CT 2L7 5 UC-NRLF B 3 53b b21 .• if :\\J ► "HE, BEING DEAD, YET SPEAKETH." TWO DISCOURSES, OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF THE HON. JOHN HALL DELIVERED OCTOBER 3rd, 1847, BY NATHANIEL hIeGGLESTON, PASTOE OF THE CONGREGATIONAL C HW B CH^ lajELLINGTON, CONN. SYRACUSE: printed FOR THE FAMILY AND FRIENDS OF THE DECEASED BY BARNS, SMITH & COOPER. 1848. HE, BEING DEAD, YET SPEAKETH. TWO DISCOURSES, OCC.^IONED BY THE DEATH OF THE HON. JOHN HALL DELIVERED OCTOBER 3ed, 1S47, BY NATHANIEL H. EGGLESTON, PASTOR OF THE CONGREGATIO>'AL CHURCH, IN ELLINGTON, CONN. SYRACUSE: PRINTED FOR THE FAMILY AND FRIENDS OF THE DECEASED. BY BARNS, SMITH & COOPER. 1848. To THE Family and Friends of the Deceased : These Discourses, necessarily written in the utmost possible haste, and which I have neither time to rewrite nor to revise in any just manner, I should not suffer to appear in a printed form, even for private circulation, were it not for the presumption, which I indulge, that the few who are expected to be my readers, will vacate the office of literary criticism in the more grateful occupa- tion of contemplating eveii an imperfect record of the life of one whom they cherished with affectionate regard, and in the desire to make his virtues con- spicuous in their own lives. N. H. E. DISCOURSE I. HEBREWS XI. 4 He being dead, yet speaketh. Sad as Is death, under any circumstances, It Is not the end of us. It can not prevent our living in another world. Nay, we are warranted in the supposition that death does not even put an end to our existence in this world, but only changes the outward form and condition of our life, while, so far as the true essence and end of our being are con- cerned, we may as truly live, even upon this earth, after coldness has fallen upon our bodies and corruption seized them, as before that event, upon which we are wont to look with so much dread. For aught that we know, the disem- bodied spirits of the dead may be inhabiting the earth with us, witnessing its scenes and occupied with its pursuits, as truly as when they dwelt here, clothed in flesh and blood. But whether we credit such a literal life on earth after our bodily death, or refuse to give credence to any such exist- ence, it is yet true, beyond all gainsaying, that man does, in some important manner, survive upon earth the dissolu- tion of his physical frame. In his example, in the legiti- mate consequences of his conduct, in the results of his plans, in the lessons imparted by his visible acts, he lives long after his body has been consigned to the grave and corruption has laid hold of his flesh. It is a dignified view of life which we gain, when we thus regard it as free from any serious interruption, by death. It opens upon us the sight of our immortality, and reminds ivi76ll37 us that we are not made to live only as the brutes, and like them to perish ; but are creatures of a higher mould and a nobler destiny than they; And Avhen this view is taken, of a life well ordered dur- ing its condition of bodily existence, it becomes at the same time one of an elevated and consoling character. "Whether we contemplate our own decease or that of friends, there is much to mitigate the sorrow which such bereavement necessarily occasions, when we can believe that an exam- ple and an influence of goodness and virtue are still to remain on earth, after the bodily form, through which they have hitherto been manifested, has perished forever. When these are left to us, we can dismiss the corporeal structure with comparatively little reluctance. It is with this exalted view of human life that the apos- tle uses the language of the text, in regard to one who lived well nigh six thousand years ago. Abel, the second man born on earth, is presented to us in the Bible with few details of life or character. We barely learn that hia occupation was that of a herdsman ; that on a certain oc- casion he manifested his regard for God by ofl'ering to him in sacrifice a portion of his flock, and that in a fit of jeal- ousy his brother took his life. Our first thought on reading this narrative is, that Abel lived in vain, so soon, as it would seem, is his earthly ex- istence terminated. But God creates nothing in vain, nothing which fails to accomplish a valuable end. Abel's bodily form was not essential to the securing of God's pur- pose in him. In the simple fact of his ofl'ering to God a sacrifice from his flock, there was that which had an im- portance, independent of all corporeal organization. There was that which could act upon the world, age after age forever. There was in it the proof that, in that early period of the world, God was not without sufficient witness 5 to men of his goodness and his rightful chiim upon their love and obedience. There was that in it "vvhich indicated that Abel saw reason to put his trust in God. Having put forth this one act alone, Abel could die and yet not leave the world unbenefitted by his living in it. The testimony of that act has come down the lapse of centuries ; it has sur- vived the flood, the confusion of tongues, and all the acci- dents of the world's history. It has even reached us, and Abel, though dead, yet speaketh. He speaks of God, of faith and duty. Speaking thus, he lives most truly, and is superior to the bondage of a mortal dissolution. We welcome him as a cotemporary with us. We hear his words. Well is it if we are ready to give heed to them. The instance of Abel is only one illustration of a gene- ral fact. Like him, Noah and Jacob, and David and Paul, though long since dead to bodily sight, yet live and speak to us. Like him, all the worthies of all ages still speak to us. '^ Though dead, they speak in reason's ear, And m example live ; Their faith and hope and mighty deeds, Still fresh instruction give."' So, likewise, it is true of every man after death, that though dead he speaketh. He leaves behind him an exam- ple and a character of some kind, which have a voice that will be heard, through a sphere of greater or less extent; But especially is this fact noticeable and worthy of con- sideration in the case of those who have occupied a con- spicuous position among their fellow men. Nothing can he more manifestly true, than that such persons survive the dissolution of their bodies, and have a voice which is heard long after the grave has closed upon their corporeal structure. Though dead, they speak ; and speak with a power and influence proportionate to the providential posi- tion and the real character of their visible lives. 6 The recent death of an honored member of this commu- nity is Avell calculated to deepen our convictions of the fact that the grave is not the end of us ; and I shall therefore make it my object, in what I have now to say, to set forth this very important fact, as it is illustrated in his history. Before I proceed directly to my main purpose, however, a brief summary of his life will not be without interest, nor out of place. John Hall was born in this town, February 26, 1783. He was the youngest of four children, and an only soni One of his sisters died at an early age. , The others were married, the one to the Rev. Diodate Brockway, and the other to Levi Wells, late of this place. His father, whose name was also John Hall, was a merchant in the South- East part of this town, a man of distinguished business habits, a devoted christian, and at the time of his death, ai Beacon of this church. Of the earlier life of the subject of this sketch, compara- tively little is known. He fitted for College with the Rev. Mr. Prudden of Enfield, and was then distinguished as a scholar. He entered Yale College, as a Freshman, in the year 1798, two years after the death of his father, and throughout his collegiate course maintained a high rank for scholarship and correct deportment. He early attracted the favorable notice of Dr. Dwight, then President of the College, which notice grew into warm friendship continu- ing through the life of the latter. In the year 1804, Mr. Hall was made a Tutor in College and acted as such until the year 1807, when he returned to Ellington, for the pur- pose of a permanent residence, and for a short time was connected in business with the late Mr. Wells. He after- wards purchased a farm, which he continued to improve until about the year 1830. At the early age of twenty-nine he was made Judge of the Court of this county, and held the office for several years. He represented this town twice in the State Legislature, in the years 1815 and 1819. He also held the office of Judge of Probate for several years. In the year 1817, when a candidate for Congress, the po- litical party to which he was attached was unsuccessful throughout the State. In the year 1820, he retired, from choice, from political life, and thenceforth took no active part in political affairs. In the year 1825, he established, at his own expense, a Select School. This, in the year 1829, grew into the pre- sent High School, the duties of Principal of which he dis- charged until within a few years of his death. Soon after his first marriage, Mr, Hall was brought to the verge of the grave by a violent attack of typhus fever, in consequence of which his eyes were permanently weak- ened, and his physical powers so enfeebled as to prevent him from making much bodily exertion at any subsequent period. But though thus cut off, in a great measure from the use of books and the physical toils of life, he was by no means idle. T\Tien hands and eyes failed, his thoughts gave him ample employment ; and that this employment was not without profitable results was testified by his con- versation, his writings, and his occasional public remarks. At the close of his senior year in college, Mr. Hall be- came hopefully pious, and throughout the remainder of his life maintained a consi>.ent and eminent Christian charac- ter. Eew have studied the Bible more diligently than he. It was his daily habit, not only to read it, but to study it with all the ability of his own mind and the critical help of others. He studied it abundantly, and it rendered back to him abundant consolation. He was one who had seen afliiction. A wife, sisters, a son of much promise who bore his own name, a year since a daughter, and but two short months ago a beloved son on ■whom his old age had begun to lean, — these he was called to part with. 8 He took a very warm interest in all benevolent move- ments, contributing willingly to their support, according to liis means. For many years he was the President of the Tolland County Missionary Society, and a Life Member and Vice President of the Connecticut Bible Society. On the Sabbath before his death he made inquiry concerning the recent meeting of the A. B. C. F. M., and expressed great interest in its success. He was a man devotedly attached to his family. The society of his children was his delight, their mental and moral improvement an object of constant solicitude, and in the desire to improve every opportunity of imparting in- struction, even his daily table became a school. And now that he is dead, he has left to them the rich lessons of paren- tal wisdom, and to all the example and the testimony of a godly life. Such, briefly is the history of one who has filled a large place among us. He is now dead. The great event which awaits all the race of mankind has befallen him. Coldness has settled upon his flesh: his blood has ceased to run its wonted course, and we have carried away liis lifeless re- mains and laid them down in the grave. But, my friends, though that form which we so well remember has disappeared forever, think not that he who bore that form and animated it is forever dissociated from us. No, blessed be God, man's life is not confined to a bodily organization ; his continuance is not dependent upon the endurance of nerves and muscles ; his sphere of action is not circumscribed by the limits of corporeal power and corporeal position. The body is only the temporary dwel- ling place of the soul — the place where the man takes up his abode while engaged in discharging a certain business which he has to do in this material world. The man is not there exclusively. He is abroad in the world, doing that which is before him to be done. He runs throughout the d and imparting in turn, it may be, to others in almost every clime. He is gaining lessons in history and experience every day, and is every day imparting an influence, by his life and example, which, striking first those immediately around him, transmits itself onward, from them to others, until its reach is bounded only by the confines of the globe. It is a low view of our nature which can not see ourselves except as we are connected with a bodily structure, and which regards man as tied down to the capabilities of a mass of bones and muscles. Rather are these mere me- chanical instruments, which we make use of for the pur- pose of attaining certain ends, and which, when the ends are secured, we cast away as things of no further use. My hearers, he who has just vanished from our bodily sight has not perished. He has only left his tenement of clay to occupy a better one. He yet lives, lives as truly as ever, nay^ far more manifestly than when his life was controlled in a measure by a physical organization. That was a clog upon his powers at times, preventing him from accomplishing what his spirit prompted to. Now we be- lieve he is bound by no hindrances or impediments of such a character. He lives. He speaks. He speaks to us to- day, and will speak to us and to others for long time to come. I. He speaks by the genekal impression of his cha- EACTER. In the estimation of all, he was a man of intel- ligence. By this I mean that he possessed a high under' standing and used it with diligence and effectiveness. The powers of his mind were naturally of a high order and capacity. But to this native capacity was added the dis- cipline of a thorough education. Thus equipped for the pursuits of life, his mind was not suffered to waste itself in sloth nor dream itself aAvay in elegant idleness. He was always a busy man: never supposing that he had 10 nothing to do or nothing to learn, and so he made con- stant additions to the sum of his knowledge. Nor was this knowledge of a comparatively useless character. He was eminently practical in the tendencies of his mind. When he thought, when he set his mind to the business of reflection, when he bent it in close and continuous study, it was with some practical end in view, it was that he might accomplish something which should be of real, sub- stantial benefit to himself or others. As a natural conse- quence, he gained among men a reputation for intelligence. They respected his attainments and frequently sought his opinion in regard to the various plans and concerns of life. His mind was a treasure to the community, a well filled store-house to which they could at any time resort. He w^as a scholar through life. Unlike many however whose lives are in a considerable measure spent with books, this did not beget in him that speculative habit of mind divorced from practical experience which is continu- ally exhausting itself in wild theories and visionary pro- jects. This fact I cannot forbear to mention as a vindi- cation of true scholarship from the disrepute into which these visionary dreamers are continually bringing it. You know, my hearers, at least those of you who have attained a life of mature years, by a happy experience in the case of him whose death we all lament, that one who is a close student may be none the less fitted, by reason of his books or his hours of studious reflection, for all the ordinary of- fices and pursuits of life. But not only was Mr. Hall a man of acknowledged in- telligence, he was likewise a person of upright character. Nor was he one of those who claim and sometimes receive the praise due to uprightness of character, but whose up- rightness is simply that cautious policy or studious selfish- ness which carefully avoids overstepping the limits of ac- 11 knowledged rights and obligations, wliile it is "willing to take advantage of ignorance or misconception to further its own objects. He was above all this. He was not one of those who are ever ready to talk of the beauty of an honest life, or to make their boast of the possession of the virtue which is implied in such a course of living. He had the virtue, however, without the boasting. The upright attitude of his body was in fine keeping with the character of the man and was a free expression of it. His course of life was not the devious track of expediency and selfish policy, but the straight forward line of sober truth and steadfast principle. No one, I believe, ever ventured to charge him with duplicity or a willingness to deceive under any circumstances. It would be saying little of such a man to say that he kept within the bounds of statutory jus- tice and never infringed the well known rio-hts of others. This is a character which is consistent with an utter lack of good principle and Avhich the veriest knave may wear under the garb of an external fairness and gentility. It was a characteristic of Mr. Hall not only to refrain from trespassing upon rights ivell knoivn, but to forbear indulg- ing in any act which might infringe the possible rights of others. But you all understand his character too well in this respect to require from me any further exhibition of it. He left behind him, as all will agree, the reputation of an upright life, a reputation which is far from being attained by all men. But what is yet higher praise, Mr. Hall was a man of unquestioned lyiety. This was the crowning excellence of the man, and this imparted an element of its own kind to his other characteristic qualities. This, without question, made him a more intelligent man than he would otherwise have been, and this was the soul of his uprightness. There is a power in religion not only to soften and warm the heart and give birth to all good and happy affections, but a power 12 likewise to impart strength and vigor to the intellectual faculties, and thus makes him who receives it into his soul at the same time a better and a wiser man. Mr. Hall was a religious man and experienced the value of a religious life. A student, of the closest habits of ap- plication, he made the Bible one of his classics, and pored over its pages when his children wondered how he could be so interested and absorbed in that familiar household book. A man of independent thought, who called no man master, and was willing to follow truth let it lead him whither it might, he found in the precepts and expositions of the sacred volume that which commended itself to his reason, and commanded with the voice of supreme autho- rity the implicit obedience of his life. The religion of such a man is indeed a religion of value and a thing of ex- alted character. It is not, for it cannot be, a matter of mere feeling, a thing of frames and sympathetic impulse. It is first of all established in the deepest convictions of the understanding, and then is admitted to the cells of feeling and emotion. Such a man obeys"God, not so much because he feels it to be seemingly and desirable, as because he knozos it to be right. Such a religion is not dependent for its own comfort upon the contagious emotions of others, but relying on its own firm basis of well established con- viction, holds fast its communion with God and finds con- tinual life and peace therein. Such was the religion of our departed brother : a calm, quiet, sober religion ; but a religion which could stand up and maintain itself manfully and rationally against all the cavils and reasonings of skepticism or infidelity. It bore him through the world calmly and steadfastly amid many and severe trials, and proved itself a true and a valuable religion, inasmuch as it brought him out of every scene of trouble with his faith in God unshaken, and his confidence in the truth of the scriptures undiminished. It sustained 13 him in his final decline to the grave, not indeed in raptur- ous ecstacy, not without some anxious self-examination, but yet with a steady reliance upon the Redeemer, in whom he had long trusted, and with a quiet resignation to the will of his God. The life is the best test of piety, not the couch of sickness and pain, and tried in this way, all con- fess that Mr. Hall was a man whose life was governed by the precepts of the Bible. Since his death I have f:und a hymn which he wrote and which expresses so accui-ately the state of his mind a few days before he died, that I cannot forbear to quote it. It is founded on the question which Christ put to Peter, "Lovest thou me?" '•Love I thee, thou blest Redeemer? Love I thee, thou sinner's friend? Love I thee, my soul's preserver? Whither can such question tend? Well I know my heart is fickle; Well I know the force of sin; Well I know a subtle tempter, Foe to virtue, lurks within. Still the question gives me anguish, When I hear it put by thee ; Dost tJwu, Lord, indeed suspect me ? Dost thou some unsoundness see ? By thy spirits' power to quicken, By thine own sufficient might, Set me free firom all deception ; Keep me safely — keep me right. Grace to lean upon thy bosom, Grace to purify and save, Grace, till I arrive in heaven, — Grace, eternal grace, I crave." Thus, my friends, he who is gone speaks to us, and that 14 most forcibly, in the knowledge of his character, as that of an intelligent, upright, and Christian man. II. But he speaks also hj the void created hy Ms death. We miss him as a counsellor, in all the relations of life. We can no more go to him and receive the advice of his "wisdom, and the assistance of his judgment in matters of taste and policy. We miss him in the street. We hear no more his words by the way-side. His feet have ceased to cross our thresholds. We can not go and meet him in his own dwelling, where so kind a welcome awaited those who came. We can not rely upon his voice to be raised in ad- vocacy of every hopeful purpose and in rebuke of every wrong. We miss him in the church, the place he loved, the place he honored, the place he adorned. Who shall come to us month by month with intelligence of the gospel's progress in that capital of Greece, where Paul first planted the standard of the religion of Jesus ?* Who will stand in his place at the weekly meeting for prayer and religious conference and give us his enlightened counsel to correct our errors and impart new strength to our faith ? Who will stand up in his stead before this community to commend religion to all as a means of happiness, and to testify to all that the precepts of the gospel will withstand the scrutiny of the keenest intellect and the most labored investigation ? Alas ! the church mourns the loss of one whose place will not be speedily filled. The interests of religion, the cause of truth, the best hopes of a man, have lost an advocate and friend whose loss is a public calamity. And permit me to bear my testimony to his value. I can say, from the deepest conviction, the friend, the counsellor, the helper is * Note. — Reference is here made to the fact that in our arrange- ment of the monthly prayer meeting for the spread of Christian truth throughout the world, we assign dilierent portions of the world to dif- ferent members of the church, as their field of special investigation, and that in this arrangement, to Mr. Hall Greece and Turkey were assigned. 15 gone. By his death there is a void created which none can feel more sensibly, save the immediate relatives, than he whose office it is to preach the gospel here and to take the oversight of the church which God has here planted. May God himself fill the place now made vacant by new and larger gifts of the Holy Spirit. Do you not hear the voice of our absent brother thus speaking through his very absence ? Me thinks I hear it everywhere ; at home and abroad, in the place of business and in the house of worship ; and everywhere I receive the assurance that though dead, he speaketh. DISCOURSE II. III. I arrested my discourse this morning, after having led you to notice the fact that our brother, whose recent death we all lament, still speaks to us by the general impression of the character which he sustained among us, and by the void which his death has created. These, however, are not the only ways in which he speaks to us. There is a voice to which none of us can be deaf, which comes from the more obvious ivoi'Tcs and labors of the man. These, the proper treatment of our subject demands that we notice. And where, my hearers, can we turn our eyes, without behold- ing the proofs that Mr. Hall has spent his life here ? In what direction can we look, without meeting the witnesses of his labor, the evidences of his intelligence, the tokens of his '-^ste? Who can look out upon the face of oui* Town without hailing him as a public benefactor ? Mr. Hall was a student, as I have said, and eminent in scholarship, and it might be supposed that a student would be little esteemed and counted of little value, in a place so ex- clusively agricultural as this. The notion has possessed the minds of many, that the only labor and worth are those of the husbandman or mechanic. But who, I ask, took almost the first step toward making this valley a desirable and a profitable place of residence to the farmer ? Was it not a student ? Was it not a man of books ? Was it not Mr. Hall ? He it was, unless I am very much in error, who, 18 by tlic example of his judicious plans and experiments, taught others how to turn a large portion of this pleasant valley from almost a waste into a garden. Pie was a pioneer in introducing that improved system of agriculture which is combining the principles of science with the physical strength of the husbandman, and while it makes his labors less exhausting and more productive, confers upon them the dignity of an intellectual process, and renders them the instruments of a refined happiness before unthought of. He undertook to apply philosophy to agriculture, rightly judging that He who made the earth to yield its increase for the support of man, had made it to yield its increase in obedience to certain and definite laws. In the endeavor to apply the principles of science to the culture of the earth, he experimented, as every true philo- sopher does. Doubtless, too, he sometimes failed of the expected results, as every philosopher and every man does at times. At others he succeeded, and so advanced to cer- tainty and dignity the occupation of the husbandman. But a failure in philosophy is not a thing to be ashamed of, nor a thing of no positive value. If he was successful, others have the results of that success. If any experiment disap- pointed his expectations, it yet did others a service in warn- ino; them and saving them the cost of a similar trial. Thus we profit by the success as well as by the failure of oth- ers. The man of parts works out his own fortune, not only with his hands but also with his head, while he who is too dull for this may yet look over the fence and borrow or steal the wisdom which another has brought to light. The man who reclaims a sand barren or a marsh, and makes it susceptible of cultivation, though his coined money may be diminished thereby, is necessarily none the poorer on that account, but may leave a legacy for his children far better than the treasures of the bank. He has changed his wealth 19 from a form in ■svliicli it might be lost to one as permanent as the rocky globe itself. Silver and gold are only certain kinds of earth, and none the better because they shine. Mr. Hall, then, speaks to us as the intelligent husband- man, as the husbandman who tilled the ground, not for his own benefit alone, but for the profit of all around him. He speaks in these green fields ; and he will continue to speak from them. As often as these acres shall sprout up in the verdure of spring, or groan under their autumnal burden, they will be his voice to those who dwell here, reminding them that he was once an inhabitant of this place. He speaks, too, from these noble trees, whose drooping limbs hang down as though to weep in concert with us, and whose leaves are falling into the grave with him whose pro- vident care has made them our shelter and delight. They are his living monument, and as there are "tongues in trees," he shall speak through them in long time to come. They are the monuments of his taste, and of his goodness also ; for his hand planted them, for no purpose of exclu- sive benefit to himself. They have been the charm of our village. They have elicited the admiration of the passing traveler. They have been our boast. They have encour- aged us to plant around oui- dwellings the trees on which God has conferred so many qualities of beauty and value. And when we have gone down to the grave, to lie beside him who planted them, they will still speak to our children and they will delight to make mention of him who did so much to make the place of their habitation a place of beau- ty and comfort. But these venerable trees speak to us not in lessons of taste and comfort alone. They have lessons also of a reli- gious character. They tell us that one has lived here who was not wrapped up in his own immediate comfort and gratification alone, having no care for the comfort of oth- 20 crs. They stand here rather, in storm and sunshine, in the heat of summer and amid the blasts of "winter, to tell us of one who, in laying plans for his own welfare, forgot not that of others ; and one who, while gratifying his own tastes, had an eye to the interests and enjoyment of all. Such a person must be remembered with grateful emo- tion, when he whose labor and wealth are expended upon his own gratification alone is utterly forgotten, or is re- membered only as an instance of selfishness. My friends, these trees are a substantial blessing to us all. They add beauty to our dwelling-place. They refresh us in our summer walks, after the labors of the day. They cast their grateful shade along our path, as we come to the house of God. They inspire us with happy emotions and beget, amid the rugged employments of life, a love of grace and beauty. Long may they stand, to speak of him who planted them, and remind us of his disinterested regard for the comfort and happiness of his fellow-men. And there is a voice which speaks to us from the several dwellings which he occupied, a voice which speaks of home and all its endearments, of family ties and household afiec- tions. Many of you know that it was considered, by not a few, a great mistake when Mr. Hall selected yonder hill as the site on which to erect a dwelling. Barren and bald in aspect, and unproductive in its soil, to most men it gave little promise of a proper reward to labor bestowed upon it. But what was the result ? A few years of care and intelligent culture, and the exercise of an enlightened taste, surrounded that dwelling with trees which cast their grate- ful shade upon its grounds or feasted the eye and invited the hand by their luxuriant fruits, while they secluded its in- mates from the obtrusive gaze of the public, and yet allow- ed the eye to look out upon prospects of the f\iirest beauty. It was a remark of Mr. Hall that those people who place their dwellings near the road and neglect to plant trees and 21 shrubs about tliem, arc too little aware liow, in this way, they tend to prevent in their children any attachment to their home, because that home is thereby rendered so un- attractive. A wise remark ; worthy to be engraved on silver. Home, should be the most blessed spot on earth. It should be the nursery and school of all that is lovely, all that is manly, and all that is good. God has set men in families for some higher purpose than that they may eat and drink together, even that they may glorify Him in every scene and occu- pation of social life ; glorify Him by training each other up continually to habits of thrifty intelligence and holy virtue. It is not only the policy therefore, but also the duty of every parent to make the place where his children are growing up around him, as beautiful and attractive, both within and without, as it is possible for him to make it. Books, pictures, trees, flowers, these are worth more than money hoarded up for children. Give them these and right counsels from parental lips, and when the time comes in the providence of God, for them to leave the home of their childhood, they will have the best of all capital with which to obtain a livelihood But I must not dwell on the fruitful themes which our subject suggests. There are other voices speaking to us from the dead. As the bell sounds its call to study from that edifice which looks down upon us from yonder eminence, it speaks for him whose wisdom and whose regard for the good of his fellow-men placed it there. That building, erected for the high purpose of education, is a speaking monument to him who built it. It speaks to this whole community, for by its silent daily influence it has touched the springs of thought in those who dwell here and given us a name and honor above many around us as a people of intelligence. Let us cherish that institution as the precious gift of our 22 deceased benefactor, and let it be our continual rejoicing that our children may groAV up to receive its choicest blessings. Mr. Hall like-wise contributed to the proper education of the young, by means of those school-books -which he pub- lished, and in ■v\'hich he has made a gift to the public of the ripe fruit of his o-wn scholarship and protracted experience. In them he speaks continually, ever addressing to the young lessons of practical value and sound ■\>'isdom. He speaks to us also from the very house and home of the dead. With no unreasonable attachment to the per- ishable body — -which is but the tenement of the soul, the real being — he -was so tenderly attached to his friends, that every thing -which pertained to them had a peculiar value in his estimation. His thoughts very naturally, therefore, ■would d-well -with a manifest interest upon the place of sepulture. And as his heavenly father called him from time to time to consign to the grave the bodies of -\vife and children, the place of burial gre-w more and more valuable to him year by year. Regarding the matter thus, he had a desire to see the grave-yard -wearing the look of careful attention and affectionate regard instead of being the most neglected and forsaken of all enclosures. He advocated therefore, -with earnestness the laying out of a ne-w ceme- tery -VN'hile a fit location could be made, and had a conspicu- ous part in securing the object. He speaks to us from that quiet field of mortality. He has laid his body do-wn there ■with the bodies of those -who -^-ere bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. But though dead, he yet speaketh, speak- eth not only from all the -walks of living men, but also from the resting place of the dead. Such, briefly and imperfectly noticed, are the voices ■which are sounded in our ears from the dead. He speaks to all, though the living mouth is silent forever more. To 28 lilm who tills the ground ho speaks in the new face which the cultivated earth around him wears. To the student he speaks an unmistaken language. To the man of taste, yea, the passing traveler, and to all, he speaks in yonder stately trunks and whispering leaves; To the lover of home and the charms of social life, he speaks in the neat- ness and comfort wdiich his example has thrown around all our dwellings. And to him who visits the house of God, he speaks by what he has done here, and by his absence now. Wherever we look, whithersoever we turn, though we see not our departed brother, we yet hear his well known voice, speaking in many tones and uttering itself on every side. Let us now, after having thus contemplated the life and character of Mr. Hall, in their particular manifestations, survey them as a whole, and consider the lessons which are thus afforded us. I. And the first one leads us to see lioiv much one may do in this world. Mr. Hall was always a man of feeble health. He had but just reached the age of manhood when a very severe illness, through which he barely survived, prostrated his physical strength and left him an invalid for the remainder of his days. Incapacitated thus for the sturdy toils of the husbandman, he was unable to engage, to any considerable extent, in the bodily labors upon his farm. And while this was so, his eye-sight was impaired in such a degree as to deprive him, in a measure, of the society of books or the use of the pen. The judgment of most men would decide that such a per- son could accomplish but little in the world, however pro- tracted might be his life. But how far from the truth such a judgment. A man of feeble physical mould, he was in- strumental in effecting a revolution in the agriculture of this place, so that from being proverbial for a lack of almost every 24 tiling wliicli is inviting to the cultivator of tlie soil, it liaa become distinguished for its productive beauty, Deprived in a measure of those organs which are all essential to the student, he was eminent as a man of learning, as an in- structor of others, and as the author of text-boohs which are as yet unsurpassed in value. Add to this his services to the public in the Legislature of the State, and on the bench of Justice, and his numerous services in Town, Soci- ety and Church, and you have an amount of services and labor Avhich few would dare to predict of any man. And here is a most important lesson for us all. It is in the power of each and all of us to do much if we will but do what we can. The secret of Mr. Hall's accomplish- ments is this : he did what he coidd ; he used loith dili- gence the i^ower which he had. Instead of repining at the loss of vigorous health, he went on to do what his actual health would allow him to do. Instead of bemoaning the loss of a keen vision, he used his eyes as he was able, and and when he could not bear the light of the outward world he explored the chambers of his mind and labored to dis- cover what is within man. Thus he was always busy. He was a laboring man in the truest sense. He diligently em- ployed those faculties which God permitted him to use. This is all that any one can do ; and whoever will do this will be able to do much. We wrong ourselves, and we dis- honor our Maker when we allow ourselves to be remiss in cifort because we have not a good prospect of accomplish- ing all that we desire. There is no surer way to make our lives a useless blank than to fall into such a disposition. God moreover has allotted us that work precisely which it is best in all respects for us to do, and has given us the ne- cessary powers by which to perform that work ; and we im- peach at the same time his wisdom and his goodness when we neglect to do with diligence that which he has assigned us 25 II. Again, the life of Mr. Hall, contemplated as a whole, presents a character in its principles worths/ of our emula- tion. He lived for the world. His conduct was not gov- erned by selfishness. He was not absorbed in his own comfort or reputation, to the disregard of the welfare of others. On the contrary, while doing those things and laying those plans, which were conducive to his own enjoy- ment, he was also busy in schemes for the good of his fel- low-men. If he was a man who spared no pains in endea- voring to secure those things which were conducive to his own enjoyment, he found that enjoyment in pursuits and objects which were also promotive of the enjoyment of others besides himself. He was not the man all-absorbed in his own immediate interest and that of his family, and bestowing on others only that which he could not use for selfish ends. He was not the man to amass money and turn away the api^lication of the poor, or the claims of benevolence, with what was only a mockery of all charity. The work which he accomplished, of various kinds, assures us on every hand, that he confessed the obligation and experienced the pleasure of laboring for the good of his fellow-man. He lived also to G-od. Truth, duty, the will of God, these, with him, were the arbiters of his conduct. To them he subordinated his life. Acknowledging God as his crea- tor, and as a being of infinite goodness and power, the ob- ligation of obedience was too plain to be questioned. Nor did he yield this obedience only in cases of duty expressly declared in the word of God, or recognized by the universal judgment of mankind. He did not allow himself to do whatever was not manifestly wrong, but only that which was manifestly right. And here, very often, is the grand distinction between the person who lives to God and the one who only professes to live so. It was this stern devo- tion to truth and right which at times, perhaps, gave Mr. Hall a repulsive aspect to some, or caused him to assume 4 26 an attitude of seeming opposition. It was because he did not believe in that notion of expediency, as many do. Right, with liim was right, and duty was a thing to be per- formed, no matter what interests of policy might stand in the way. If he differed from others, it was a matter of conscience ; it was because he chose to hearken to what he deemed the voice of God, and to obey that rather than the voice or the wishes of men. I have often said that I never knew a person more inflexibly devoted to truth and duty than he was. And being thus devoted, he had his reward. However he might be compelled to forego what promised to prove valuable to himself or others ; however he might be obliged to renounce a favorite scheme or a darling pro- ject, he always had the satisfaction of knowing that in so doing he had obeyed the ultimate decisions of his mind and the supreme rule of conduct. Such an example, my hearers, is worthy of our emula- tion. We can propose to ourselves nothing higher, nothing nobler, nothing more satisfactory, than to live in such a manner as to do good to our fellow-men and honor the God who made us capable of knowing and doing right. III. Again ; the life which we have been contemplating suggests the fact, that in order to leave a worthy name heJiind him one must live for worthy objects. It is not be- cause Mr. Hall was a man of extraordinary intelligence that his character warrants the public notice which we give it to-day, or the general honor in which we hold it. It is not because of any signal acts of greatness. It is not be- cause of his holding any post of special honor among his fellow men. These, any or all of them, could not render his name one of great esteem. But we count him a worthy man, because his intelligence was used for worthy objects; because what he did had a tendency to promote the comfort and welfare of others as well as his own ; because whatever station of life he occupied, he performed the duties of that 27 station with honesty and scrupulous fidelity. For this we honor him. Because of this, he has left a name which we shall not suffer to perish or be lightly esteemed. So it must be with all men. If they would be remem- bered with esteem they must live for estimable objects.' They must live to do right. They must live to do good. It is one thing to have a name of note, and quite another to have a name of worth. The very things which often give a man the one are what deprive him of the other. To live for a selfish end, such as the acquisition of great wealth, or family place, will make one's sordid habits or aspiring endeavors the conspicuous object of remark, while the sole end of such remark may be, to hold his character up to execration. The secret of a good name, and especially of a good name after death, is a good life. Owing to the various media through which we behold men while living, and ow- ing also to other causes, we sometimes assign, at first, the wrong character to a man, and he may pass for a time as one better than he really is. But this judgment is sooner or later corrected : if not during life, at least it is after death : and as goodness and usefulness are the choicest qualities, in the unbiassed judgment of all, so all concur in awarding the palm of true worth to him who has been truly good. IV. In view of our subject, I cannot but remark, Tioto easy it is to do good. The planting of a tree by the way- side is a matter of little difficulty, but it will grow up into such a manifest blessing as to make the deed remembered with grateful esteem. And so in a thousand ways we have it in our power to do good at only a slight expenses to our- selves. God has made man to do good, and for this end has made it easy for him to do good. It only needs a be- nevolent will, and a benevolent way can easily be found. 28 And what is more, our good deeds, like trees, thoiigli tliey be small at the outset, have a principle of growth in them •which causes them to expand beyond our largest expecta- tions. The good done to a fellow-man to-day, in the next generation, may be blessing a whole continent. 0, there is nothing at the same time so precious and so cheap as goodness. And now, in conclusion, a question to all, and especially to the young. I have said, and you know it to be true, that Mr. Hall was a religious man, a man of avowed and strict piety. Was his [religion then, I ask, a weakness in him, a blemish, after all, upon his character ? When he made all his gifts and endowments subject to the will of God, and laid them down at the foot of the cross, was it done ignorantly or superstitiously ? Was it the exhibition of a strong mind for once thrown out of its balance and left to act without the guidance of reason ? Nay, it was the highest exercise of reason. It was the act of one whose disciplined powers of mind were equal to almost any inves- tigation and superior to any dictation of fashion or of fear. It was the act of such a one looking out upon the expanse of creation around him, and into the Bible before him, and into the depths of the heart within him, and from such a various and comprehensive observation concluding it to be his duty to reverence and obey God, to believe the Bible, and to make it his endeavor to purify his heart from all un- righteousness. It was an act performed intelligently, soberly, deliberately. It was an act sanctioned by evi- dence and dictated by enlightened judgment. Is not that religion then deserving of your consideration and your cor- dial embrace ? Think not, in the face of such evidence, that it is a thing for the weak and the childish only. It is what commends itself to the manliest, and lays its claim upon the strongest of minds. Do not then do yourselves 29 tlie discredit of refusing to make It the ruling principle of life. This is the true good, beyond all question. Do not fail then of its immediate acquisition. Behold the exam- ple of him, -whose life is to-day the theme of our considera- tion, and as you acknowledge the disciplined strength and manly independence of his mind, make that religion youi'S which he chose as the law and solace of his life. Erratum.— On page 8, last line, it should read, — He runs throughout the compass of the earth, accumulating possessions from every portion of the globe,