fair lands, 
 >\nd all the serrate riilgc along, 
 Would claim a mention in a song. 
 
 Tiie vineyards on the rounded hill 
 Instinct with lovely beauty; still 
 The vineyards on the level plain, 
 And waving fields of golden grain, 
 
 Sliould surely take a poefs eye. 
 
 And not be passed so coldly by. 
 
 So over-praise is iiardly fair, 
 
 When hosts of girls are blooming there. 
 
 —June 1, 1S80.
 
 144 
 
 LINES. 
 
 AddrcBScd to Judge and Mrs. W. A. Haekin, nt their Ooldeu Wedding. 
 
 By JoH.i Allyn. 
 
 Wlicii tliis okl century was young, 
 Cupid liis arrows widely Hung, 
 Until at length his honeyed darts, 
 Reached their aim and pierced your hearts. 
 
 Fiftj' eventful years have come, 
 4^ince your young hearts found a home: 
 Fifty pregnant yeais have lied, 
 Since at tlie altar you were wed. 
 
 Full fifty years of wedded bliss, 
 Are rare in such an age as this; 
 When courts are facile — laws are loose, 
 And often slips the marriage noose. 
 
 We greet yon here with song and story; 
 Although your hea<ls are sliglitl}' hoary. 
 Your love is bright and unabated, 
 As when your young hearts first were mated. 
 
 With this world's goods not over-blest. 
 Like Greeley's young man, you went west: 
 The placers of our Golden State, 
 Allured you to j-oiir happy fate. 
 
 Six months you toiletl through dust and rain. 
 
 This promised paradise to gain: 
 
 Unlike some Western men, I reckon. 
 
 You saved your scalps, but liot your bacon. 
 
 And as the wild Sierras crossed. 
 
 And fragrant pines their branches tossed, 
 
 The imi>nlse of the vernal wood 
 
 Gave you health and moral good. 
 
 'Twas thus in eighteen fortj'-nine, 
 In woman's glory, manhood's prime; 
 Our sunny skies and fruitful soil. 
 Rewarded all your weary toil. 
 
 And when yon viewed fair Napa's plain, 
 Y'ou wisely said, "We'll here remain;" 
 Go 'round the world — 'tis surelj- truc^ 
 You will not find a fairer view, 
 Nay, if yon search the realms of space, 
 You'll scarcely find a better place.
 
 POEMS. 145 
 
 One ilauylitei- fair, 
 Of Ijcauty rare, 
 Among the rest. 
 Your home has Ijlest. 
 
 Seven sons still live to call you blest. 
 And you have faith that all the rest 
 Live in a world of greater bliss 
 Than the most happy can in this. 
 
 Your grandchildren wlio still survive. 
 Count up at least full tliirty-live: 
 And if your children live and tlirive, 
 They'll swarm like Ijees in summer hive. 
 
 Wheneartidy joys can charm no more, 
 And Charon Uindly rows you o'er. 
 Your faith is firm that on that shore 
 You'll there be mated evermore; 
 
 That as you join the angel throng, 
 
 And countless ages roll along, 
 
 Y'^our love will glow still unaliated. 
 
 As when your youthfid hearts were mated. 
 
 —Nocernlier, 1S70 
 
 Tbe eftbrt was a happy one, and its good bits were 
 heartily enjoyed and applauded by tbe audience, and tbe 
 Doctor was fintlier rewarded by a bouquet from a fair 
 admirer. — St. Helena Star. 
 
 i^TNA SPRINGS (California). 
 
 The jagge<l peaks and rmimU'd niount.s 
 Look out (in .-l^tna's healing founts: 
 In every little dell around, 
 Lovel}' evergreens abound. 
 
 Ozone is brought by every breeze 
 
 That comes from pine and healing trees, 
 
 And every rising sun we see 
 
 With silver sheens the lone pine tree.
 
 14() POKMS. 
 
 Under tlio wliite oak's sprcc'KliDg Iwuglis 
 We waU'li tlie turn of tlie i>olishc<l plows, 
 VVliilu trees upon tlieslopinj^ liill 
 Tlie finest sense of beauty thrill. 
 
 Tlie moonshine nights and lively jokes 
 Makes lovers young of wedded folks: 
 Music floats on the balmy air, 
 Inspiring each eager, waiting pair 
 To serve the goddess Terpsicliore, 
 Till ten o'clock — and sometimes more. 
 
 The lowing kine come home at night, 
 
 To fill the buckets foaming white; 
 
 The ranch gives grapes, so fresh and sweet. 
 
 And other fruits to cook and eat, 
 
 The lame can walk, the blind can see, 
 
 The old are filled with joy and glee. 
 
 — October, ISSO. 
 
 THE AMERICAN FLAG. 
 
 Lines read by Dr. Allyn at the political meeting, November, 1880. 
 
 That flag now floats a nation o'er, 
 And there 'twill float for evermore; 
 Surviving foenian's shouts and jeers — 
 It waved above the loyal cheers. 
 
 Let the nation speak in thunder tones, 
 
 Echoing from plains to mountain cones — 
 
 He who tights against that flag, or trails it in the dust. 
 
 Never shall an office hold, or any post of trust. 
 
 Full fifty millions free and brave 
 Live where this splendid banner waves, 
 And boys and girls are now alive 
 Who'll see a hundred million thrive. 
 
 Let Europe's teeming thousands come 
 To find with us a happy home, 
 The a>gis of its ample folds 
 Protects the land and all it holds. 
 
 The flag that led the loj-al hosts 
 Now floats in triumph through our coasts; 
 'Twill save the people brave and pure. 
 While stars shall shine or sun endure.
 
 POEMS. 147 
 
 The flag that hiavetl a Imiuhed j'cars, 
 Tlirougli l)attle spark, througli rel>el cheers, 
 Sliall hold tlie Union most secure 
 While moon shall last or sun endure. 
 
 POEM. 
 
 On the TeutU Anniversary of Dr. and Mrs. G. B. Crane's Wedding 
 
 By Dr. John Allyn. 
 
 Two Pioneers of great ambition 
 Sought ample fields for hope's fruition — • 
 You climbed tiie rugged hill of life 
 With otlier liusl)aiul, other wife — 
 Both wci'c lured by science and art; 
 Both took the good Samaritan's part. 
 
 The Doctor plied tiie Ivealing art, 
 With equal skill and kindly heart; 
 Not given to work for paltry ]ielf. 
 He failed somewhat tu " heel" himself. 
 
 But when you reached life's summit's crest. 
 You found you were not wholly blest. 
 
 Cheerless — and lonely — the prospect seemed 
 And life with petty troubles teemed. 
 
 Love opened up a splendid vision 
 And showed you boundless fields elysian — 
 Love adds a cliarni to nature's beautj'. 
 And lightens all the patlis of duty. 
 
 Thus on life's summit there you stand, 
 Witli heart to heart and hand to iiaud; 
 And l)eing joined with silken tetlier 
 Descend tiie shady slope togetiier. 
 
 Society an<l hosts of frieiuis 
 
 And angels shout tlieii' glad aniens; 
 
 True hospitality abounds. 
 
 Plenty and peace your home has crownc<l. 
 
 In tlie sweetest vale of all the earth 
 Tiie liride was cheered by a blazing hearth, 
 Plenty of books whose ample pages 
 Conserved the lore of all the ages.
 
 148 POEMS, 
 
 As if l)y Minl.iiii's inajj;ic spoil, 
 This liouso was raist-d so nice ami well; 
 IJiit still tliu lnaitli anil books are found; 
 Like Bancjiio's gliost — tliey will not down. 
 
 .Science now moves with ia])id stride 
 And ancient landmarks seem to slide — 
 Better this decade passed away 
 Than stupid leons of Cathay. 
 
 HeM work'd for temperance all his life, 
 Nor etill gave up the noble strife; 
 If Christ made wine at Cana's feast, 
 He'd try the " rabbit patch " at least. 
 If we only had jiure wine enougli, 
 It would save from Hoods of viler stuff. 
 
 The once foi'l)idding gi'avel land 
 Has smiled beneath your skillful hand: 
 Witli wealth your efforts have been crowned, 
 And generous charities abound. 
 
 And now, dear friends, this wedding eve, 
 Love's tribute here your neighbors leave. 
 May heaven your blessings still increase, 
 And guide you to the realms of peace. 
 
 DECORATION DAY, 1882. 
 For the St. Helena celebration. By Dn. Joes Alltn. 
 
 ^Yhere rest the <lead heroes, once valiant and brave, 
 The Hag of our Union forever shall wave 
 Over each of our soldiers' well-honored grave. 
 
 On this our nation's holiday, 
 Let patriotic zeal l)ear sway ; 
 And far as smiling peace is found. 
 Let pure fraternal love abound. 
 
 Rest, soldier, in your hallowed grave — 
 
 Your country's warfare now is o"er; 
 No cannon's roar w ill face tiie lirave — 
 
 The drum's roll-beat will call no more. 
 
 No bugle's blast will wake from sleep 
 And dreams of home or child and wife. 
 
 Again to ]iaiiiful vigils keep, 
 Ur enter into deadly strife.
 
 149 
 
 No (l^'ing groans will pierce the air, 
 Or wouuile<l comrade vvritlie in )iain ; 
 
 Where curses mingle \\ith the prajer 
 Of him who ne'er will pray again. 
 
 Your souls, we trust, will hover round 
 And' smile serene from viewless air; 
 
 As choicest Howers strew the ground, 
 
 Whose fragrance is your country's prayer. 
 
 All lionor to our soldiers' name — 
 Naught shall disturb their well-earned fame; 
 They fought for you, they fought for me, 
 And countless millions j'et to be. 
 
 The pomp of war did not allure them— 
 The press-gangs rough diil not procure them : 
 Their country called, and they obeyed, 
 And simple duty they essayed. 
 
 Some left their aged parents' side ; 
 iSome left a blooming, weepin^bride ; 
 Some served three years, to tlien return, 
 And some were laid beneath the uin. 
 
 Go search through history's blood-stained page, 
 Through every land, througli every age — 
 No warring host that fac<-d each other. 
 Where brotlier often fought with brother — 
 So strove where mind and cnncience blended, 
 Until the fearful contest ended. 
 
 Grim-visaged War then smoothed his front. 
 And smiling peace resumed her wont; 
 And as the loyal work was endeil 
 Each hero's way was wended — 
 Took up the tangled thi-ead of life, 
 And strove to comfort child and wife. 
 
 The circumstance of glorious war 
 Had lost its charm ; they ilid abhor 
 The tctlious, frati-icidal strife — 
 Once more adoring civic life. 
 
 'Othello's occupation 's gone,' 
 Now this great land is joined in one," 
 \\'as heard throughout this matchless nation, 
 Without its tragic intonation. 
 
 It makes no tlilTercncc with the brave, 
 A\'hcther alive or in the grave; 
 One character pervades them all. 
 High or low, great or small.
 
 150 
 
 Tlic'ir ineiiiory will iicvor iicrir*!! — 
 'J'lic'ir fdiiie a jjiatft'iil laii(l will ciierish 
 Kar as the eagle's piiiioii.s spread 
 Is li()iii!ij,'L' to the nati(jii's dead. 
 
 Their spiiits haunt tlie hazy iiiouiitaiiis, 
 And glide about the si)arkling fonntains; 
 The smallest rill, the mightiest river, 
 Floios miii;//uiij irilh their iri-(iilhs fori-rir! 
 
 And praise the Blue full high you may — 
 A\'e i)ass no sentenee on the (!rey ; 
 Leave them with coiiscienee and with (Jod, 
 As all are left beneath the sod. 
 
 Let all dead issues of the past 
 No longer live, no longer last; 
 Live — in the living present live — 
 To future hopes your efforts give. 
 
 Let all unkindness and all hate 
 Lie buried deep as^opeless fate: 
 No resurrection give it life, 
 To ripen in fraternal strife. 
 
 Prosperity shall smile forever 
 O'er hill and lake, o'er plain and river; 
 Science, high art and education 
 Shall lift and bless each occupation. 
 
 The water dancing from the hill.s 
 Shall serve unnumbered cotton mills; 
 The Mississippi safe shall flow 
 Between strong dykes from Cairo. 
 
 The yellow fever's dreaded scourge 
 Shall disappear within our verge ; 
 Malarious districts shall be sweet, 
 And produce anijjly bread and meat. 
 
 Our grand Sierra's snowy crest 
 Shall overlook a land most blest ; 
 The water from a thousand rills — 
 From purling streams along the hills — 
 Shall fertilize the terraced grouiul. 
 Where fruit and wheat and vines abound. 
 
 Then the Angel of Peace shall utter from far. 
 Our trium])hs, man, are far better than war! 
 Save but the result that the slaves were made free. 
 And the Union preserved for their grand jubilee.
 
 POEMS, 151 
 
 Let patriotic zeal bear swaj' 
 On tliis our Decoration daj' ; 
 And far as lovely j^eace is found. 
 Let iiure, fraternal love abound. 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. JAMES L. RIDGELY, 1881. 
 
 Road at his fuueral celebration l>y St. Heleua Lodge I. O. O. F. 
 
 His useful life was quite complete, 
 AVith works of love it v^■as replete ; 
 \Vu mourn not that lie's gone before, 
 Tiie loss is ours, his gain is more. 
 
 The sympathetic tear will fall 
 For family, friends, and brothers all. 
 His spirit leaves the worn-out clay 
 To seek the realms of endless day. 
 
 The first decade our order knew, 
 Our brother was most firm and true. 
 Through struggles of each late decade 
 His laurels bright will never fade. 
 
 Our history he's written well ; 
 To latest ages it will tell — 
 How from the germ of early years 
 It triumphed o'er its foes and fears. 
 
 Ambitious schemes were laid aside; 
 Mis faithful work will long al>ide. 
 Cities unbuilt will love him well, 
 And countless hosts his goodness tell. 
 
 Odd Fellows will forever cherish 
 His memory ; 'twill never perish. 
 In distant isles liis works al)ound ; 
 Li foreign climes thej- 'le also found. 
 
 California's sunny plain. 
 And her ])iles of golden grain, 
 From her vineyards, l)right and green ; 
 From tiie Sierra's silvery sheen ; 
 
 From jagged peaks and rounded hills. 
 From giant trees and murmuring rills ; 
 From silver mines with golden grains. 
 From Nevada's sage-brush plains ;
 
 152 
 
 From tlio moiiiitaiii.s and tlie moorland, 
 From ricli prairies and from woodland ; 
 From great cities, commerce-laden, 
 Come heart tribute, all unbidden. 
 
 His fame will rise from sparklinj^ fountains, 
 And eciio from tlie lofty mountains; 
 Great lakes will catcli tlie oiiwai-d strain, 
 And waft it o'er the ocean's main. 
 
 Our Order spreads from State to State, 
 And has become both strong and great ; 
 Our banner Hoats in foreign climes, 
 And will go down to latest times. 
 
 The news was spread from shore to shore ; 
 Our brother "s earthly toils were o'er. 
 The sad word all our brothers reaches, 
 Will ponder well the lesson teaches. 
 
 Ridgely has joined the lodge above, 
 Of fadeless beaut}% purest love. 
 To sing of fiiendship, love and truth, 
 With joyful life and fadeless youth. 
 
 His earthly work at Itngth is done ; 
 His second life is now begun ; 
 Ou that bright shore he will progress ; 
 Sages and saints his spirit bless. 
 
 Good works on earth will be his jo}'; 
 No earthly cares will there annoy ; 
 Di.stress relieved and orphans blessed, 
 Will sootlie his soul's sereuest rest. 
 
 REPUBLICAN CAMPAIGN SONG, 1882. 
 
 By John Allyn. 
 
 Republicans now have a man 
 Triumphantly to lead the van, 
 
 While we march on to victory. 
 
 The Democrats must now be led 
 By an official ligure-head, 
 
 As we march on to victory. 
 
 The workman's "rest and recreation" 
 Will then be safe from desecration. 
 When we march on to victory.
 
 POEMS. 153 
 
 No gree<ly soulless corporation 
 Can tlien ineveiit the recreation. 
 Of toiling millions yet to be. 
 
 The railroad power now dread the iiour 
 When Moiris Estee conies to power, 
 
 To tone down tiie freights and fares. 
 
 No more will they discriminate 
 Against the struggling of our State, 
 
 Wlien we've marched on to victory. 
 
 M. Estee is the coming man. 
 And foes can beat him if they can, 
 While we march on to victory. 
 
 Stoneman will surely fail again, 
 As he did in days of yore, when — 
 Siiei'Mian marclied unto the sea. 
 
 I beg that you will all i-emember 
 The seventh day of next November, 
 P^or tlie figure-head 
 Will then be dead, 
 
 And Estee be our governor. 
 
 WOOLEN WEDDING OF MR. AND MRS. H. E. ALDEN. 
 
 By D«. J. All,v^. 
 
 In tlie roaring loom of time 
 Some wool is coarse, and some is fine, 
 Ami in fabrics made or bougiiten 
 The wool is often mixed with cotton. 
 
 This symbols forth our morfci! life, 
 Where purest love is marred by strife ; 
 But who'd abide life's hard conditions 
 If sweetened not by love's fruitions"' 
 
 For ten long years in town and grove 
 You reveled in unwed<lcd love — 
 A lengthy courtship, it would seem, 
 But (piickly passed in love's young dream- 
 Then found a far more grand ideal 
 In wedded life amid the real. 
 10
 
 154 
 
 The briile was raised with Quaker |>eoj)le, 
 Who like tlie chureh, Imt not the .stee|>le- 
 Both plain of dross, ami plain of sj)eech, 
 They very seldom overreach. 
 
 But Quaker drab could not control 
 The tastes of an iesthctic soul ; 
 The highest art of niodern dress 
 That taste alone could well express. 
 
 Two children blessed your wedded love; 
 Alice is iiere-and one al)ove. 
 Say not that you have ' loved and lost,' 
 For when the border you have cnjssed, 
 You'll see her bloom with angels bright, 
 In boundless love and purest white. 
 
 From farthest East to utmost West 
 You sougiit prosperity and rest. 
 Prosperity has blessed j'our store, 
 And given promise of mueii more. 
 
 Accept our kind congratulations : 
 We wish au.spicions cunstellation.s. 
 These lines express no lofty pai'ts. 
 But simple tribute of oui- hearts. 
 
 SONG OF HOPE. 
 
 By John Allyx. 
 
 The jagged peaks and rounded mounts 
 Look out on .^i^tna's healing founts. 
 And every little dell around 
 With lovely evergreens abound — 
 And all the smooth, bald ridge along. 
 Deserves a mention in our song. 
 
 The red deer range upon the hill. 
 And tufted quail, at their sweet will ; 
 And as the wooded mount we cross. 
 And giant trees their branches toss, 
 The impulse of the vernal wood 
 Will give ns health and moral good. 
 
 Upon the smoothly polished floor 
 We serve the goddess Terpischore 
 'Till ten o'clock, and sometimes more ; 
 And every morning sun we see 
 With silver sheens the lone pine tree.
 
 155 
 
 On Sunday, if we're so inclined, 
 We seek some loftier good to find— 
 Incjuire our being's end and aim, 
 Aud whence this Ijreathing, vital frame. 
 
 Why so much sin and suffering here ; 
 Why life is oft so dull and drear ; 
 Our anchor, Hope, so often lifted. 
 As o'er life's stormy seas we're drifted '! 
 
 When Meeting hreath we cannot keep, 
 Shall we repose in dreamless sleep. 
 Or shall we find a fairer shore, 
 Where sin and suffering are no more? 
 
 Or will a few be highly blest 
 To view the torture of the rest? 
 Can sympathy become quite dead. 
 And think of thi^ witiiout a dread? 
 
 Though sol\ e these problems as we maj', 
 Tliey vanish witii the working day ; 
 The path of duty still is cleai'. 
 And love remains to bless and cheer. 
 
 Now lift our souls to orbs of light, 
 Which sparkle in the dome of niglit; 
 Though space is boundless, still 'twill .seem 
 That law and order reign supreme. 
 Sliall moral chaos curse us here, 
 Anil splendid order reign up there? 
 
 The household nursery is a place 
 Almost devoid of gentle grace ; 
 The s-tronger boys will tyrants play, 
 And gentler sisters must obey ; 
 'i'iic iilace a v<'!y bfdlani seems, 
 I)isturliing grandiia's liiippy dreams. 
 While fun and fiolic rule tiie hour 
 Tiieie's constant growth to niaidy power ; 
 Muscle and nerve now have tlieir day 
 Where moral truth may yet bear sway. 
 
 If cartli is but the \estil)ule 
 
 Of great Natuie's training-school, 
 
 ^\'lu■re spirit works through brain antl muscle, 
 
 (Jaining strength with every tussle — 
 
 If, )iassing from this ]iiimal school. 
 
 We find enjoyment there the rule — 
 
 That jnsticj, truth, and love prevail. 
 Ami wiong an<l hate cannot assail ;
 
 156 I'oiiMs. 
 
 The ," rai.son iTc'tre" may appe;!!' 
 To us poor sinners lingering; liere. 
 The chain of being is complete 
 From microscopic wriggler iieie 
 To serapli in tlie upper spliore. 
 
 Tlie soul tiiat leaves the worn-out clay 
 To seek the realms of fairer <lay, 
 Will scarce be left without a gimli- 
 To aid it through the ethereal tiile. 
 But v\hereS()e'er a home they Hud, 
 They'll surely leave the road beliiml. 
 Having grasped liis new-found treasure, 
 And sated «ith supernal pleasure, 
 •Some sympathy might still be found 
 For those who walk this solid ground — 
 The place which gave him primal birth — 
 The little globe yclei)t the earth, 
 Still might claim some small attention. 
 And, perchance, some intervention. 
 
 But how to reach them — there's the rub. 
 For, from circumference to the hub, 
 Men seek tlieir profit or their pleasure 
 In earnest work — or earnest leisure. 
 
 Men send their thoughts unfelt, unseen, 
 Through oceans" deptiis, o'er mountains sheen. 
 If zinc and copper l)atteries seive, 
 Why not more perfect brain and nerve 
 Convey bright thoughts from higher sphere. 
 To light our groping darkness here ': 
 
 Some, alas, witii truth will say, 
 
 We've sought this thing for many a day. 
 
 And found that fraud blocked up the way ; 
 
 AVe paid our dollar, saw the sight. 
 
 And then passed on in doubtful light. 
 
 So silver mines were worked by frauil. 
 And stocks spread ruin all al)road ; 
 But silver mines still yield their treasure 
 To purchase bread and \)&y for pleasure ; 
 So grains of truth maj' yet be found 
 "Mid heaps of chaff and hollow sound : 
 The luinest seeker sure may tind 
 A healing Vialm for troubled mind. 
 
 -Jidji 15, JS82.
 
 ' I'OKMS. 157 
 
 DEMOCRATIC DIRGE. 
 
 Hail Miigli.sli ponied up the tin, 
 "J'is sail ti) think wliat mij^ht have been ; 
 We might have savcil the Hoosier State, 
 And tlius escaped our wretched fate. 
 
 Had we got up a glorious boom, 
 It would have fixed ])oor GarfieUVs doom. 
 The first campaign, way down in Maine, 
 Proved to us a dreadful bane. 
 
 We caught in Weaver's warp and woof. 
 When we should iiave stood aloof; 
 Money we wanted; all the same. 
 Hard or soft, it was our game. 
 
 The tariff was a local thing. 
 If voters to us it would bring. 
 We threw an awful sight of mud, 
 But to the cause it did no gooil. 
 
 H;iiiiuni sold us to the deil. 
 And IK) comiiuin'tiiin seemed to feel. 
 Our souls ill- gri]i])ed as in a vice. 
 And then \\ithheld the pleasant price. 
 
 We only gained the golden State, 
 Just to seal poor Terry's fate; 
 And now, alas, the White House door 
 We ne'er shall enter any more ; 
 Nevermoie, nevermore. 
 
 -Nonmlx r, ISSU. 
 
 The " fjem " of tlie evciiino- wns (lie following original 
 poem re.'id by Dr. Allyn in his usual clear and forcible 
 style. At the unanimous request of the club the Doctor has 
 permitted us to ))ul)li'<li tlio same, which we here insert — 
 Si. Hrlnni Shtr. 
 
 THANKSGIVING HYMN. 
 Head at St. H«'lpiia Kcmlint,' Clnl). Novoinbi-r. 1882. 
 
 Tiiou Power Sujireme of all the ages, 
 
 That guides and rules the flight of time, 
 
 Dindy perceived I)}' seei's aiul sages 
 Deign to inspire this humble rhyme.
 
 158 
 
 'J'lif ofh.H tliat roll tliioiigli lioiiiiclloss apace 
 And twinkle in tlie dome <jf night, 
 
 Maj' teacli onr souls some gentle grace 
 And till our licartH with thanks and light. 
 
 .Some worlds abound with lurid fire, 
 No sentient thing can iireathe or live; 
 
 Some sputter still with seething mire 
 But lowest forms of life can give. 
 
 We thank the Power of Life Supreme, 
 
 Our lot is cast in latest ages, 
 Tiiough all the i)ast seems l)ut a dieani 
 
 As back we turn great Nature's pages. 
 
 Species in countless hosts abound 
 Who greatly fear— oi- truly love us, 
 
 We"re lord of all beneath — around, 
 And only angels still above us. 
 
 We're thankful that our lot is cast 
 Where Freedom's soil is unpolluted, 
 
 No despot's band the State lias grasped 
 And manhood's joys are undiluted. 
 
 We bless Thee that our lot is cast 
 To reap the noblest fruits of Time, 
 
 If we but learn from all the past 
 To make humanity sublime. 
 
 We're grateful that within our border 
 
 (ientle peace now smiles serene. 
 And ever} where are law and order. 
 
 And brightest ho[ es spring fresh and greeu. 
 
 No pestilential deadly scourge 
 
 Fills our land with woe and mourning; 
 
 No unruled pas.sicpus seethe and surge, 
 The people's hearts to strife returning. 
 
 With rapturous joy our hearts o'erHow 
 
 That worship now is free as air. 
 No persecution's demon blow 
 
 Can blight the budding tlowers of prayer. 
 
 Our grateful hearts witii thanks abound 
 That through our glorious, happy land, 
 
 Good education now is found 
 
 To foster truth with lilnral hand.
 
 POEMS. 159 
 
 Wf Idess tlie Power of Life Sublime 
 That tield and forest, stream and glen, 
 
 Abound with clioicest fruits of time 
 To satisfy the needs of men. 
 
 And on this l^ilj^riins' festal day 
 
 Whether the sky be brigiit or murky. 
 
 Whatever else we do or say, 
 We're truly thankful for the turkey. 
 
 ANNIVERSARY CELEBRATION OF ST. HELENA 
 LODGE, I. O. O. F. 
 
 By John Allyn. 
 
 On this anniversary meeting 
 
 Of Odd Fellows" joyful greeting, 
 From aged sii-e to Hery youth 
 
 We sing of "Frienilship, Love, and Truth." 
 
 Imagination's soaring wing, 
 
 (.)r fancy's high estiietic taste, 
 .Might tempt sulilimer themes to sing. 
 
 Still all might prove a dreary waste. 
 
 Wliile others seek tiie bauble fame. 
 
 And wear their lives out for a name. 
 Our souls shouhl stri\'e to rise abo\c 
 
 And live for Fricndsliip, Truth, and Love. 
 
 We place no chains on human tliought, 
 
 For mind is never to be l)ou>{ht; 
 Believe and vote j\ist as you will — - 
 
 Cherish fraternal friendshiii still. 
 
 We ve constantly increased our store; 
 
 We've scattered inucli — but gathered more; 
 All in prosperous days must give, 
 
 Tliat sweetest charity may live. 
 
 W^hen husbands [)ass the mortal border. 
 
 Widows have cause to bless our Order ; 
 Our orphans we nuist educate - 
 
 Visit tile sick— their pains abate. 
 Relieve distress wherever found, 
 
 Our dead we place beneath tlie ground.
 
 160 
 
 TliiH Lodge lias kept these inaxiiiis well 
 
 As all our liistoiy will tell — 
 rrosperity lias .siiiilerl serene, 
 
 And brightest hopes spiing fresh and green. 
 
 Thirteen years this lodge has flourished ; 
 
 Full ninety nieniliers it has nourished 
 In pleasant honds of love fraternal, 
 
 And li-t us hope they'll prove eternal. 
 
 -January .?0, 1S83. 
 
 HALF A CENTURY AGO. 
 
 (Supplement to the Barkhamsted Reiuiuisceuces, No. Twenty. Two.) 
 By John Alltn. 
 
 Sweet strawberries grew on the meadow sandy. 
 
 And for roving boys they wei-e very handy, 
 
 And under the grass along the hill, 
 
 A hungry hid could find his till. 
 
 I've boen where writers ever boast, 
 
 Along the famed Pacific coast. 
 
 That berries ripen through the year — 
 
 Although the hills are brown and sere, 
 
 Though large, luscious, and red- but still 
 
 The}- were sweeter far on my native hill. 
 
 Along the giand Pacific slope 
 
 Where salmon to river fountains grope — 
 
 Where the darkly speckled native trout 
 
 Came spying in, and darting out - 
 
 But the sweetest trout that ever I took 
 
 With small scoop-net, or l)arbed hook, 
 
 Were caught in the pools of Beaver brook. 
 
 The little brown school-house on tine gi'een 
 
 Will never lose its charming sheen. 
 
 And school-mates I ah ! most have gone before, 
 
 I trust to find a brighter shore. 
 
 And my teachers? I learn that some still live, 
 
 And may they enjoy what God can give. 
 
 Not far away is a water-worn page. 
 Nature's record of the great Ice Age — 
 I filled my pockets with arrow-heads, 
 Rifled from the makers' native bed. 
 That tell of a race that have long since fled. 
 
 — iv.>J.
 
 POEMS. 161 
 
 SONS OF BARKHAMSTED. 
 
 From Litchfield county has gone forth, 
 The {(I'eatest preacher of tlie earth : 
 For fiction of the moral cast, 
 H. B. Stowe's was ne'er surpassed. 
 
 Barkhamsted's sons are scattered wide. 
 From the Hudson's swelling tide, 
 To where the surging breakers roar 
 Along the grand Pacific shore. 
 
 In New York's busy marts of trade 
 Some solid fortunes have been made, 
 Though tricks of trade are .ilenty there; 
 Some ^^ ere made upon the Sfjuire. 
 
 The broad Ohio's teeming soil 
 Was settled by our sons of toil ; 
 III (,'hicago"s moral cit}' 
 Dwell our people, wise and witty. 
 
 And richer prairies farther west 
 Have been highlj' tilled and blessed, 
 By native sons of vale and hill 
 Who (Jdd'.s great jiriiiial law fulfill. 
 
 'J'licy'vc grasped tlie elements of wealth, 
 And had an eye to schools and health — 
 The lumber pines of Minnesota, 
 The unrivaled wheat fields of Dakota. 
 
 The cotton on the Mexitjue main, 
 The c:ittle on the 'I'e.vas i»lain — 
 The silver mines with golden sands, 
 And California's matchless lands. 
 
 Of learned men a goodly share 
 Have had their birth and training there : 
 Doctors, lawyers, judges, preachers. 
 From Richardson to Amos Beecher. 
 
 One genius liigh, of talents rare. 
 With common men beyond compare. 
 Who sought to unfold a new religion — 
 To fipen clear to morhil vision 
 From sor<lid earth to highest heaven ; 
 The prophet Joel honor won. 
 Excepting in his native town.
 
 1G2 
 
 ()t all tlif; iiKMi of tivlcnt rare 
 
 Whose memory will linger there, 
 
 One rhyming l'o(rt stands alone, 
 
 Though long since pii.s.-eil to his long home. 
 
 TO MISS MARY L. HART. 
 
 This we sjvy of Barkhanisted towu, 
 It has no great, or wide renown — 
 
 A land of meailows, rocks and hills 
 Of timber trees, and water mills. 
 
 But these rugged, sterile mountains, 
 Burling rills, and sparkling fountains. 
 
 Have nourished men of sterling worth, 
 And women bright, the salt of earth. 
 
 Its history was fading fast, 
 
 And swift receding to the past — 
 
 Oblivion's gulf would soon receive 
 All that we know, or e'en believe. 
 
 Our heroine then gave her Hart 
 To act the true historian's part — ' 
 
 This history in every part 
 
 Will honor both her head and heart. 
 
 The dark clouds of a troubled day 
 Her cheerful spirits drive away; 
 
 She in her constant happy mood 
 Forgets herself for others' good. 
 
 Her dark and glossy curling hair 
 Denotes the genius sleeping there; 
 
 Her darkly bright and sparkling eyes 
 And light comple.xion do likewise. 
 
 Dear friend, continue on your work. 
 
 You seldom falter, never shirk. 
 Your memory we all hold dear. 
 
 Though silent long, you need not fear. 
 
 The monument you now uprear 
 To manj' thousands will appear, 
 
 When zinc and marble fade and rust — 
 Earth to earth and dust to dust.
 
 163 
 
 THE SPARKLING RAIN. 
 
 By John Allys. 
 
 The parched rieUls cry rain, more rain. 
 Wlien shall we feel its patter again? 
 Tis here, "tis here, the glorious rain. 
 The thirsty fields are moist again. 
 
 The rain, the rain, the sparkling rain. 
 We hail with joj' its patter again. 
 By it tiie banker counts his gain, 
 By it the farmer grows his grain. 
 
 The cattle roaming on the hill, 
 
 Now can crop a generous till 
 
 Of luscious grass bedecked with Howers, 
 
 And grapes will hang from maidens' bowers. 
 
 The ships of ocean shall have their freight 
 Of wheat that is plump and full in weight. 
 For the rain, the rain, iias come again. 
 And merchants now can count their gain. 
 
 The rain, the rain, the sparkling rain, 
 We hail with joy its patter again. 
 It i)rings us wealth, it l>rings us life, 
 With choicest blessings it is rife. 
 
 By it we see the rainbow of hope, 
 By it the doors of plenty we ope. 
 The rain, the rain, the welcome rain. 
 We are thankful tu hear its patter again. 
 
 Soon, warm and fine, the sun « ill shine. 
 To rii)en and sweeten our rui>y wine. 
 'Tis good for the sick, 'tis good for us all. 
 If only we heed kind nature's call. 
 
 .Uio-'h, ISS4. 
 
 CAMPAIGN LINES. 
 
 Rtatl at St. Helina. October, 1S84. 
 
 'I'he Democratic cau<e is weak, 
 Their standard-bearer still moie weak. 
 The inert mass they try to leaven 
 By principles that count uj) seven —
 
 164 roEM.s. 
 
 Five small loaves and two small Hsiies, 
 Their utmost hopes— their ardent wishes. 
 The toiling voters may compete 
 With heavy laden merchant fleet, 
 Freighted with Europe's and Asia's toil, 
 Our manufactories to despoil. 
 
 The dudes are few and growing scarce. 
 Ashamed of such a wretched farce ; 
 Too pure at first to vote for Blaine, 
 They sickened quite at Cleveland's fame. 
 
 The <ludes of York, the dudes of Yale, 
 Soon will morn, and weep, and wail. 
 To see their free-trade notions fail. 
 
 The Irish vote will be divided 
 Because they have not been pi'ovided — 
 Many will \ ote for James G. Blaine 
 For taking the lion by the mane. 
 They like to hear him rave and roar. 
 Now they're far from Albion's shore. 
 
 Butler will help our cause along 
 By taking off the cranky throng. 
 
 Repulilicans are crowned with glory, 
 
 Long will they live in song and story. 
 
 And for a giand, inspiring slogan 
 
 We've statesman Blaine and soldier Logan. 
 
 Our postal service is far better; 
 
 From two-l)its — to two cents a letter. 
 
 We've built three roads from shoie to shore, 
 
 And capital will build us more. 
 
 In finance — Utopia's beau-ideal. 
 
 Our statesmanship has made the real — 
 
 Greenbacks and bonds, silver and gold. 
 
 All are at par where goods are sold. 
 
 We give to settlers an ample farm 
 
 To save from want and add home's charm. 
 
 We've saved united this great nation, — 
 
 Raised every slave to freenuvn's station. 
 
 Our cause is strong — our leaders stronger — 
 
 And we'll hold the fort a little longer.
 
 POEMS. 165 
 
 TO DR. AND MRS. G. B. CRANE. 
 Read at Mrs. Crane's Kose Parly, November If., 1883. By Db. John Alltn. 
 
 IvO.ses bloom in great variety, 
 
 But never cause tlie least satiety; 
 The last rose of summer is ever in mind. 
 
 But roses of winter to us are more kind. 
 
 The rose by itself for beauty ne'er lacks, 
 
 But your taste prefers it trimmed with smilax; 
 
 W'e speak not of tliat which they call a Hower, 
 Though seen in your sweet home bower. 
 
 The roses of war, destruction and hate, 
 
 Are names that cover a terrible fate; 
 The rose we love is a rose of Peace, 
 
 Which sweetly will bloom when all wars cease. 
 
 Roses of art may play a fine part 
 
 In finishing milliner's goods, 
 Though always in bloom, thej' shed no perfume. 
 
 And so are but partially good. 
 
 Wild roses bloom Ijy murmuring streams 
 
 Where the suu shines down in broken beams; 
 
 Tlieir petals are .sparse, and rougii and rude 
 Where no fair helping hands intrude. 
 
 Of cultured roses there's emlless variety; 
 
 To name and describe with strict propriety. 
 Would take niore paper and ink and time 
 
 Than can well be spared to this brief rhyme. 
 
 Tile rose that all are praising 
 
 Ls our generous, gentle hostess, 
 Tliis may appear amazing 
 
 P>ut is said without a boast. 
 
 FOR THE GOLDEN WEDDING OF MR. AND MRS. 
 
 ARETAS HARDY. 
 
 By John .Allyn. 
 
 When this old century was now. 
 
 Bright Cupifl's arrows « ildly Hew, 
 Until at length liis hurried darts 
 
 Reached their aim- -and pierced your hearts.
 
 166 POEMS. 
 
 Ill Maine's piiineval forest mountains, 
 
 And from lier pure and spaikling fountains, 
 
 Two gentle purling streams lir)\ve(l on 
 Until tliey both were joined in one. 
 
 Like the synil)olic living river, 
 
 Tliey will thus flow on forever. 
 All this i.s but a sjnibul chosen 
 
 Of tiiese two hearts thus joineil Ijy heaven. 
 
 In Indu.stry* the bride was reared, 
 And industry slie's always shared; 
 
 Siie always was lioth hale and hearty, 
 But marriage made her still more Hardy. 
 
 You've lived at liome always together 
 In sunshine bright, and stormy weather; 
 
 ^'ou \\ ere so loving and true-hearted. 
 You've only been (juite briefly parted. 
 
 Your hap])y home one son has blessed, 
 Three lovely daugiiters you've caressed. 
 
 Two are still on the hither shore, 
 And one — not dead, but gone before. 
 
 Of grandchildren you've half a score, 
 And may expect unnumbei-ed more; 
 
 They're all a comfort to your age, 
 
 Whose namts would grace this rliythmic page. 
 
 Fifty full years of wedded bliss 
 Are rare in such an age as this. 
 
 When courts are facile, laws are loose, 
 And often slip the marriage noose. 
 
 Tliree score years you've spent in Maine, 
 The native place of statesman Blaine; 
 
 A rugged clime of mount and glen. 
 Prolific most of noted men. 
 
 In California's genial clime 
 
 Full si.Ktcen years you passed like rhyme; 
 In Napa's vale you dwelt awliile, 
 
 And left too soon foi- city's wile. 
 
 Old age is coming on apace. 
 
 And soon you'll close your earthly race. 
 
 The mysterj' of coming years 
 
 May bring you joy unmixed with tears. 
 
 * Industry is the name of tlie town where the bride was born.
 
 1G7 
 
 And now, good friends, this weilding eve 
 Witli you love's offerings iiere we leave; 
 
 May choicest blessings still increase, 
 And smooth your patli to blessed peace. 
 
 TWO ASPECTS OF NATURE. 
 Written for the Literary Club bj- John Ai.lyn. 
 
 I. 
 
 In this world of (.'volutioii, 
 With now and then a revolution. 
 Success is never luiite complete. 
 And failure is w ith hope replete. 
 
 Could we scan tlie inmost being. 
 And our envious self-love freeing, 
 We should fin<l the great and good 
 Were only partlj' understood. 
 
 With outward signs of wealth and state, 
 And iionors heaped upon the great, 
 Lurk grov'ling passions, doubt and gloom, 
 Awaking fears of coming doom. 
 
 Who gathers riches, adds to care, 
 And often weaves his soul a snare; 
 His hai)piness is often seeming, 
 His fears and trouble f)ften teeming. 
 
 II. 
 
 Of those who fall out by tiie ways. 
 And scarcely live out half tiieir days. 
 We might find very much to praise. 
 Most worthy of a poet's lays. 
 
 Could we but scan the true beginning 
 Of the souls most deeply sinning. 
 We'd see them hounded to tlieir fate. 
 And aided not by Churcli or State. 
 
 The germs of all that's good and wise, 
 Would pulsate there before our eyes; 
 But, overborne l>y jiassion's power, 
 Outwrought before the natal iionr.
 
 168 POEMP. 
 
 Tliis world is hut, tlic veHtibiile 
 
 Of great N'atnio.s tiaining scliool; 
 
 Hannoiiious development 
 
 Will sure result wlieu passion's spent. 
 
 In that liriglit world of joy and glory, 
 l)Ut little Unown to song and story; 
 All will harmonious growth attain, 
 And thus through endless time remain. 
 
 Much tliat now is dark antl dreary, 
 There will be Ijoth light and cheery; 
 The granduer of the glorious whole 
 Will thrill with pleasure every soul. 
 
 The economy of evolution 
 Will light up clearly retribution, 
 As day and nigiit must come and go. 
 As ocean's tides must ebb antl flow. 
 
 80 good and evil interbleud, 
 But high achievement is the end, 
 And the merest recreation 
 Works out the highest exaltation. 
 
 'Tis true that some are crushed and bruised, 
 
 And always seem to he abused; 
 
 Justice is l)ut a partial force, 
 
 While harmony will crown the course. 
 
 -^^i^i^^^^^f^'^^
 
 A Man's Thoughts on the 
 Woman Question, 
 
 READ BEFORE THE ST. HELENA WOMAN-SUFFRAGE ASSOCIATION BY 
 DR. .JOHN ALI.YN. 
 
 As prefatory to a direct consideration of the subject, I 
 wish distinctly to repudiate what is sometimes expressed or 
 implied, that there is an antagonism between the rights and 
 interests of men and women. So long as every man inuft have 
 a mother, fiJiotild be a husband, and maj/ be the father of 
 daughters, so long, whatever tends to enlarge the sphere 
 of woman, to elevate her, tnorally, intellectual!}', and i)hys- 
 ically, is directly calculated to benefit man and improve 
 society. 
 
 This subject is engaging a large share of the attention of 
 intelligent, earnest, thinking people, both in this country 
 and the older, more fossilized civilizations of Europe. For 
 years there has been a manifest tendency to enlarge 
 woman's sphere, as it is called, in the walks of industry, 
 literature, science, and art. With scarcely an exception, 
 this movement is regarded by intelligent persons as a 
 healthy progress and a beneiicent prophecy of the future. 
 
 I regard woman sull'rage as but a l)ranch, an important 
 one, iti is true, of this entire movement. Power is a neces- 
 sary element in human conditions, and political govern- 
 ments wield an immense power over the destinies of the 
 people. Hitherto, that power has come far short of achiev- 
 ing the highest possible good; nor do I for a moment sup- 
 pose that the addition of a new element, which I would 
 term the female element, in politics and legislation would 
 11
 
 170 THK WOMAN (QUESTION. 
 
 at oiiee anhieve nil possible ^ooil or avoid all evil incident 
 to human <^overnnients. We are a])t (o regard institutions 
 and usages as fixed, whereas the thinker j>orceives that all 
 things are but growths more or less gradual, "i'lie globe 
 we iidiabit is the growth of time; much of the solid rock is 
 formed by gradual accretions from aqueous sedimentary 
 deposits or the labors of minute animals; the soil is formed 
 b}' the slow disintegration of more solid rocks and mixtures 
 of vegetable mold accumulated from year to year through 
 the ages. Governments and religions are also growths of 
 time, and both are far from having reached a condition 
 which scientists term one of stable equilibrium. Sad indeed 
 would it be were nothing further to be achieved even in 
 our own favored laud Avhere government has done more for 
 the people than in any other age or country of our globe. 
 Yes; inspiration and intuition have alike discerned a good 
 time coming, from the projihets of Israel to the seers of 
 America, when nations should not destroy each other in 
 warfare or politicians pervert or waste the substance of the 
 people. 
 
 From our standpoint, recognizing the natural right of 
 woman to achieve all in the fields of industry' or intellect 
 that her natural i)Owers enable her to ; there are laws, and 
 the greater power behind the laws — public sentiment: — 
 which are wrong and need removing or reforming. But I 
 repudiate the idea sometimes thoughtless!}' advanced, that 
 man has acted in bad faith towards woman and consciously 
 framed laws to oppress or enslave her. As a rule, the laws 
 were made from a noble purpose to subserve alike the in- 
 terests of man and woman. As an example, take one of the 
 laws complained of, which requires the estate of a deceased 
 married man to pass into the hands of an administrator. In 
 times past, women have been so unacquainted with business 
 matters that such a law was necessarv' to protect them from 
 spoliation from designing knaves. It is doubtful whether 
 a sufficient number of women are acquainted with business 
 to render it safe for their interest to change such a law. It 
 is at first requisite that woman should be trained in busi- 
 ness sufficient to protect herself, and then the law should 
 be changed to meet the progressed condition of society. 
 
 But while we maintain that the laws affecting women 
 more particularly have resulted from honest efforts to meet 
 the necessities of the case and promote the best interests of
 
 THE WOMAN QUESTION. 171 
 
 women, yet they have been made by that portion of hu- 
 manity who can only look at the subject from a masculine 
 standpoint and through masculine eyes. However much he 
 may desire to do justice, man cannot fully appreciate the feel- 
 ings and needs of woman; therefoie the feminine half of the 
 peoj)le should be directly represented in legislatures to se- 
 cure the highest and best legislation. Were such the case, 
 I feel satisfied that many laws would be improved. As to 
 the objection that there would be more political intrigue 
 and wire-pulling than now, suffice it to say that then, as 
 now, that will rest with the people. If tliere is sufficient 
 intelligence and moral stamina among the people to de- 
 mand honesty in their political servants, they will have it; 
 if not, Heaven help them! It is said that women are more 
 ambitious of the honors of office than men. Whatever of 
 truth there is in this results from the plain fact that man's 
 ambition is counterbalanced by the difficulties which beset 
 the i^xthway of the political as])irant. If a woman is 
 afflicted with an inordinate ambition for place, for power, 
 and for distinction, a little experience in the labors, the 
 struggles, and the disa))pointments incident to office-seek- 
 ing would afltbrd an eti'ective antidote. 
 
 The idea has prevailed in society that girls liave no legit- 
 imate career but to become wives and mothers; to this end 
 are they educated and trained; and if they succeed, they 
 become a household ornament or a houshold drudge, ac- 
 cording to the circumstances of their husbands; but for 
 those who fail to secure husbands in early life, for any 
 cause, there is no honorable and inviting career open. 
 
 In more recent years, a few possessing uncommon en- 
 ergy to outface public sentiment have made their way to re- 
 spectable positions as preachers, physicrians, writers, sculp- 
 tors, and painters; but to the great nuijority life becomes a 
 disappoiiitnioiit, a dreary waste; and amidst the sneers of 
 the low-minded, they gravitate to the wretched position of 
 a governess in a brother's or a sister's family, without the 
 wa<^cs of a governess. 
 
 While this is the result of Protestant sentiments, usages, 
 and education, the Catholic Church has provided within 
 her ample pale an honorable and useful career for this 
 cliiss which, in older countries where there are more fe- 
 males than males, is always large. They can enter the ser- 
 vice of tlie Church and be useful, respected, and happy, in
 
 I7li THE WOMAN QUEbllON. 
 
 ctUu'.'itiiif,' and caiinjj for the orphan and ministering to the 
 Hick; and in times of war and ])estilence, the Sisters of 
 Cliarity become Angels of Mercy to the maimed, the suffer- 
 ing, and the dying. Protestantism presents but a transi- 
 tional phase of society, and is inade(juate to meet the needs 
 of all classes of society; and there remains, then, but the 
 alternative to go back to Catholicism, or forward to a better 
 condition of society yet to be evolved by the struggles of 
 reformers. 
 
 Maternity is, doubtless, the crowning honor of woman; 
 but all are not privileged to participate in the happiness 
 and honor of rearing healthy, intelligent, and moral sons 
 and daughters; and any woman whose constitution is such 
 that a physiologist could perceive that she could not become 
 the mother of such children, does herself a great wrong, and 
 society a still greater wrong, to become a mother; or, 
 further, if a woman prefers to forego maternity and devote 
 her energies to achievements in the fields of industry, re- 
 form, benevolence, literature, art, or science, slie should be 
 respected in so doing; and such a course might prove more 
 useful to the world than to be the mother of any nu;uber of 
 children below the average. 
 
 The Catholic Church is a mother to her daughters, and 
 before our Protestant civilization can supply her place, 
 woman must be so educated and trained as to be self- 
 poised, self-reliant, self-supporting, and inspired with 
 other aims in life than to be merely some man's wife and 
 pet. But it is said, " this involves great labors, great re- 
 sponsibilities, and is beset with insurmountable ditMculties." 
 True, the difficulties are great, but energy, perseverance, 
 and a definite aim, will accomplish wonders; and we should 
 not forget that faculties and powers, both physical and 
 mental, increase with use, and these become still further 
 augmented by inheritance from mother to daughter. 
 
 I am satisfied that men are more ready to grant equal 
 political, educational, and industrial privileges than women 
 are to ask for them with a serious intent to actually improve 
 them. This is indicated by the action of the regents of the 
 California University. On the application of the first young 
 woman to participate in its high privileges, the doors were 
 opened alike to young women and young men. 
 
 True, some trades unions have acted on a narrow and 
 selfish principle — like the typographical union — in trying
 
 THK WOMAN QUESTION. 173 
 
 to excliicle women; but on the same narrow and selfish 
 princii^le, man}'' industrial j^^uilds have actually compelled 
 master workmen to exclude the great majority' of boys from 
 learning frades, that the}' might command the work and 
 dictate the late of wages. These are exceptional cases 
 where blind selfishness got the better of the broader prin- 
 ciples of justice, which are of more universal application. 
 It is easy to perceive that the principal opponents of this 
 movement are women; and these may be divided into two 
 classes: First, the wealthy classes — women who have pros- 
 perous, kind, indulgent husbands and luive formed habits 
 of luxurious ease, and sometimes of wasteful extravagance. 
 These "have all the rights they want;" and with ami)le 
 means to cultivate social and sestlietic tastes, they do not 
 care to trouble themselves with the sterner labors of un- 
 derstanding political ])robleras, which they will have to do 
 in self-jirotoction if Biddy is allowed to vote. To this class 
 may be added Mrs. General Thus, and the Honorable Mrs. 
 So-and-So, who are delighted to appropriate the honor of 
 their husbands' achievements, without the trouble of mak- 
 ing any achievements for themselves. All these are the 
 few who have drawn prizes in the lottery of life and are de- 
 termined to enjoy their advantages to the full without cul- 
 tivating a troublesome appreciation of the needs of the 
 miijy who have failed to draw prizes in the aforesaid lot- 
 tery. Second, the larger i'^norant class, made vip of va- 
 rious phases of ignorance. This class is led by political, re- 
 ligions, or social demagogues, aided by that giant imper- 
 son:il demagogue — public sentiment. This last class is 
 most numerous and most formidable. Fortune is fickle, 
 the votaiies of ease and pleasure are weiik and inefficient 
 op]ion('nts, but ignorance and prejudice are very tenacious; 
 and like the fabled vampire, tiiey prey upon their victims. 
 To remedy this, we must inspire with lofty aims for self- 
 culture and personal achievement. The struggle, disci- 
 pline, and development incident to obtain the ballot will 
 be a useful preparation for its judicious use. 
 
 There is at the present time a frightful amount of matri- 
 monial infelicity in civilized society, to express by a mild term 
 what might be more forcibly exi)ressed by the term " con- 
 jugal i)andemoniums." There are a great variety' of causes 
 for this unfortunate state of social life. Bad men and bad 
 liquors are accountable for much, but it lies in the line of
 
 174 TUE WOMAN QUESTION. 
 
 this iultlifss to iiieulion ii prolific cause of inliarmonious 
 liouseliolds which this moveiiieiit promises to relieve. It 
 consists ill a diversity of aims in life and a diversity of ed- 
 ucation and trainiMf,' in the candidates for matrimony. The 
 yoniif,' man who has to make his own way in the world 
 mainly, and who has a purpose to be something more than 
 a cipher, realizes the necessity of accumiilatinj,^ capital; to 
 accomplish this it is necessary to live ))rudeiitly, and add 
 economy to industry. The young lady, not having been 
 subjected to the wlnjlesome discipline of earning monej', has 
 no adequate appreciation of capital as a factor in the affairs 
 of life — is intent on living as her quondam schoolmate, 
 Alice Angelina, lives, who may be in (piite different circum- 
 stances. Thus while one member of the partnership is in- 
 tent on accumulating, and the other spending those accu- 
 mulations in fashionable display which might well be 
 avoided, in part at least, there arises an irrepressible con- 
 flict. 
 
 The indications then, plainly are, that girls should learn 
 some profession or business as well as boys, by which they 
 can earn an honorable living, in case they never choose to 
 marry, or meet with misfortunes in life, or become orphans 
 or widows. Many professions and branches of industry are 
 now open to women; others will be, as the movement pro- 
 gresses. There are now in the United States seven medi- 
 cal colleges expressly for women, besides many others 
 where they are admitted on an equality with men. True, 
 the grade of scholarship in some of these is not of the high- 
 est order, but even the lowest grade will serve to prepare 
 women to become nurses and acconclieurs, and to elevate 
 those professions. Much of journalism and type-setting, 
 not requiring great physical strength, seem fit employments 
 for women. 
 
 In the East, where there is an excess of women over men, 
 editors are constantly receiving letters inquiring what in- 
 dusirial occupations are open to women; the demand seems 
 greater than the supply, but we should reflect that our in- 
 dustrial conditions are rapidly changing; mere muscle is 
 not likely to be at the same premium in the future that it 
 has been in the past. 
 
 In the last half century much rough work has been done 
 that will not have to be repeated; tlje vast forests of west- 
 ern New York, Peiinsvlvania, Ohio, and Indiana have been
 
 THE WOMAN QUESTION. 175 
 
 cleared — tbe ])raines of Illinois, Iowa, and Wisconsin are 
 broken up and reduced to cultivation — the placer mines of 
 tlje Pacific Slope nearly exhausted, and the crests of tbe 
 Rocky Mountains and the Sierras scaled and spanned by 
 oue of the finest railroads in the world. Add to this that 
 machinery is constantly being brought to do what muscle 
 formerly did, and that we are likely to have an over- 
 supply of laborers from China to do such uncongenial 
 rough labor as remains to be done. The greater portion of 
 the most laborious and exhausting farm labor is now done 
 by machinery. Thus the tendency of our civilization is to 
 diversify industry', and aftbrd to all an opportunit}' to select 
 an occupation somewhat suitable to tastes and capacities — 
 that all men and women may enjoy the God-giveu right to 
 earn an independent and honorable livelihood, and, work- 
 ing out their own destiny, make such achievements as their 
 capacity, ftidustry, and perseverance may permit. 
 
 Prompted by the generous bounty of the federal govern- 
 ment, California has provided the facilities, free alike to 
 young men and young women, to acquire a complete univer- 
 sity and professional education, without ])aying one dollar 
 for tuition fees. The pupil who graduates from the pid)lic 
 high school can enter the fifth class of the University — 
 passing through that, can enter the University, and after 
 graduating in that, can study any of the learned professions. 
 To those who wish to |)repare for the respectable occupa- 
 pation of a teacher the open doors of the State Normal 
 School invite all alike. To those who wish to pursue any 
 of the natural scieiices the University afibrds ample facili- 
 ties. 
 
 There are now fifteen young women acquiring a medical 
 education in the Medical depintment of the University of 
 Michigan. How long shall California lag behind the Ban- 
 ner State of educatioiud progress? 
 
 — ISK'. 
 
 -:>^^rii^V5:7<^
 
 Miscellaneous, 
 
 THE PETRIFIED FOREST. 
 
 St. Helena, May^, 1872. 
 
 Editor Transcript: — It is understood that a tourist cau- 
 i>ot "see" California without visiting three well-heralded 
 wonders of nature. These are Yosemite Valley and Falls, 
 the Big Trees, and the Geysers. But though less kuow-n, 
 the Petrified Forest is scarcely less interesting to the geolo- 
 gist, the mineralogist, or the lover of the wonderful in 
 nature. This is situated four miles west of Calistoga hot 
 spring (a small village whose name indicates its character), 
 situated at the head of Naj)a Valley. It is located on a 
 ridge of the Coast Range Mountains dividing Napa and 
 Sonoma valleys, at an elevation of about two thousand feet 
 above the sea. 
 
 On inquiring the way to this remarkable phenomenon of 
 some settlers residing in the neighborhood, I was gratui- 
 tously informed that the Petrified Forest was a humbug. 
 Truly there is no accounting for taste. I suppose that some 
 men have lived all their lives within hearing of the roar of 
 Niagara without ever talcing the trouble to see it. If pub- 
 lic opinion would tolerate such a thing, they might call it 
 a humbug. 
 
 As we leave Calistoga, ascending the hill at an easy grade, 
 St. Helena mountain affords some grand and beautiful 
 scenery. At a distance of about five miles it lifts its 
 rugged nuijeslic cone 4,400 feet above the sea-level. 
 Knights Valley, checked with fields of growing crops in 
 dark-green, pea-green, and variegated colors, set in a frame-
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 177 
 
 work of noble forests and mountain shrubbery in the rich 
 foliage of sprinf*', afifortled <i charminopros])ect. On reach- 
 ing the ground we find its hilly surface of the cretaceous 
 formation abounding in volcanic tufa. The trees lie scat- 
 tered about over nearly 100 acres, and some at a greater 
 distance. They are from two to ten feet in diameter, often 
 broken quite squarely across, three or four feet in length, 
 ahnost as if they had been sawed for cord wood, but some 
 of the lengths were broken into fragments, aft'ordii)g an 
 abundance of specimens to be carried away by visitors. 
 These pieces show the grain — sometimes a knot or a curl — 
 as ])lainly as the fresh-cut wood, while one side will glitter 
 with fine quartz crystal. As a Boston nnm recently appro- 
 priated a generous quantity of these specimens, I presume 
 you can see some in the Boston Museum, A party of geolo- 
 gists from the University of California recently visited this 
 place; their ideas will soon be made public as to the forma- 
 tion of these petrifactions. The largest tree has a trunk of 
 sixty feet, unbroken, lying above ground, the remainder 
 being buried in the hill side It is rather plain that these 
 petrifactions were redwood, oak and fir, the only trees that 
 abound to any extent in the vicinity at the present time. 
 As redwood logs have been cut in artesian wells in Oakland 
 at a depth of several hundred feet, it is presumed they have 
 flourished here for a length of time not easily determined. 
 These petrifactions are thought by some to be formed by 
 tiie action of water holding silica in solution. They 
 might have flonrislied in a basin which had gathered a soil 
 from the surrounding liills, whose outlet was a narrow pre- 
 cipitous gorge that might have been so stopped by an 
 earthquake or volcanic eruption as to flood the basin. We 
 may as well rest with this conjecture until science shall de- 
 termine the character and cause of the phenomena. 
 
 EVOLUTION AND RELIGION. 
 
 HEl'LV TO A SERMON. 
 
 A religious teach^-r who arrays religion against science 
 will impair the force of the moral truths he may utter. 
 Personal religion consists in purity of heart and purpose,
 
 178 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 ami ri<,'liteoiiHiiess of life. P^fToits to promote these, however 
 liumble, will be respected; but efl'orts to array religion 
 against the eterual verities of seieuco, will not. 
 
 Theism does not enter into the problem of evolution at 
 all. Because we, as individuals have sprung from minute 
 beginnings by gradual growth, it does not follow that God 
 is not our Author or Creator. Precisely so as to the origin 
 of animal life, including man, on this planet. If the whole 
 sprung from minnte beginnings by a process of gradual 
 growth or evolution, it in no way afl'ects the question of the 
 Power or the Per.son who was the moving force. The ques- 
 tion of evolution among well-informed scientists is regarded 
 as settled as firmly as tlie law of gravitation or the circula- 
 tion of the blood in the animal system. 
 
 At Harvard, every professor whose department is con- 
 nected with biology (living or extinct animal forms) is an 
 evolutionist — Asa Gray, Whitney, A. Agassiz, Hagan, 
 Goodale, Shaler, Farlow, Faxon. At the Johns Hopkins 
 University, which aims to be in the van of advancement, 
 evolution is held and taught. In the University of Penn- 
 sylvania all the biological Professors are evolutionists — 
 Leidy, Allen, Rother, and Parker. At Yale, Dartmouth, 
 Cornell, Michigan, Brown, Bowdoin, and Princeton Uni- 
 versities the biological Professors are in the same category. 
 Many of these are conservative men and Theists. 
 
 The establishment of the law of evolution is by most 
 scientists regarded as the greatest achievement of the cen- 
 tury. 
 
 Darwin takes a high place as a scientist and benefactor 
 of mankind — what his religious opinions are does not ap- 
 pear from his works. He sailed over oceans and traveled 
 over continents, carefully noting what he observed, and 
 systematized the fruits of his labor without mentioning their 
 relations to God or religion. He was a high-minded, con- 
 servative English gentleman, whose love of truth and 
 knowledge predominated over prejudices and preconceived 
 theories. 
 
 It is nearly ten years since in a scientific association an 
 English clergyman asked Professor Huxley if he really 
 wished it understood that he had descended from a monkey. 
 Huxley got up in the learned body and calmly said, "If* I 
 had any choice in the matter — which clearly I have not — I 
 should prefer to be descended from a monkey, than from a
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 179 
 
 clergyman of the Church of Euglaud, who makes no better 
 use of his brains than to o[)pose science and ridicule its 
 cultivators." This brought down the house and put a 
 quietus to his clerical friend. 
 
 SCIENCE AND KELIGION. 
 
 CONSISTING OF CRITICISMS AND SUGGESTIONS. 
 " Prove all things ; hold fast that which is good." 
 
 During the present century science has made solid 
 achievements with a rapidity uni)aralleled in history; this 
 has been looked uj)on with alarm by some well-wishers of 
 humanity as imi)eriling moralit}' and religion. Religion 
 has not progressed so fast as science for two reasons. Its 
 postulates are not objects of the senses, and its creeds are 
 supposed to be based on the positive inspiration of a per- 
 fect intellect. And although creeds are widely departed 
 from in the religious teachings of the times, and still w^der 
 ])y the i)opular belief, they for (he most part remain unre- 
 written. 
 
 It need scarcely be said that the word "religion" is 
 used in its theoretical or systematic sense, as less liable to 
 objection than the word "theology." 
 
 Probably tlie greatest achievement science has ever made, 
 not excepting the discovery of the law of gravitation, is the 
 recognition of evolution as an estHl)lished law as universal 
 as the law of gravitation, governing tlie formation of ])lan- 
 etary systems, the genesis and growth of animal and veg- 
 etable life, the progress of civilization, government, and 
 society. Evolution is now almost universally recognized by 
 scientists. Ten years ago it was warmly contested, but 
 now probably nineteen twentieths of college ])rofessors ac- 
 cept it, and the standing of the other twentieth renders 
 their oi)inions of no importance. This great achievement, 
 whose fruits have scarcely commenced to ripen, will yet do 
 much for the imi)rovement of human conditions. We are 
 indebted for this great boon to the lil'e-long labors of such 
 men as Herbert Spencer, Darwin, Lyell, Huxley, and Pro- 
 fessor O. C. Marsh of Yale colle<re.
 
 180 M180KLLANEOU8. 
 
 Some Avcll-nu'iiDiii^ poojjlf! liavp been uiinecessarily exer- 
 cised lest this durtriiif should iiDdcriMine moral it}' and re- 
 lij,'ion. It may indicate that tlie first ehapters of Genesis 
 liave the inii)erfecli()ns characteristic of most human ])ro- 
 ductions and will liave to be reinteri)reted. The most able 
 lhe()lo<,'ians accci)t this; but the great essential doctrines of 
 religion, the future life, and the existence of an overruling 
 Intelligence, remain unailected bv it. The atheist holds 
 that the universe has been evolved by the action of the ul- 
 tinjate atoms and molecules as acted upon by the law or 
 force of gravitation, chemical affinity, electricity, and all 
 the natural forces, and nothing else. 
 
 The intelligent religionist, acknowledging the evolution- 
 ary action of all tbese, holds that the primal force moving 
 all is the will of the Su)>reme Intelligence. Science can 
 neither affirm nor deny this i)ropositiou. A scientist may 
 be an agnostic; he may say, "I do not know that there is 
 a God." but scientifically he cannot deny that there is a 
 governing Intelligence. Admitting the existence of such a 
 being, evolution bim})ly shows the mode l)y which creation 
 has been eft'ected, and nothing more. The being and 
 character of God must be relegated to theology, as wholl,y 
 beyond the reach of science, which concerns itself with 
 such facts and phenomena as may be verified b}' the human 
 senses and liutuan reason. 
 
 "With tlie other essential doctrine of religion, to wit, the 
 continuance of human life after the deatli of the body, it is 
 dilVerent. If it exists, it is reasonable to suppose that it 
 admits of scientific verification; and certainly it cannot be 
 scientitically denied except after an exhaustive examination. 
 
 We should not be deterred in this examination by the 
 sentiment, held l)y some, that materialism affords no basis 
 for sound morality. A complete knuwledge of the facts in 
 the case, whatever they may prove to be, must aft'ord the 
 best possible grounds for the best possible morality for 
 well -developed intellectual beings. And that morality 
 which is dependent, on the terrors of an orthodox hell, or 
 any arbitrary punishment after death, does not extend 
 below the " cutis vera." That mans education, or perhaps 
 I should say development, is very incomplete, who cannot, 
 unblanched, look annihilation squarely in the face. As- 
 tronomers tell us that the centrifugal force of the earth is 
 gradually becoming e.xhausted and that its final destiuv is
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 181 
 
 to tall into the sim. Should this occur, it must iu a short 
 time mingle with his molten masses or be dissipated iu va- 
 por; in which event it becomes a grave question what will 
 become of all individualities wiiicli have had a genesis or a 
 habitat on this planet. Other possible astronomical catas- 
 trophes may knock the whole solar system into tine dust, 
 like an exploded meteor — and what then ? 
 
 Plainly, what is required to promote the interests of true 
 religion and sound morality is more light, a better knowl- 
 edge of the prime elements of the problem with which we 
 have to deal. To get this light, I assume that we should 
 proceed according to the Baconian or scientific method; 
 that is, to first carefully examine the facts or premises in 
 the case. The wrong attitude of the people iu this regard 
 has retarded the acquisition of this light; and to more 
 clearly express myself, I shall now proceed to criticise tiie 
 attitude and conduct of three classes of people, viz., the 
 spiritualists, the religionists, and the scientists, 
 
 SPIRITUALISM. 
 
 Spiritualism is the logical successor of previous beliefs; 
 hence, sincere themselves, they lay too great stress on mero 
 belief, and as a religious sect are too intolerant of critical 
 investigation. Tlie slate-writing and rapjiing phenomena 
 are not easily explained, and may indicate the existence of 
 some law or force not recognized by science, but fall short 
 of proving the fact of spirit agency; but when we come to 
 the latest and highest manifestation — the materialization of 
 spirits — we are disappointed. In San Francisco, a pro- 
 fessed performance of this kind has been exhibited six 
 nights in a week for the last four years; which is nothing 
 but clumsy, transparent fraud. If it rose to the dignity of 
 a clever feat of legerdemain, there would be some compen- 
 sation for the dollar charged for admission. In justice, I 
 must say that some spiritualists repudiate these, while oth- 
 ers will not only not expose it themselves, but will frown 
 upon any who should essay the task. We read in the or- 
 gan of the sect of better phenomena of this kind at Terra 
 Haute, ]Mem[)his, Boston, New York, and other eastern 
 cities, but the failure of anything of the kind in Sau 
 Francisco raises fear that distance lends enchantment 
 to the view. Nothing will allay this but a thorough, criti- 
 cal, personal exaraiputiou under strictly test conditions.
 
 182 MIHCEM.ANEODS. 
 
 It iH a littlo Htiun^'e llmt, reliprionists, wljile lamenting the 
 pfrowtli of nmtcrifilisin and deprocatinpf its influence, hLoijIJ 
 80 bitterly oppose HjjiritnuliHni, the only means of arresting 
 it. In niakinj,' this sweepinj^f charf^e I must make some ex- 
 cejitions. It seems plain tliat, intellectually and philosoph- 
 ically, the great struggle of the age is between religion and 
 materialism; and that the triumph of spiritualism is the 
 only means that can save religion. Some years ago some 
 remarkable jihenomena were supposed to have occurred in 
 the Clark residence in Oakland. The accounts published 
 in the daily papers were highly sensational and exagger- 
 ated, still they were considered of suflicient importance to 
 be investigated l)y a committee of learned and intelligent 
 citizens. After due investigation, this committee came to 
 this lame and impotent conclusion : " "We do not find evi- 
 dence that the phenomena were caused by supernatural 
 causes." The public hoped from this committee to have a 
 statement of the facts proved and what were traceable to 
 fraud or trickery. And the committee ought to have known 
 that spiritualists have never claimed a supernatural origin 
 for any of their phenomena; on the contrary, their writers 
 and speakers, from the first raps at Hydeville, N. Y., thirty 
 odd years ago, taught that they were strictly natural; that 
 the realm of nature and law extended into the spiritual 
 world and governed spirits out of the body as much as 
 those still in the flesh. With these remarks I will leave the 
 Church, commending to the kind care of the clergy the 
 large and increasing number of their flocks who are be- 
 lievers in spiritualism and seeking light and comfort at its 
 shrine. 
 
 SCIENCE. 
 
 It now remains to pay my respects to the scientists; and 
 truth compels me to say they have treated the matter with 
 unmitigated bigotry and intolerance, ignoring the great 
 l)rincii)les of investigation they have professed since the 
 days of Francis Bacon, and by the aid of which they have 
 made their grand achievements. Professor Huxley, whose 
 great talents, profound metaphysical grasp, great attain- 
 ments in biological science, and limj>id, charming style, 
 render his writings sought and read with avidity wherever 
 the English language is spoken, said: "Even if 'the spirit- 
 ual phenomena are true, they do not interest me."
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 183 
 
 The more is the pity. 
 
 In defense, they cannot say they are too frivolous anJ 
 barren to deserve attention from those who can find a fossil 
 skeleton to study, for this will hardly avail when such emi- 
 nent scientists as Crooks of London and "Wallace, Zolluer 
 of Germany have thought them worthy of their best atten- 
 tion and labor. The great phj'siologist, Dr. Carpenter, has 
 written and published a volume to refute and expose spir- 
 itualism; persists from beginning to end in speaking of 
 them fia supernatural, thus showing that he has failed to 
 inform himself of the elements of the problem he discusses, 
 or that he designedly misrepresents in order to throw dis- 
 credit on a matter he fails to meet squarely. 
 
 I think no one can accuse me of being partial to either 
 of the classes reviewed. If the materialist says, "You have 
 nothing tangible or palpable to offer us," I answer, neither 
 is gravity nor evolution tangible, yet you believe both. To 
 the religionist I would say, if ajjparitions and spiritual 
 manifestations were good to found a religion on eighteen 
 hundred years ago, why are they not good to confirm it in 
 these latter days? To the spiritualist I would say, you can 
 afford to be patient of skepticism and tolerant of criticism; 
 for if your claims are true, your trium2)h is only a matter of 
 time. 
 
 —18S0. 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 Brother W. A. Haskin has passed to the higher life. It 
 seems proper that one who loved him well and appreciated 
 his character should write a few words to his memory. 
 
 From the early part of his sickness he was conscious that 
 the end of his earth life was approaching. 
 
 During my acquintance, extending back fifteen years, he 
 has been a firm spiritualist. The faculties of his mind were 
 so mixed and blended that he was not troubled with those 
 doubts which intrude, unbidilen, on others. 
 
 During the only brief conversation I had with him dur- 
 ing his sickness he said: "I have done the best I knew 
 how; I have not intentionally injured any one; I am not 
 afraid to die, and I do not believe in a blood atonement."
 
 184 MI8CKLLANEOU8. 
 
 He was 8iiij,'uliirly freo fioMi tlio fjreed of »,'aiii, and loved 
 peace and ri^difcouHiieHH, as was manifest in his oflBcial ser- 
 vices. He loved music, and was always ready to ^'ive his 
 services' to aid that Inanch of relif,'ious exercises. And now, 
 as Ins end approaches, methinks I could hear him say: 
 
 " I li.ivf l)eeii alino.st lionic; I in.ay not tell, 
 For language cannot j)aint wliat I liuve seen. 
 The vail was very tliin, and I ho near, 
 I caught the sheen of multitudes and heard 
 N'oice.s tliat called and answered from afar ^_ 
 
 Through spaces iiiconoeivahle, and songs 
 Whose harmonies responsive sui'ged anil sank 
 On the attenuate air tdl all my soul 
 Was thrilled and lilled with music, and I prayed 
 To 1)C let loose that I might cast myself 
 Upon the mighty tides and give my life 
 To the sujiernal raptures; ay, I prayed 
 That death might come and give me my release 
 Krom this poor clay, and that I might be born 
 Hy its last travail into likk. " 
 
 And then comes the separation of the spirit body from 
 the physical body — for there is a sjnritual body. Com- 
 mencing at the feet, the spirit gradually withdrew from the 
 nerves of organic life, and at length the attenuated parti- 
 cles escaped from the useless body through the upper por- 
 tion of the skull, which in infants is unclosed. When the 
 spirit is separated and has gathered the needed elective, 
 magnetic, and other life elements, it may be seen by the 
 clairvoyant eye reclining on the ambient air, palpitating 
 with perennial life and glowing with more than j'outhful 
 vigor, grace, and beauty. He is now prepared to Avalk the 
 shining shore with the host of happy ones already there, 
 and grapple with the problem of spirit life. 
 
 To his life-long companion I would say, Mouru uot, he is 
 not dead, but gone before; in a few short days you and I 
 will pass the dark river and meet him there. The darkness 
 will be but momentary, and on that shining shore your 
 mother and husband will meet you with outstretched arms 
 and greet you with kisses more rapturous than those that 
 thrilled you at your betrothal fifty-three years ago. 
 
 And as you join the angel throng. 
 
 And countless ages march along, 
 
 Your love shall glow still unabated 
 
 As when your youthful hearts were mated. 
 
 —18S1.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 185 
 
 NAPA VALLEY. 
 
 BY J, ALLYN. 
 
 Of all tlie lands in east or west, 
 I count the Napa vale the best. 
 With Nature's gifts 'tis ever teeming; 
 Tlie gonial sun is ever beaming; 
 The best of Nature's gifts al)Ound, 
 And healthful bi'oezes fan the ground; 
 No wild tornadoes devastate, 
 Nor parching droughts to desolate; 
 Grapes abound in generous measure, 
 And Ceres strews her gifts at leisure. 
 
 There is a legend of an Italian nobleman who had his 
 beautiful villa profusely adorned with fountains, statues, 
 cypresses, flowers, and rare slirubbery, but, as happens to 
 all in due course of nature, he was laid upon his death-bed. 
 The padre came to console him and fit him for the great 
 change. He 2:)ictured to him the beauties of Paradise, the 
 ravishing music of the angels with their golden harps. 
 Uneasily he turned his face to the wall and said, "I do not 
 want to exchange; this is good enough for me," and closed 
 his eyes for the last time. 
 
 —AinU 1, issi. 
 
 GOD. 
 
 NUMBER FOUR. 
 
 I am a Pantheist; I know no God but Pan — the entirety 
 of the universe — tiie All. 
 
 I shall express my views on this theme as fully and ex- 
 plicitly as I may, without tlie least hesitation or trepida- 
 tion, though realizing that some of our sharpest critics have 
 been eagerly nibbing their pens to review what may be of- 
 fered. Although these views have served as a comfortable 
 cushion on which to rest my soul, wearied with other ologies 
 and isms; still I am wedded to no theory, anchored to no 
 conception. If a horticulturist can show me a cherished 
 error in regard to the growth of plants and trees in my gar- 
 den, or impart a new truth, I regard him as a benefactor. 
 Why should one who removes an error or imparts a truth 
 12
 
 IQQ MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 on the greatest of themes be regarded in any other light? 
 Neither am I ko silly as to suppose that God will, of posi- 
 tive volition and purpose, punish me here or hereafter, for 
 entertaining an error on a subject wherein the best minds 
 ever matured on this planet could have conceived but a 
 mere fraj^'ment of the whole truth, and jirobably cherished 
 many errors, (iod favors those most who know and har- 
 monize themselves with most of His laws, expressed in that 
 part of the universe we inhabit; and, having used due dili- 
 gence, our comprehension is limited by our capacities, 
 which were given by powers Avholly above and beyond our- 
 selves. 
 
 I make no claim to originality; these views have been 
 substantially entertained by philosophers luore than a thou- 
 sand years ago; and, two hundred years ago, a physically 
 diminutive Englishman, of poetic and mediumistic mind, 
 expressed the gist of the matter in beautiful language : 
 
 " All are but parts of one stupendous whole, 
 ^VllOse Ijody Nature is, and God tlie soul ; 
 That, clianged tlirougli all, and yet in all the same ; 
 Great in the earth, as in th' ethereal frame ; 
 Warms in tiie sun, refreshes in the breeze, 
 Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees ; 
 Lives through all life, extends through all extent ; 
 Spreads undivided, operates unspent ; 
 Breatlies in our soul, informs our mortal part, 
 As full, as perfect in a iiair as lieart ; 
 As full, as perfect, in vile man that mourns, 
 As the i-apt seraph that adores and burns ; 
 To Him, no high, no low, no great, no small ; 
 He tills, He bounds, connects, and equals all." 
 
 It is assumed that man occupies, comprehends, and sees, 
 even with the most powerful instruments, but a mere frag- 
 ment of the universe, relatively a mere point in space; and 
 that, by the utmost stretch of the imagination, he compre- 
 hends an equally small relative point in time. The more 
 wide his observations, the more fully is it shown that the 
 same or similar elements abound, and that the same laws, 
 or orderly sequence of eftects after causes, obtain; indi- 
 cating that the whole is a unity. The substance, entities, 
 elements both palpable and impalpable must be of the sub- 
 stance and laws of that vast Vuity which I term God. If 
 Gotl does not comprehend the whole, there must be a por- 
 tion outside of Himself without any God; or there must be
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 187 
 
 a plurality of Gods; eithei' of which suppositions derogates 
 from the most approved characteristics of such a Being. 
 
 I sometimes say in public speaking, " God loves His 
 creatures, especially n)an in riidimental and spirit life — the 
 highest creature evolved on this planet." This is simply 
 popular language; when translated into philosophical terms, 
 it might read: " The elements, laws, and life-giving forces 
 of this earth converged and wrought together for countless 
 ages to produce the crowning fruit of the tree of life — the 
 human spirit; and they will still work together for ages to 
 complete what is begun in man; plainly indicating that 
 ' the perfection of the human spirit is the secret intention 
 of nature.'" Incompleteness of expression, adapted to 
 popular assemblies of children and adults, is admissible, if 
 not inevitable. Thus we say, " Tlie sun rises in the east 
 and sets in the west, traversing the visible heavens in about 
 twelve hours;" speaking more philosophically, we should 
 say, " The sun is the center of the solar system, and is rela- 
 tively a fixed point; the earth turns round on its axis once 
 in twenty-four hours, causing the i3henomena of day and 
 night." 
 
 Then the laws, or method of orderly- sequence, of that 
 fragment of the universe within the pale of human observa- 
 tion — elementary substance, gravitation, mathematical 
 principles, chemical laws, vital forces, electrical laws, spirit- 
 ual laws, and all other laws and principles, occult or palpa- 
 ble, known or unknown, knowable or unknowable — are the 
 laws of God. Such of these laws as are definitely formu- 
 lated and recognized by cultivated men, may be said to bo 
 known; beyond these, in the vast sea of the unknown por- 
 tion of Deity, whoever presumes or guesses should not dog- 
 matize, or ask others to believe, as there are a thousand 
 chances of error to one of truth. 
 
 I am inclined to tliiidc that, as all matter constitutes the 
 visible body of Deity, a small fragment of which assumes 
 the globular form in our earth, and a still smaller jKirt is 
 articulated to form the human body, for the use and de- 
 velopment of the indwelling spirit during its rudimental 
 existence; so there is a vast, boundless sea of mind consti- 
 tuting the soul or spirit side of Deity; and but a minute 
 fragment is localized, finitized, and adapted to use, in the 
 human spirit. Between God and man there is no standard 
 of comparison, no parallel, no principle by which one can
 
 IHH MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 1)0 jij(l>,'f>(l by the other; the absurd maxim, tliat man was 
 creiitml in Iho iiiuijjo of God, only leads to u wilderness of 
 errors 
 
 Ah I am unwilling' to trespass on your columns, other ar- 
 tich'H will \><> requiied to illustrate and prove this postulate, 
 and more to follow. 
 
 Ei'dit articles were published, but are lost.— J. A. 
 
 SPIRITUALISM THE RELIGION OF NATURE. 
 
 NUMBER ONE. 
 
 Old theologians, bigoted sectarians, and even those who 
 are in a slight degree dependent on the popular churches 
 for spiritual development, salvation, or religious culture, 
 are requested not to read this article. It is written ex- 
 j)ressly for the benefit of spiritualists, progressionists, and 
 liberal thinkers. And let me bespeak the patience and 
 toleration of such, while I address you a few plain words 
 upon the gist of the matter which we are holding out to the 
 world as of paramount importance. Twent}' years ago the 
 writer left the church, because she would not tolerate the 
 utterance of what to him appeared as vital truth. I trust 
 he will not be forced to come out from spiritualists for the 
 same reason. 
 
 Probably the majority of spiritualists regard tins whole 
 movement as simply a disintegrating power, whose end and 
 object is to level to the ground the churches, show the absur- 
 dity of an authority in Scripture given by supernatural inspi- 
 ration, and the utter unsoundness of the theology of Christi- 
 anity. Having satisfied themselves by a careful stud}' of 
 the phenomena, that, after the change called death, our ex- 
 istence is continuous under the laws of our being and sur- 
 roundings; they conclude there is no eternal hell, heaven is 
 sure, and they prefer to take their own time and way of 
 reaching that delectable place, without being at too much 
 trouble and expense to facilitate the journey, or assist others 
 in reaching their inevitable destiny. If it'were an isolated 
 case, it might not be significant* that friends vociferously 
 insist, in the •' Fraternity Conference," that spiritualism is
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 189 
 
 nothiDg but a disintegrating power, while many firm spirit- 
 ualists, with their families, resort to a free Unitarian church 
 for spiritual pabulum. 
 
 A clear-headed writer on the Religion of Nature says: 
 " ' Do not destroy or tear down religion, if you cannot sub- 
 stitute a better in its place' is the cry which meets the re- 
 ligious iconoclast continually; as if it were his or any one's 
 duty to manufacture a religion for the people; as if nature, 
 which gave us birth and sustains us, and is a sufficient guide 
 in scientific pursuits, in our every-day labors, in health and 
 disease, and in our political organizations, should fail us in 
 our social, moral, and si)iritual relations !" 
 
 A thorough and intelligent spiritualist, who has given 
 liberally of his time, his influence, and his money to the 
 good work, put the (piestion, as near as meujor}^ serves me, 
 in this manner: "Do you consider the religions of man- 
 kind, as developed in history, to be an excrescence, an in- 
 trusion, foisted on the ignorant many by the designing few 
 for their own selfish aggrandizement, or a natural, normal 
 growth, like governments, which, though imperfect, have 
 supplied an imperious need of humanity, and which were 
 as perfect in every age and country as the development of 
 the people would permit?" 
 
 It must be plain to every reflecting mind, that, if the 
 former is true, all that is requisite for the higliest interest 
 of humanity is to utterl}' demolish all religions from the 
 face of the earth; if the latter, then the more difficult prob- 
 lem is presented to tlie reformer, of showing the errors of 
 the old and substituting a better in its place. 
 
 "Tlie master must become the huililer too." 
 
 That man is a part of nature — if we use tlie term to in- 
 clude the spiritual, the imponderable, as well as the palpa- 
 ble — and that his physical, intellectual, and spiritual pow- 
 ers are developed, and ever must exist, under her benefi- 
 cent laws and forces, is a i)roposition so self-evident to an 
 instructed mind, as scarcely to need discussion. But this 
 seems as far as most s[)iritnulistic writers go, ignoring the 
 great fact that the real })roblem pressing upon this age, 
 and indeed, upon every age, for solution, lies beA'ond this. 
 Your correspondent, after beautifully elucidating the sub- 
 ject up to this point, complacently stops, as if the subject 
 were exhausted and nothing more need be said or done.
 
 190 MI8CELLANE0DS. 
 
 To 11)0, it nppenrH that they liave just passed the vestibule, 
 ftiid Hcnrcely entered the teini)le of re]if,MOUs trutli and cul- 
 ture. N«)n(( but tlio exceedin^dy i^'iiorant at thi.s day doubt 
 timt af,'riculfuro, horticulture, mechanics, and other fields 
 of linnuin olTort and achievement, are developed under na- 
 ture's laws; but ho \ou<f as but a part of these laws are 
 known, and a still smaller part controlled to man's pur- 
 })oses, there must be a continued progress as human intel- 
 lect and will are brought to bear upon them. For a relig- 
 ious iconoclast, while with herculean blows demolishing 
 the prevalent religions, to complacently ignore any obliga- 
 tion upon him, or any one else, to substitute a better in its 
 place, is much as if a writer on civil government should 
 say to his fellow-citizens, " There is no obligation resting 
 upon you to manufacture a government for the public, or 
 to sid)stitute better laws for the bad ones you are exerting 
 yourselves to get repealed. Supernatural i^owers, either 
 malevolent or benevolent, have nothing to do witli govern- 
 ments; laws are made by men; men are a part of nature, 
 and nature will take care of herself." But the question 
 still recurs; and for ages w'ill recur, What is nature? What 
 are her laws, teachings, and requirements'? An ancient 
 mythology represents a siihinx as projiounding riddles to 
 those who approach her. If they are able to solve them it 
 is well; if not; she devours them. Nature is continuallj' 
 presenting this s])hinx-riddle to individuals, to nations, to 
 religions; if they solve it correctly, it is well; if not she de- 
 vours or at least mangles them. Admitting that man's in- 
 tellectual, spiritual, and executive powers are parts of na- 
 ture, it remains to ascertain what are the functions and 
 uses of these powers in promoting the moral and spiritual 
 development of the race and of individuals. It is a favorite 
 theory witli many, that when humanity attains the maturity 
 of its development on this planet, there will be such a 
 growth of the intellectual and moral faculties as to preclude 
 the use of the learned professions; every man will be a law 
 unto himself, his own priest, king, and physician. Some 
 writers seem to leap over the immense chasm of time sepa- 
 rating this condition from the present, especially when 
 treating of the subject of religion, which may be defined as 
 the best method and means the human intellect has been 
 able to devise and put in practical operation for the moral 
 and spiritual culture of the race.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 191 
 
 Spiritualists hold that civilized nations are sadly in need 
 of a new religion. It is true that the practical workings of 
 the churches (thanks to native common sense) are better 
 than their creeds and their tlieolog}'; but the striking dis- 
 crepancies can but have a damaging ellect. 
 
 —1S07. 
 
 THE NEED OF A NEW KELIGION. 
 
 NUMBER TWO. 
 
 It is well understood by those who look beneath the sur- 
 face, and scan the undercurrents of religious and intellect- 
 ual life, that in religious development, "we are now in a 
 trmisUiou ])eriod. These transition periods occur alike in 
 the physical, intellectual, ])olitical, and religious unfold- 
 ments. In the physical world, they mark the separation 
 of the several planets from tlieir parent suns, the satellites 
 from their planets, and the point separating the close of 
 one geological foiniation, or epoch, and the beginning of 
 another. In politics, they mark the beginning and end of 
 parties, nations, and particular systems of governments. 
 Sir Charles Lyell has labored to show that these changes 
 from one geological epoch to another were not produced 
 by any extraordinary causes or great convulsions, but by 
 the gradual operation of such causes as are in constant 
 operation. However this may be, the separating lines are 
 strongly marked, 
 
 Tliere is a striking analogy between the physical pro- 
 gressions and formations, and those of the religious or 
 spiritual. The mosaic jieriod n)ay be defined as commenc- 
 ing with the escape of the Hebrews from Egyptian bond- 
 age; and, as applied to a ])eople and a country, to have 
 ended with the advent of the Christian era, and the de- 
 struction of Jerusalem b}' the Romans; though it remains 
 to this day the religious s^'stem of a scattered ])eople. The 
 advent of Christ was the beginning of the Christian era; 
 and the transition period may fairly be considered to ex- 
 tend over the lirst three centuries thereof. 
 
 Some six centuries after Christ, Mahomet made his ap- 
 pearance, marking the beginning of a religious era of no
 
 192 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 mean importance. Malioinetanism spread witli fp-eat ra- 
 )»itlity, and iitlenj^tli threatened to overrun western Europe, 
 until Charles Martel met their war-like hosts on the bloody 
 plains of Poictiors and drove them back; and, after long 
 and cruel wars, the Mahon)etai) Moriscos were driven from 
 Spain. A celebrated historian sagely remarks, had the re- 
 sult of this battle been the reverse, perhaps the Mohametan 
 mosque would now be glittering in the place of Christian 
 cathedrals in western Europe. 
 
 I now write under the settled conviction that a new re- 
 ligions epoch is initiated, based on reason, science, and the 
 positive facts of man's existence, relations, and needs; and 
 that, as this epoch shall be unfolded, enough of the spirit's 
 future life, and of its hai)piness as the sequence of religious 
 culture, will be exhibited, to indicate, perhaps demonstrate, 
 the importance of a system of religious training and cul- 
 ture, which shall become as substantially and truly national 
 as was ever a,uy religion in any age or country. Many, 
 who have been accustomed to external vision, will not per- 
 ceive that we are in such a transition period. These changes 
 are slow, compared with the life of man, and not coming 
 at first with outward signs of observation, are not roadih' 
 perceived by external vision. Probably as great a propor- 
 tion of the people now read correctly the signs of the times, 
 as perceived the transitional character of the period during 
 the initiation of Christianity. For three centuries, the 
 fathers of the Church maintained an unequal struggle with 
 polytheism. During this time, the Christians were a hated, 
 despised, persecuted sect. The Proconsul Pliny had the 
 candor to acknowledge the industry, honesty, and law- 
 abiding character of the Christians; but this is more than 
 many others were willing to allow. " For the most part,"' 
 says the historian Tacitus, " this pernicious superstition 
 (Christianity) was suppressed, but it broke out again: not 
 onl}' over Judea, whence it sprang, but in the city of Rome 
 also, whither do run all the shameful and flagrant enormi- 
 ties.'" At length the Roman Emperor Constautine was 
 converted to Christianity in the fourth century, when the 
 Christians, being triumphant, turned and persecuted the 
 polytheists and demolished their temples. If the transi- 
 tion from Judaism and polytheism to Christianity occupied 
 over three centuries, it is scarcely reasonable to expect that 
 the transition from Chui-ch Theology to Progressive Har-
 
 MISCELLANEODS. 193 
 
 monialism will occupy less than one century, notwithstand- 
 ing the more general diflusion of education, the great facili- 
 ties of travel, the general advancement of science, and the 
 power of the printing press. 
 
 All who study transition periods, in religious or intellect- 
 ual development, will find unequivocal characteristics 
 strongly marked. In such times it will be seen that the 
 best minds, the deepest thinkers, have lost confidence in 
 the basic philosophy of the departing epoch. There is a 
 general quickening of intellect, and positions, long consid- 
 ered settled, are boldly questioned. Some frankly avow 
 their sentiments, and even their thoughts; but many, tram- 
 meled by their professions or social relations, studiously 
 conceal both. When Paul visited Athens he found an audi- 
 ence who did nothing else but hear or propound some new 
 thing. The decaying systems of iiolytheism and Grecian 
 philosophy proved a fertile soil for Cbristianit}', v/hen zeal- 
 ously- uttered with undoubting eontidence. 
 
 The world is still young and man in his early youth, as 
 is indicated by the rapid progress of humauity in scientific 
 knowledge and general intellectual development. The sj's- 
 tem of religion heretofore in vogue, like the tem])orary 
 teeth of childhood, incapable of that expansion requisite to 
 adai)t it to the uses of maturity, must, from its roots up- 
 wards, like the temporary teeth, be absorbed away, and 
 simultaneously substituted by a permanent growth, adajited 
 to the uses of mature manhood. There is a beautiful analogy 
 throughout nature's jn-ocesses, great and small, palpable 
 and impalpable, physical and spiritual. 
 
 The original and inquisitive character of the American 
 people will not permanently al)ide religion received at sec- 
 ond-hand. Our religion, like our government, must be in- 
 digenous to the soil; adapted to the peculiar character of 
 our people, the genius of our institutions, and capable of 
 future growth and exjiansion, like other sciences. It must 
 aim to develop, individualize, and render self-poised and 
 independent each individual soul. In doing tliis without 
 trenching on the inalienable right of free thought, investi- 
 gation, and belief, it must put in play a vigorous svstem 
 for the moral and religious culture of children, and the rest 
 of mankind, who are children of a larger growth. It must 
 be the peculiar duty and j^leasure of tiie ministers of reli- 
 gion, to enlarge the boundaries of religious science. The
 
 194 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 Clinrcb, instead of frowning at all inquiries concerninpf our 
 spiritual nature and future life, should approve of such in- 
 terr()<,'atorieH, made in a proper spirit, though the result 
 should vary from the dictum of an antique book. Here 
 lies the weakness of old theology; it assumes an infallible 
 standard not based on science; the continued progress of 
 which is continually undermining its foundation, putting 
 the clergy to disingenuous shifts to prevent the superstruc- 
 ture from tumbling about their ears. 
 
 DASH A WAY HALL. 
 
 INTERESTING LECTURE ON ASTRONOMY THE LATEST THEORY OF 
 
 ASTRONOMERS ON THE LIGHT AND HEAT OF THE SUN. 
 
 At the regular weekly meeting of the Dashaways, held 
 Sunday evening at their hall, there was a large attendance. 
 The chief attraction of the evening was a lecture by John 
 Ally n of Oakland on "The Modern Achievements of As- 
 tronomy." 
 
 The lecturer briefly traced the progress of astronomical 
 science from the time of the shepherds of Chaldea through 
 the clumsy theories of the Egyptians and the philosophers 
 of Greece to the demonstration of the Copernicau theory 
 by Newton. He then gave an account of later speculations 
 concerning interesting astronomical phenomena. 
 
 He said once ever}' thirty-three years there occurs a me- 
 teoric shower of great extent and brilliancy. The latest the- 
 ory of astronomers concerning these showers ma}' be stated 
 thus: There is a belt, composed of small masses of matter 
 weighing for the most part but a few ounces each, which re- 
 volves around the sun in a form similar to the orbits of the 
 planets, and is in composition similar to those larger me- 
 teors which penetrate our atmosphere and reach the surface 
 of the earth. This belt revolves at the rate of eighteen 
 hundred miles a minute. The earth moves with an equal 
 velocity, and when one of these masses of matter encoun- 
 ters our atmosphere, the great velocity causes it to ignite, 
 and we call it a meteor.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 195 
 
 The earth iu its revolutions each year passes through this 
 belt, and the masses of matter meeting the atmosphere in 
 greater or less number, a meteoric shower of greater or less 
 brilliancy is formed. The meteoric matter is not distrib- 
 uted equally throughout the belt, but is concentrated very 
 much at one point, which is called the node. In the revo- 
 lutions of the belt this node is brought into the patliway of 
 the earth once in thirty-three years, and the great number 
 of meteors then formed constitute a shower of much greater 
 brilliancy than at other times. The superior mass of the 
 earth attracts many of the small masses of matter out of 
 their regular courses, and a greater number than lie in the 
 immediate course of the earth are made to fall into its at- 
 mosphere; thus the extent and brilliancy of the shower is 
 increased. These meteoric masses raiely reach the surface 
 of the earth, being generally' consumed before penetrating 
 the atmosphere to within fifty miles of the earth's surface. 
 
 Taking the hint from this phenomenon, Mayer, a pro- 
 found German philosopher, boldly ]>ropagates a theory, 
 which has been received with favor by astronomers, that 
 the light and heat of the sun are caused by meteors falling 
 upon the sun's atmosphere. The mass of the sun being so 
 immense, it attracts to itself the small meteoric masses 
 which exist not only in the belt before spoken of, but also 
 throughout the solar system, and perhaps interstellar spaces. 
 The sun being so much more ponderous than the earth, at- 
 tracts so many more of the meteoric bodies that, while the 
 earth has an occasional " falling star," a shower of meteors 
 is constantly maintained u})on every portion of the sun's 
 atmosphere, giving light and heat to all the planets. 
 
 The atmosphere of the sun extends several thousand 
 miles from the sun's surface. It may be, therefore, that 
 while this process of tiie combustion of meteoric matter is 
 taking place in the upper portions of tlie atmosphere, only 
 so much light and heat ma}' reach the sun's surface, 
 through clouds aiid haze, as serve to i)roduce and support 
 vegetable and animal life in great perfection. 
 
 The invention of the spectrosco])e opened a new field of 
 investigation for the astronomer. By its aid it has been as- 
 certained that not all of the nebuhu are resolvable, some of 
 them being of gaseous composition. It is also demon- 
 strated by means of this instrument that the sun and stars 
 contain many of the material elements in common with the
 
 1 9(! MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 earth. By means of iho spectroscope, new proof is brought 
 (() the (lernoiistnition of tlie nebular theory, that the planets 
 wore formed from mattor originally in a gaseous state. 
 
 The lecturer explained the latest theories regarding the 
 formation of the solar system and the production of organ- 
 ized life, quoting from professors Mitchell, Huxley, and 
 others. He was listened to with much interest and received 
 appreciative applause. 
 
 At the close of the lecture Mrs. Phelps read Whittier's 
 " Pii)es at Lucknow," and several ladies and gentlemen 
 voluntered songs. 
 
 The meeting was closed by an address by the president 
 upon the objects of the Dashaway Association. — Bulletin. 
 
 SCIENTIFIC ASSOCIATION. 
 
 Editor Transcript: — Please insert the following plea for 
 a scientific association in Oakland, whose object shall be to 
 assist the members to acquire a knowledge of such natural 
 science as is already achieved, as well as to add to the com- 
 mon stock. It seems as if the times were ripe for the initi- 
 ating of such an association in this Athens of the Pacific. 
 It is not enough that there is an Academy of Science in San 
 Francisco, or that this is the seat of the State University. 
 The contemplated association would in no way conflict with 
 the aims or uses of either of these institutions, but would 
 be auxiliary to both; and would no doubt, be so regarded 
 by parties in interest. 
 
 A little over two hundred years ago, some half dozen 
 calm and thoughtful men in London, banded together and 
 formed the " Royal Society for the Improvement of Natu- 
 ral Knowledge." The ends they proposed were stated by 
 the founders thus: " Our business was (precluding mat- 
 ters of theology and State affairs) to discourse and consider 
 of philosophical inquiries and such as related thereto, as 
 physic, anatom}', geometry, navigation, natural experiments, 
 with the cultivation of these studies at home and abroad." 
 It was by this society that the method of Lord Bacon was 
 applied to scientific pursuits, and the principle of Newton 
 published to the world.
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 197 
 
 Professor Huxley says, " that if all the books in the 
 world, except the philosophical transactions of this society, 
 were destroyed, it is safe to say that the foundation of 
 physical science would remain unshaken, and that the vast 
 intellectual 2)rogress of the last two centuries would be 
 largely, though incompleteh' recorded." Without dwell- 
 ing' too long-, he also thinks that England's sanitary im- 
 provements b}'^ which the visitations of the plague have 
 been stayed for two centuries, and that her triumph over 
 the resources of nature in commerce, arts, manufactures, 
 and mechanics, are lai'geh' due to the labors of the Royal 
 Society. 
 
 I know that the difficulties in the cultivation of the phys- 
 ical sciences appear formidable now as they always have 
 done. No small amount of application is requisite to read 
 up the vast accumulations of modern science, and keep pace 
 with the achievements of scientists. So much is beiug done 
 in older and more favored localities, that it seems hopeless 
 to achieve distinction, and njediocrity seems humiliating, 
 however much it may benefit the individual, or pave the 
 way for some future Newton, Davy, or Faraday. 
 
 But in California, where there are so many, who, in their 
 several pursuits, have refused to recognize ilifliculties, it is 
 presumed that there are those who will not be kept back 
 by obstructions in their pathway. It is true tiiat achieve- 
 ments made in Europe or the East will be rendered availa- 
 ble to develop our material resources, but this will not de- 
 velop local talent, or jJ^'otuote other interests to which 
 wealth should be a means. The condition of our natural 
 resources tends to develop nuinopolies. Our irrigating canals, 
 mineral veins, lailroads, and tule lands, all tend to build 
 up gigantic fortunes on the one hand, and debasing 
 poverty on the other. This wealth i)romotes an ambition 
 for vain display and extravagant exi)enditure, damaging 
 alike to morals and tlie general i)rosperity. Art and sci- 
 ence are the natural and much needed counterpoises to tins 
 tendency, and in no place on this coast can they be fostered 
 with greater facility than here. It is ])resumed that there 
 is sufficient leisure, taste, wealth, and quenchless craving 
 for knowledge to render such a movement a grand success. 
 Many persons of scientific tastes would be attracted here 
 by our mild and genial climate, were facilities allorded to 
 indulge in this favorite pursuit, while not a few residents
 
 His miscellaneous. 
 
 will If'dvo our hIjoich for i)lace8 where greater opportunities 
 me aiVorded. Soino yvtiiH af,'0 it was argued that a good 
 jtiihlic library would, by its attractiou of residents, increase 
 the value of real estate many fold its cost; will not a scien- 
 titic assofiation do the same? 
 
 A SMART TRICK. 
 
 HOW A CAT INVEIGLES THE WARY RAT TO HIS DESTRUCTION. 
 
 A lady subscriber who noticed the item in the Post about 
 the smart cat in Castle Bros.' store, asked a Posl represen- 
 tative to come to her house and observe the cunning de- 
 vice of her cat in its war against the rats. The reporter 
 went up to the house, and saw in the back yard a big Tom 
 sunning himself near a tree. The boards around this tree 
 liad been cut, so as to give the tree a chance to grow. 
 Tliiough this aperture the rats were in the habit of emerg- 
 ing for the purpose of raiding the premises when the ab- 
 sence of a smell of cat assured them of impunity. 
 
 The lady took a bacon bone and threw it out in the yard. 
 Immediately Tom got up, and taking the bone, carried it 
 near the hole and began rolling on it and rubbing himself 
 with it very industriously. After he had greased himself 
 well, he left the bone near the hole, lay down in front of it 
 anil appeared to go to sleep. 
 
 "Now," said the lady, "he will stay there until dark 
 and all through the night, and in tlie morning there will be 
 half a dozen rats laid out behind him." 
 
 The reporter asked what he greased himself for, and the 
 lady said: " You see, the rats smell him if he remains there 
 in his normal condition, and won't come out; but the 
 grease of the bacon bone kills the cat smell on him and the 
 rats aie deceived, and when they come out, attracted by tlie 
 smell of bacon, he catches them. When he can get a ven- 
 ison bone his catch is enormous, sometimes as many as 
 twelve rats being found dead in the morning. As soon as 
 any of us get up in the morning, he will scratch at the door 
 to be let in, and will, by his mewing, induce us to go out 
 and see his handiwork. Come round and look over the
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 199 
 
 fence as you go down to your office in the morning, and 
 see how many prizes be has drawn in the rodent lottery." 
 
 The reporter passed by the back yard the next day, and 
 sure enough, there lay seven dead rats, side by side, ready 
 for inspection. And they say cats and the other lower an- 
 imals have only instinct, and don't think. 
 
 CURIOUS PHENOMENA. 
 
 On Sunda}', Jul}' 1st, a large audience in San Francisco 
 witnessed phenomena which arc worthy of record in the 
 transactions of every scientific society in the civilized world; 
 and lest this statement may seem exaggerated, the follow- 
 ing statement of facts is penned: These phenomena oc- 
 curred in the presence of Mrs. Eeid of San Jose. The lady 
 had two slates mounted witli wooden frames, each about 
 four and a half by seven inches. The lady would rub the 
 slates clean, put a bit of pencil as large as a grain of wheat 
 on one, place the other ou top, and invite any one in tlie 
 audience to take hold of one end of these slates with both 
 hands, and she would hold the other end in the same man- 
 ner. This would continue from one to five minutes, when 
 the slates were opened and found to be partly covered with 
 writing, intelligible, and pertinent to some one i)resent, 
 generally the party holding the slates. One message was 
 as near like this as memory- serves: " I am getting along 
 well. I have outgrown the conditions surrounding me 
 previous to the great change. Signed, 'Your Grandson.'" 
 A man stepped forward who appeared like a business man 
 of the world. He held the slates, which on opening con- 
 tained this Avritiug in a bold hand, quite ditlerent from that 
 of other writing: "lam happy to meet you. "Your old- 
 time friend, Wm. C. llalstou." The man appeared to be 
 confounded, but collecting his thoughts, he turned to the 
 audience and said: " I am a skeptic as to everything I do 
 not see demonstrated, but I have no longer doubts of that," 
 pointing to the slates. It is not necessary to detail other 
 examples. The writer was sitting close by and watched 
 things closely, and is satisfied that trickery or fraud is out
 
 200 MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 of the question as nn explanation. It noust therefore be 
 ilonr, as it junports to be, by the spirit of some deceased 
 jjfMsons or l\v some law of mind wholly unknown to science, 
 and cvfMi in direct conflict with the reco^Tiized laws of raat- 
 t(M- and mind. These ]»henomena can be re])eated easily, 
 as the writer has demonstrated through mediumship of 
 three other parties, extending back eight years. 
 
 As a stimulus to ferret out the fact, law, and significance 
 of these phenomena, I will give a hundred dollars in gold 
 coin to any member of the Academy of Sciences, or any 
 professor of the University' of California, who will prove 
 tluise phenomena to be done by trickery or fraud, or any 
 luw of mind or matter other than the spiritual hypothesis 
 includes. A friend at mj' elbow, who is able to fill his en- 
 gagements, says he will give a thousand dollars on the 
 same terms. 
 
 ADDRESS TO SOUTHERN SPIRITUALISTS. 
 
 Atlanta, Ga., Aug. 1884. 
 Da. J. Allyn — Dear Sir: 
 
 Your address to the Southern Association of Spirit- 
 ualists was highly appreciated throughout the South. 
 
 G. "W. Kates, 
 Editor Light. 
 
 The following letter from John Allyn, delegate from San 
 Francisco, California, Avas read and ordered to be inserted 
 in the records of the association: 
 
 Mr. President, Brothers and Sisters: Having been ap- 
 ]K)inted by the Progressive Spiritualists Association of San 
 Francisco a delegate to your meeting, I indulged in antici- 
 pations of a season of spiritual refreshment in the pure air 
 and amid the magnificent scenery of your well-chosen loca- 
 tion. In May I was at Knoxville and Chattanooga, but, 
 like Moses on Pisgah, I viewed the promised laud, but was 
 not permitted to enter it. "Without knowing the measure
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 201 
 
 of your success, I shall congratulate you tliat you have se- 
 cured so central and salubrious a location, which, I trust, 
 will be held sacred to spiritual intercourse and culture long 
 after its struggling founders have passed to the other side, 
 still to work in this best of causes. In expressing my 
 hearty wishes for your success and usefulness in promoting 
 liberal and progressive thought, I feel that I am expressing 
 the feeling of thousands scattered from the Atlantic ocean 
 to 
 
 " Wliere the surging breakers roar 
 Along the grand Pacific shore." 
 
 TVithoiit pretending to the gift of prophecy, I feel im- 
 pressed that an invincible host of spirits are now marshaling 
 their forces to aid in a grand development of spiritualism 
 in your section. To achieve the best results it is necessary 
 that we who remain in the bod}' should co-operate with 
 them with wisdom, energy, and self-sacrificing devotion. 
 Such is the condition of humanity, and particularly of reli- 
 gion and science, that we shall encounter determined oppo- 
 sition where we should receive kindly assistance; all things 
 spiritual exist by virtue of immutable law, and the results 
 of investigation promote all that is best and highest in re- 
 ligion. The scientist who denies sinritualism is confronted 
 with facts which he cannot explain and which even go coun- 
 ter to his cherished philosoj^hy. The religionist who de- 
 nies it is ignoring the best evidences of his best doctrines, 
 and surely playing into the hands of the bold materialist; 
 therefore, the weakening and final capitulation of these two 
 opi)Osii)g forces is but a question of time. 
 
 Permit me to suggest that, to promote the best welfare 
 of spiritualism, it is necessary to tlevelop and encourage 
 the best niediuniship, and when found (a work in which the 
 spirit workl will co-operate) it is important that such me- 
 diums should be so sustained as to reduce to a minimum 
 the temptation to mingle that which is genuine and useful 
 with that which is otherwise — results which all intelligent 
 si)iritualists dei)lore — should be avoided by the kind and 
 generous co-operation of all. 
 
 The social forces should be brought to our aid. We 
 
 should encourage assemblies for sjiiritual culture with all 
 
 the best means at our command. It is not enough that we 
 
 get convincing evidence of a future life, but we should con- 
 
 13
 
 202 MIRCELLANE0D8. 
 
 tiimo lo ;^'ro\v Hpiritnnlly mitil we pass out of tlie bod}' with 
 the full stature of men iiiul women. .Such an achievement 
 iH worthy of a life eil'ort, and is the grandest fulfillment of 
 eurtlily destiny. 
 
 We HJioiild (h) all in our power to promote personal lib- 
 erty and free(h)m of thought. It is not possible that those 
 who think at all should think alike or come to identical 
 conclusions. The vain and hurtful creeds of the past should 
 teach us to co-operate for the promotion of the good work, 
 without trenching on the sacred right of individual liberty. 
 
 In conclusion, I would say that next to mediumship, the 
 Children's Progressive Lyceum stands as a means of i)ro- 
 moting true sjiiritualism and sound views u]ion religion. 
 Let no elTort be spared to maintain them Avhenever it is 
 possible. Spiritualism is amenable to law as much as sci- 
 ence, agriculture, or commerce. No seed falls upon good 
 soil that will not germinate, and its fruitage will depend 
 u]»on the culture it receives. Happy wdl be the soul which 
 has been so interested in spiritual work, that on entering 
 spirit life it will still be happy in working in the spiritual 
 vineyard. 
 
 John Allyn. 
 
 St. Helena, Cal., July 8, 1884. 
 
 OUR PETRIFIED FOREST. 
 
 By Db. John Allyn. 
 Read at St. Helena Reading Club, Ausust, 18S3. 
 
 Within a few hours' ride of St. Helena are natural phe- 
 nomena which, if they were in Europe, Egypt, or India, 
 would be frequently visited by interested savants. I refer 
 to silieitied trees, known as the petrified forest. , They 
 ditl'er materially from anything described by geologists. 
 Professor Huxley visited a petrified forest in Egypt, which 
 he thus describes: 
 
 " Every visitor to Cairo makes a pilgrimage to the pet- 
 rified forest, which is to be seen in the desert a few miles 
 to the north-east of that city; and indeed it is a spectacle 
 worth seeing. Thousands of silicified trees, some of them 
 thirty feet long and a foot or two in diameter, lie scattered
 
 MISCELLANEOUS. 203 
 
 about and partly imbedded iu tbe sandy soil. Not a trunk 
 has branches, or roots, or a trace of bark. None are up- 
 right. The structure of wood which had not time to de- 
 cay before sililication is usually preserved in its minutest 
 details. The structure of these trees is often obscure, as if 
 they had decayed before sililication, and they are often 
 penetrated, like other decayed wood, by fungi which, along 
 with it, have been silicihed. 
 
 "All these trunks have weathered out of miocene sand- 
 stone; and it has been suggested that Avhen this sandstone 
 was deposited, the Nile brought down great masses of tim- 
 ber from the upper country, just as the Mississippi sweeps 
 down its rafts into the Gulf of Mexico at the present day, 
 and that a portion of these, after long exposures and knock- 
 ing about in tbe flood., became silted up in the sandy shore 
 of the estuary. The greater part of the petrified forest is at 
 present one thousand feet above the level of the sea, in the 
 midst of the heights wliich form the eastern continuation of 
 the Mokattam. It has therefore shared in the general ele- 
 vation which took place after the beginning of the mio- 
 cene epoch. That such elevation took place is proved by 
 the marine beds of that epoch lying upon the upraised lime- 
 stone plateau of upper Egypt." 
 
 In 1SG2 Professor Whitney passed u]^ Napa valley, and 
 made an extended geological survey at the expense of the 
 State, but makes no mention of the petrified forest, 
 although he passed within four miles of it. I can only ac- 
 count for this b}' supposing he did not know of its exist- 
 ence. It consists of a large number of trees, some of them 
 five feet in diameter, completely petrified, even the roots 
 and larger branches. Most of them lie prone upon the 
 ground where they grew. They are quite unlike the petri- 
 factions of Egypt, whose logs had been worn and battered 
 in their passage from the upper waters of the Nile until the 
 limbs, roots, and even the bark, were worn away. In one 
 instance a trunk sixty feet long still stands in an upright 
 position. Many of these trunks are broken square across 
 in lengths of four to eight feet, showing the grain or 
 rings and structure of the wood as phiinl}' as if a tree 
 had been cut in two with a saw, and then smoothed with a 
 plane. 
 
 The soil is poor, of a cretaceous formation. It is sup- 
 posed that petrifaction does not take place except where
 
 •Jul MISCELLANEOUS. 
 
 wiitir ciin liiive free i)lHy to Hnj)i)ly tlic mineral matter. The 
 Hite of this forcHt is nbout one tiiousaJitl feet above the level 
 of the sea. The locality is hilly, iiulicating that pfreat 
 chanjjfis have taken place since these trees f^rew. They 
 must have been in a basin which became filled with water 
 until j^otrifaction took place, and the f,'round afterwards 
 elevated to its present i)osition. It is difficult to account 
 for the trunks beinp; broken across, except by their fall 
 from an ui)right position after the trees were petrified. 
 These jH'trifactions are semi-opal — by miners called wood- 
 opal. Some of these are plainly of the redwood species. 
 Professor Asa Gray says that the redwood forests of Cali- 
 fornia are but the vanishing remnants that existed in earlier 
 ages. 
 
 It is to be hoped that our legislators will make an appro- 
 priation so that we may have our geological survey com- 
 pleted, wlien we might expect a more complete account of 
 this extraordinary phenomenon. 
 
 —ISSO. 
 
 MOUNT ST. HELENA. 
 
 In the museum of the geolopiical survey is a copper jilate, 
 on which is engraved the name of Wasnesseusky, a Russian 
 naturalist, and the date, June 12, 18J\ This indicates the 
 date at which he ascended Mount St. Helena, and gave it 
 this, name in honor of the Empress of Russia. This is a 
 volcanic mountain, from which volcanic material has spread 
 east and southward. The height of this mountain, as meas- 
 ured by the coast survey, is 4,313 feet.
 
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