LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA GIFT OF Class Memorial OF George Washington Hosmer, D.D, Edited by his Children. His face was as the Sun shining upon the temple of the Most High." " The Wisdom of Jesus, the Son of Sirach." L. 7. PRIVATELY PRINTED, 1882. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1882, by J. K. HOSMER, In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. Press of G. I. Jones cf- Company. PEEFACB. i HIS volume, consisting for the most part of selections from the letters, sermons, and lectures of the late Rev. Dr. G. W HOSMER, is privately printed for circulation among his friends. His children, by whom the work has been prepared, desire to make acknowledgment to those who have helped them in their under- taking. To Dr. EDWARD JARVIS, of Boston, Mass., our thanks, in the first place, are due ; who, besides contributing important facts, placed at our disposal a series of our father's letters extending from his college life to the month before his death. For some of the most beautiful and characteristic letters contained in the book we are indebted to our father's cousin, Mrs. L. P. CHENEY, of Con- cord, Mass. We desire also gratefully to thank the, following gentlemen for their tributes to the memory of Dr. HOSMER, delivered and pub- lished soon after his death: Rev. Dr. H. W. BELLOWS, Rev. Dr. J. H. MORISON, Rev. Dr. R. P. STEBBINS, Rev. H. H. BARBER, Rev. G. W. CUTTER, and Rev. F. B. HORNBROOKE. From several of these tributes extracts have been made, which add much to the value and interest of the book. We are indebted to the Hon. ROBERT C. PITMAN, of Newton, for an interesting communication. Rev. G. REYNOLDS and our kinsman, Rev. F. L. HOSMER, have rendered us great assistance in the distribution of the memorial among those for whom it -s ^Dtanc-.ei 1 . In tLe hope that this volume will help to keep green the memory of a good man, we give it to those who knew and levod^m^ , ? ^ \c ;< ; J. K. H. W. R. H. G. H. H. A. H. S. JANUARY 26, 1882. 216913 CONTENTS, CHAPTER I. PAGE. THE FOREFATHERS ... 1 CHAPTER II. BOYHOOD AND YOUTH 25 CHAPTER III. AT NORTHFIELD 41 CHAPTER IV. FIRST YEARS AT BUFFALO 65 CHAPTER V. AT MEADVILLE 89 CHAFIER VI. LIFE AT BUFFALO ...... 115 CHAPTER VII. DURING THE WAR . 137 CHAPTER VIII. AT ANTIOCH COLLEGE 153 CONTENTS. CHAPTER IX. PAGE. AT NEWTON , 175 CHAFIER X. LAST DAYS 191 SERMONS AND LECTURES. I. IMMORTALITY . 215 II. CHAMBERS OF IMAGERY 223 III. THE POWER OF WEAK THINGS . . . . 231 IV. CHARACTER-BUILDING 239 V. THE PATTERN IN THE MOUNT ..... 247 VI. DEEP CALLETH UNTO DEEP 255 CONTENTS. vn VII. PAGE. THE VALUE OF HARDSHIP . 265 VIII. THE PROPHECY OF SIMEON . . . . 273 IX. THE PILGRIM FATHERS 281 X. THE PARISH 293 XI. THE PULPIT 307 XII. AT THE PARSONAGE 319 XIII. ADDRESS AT THE CHURCH OF OUR FATHER 327 XIV. THE FULL LIFE 333 XV. THE LAW OF THE MEAN. AND OF THE EXTREMES 347 AT CONCORD. Dear native village, I foretell, Though for a time I say farewell, That wheresoe'er my steps shall tend, And whensoe'er my course shall end, My soul will cast the backward view, The longing look alone on you. Thus, when the sun prepared for rest Hath gained the precincts of the West, Though his departing radiance fail To illuminate the narrow vale, A lingering light he fondly throws On the dear hills where first he rose. [WORDSWORTH. CHAPTER I. THE FOREFATHERS. 1O the sons and the daughter who edit this ^memorial volume there is no better type of our father than a great protecting tree, " a shield against the heat, a buckler, too, which the storm can scarcely pierce, something musi- cal with breezy murmurs, gracious and stately and full of loving ministry. In the con- sciousness of his children the thought of our father has hung over us from infancy to maturity as such a sheltering arch, tempering to us joy and sorrow, his benignant presence affording both dew and sunshine, his heart-full, manly tones always fraught with cheer and counsel. Even the youngest of us has long left youth be- hind, while the eldest is far on in middle age ; but now that our refuge and shelter is cut down we miss the dear protection as if we were not out of our childhood, and seem to stand sadly bare to the world. The son who writes these lines stood once, a boy of ten, by the side of his father beneath the shadow of one of the great trees before the Concord homestead, built by our great-grand- : FDR&EAtfHERS. father. The boy, to whom the spreading limbs and massy foliage of a New England elm were something new, wondered why the earth trem- bled and resounded so hollow to the wheels of vehicles and the foot-beat of the passers-by, as soon as they came within compass of the branches. "As far as the boughs spread into the air above," answered our father, " so far spread the roots in the soil beneath. They have filled the whole hill with their fibres ; they run under the road and go as far as to the brook in the meadow, perhaps, in search of moisture." That the tree might stand in its rich fulness, the roots ran far and deep beneath the soil ; that the man stood so hale and jocund in physical and spiritual strength was due largely, too, to what he drew from underground from the genera- tions that had preceded him. Our father's abounding love went out not only upon his chil- dren, but felt backward, too, along the line of his ancestry. His regard for his forefathers was far removed from the genealogical extravagance of the antiquary ; it had nothing of the super- stitious veneration of the Chinese. It was wholesome gratitude and affection for the old generations to which his own fibre inseparably bound him. Intended, as this memorial volume is, only for the eyes of those who held him in esteem, a few pages may appropriately be de- voted to the story of his progenitors, inwoven as DE. HO SHEETS MEMOEIAL. it is with what is most tragic and picturesque in the development of New England from the ear- liest day. The remotest point to which a rootlet can pos- sibly be traced, is an old battle-field of the year 1016, where the Saxon King Edmund Ironside overcame Canute, the Dane. Says the mediaeval chronicler, Florence of Worcester: The Danes were on the point of yielding, when Edric Streon, a treacherous ealdorman who fought on the side of Canute, struck off the head of a man named Osmer, whose features and hair much re- sembled those of Edmund; then showing the head to the advancing Saxons, he shouted: "Flee quickly, ye men of Dorsetshire, Devon, and Wilts ; you have lost your leader. Lo, here I hold in my hands the head of your lord, Ed- mund the King ! retreat with all speed." * The English began to flee, panic-stricken. They were rallied, however, and led to final victory by the King, whose double for this time did not undo him. It is very absurd, no doubt, to try to connect a line of plain Massachusetts farmers with a worthy almost prehistoric. Let it go for what it is worth. A common spelling of our name, at * Siquidem cum pugna vehemens esset, et Anglos fortiores esse cerneret, cujnsdam viri regi Eadmundo facie capillisque siraillimi, Osmeari nomine, capite amputate et in altum levato, exclamat Anglos frustra pugnare, dicens: "Vos Dorsetenses, Domnani," etc. THE FOREFATHERS. any rate, has been that given by the old chroni- cler, and the pronunciation which the spelling- represents, with the omission of the aspirate, has been very common even where an H appears in writing. Our father showed, not only in his name but in every bodily characteristic, per- haps, too, hi his spiritual traits, that he was thoroughly Saxon; while his children, in their filial partiality, feel that he might have been easily taken for a king. The founder of our line in America was James Hosmer, who at the age of twenty-eight, in the year 1635, with a wife, two children, and two maid-servants, left Hawkhurst, in Kent, where the family had been long established, for New England. A brother, Thomas, had emigrated some years before to Cambridge, then Newtown, whence he followed Hooker to Connecticut, in which State his descendants have often had an honorable prominence. One of our number, in 1870, made a pious pilgrimage to this old English home. From the village of Etchingham, in Sus- sex, to which point the railroad brought him from London, he walked across the country among fra- grant fields where they were gathering the hop harvest, into Kent. An ivy-hung church rose into view, and he stood presently in a quaint, venerable village, which, hidden behind its hedges and beneath its mighty elms and oaks, had es- DE. HOtiMER'S MEMORIAL. caped all contact with the modern spirit. He found entertainment at the " Eight Bells," an inn whose worn threshold and battered hearth spoke of hospitality rendered to many generations of men. When the round landlady had heard the errand of the American pilgrim she gave him a hearty, homely welcome, and set before him her best. The Hosmers, however, seemed to have vanished from above and below the earth. No one knew of any living person who bore the name; in the churchyard the sexton declared it was written upon no one of the hundreds of moss-grown stones. Climbing, however, with the vicar of the parish into the muniment-room above a porch of the church, among the mildew and yellow stains of the oldest records the name appeared again and again in the list of baptisms, marriages, and deaths. The stock had once been set there among the hop-fields, but had been transplanted without leaving a shoot. An hour or two later, upon the battle-field of Hast- ings, close by, the pilgrim pleased himself with fancying that, as the osiers in the brook, which on the battle-day ran red, came, perhaps, from slips that were woven into Harold's simple en- trenchment, so he himself might be derived from some one of the ceorls of Kent who fought that day about the Saxon standard. THE FOBEFATHEES. Out of the heart of Saxon England, therefore, came the progenitor, a simple peasant, whom the puritanism with which the air was rife had touched, and who, in those days when the civil war was impending darkly, shipped with his house- hold goods in the "Elizabeth" from London, and made the desolate voyage. Almost at once he went into the wilderness among the founders of Concord, making his home, after a few years, in the extreme outskirts of the settlement, at the foot of a hill from which meadows stretched far toward the west probably the outmost frontiersman of the Massachusetts colony. It is close upon two hundred and fifty years since the first Hosmer thus planted himself. His farm has never passed out of the name, a descendant in the eighth generation still looking westward over the same fair meadow prospect. Our father loved to stand in the dent in the hill- side, the old cellar-hole not yet quite obliterated, and de- light his eyes with the green acres whose virgin strength the stout arm of his ancestor had first subdued to the plough. It was a pleasant out- look for any one. " I must walk to Abel Hos- mer' s to see the sunset," Thoreau used to say, a broad extent of bright intervale threaded by the silver river, spoiled, alas ! now for the eye by the gloomy walls of the State prison that rise in the fields of the farther shore. DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. As we follow down the generations we are presently confronted with the saddest tragedy. At the outbreak of Philip's War the representa- tive of the line was James, son of the emigrant, whose wife was Sarah White of Lancaster, one of several daughters, the family of a settler of wealth and consequence. One day at the end of the winter of 1675, fearful news came to our far- away grandmother : Lancaster had been burned by the Indians ; in the attack one sister had been shot, two others taken captive, while of their children some were slain and some at the mercy of the savages. One of the sisters was Mrs. Rowlandson, wife of the minister, who had been last seen, wounded, carrying in her arms little Sarah, six years old, the namesake of our ances- tress, also wounded, dragged into the woods as the prize of a Narragansett. In the desperate pass to which the colony was brought there was need of resolute spirits. A pressing call for succor came from a beleaguered post. Our ancestor marched with his townsmen, and soon after received in his brain the bullet of an Indian marksman at the disastrous fight in Sudbury. He was slain while swimming the river in the rout that followed the main encoun- ter. It was a heavy time for that old grand- mother of ours. There is a well-sustained tra- dition that Goodwife Hosmer was a woman of THE FOREFATHERS. force and resolution. She could handle a gun and manage a boat on the river, and well knew how to provide game and fish. The frontiers- man's widow had need of all her strength. She was left with six children, the eldest, still an- other James Hosmer, a boy of sixteen. How, precisely, she kept the wolf from the door we do not know, but what the talk was about the hearth when at last the fierce Philip was beaten down is well ascertained. Her sister Eowlandson, returned from captiv- ity, came to Concord. She wrote a narrative which made her one of the most famous women of the time in the colony, and is perhaps the most affecting and interesting document that has come down to us from that day. At the time of her capture an Indian's bullet had wounded her and the child in her arms. Over the snow, through the gloom of the February night, she staggered, harshly driven by her captors, still clasping her little wounded girl, who moaned in her pain, "I shall die, I shall die." Death at length relieved it, the mother cherishing the body in a bare wigwam through a cold, lonesome night, leaving it at last in a shallow grave on a bleak hill- side in what is now New Braintree. Fainting sometimes in the dark forest, fording cold streams, beaten and starved, she faced her fate companionless. Our ancient kinswoman was DE. HOSMSB'8 MEMORIAL. sold at length to a sagamore whose wife was sister to the wife of Philip, and henceforth, for much of the time, was in close connection with Philip himself. It seems probable, indeed, that no one of the English settlers came into such close connection with the great chief. That he was in any way a patriot, fighting to protect the birthright acres of his people from encroachment, was not the view of the colonists, and one regrets, as he reads Mary Rowlandson's meagre mention, that she did not sketch more distinctly, as she might so easily have done, the bearing and traits of one whom we are inclined to regard as an heroic forest monarch. In spite of the captive's repugnance to Philip and his followers, she gives pathetic testimony to the intensity of the Indian struggle, the drooping of the spirit when at last hope fails ; and though the Puritan woman has no cordial recognition for it, the conduct of her cap- tors toward her is not without traces of mag- nanimity. One can easily fancy what the talk was in the cabin of our widowed ancestress there upon the westward looking hill-side. The little lonely grave of her niece and namesake, buried by Philip's men upon the desolate hill in New Brain- tree, her husband's life-blood washed down upon the stream that flowed past the home, the sisters and their children slain or captive, the figures of 10 THE FOREFATHERS. the "Wampanoag chieftain and his followers elabo- rated into a thousand startling details verily, these were fearful pictures ! In the bitter waters that generation of our line was dipped to the lips! Sons succeed sires as we pass into and down the eighteenth century. Our father's great- grandmother was a sturdy matron, from whom one fancies his own massive shoulders may have been inherited. She tended the mill that was part of the property, carried the grist back and forth in the great sacks, and was able at the same time to entertain the waiting customers with scraps of poetry and stories from history. In a humble way our stock has been a military one ; every foe that has threatened New England has been confronted by soldiers of our name, generally of the rank and file. When Philip and the Indians had been swept away, the French attacked. Our father's maternal great- grandfather, and, on the other side, the brother of the miller's stout wife, commanded companies in the old French war, marching with their pro- vincials through blazed paths of the woods to the remote border-land to oppose Montcalm. But a more critical struggle was beginning. The en- croachments of England had become oppressive. DM. HOSMER'JS MEMORIAL . 11 The men of our line whose fate it was to encoun- ter these dangers deserve here a closer look, both because they were men of force, and because their influence was an important factor in mould- ing the character of our father. These men in their old age he well remembered and loved ; from them, indeed, he caught the impulse which urged him forward in honorable ways. Here let us give his own words. Of his grandfather Joseph he has written : He was the most distinguished person of the fifth gen- eration, or indeed, we may say of all the Massachusetts Hosmers. He was born in 1735, in a house that stood a little west of the south branch of Concord River. Joseph had such opportunities as the children of Concord had in his day ; he lived within a mile of the grammar school in the centre of the town, and after the years of childhood went to school in the winters, three or four months in each year, until he was seventeen or eighteen years of age. I have no tradi- tions of his school-days. I suspect that school-teaching did less for him than the influence of his mother at home. She would make him look out from that old fire-place, which I so well remember (though not until after she was gone), to the great world of which her active mind caught glimpses.* Joseph helped his father on the farm in earlier years, but with a wise thrift, he connected with farm-work, in a small way, cabinet manufacture, and had his shop close by his father's house. He seems to have been successful, for in 1761, when he was twenty-six years old, he built the house in which Cyrus Hosmer now lives, a very good house for the time, and soon after this he married Lucy Barnes, of Marl- * She was the stout wife of the miller, just now alluded to. 12 THE FOREFATHERS. boro, Massachusetts. They began life together in the new house, and for fifteen years he went on with his double occu- pation of farming and making furniture. There was an altar in the house for the daily offering of worship and praise. As the times began to be full of great interests and im- portant questions, about 1773, Joseph Hosmer, then thirty- eight years of age, appeared among the prominent men of the town. He had nothing from superior education, or from his family parentage or occupation, to lift him into notice ; he rose by force of good sense, sound character, and mental energy. He became an earnest ' ' son of liberty, ' ' and we find his name in those years, among the outspoken advocates of resistance to English domination. We hear of his making a telling speech in a meeting in Concord, one evening, when a British spy was present. The latter was astonished at his eloquent words, that showed that he and those like him would fight for their principles and die for them, if need be. Then in action as well as word he stood forward. He was lieutenant of a company of minute-men, and a member of the " Committee of Safety." The 19th of April, 1775, long before daylight, he received the alarm that British troops were on their way from Boston, and he hastened to the village. Col. James Barrett, my mother's grandfather, an old man and quite infirm, was the officer in command by a recent appointment, and without his consent ; and in this emergency he detailed Joseph Hosmer, the acting captain of the company of minute-men, to assist him that day ; and so we hear of him f orming and address- ing the men just before the attack at the bridge. As aid to Colonel Barrett, he asked Maj or Buttrick and Col. Robinson, of Westford, to lead the column, and did much to keep the men firm as they marched down to receive the British volleys. He and his brother Benjamin went to Cambridge that day in the pursuit. One word about Abner Hosmer, my grandfather's cousin, DR. HOSMER'ti MEMORIAL. 13 who was killed that day at Concord bridge. It was young Abner's freedom year. He appears that morning prompt and doubly ready ; he has his powder-horn and gun, and he is drummer, too. As the minute-men descend the hill and move along the causeway, he hears his cousin Joseph's clear voice encouraging the wavering column; then, hark! the beat of his drum measuring the steps of heroes until the nimble hands are still in death ! Brave cousin ; your short life, crowned with a patriot's death, was better than three- score and ten ordinary years ! In the bronze statue on the battle-ground I behold you lifted up in honor ! Meantime my grandmother, alone at home, waited hour after hour for news. In the house were some of the public stores which the British troops were sent to destroy. Tra- dition says that one room was full of medical and surgical goods, and that there were elsewhere ammunition and can- non-balls. At length our grandmother, on her knees at a window looking toward the town, whence she had seen the smoke ascending as the British began their destruction, be- held the scarlet coats of a strong detachment, from whose bayonets, as they descended the slope toward the river close by, the morning sun was thrown back in a brilliant flash. They crossed the stream ; the lonely watcher descended to the lower part of the house, and presently the heavy tramp of the party became audible as they drew up in front. Against the bolted door came a harsh knocking from the butts of muskets ; it was unfastened, and the invaders streamed into the house. u Where is your husband, good woman?" said the officer in command. " In the village, fighting the enemies of his country. ' ' Tradition has handed down those words as our grandmother's reply. The soldiers, nevertheless, showed no rudeness. Her heart rose in her throat when they tried at length the door of the room which was filled with government stores. Supposing that women had locked themselves in for safety, the officer forbade the door to 2 14 THE FOREFATHERS. be forced. The red-coats swarmed everywhere. The silver and valuables had been tied to the well-rope and sunk in the well ; a soldier seized the rope and moved it back and forth, but did not try to raise it. Our grandmother brought pans of milk up from the cellar, with which the troops filled their canteens. At length they departed, having found nothing suspicious, with some magnanimity, one must confess, overlooking the patriotic outburst of the housewife. Return- ing to the bridge, they tore presently the planks from the beams and threw them into the river, falling back afterwards upon the town, whence began soon after the memorable retreat. My father, a boy of seven years, sat on the bank near the house, and gazed at the red-coated men from over the sea. My mother, a child of five years, looked out with wonder and fear upon the soldiers and what they did at her grandfather's, Col. James Barrett's, where they searched the whole house, and burned gun-carriages in the field close by. The guns had been buried that morning in the barn-yard, and straw spread over the ground. Especially she remembered how an officer rode about the grounds, his horse leaping the fences. From this time onward for thirty-five years, Joseph Hos- mer, in his time called Major Hosmer, held public offices and trusts which occupied the most of his time. During the war he was actively engaged in the Commissary Department. After the formation of the new government, he was for many years in the lower and upper houses of the State Legislature, and was long chairman of the Committee of Ways and Means. For some twelve years my grandfather's name appears in the records of House and Senate ; no name in those years is brighter, or stands in more honorable connection with sub- jects of legislation. In a speech in the State-House he once made himself obnoxious to John Hancock, the presiding officer, who commanded him to sit down. His reply has been preserved: "Did I stand here in my own behalf, I Dfi. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 15 could not too soon obey you ; but I was sent here to speak on a subject which lies very near to the hearts of the people of Middlesex, and, God willing, I shall not set my face toward Concord till I have had my say." The last public station which he filled was that of high sheriff of Middlesex ; this position he held for fourteen years when it was accounted more honorable than at present. I was born in the same house in which my grandfather lived, and -my childhood and youth were parallel with his old age. He was sixty-six years old at my birth, and retired from public service in my early childhood. My first jacket and trousers were made out of his sheriff's red coat. He was a gentle, wise old man, and with me to take steps for him, he loved to make experiments about the farm. He and I tested the effects of plaster of Paris on the land, tried to drain a wet meadow, planted rare seeds, and looked after the garden and fruit trees. Here are some reminiscences preserved by our father's cousin, Miss Josephine Hosmer : He was kind-hearted, and generous to a fault. His sense of justice was offended by the sternness of the laws as they stood when he was high sheriff. When his deputies took away a man's goods for debt, it was sometimes the case that he would ride along the day after in his ruffled shirt and knee-breeches, a pleasant light in his fine brown eyes, and place in the hands^ of the wife or mother, a handsome gift. "It is a hard law," he would say, " but the laws must be obeyed. Here is a little for your present necessity." One of his grandsons was told once in Waltham, that his grand- father, the day before, had given a poor family twenty silver dollars. Returning to Concord he asked his grandfather if it were true. ' ' Tut, tut ! ' ' said the old man ; ' ' these things had better not be spoken of." In his position, it became once his duty to hang a man. 16 THE FOBEFATEEES. The name of the criminal was Smith. By the harsh old Eng- lish law then in vogue, he was condemned to die for stealing a watch. The old sheriff suffered intensely as the day for the execution approached, and so did his household ; when his wife saw the rope which was to hang the poor man come into the house, she wrung her hands and burst into tears. It had been her duty to make the shroud in which the crim- inal was to suffer, and the long white cap which was to be drawn over his head. [Our father could remember peeping, as a little child, through the crack of the just opened door into the lonely, empty room where these ghastly objects hung over a chair, waiting to be put to use, and receiving a shock which even in age he could scarcely recall without a thrill.] All the night, before the morning of the execution, the Major walked the room. On the way to the gallows the poor culprit begged heart-rendingly for his life from first to last. When the time came to let fall the drop, the sher- iff's heart fairly sank and he turned the duty over to a deputy. It was the first duty he was ever known to shirk. He returned home from the hanging sad and dispirited, and a deep gloom fell upon the whole house. For days after they spoke scarcely above a whisper. Said his son Rufus : "No family sorrow, no domestic grief ever affected my father like the hanging of Smith. He seemed to us all like one set apart by sorrow." Major Hosmer was of medium height, with dark eyes ; his light brown hair, which never turned gray, he wore brushed back and curling in his neck. On either side of the old chimney the pipe-holes are to be seen where he and his wife kept the pipes which they peacefully smoked to- gether. Two fine portraits of him, taken from life, still exist, the only portraits extant of a man who took part in Concord fight. DR. HOMMER'S MEMORIAL. 17 Wrote our father: ' ' Kindly, good old man ! I loved him dearly and I sup- pose he loved me. In his will he gave me all he could afford ; he was not rich, and his deputies while he was sheriff, taking advantage of his easy generosity, threw embarrass- ments about him ; but his gift helped to pay my college expenses. With grateful reverence I honor his name." Our father continues : My great- aunt Dinah and my great-uncle Benjamin, her brother, after the death of his young wife, by small-pox, lived in the old house of their father, close by the house of my grand- father and my father, Cyrus ; so that my early days were passed in intimate relations with these old personages, and through them I reach back a hundred years. ' 'Aunt Dinah, ' ' like her mother, the miller's wife, was an interesting character. She had never been married, was eccentric, cared little for the fashions, dressed as her grandmother did, read the Bible through and through, with Caryl's Commentary, was very rich in the lore of tradition, and had an inexhaustible inter- est for me in her stories of ghosts and supernatural appa- ritions. The whole country round, to me, is still haunted with her stories. At one place was seen a man without a head ; in another, a black-eyed girl shaking a money-purse ; in another was heard a voice in the air, high overhead, call- ing a man by name, and he died soon after ; in another place was seen a lady, splendidly mounted upon a horse, which leaped upon the tops of the forest-trees. When a child I would sit for hours and listen to her stories, until in the darkness of evening I dared not run the five or six rods from her great old chimney-corner to our own door; and she was kind and would come to her door, and stand until I shouted I was safe. I think she had outgrown these 18 THE FOREFATHERS. superstitions, but she told them as if she believed and saw them as realities. With education and society she would have been a superior woman, with a gracious dignity and more than common power. "Aunt Dinah," on the 19th of April, 1775, helped Cato Lee, once the slave of Dr. Lee, to draw the planks of the Old South bridge out of the river, into which they were cast by the British soldiers on the morning of that day. The noble woman and good old negro laid the planks upon the bridge, and so opened the way for hastening minute-men to pursue the retreating invaders. u Uncle Ben" was an odd man, brusque and rough. Dinah's stories were nonsense to him, but he had some queer kinks of his own. He wore the old fashions, walked in the old ways, could not see over the high walls of his prejudices, and flung the strong words of his scorn, contempt, and ridi- cule at those of belief or party opposite to his. Jefferson was a demon to his Federalist eye. The Trinitarians built a church in Concord, and had a bell upon it, the very tone of which he hated. As an old man he was punctual in going to bed at nine o'clock when the Unitarian bell rang. One night he was seen retiring somewhat earlier. Some one said : ' ' Why go to bed so early, ' Uncle Ben ' ? " He answered from the bolster that the bell had rung for nine o'clock. " Oh no ; it was the bell of the other church, for evening meeting." He was infirm and rheumatic, but he would rise and be dressed, grumbling, " Do you suppose I'm going to bed by that con- demned old bell ? ' ' But ' ' Uncle Ben ' ' was honest, and his heart was very tender, like the chestnut in its thorny burr. He loved children, and we all loved him and were often cradled in his arms. He did good service at Concord fight, at which, according to the grewsome tradition, he shot three men. Late that night ? at Porter's tavern in Nortli Cambridge, he sat nursing his captain, who was badly wounded by a British ball. A young surgeon, full of life DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. and fire, appeared out of the darkness with lint and bandage. The doctor and the Concord farmer bound up together the maimed limb. It was General Warren, warm with the en- thusiasm that was to carry him in the early summer to the redoubt on Bunker Hill. When Washington took command at Cambridge, "Uncle Ben" commanded a company in the army besieging Boston. While waiting for the General to appear, seeing spots of rust on his sword, the rustic soldier employed his time by scouring his weapon, thrusting it into a sandbank. While thus engaged, seeing that the company became careless and lost their alignment, he cried out, with the nasal twang of an unmitigated Yankee, to his subordi- nate : * ' Ensign Joe Darby, straighten out them thar men ; they're crookeder ' n an old ram' s horn. ' ' He saw service else- where also in the fields of the Revolution. His oddities were only the knots and thorns of a tree that grew in sturdy strength, and filled its place in the landscape of the times. My grandfather had two sons, Cyrus and Rufus, and two daughters. Cyrus, my father, married Patty Barrett, grand- daughter of the veteran of the old French war, who in his old age found thrust upon him the command of the minute-men at Concord bridge. My father died young. Rufus, the younger son, was a marked man in his generation. He graduated at Harvard College in 1800, a classmate of Buck- minster, the eloquent minister in Boston, and of Washington Allston, the great artist. He studied law in Concord, and practised his profession in Stow, about six miles from his father's house. He had no towering ambition ; was content to be respectable in his profession, and in the best sense suc- cessful, having the unlimited confidence and love of the com- munity in which he lived. He was most genial and compan- ionable, brilliant and picturesque in conversation, with ready dramatic talent to put his thoughts in interesting lights. His father, the old Major, was lethargic in his latter years ; and my uncle, who was also my guardian after the death of my 20 THE FOREFATHERS. father, came often to arouse the old man. I remember his coming soon after the battle of Waterloo. A friend of his had seen a British officer who had been in the fight, and had told of the most thrilling encounters. My uncle acted out the battle so that I seem to myself to have been a witness of it. Especially do I remember how he described the charge of the Scotch Grays. He was man and horse ; the charge was there in grandmother's sitting-room, and then the coming of Blucher, and the awful rout and carnage. His life was beautiful, virtuous, benevolent. The home &t Stow was very pleasant. In my childhood, a visit to Stow was a great event. My uncle made life about him dramatic and poetic. " What tree is that in the garden? " said I to my uncle. With the funniest look, and his finger on his lips, he whispered : " Don't speak loud ; that tree has been brought from Nova Scotia and don't know it." He took a fatherty interest in me. He divided his time between law and agriculture. He was president of the Agricultural Society of Middlesex, and once gave the annual address. In the last years of his life he was member of the council of Edward Everett, when Governor of Massachusetts. He was sought in society, and was the life of many a company. At sixty-one he succumbed to an apoplectic attack, and died in Boston, April, 1839. From this ancestry our father sprung, the later generations forming the boy who came in the first years of the nineteenth century. to continue the name. Relics are still extant which give us glimpses of the life of those ancient fathers and mothers. The little lead sun-dial, upon whose nicked and dinted face were marked the hours when the Hawkhurst emigrant was tossing on the seas, DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 21 when the good wife was waiting for the fron- tiersman to come in from the clearing, or the soldier's widow sat spinning, in the desolate years that followed the fierce Sudbury fight, is now the paper-weight, which keeps these sheets, as they are written, from becoming the prey of the wind. It has the date, 1626. Its dull and tarnished disc has caught no gilding from the sunshine of two hundred and fifty years, but the Roman numerals still stand out sturdily distinct, and the central pointer throws a well-defined shadow athwart. The pebbles, worn with hand- ling, once the weights by means of which were measured out the butter and the flour, the meat and the bread, the substance that was to enter into and form the bone, sinew, and marrow of our stock, these have descended, and the home- spun bag in which they were kept, woven in the household loom from flax grown in the Hosmer fields. These belongings of plain, frugal farm- ers, and a tradition now and then caught from some garrulous old aunt, as she sat by the crane in the wide chimney-corner smoking her pipe, who remembered what she had heard in child- hood, help us to a trait now and then of the far- away life. The men of our race have seldom been con- spicuous. Following humble callings farm- ers, millers, clothiers, cabinet-makers ; appearing 22 THE FOKEFATHEBS. sometimes in the more public life of parish and town, as deacons, surveyors, and selectmen, fastened to the world with some form or other of home-spun harness, each in his day and gen- eration seems to have tugged steadily forward. With little faculty for being leaders apparently, they have nevertheless done well as wheel-horses, pulling usefully and unambitiously at burdens, private and public. At length, from the western outskirt of Concord an ancestor moved to the Fair Haven neighborhood, leaving the primitive homestead to a cousin of the Hosmer name. A later shift carried the family to still another farm. The three homesteads are all, however, in the south-west part of Concord, and lie within a circle a mile and a half in diameter. There was no distant emigration, our father, in the seventh generation being almost the first to seek a home in a remote region ; and he came back to Con- cord for a grave. This permanence of the Hosmers has had famous and beautiful commemoration. Emer- son, selecting six of the old Concord names belonging to his neighbors and friends, writes in " Hamatreya :" Minott, Lee, Willard, Hosmer, Meriam, Flint, Possessed the land which rendered to their toil Hay, corn, roots, hemp, flax, apples, wool, and wood. Each of these landlords walked amid his farm, Saying: " 'Tis mine, my children's, and my name's; DR. HOSMER ^S MEMORIAL. 23 How graceful climb those shadows on ray hill! . I fancy these pure waters and the flags Know me, as does my dog; we sympathize: And I affirm my actions smack of the soil." The poet goes on, indeed, to show that this possession is only fancied and transitory : For strangers, fond as they, their furrows plough. It has not been so at least in the case of our father's line. The bosom of the field which the Hawkhurst emigrant two hundred and fifty years ago first laid open to the seed, is still fur- rowed by a Hosmer share. Even those of us who have wandered, still feel that we are here at home ; the west wind sounds sweet in our trees ; ' ' how graceful climb those shadows on our hill ! ' :i we fancy these pure waters and the flags know us too. ^oble guests these Hosmer uplands and mead- ows have entertained. Thoreau has haunted them at morn and eve, piercing with his quick- ened sense to the fine occult essence in grass- blade and snow-flake, in dew-drop, and pine cone and icicle. Here Hawthorne has lain by the hour, stretched at length, some " moss of the old manse" becoming soaked with strange fan- tastic beauty, as from the brain, so secret and set apart, welled slowly the weird imaginings. Here, too, has stood Emerson, and when the oxen strong have brought home the increase, 24 THE FOREFATHERS. harvested a second spiritual crop, to be gathered in a song, his sharp glance reaping the landscape scythe- like.* These have had full welcome, with other dreamers of smaller significance ; though it must be owned it is trying to the patience of a plain farmer when his woods burn up, though catching from the camp-fire of a great poet ; or when the cows are let out into the corn or the melon-patch, though at the same time free range is given to dreams that are to be written down into a literary masterpiece. Shall we take the clinging fixedness of the Hosmers as showing want of enterprise, or can the explanation once offered by our father be accepted? " Such steadiness and permanence indicate character and worth. Vice breaks and scatters. I never heard of a Hosmer being con- victed of a crime." * One harvest from thy field Homeward brought the oxen strong; A second crop thine acres yield, Which I gather in a song." [The Apology. CHAPTER II. BOYHOOD AND YOUTH. father, in the last year of his life, wrote sketch of his childhood and youth for his grandchildren, which is given here with little change : My grandfather, Joseph Hosmer, about the time of his marriage in 1761, built a large double house near the house of his father, and about a mile west of the meeting-house of Concord, near the river. When my father married, some thirty years after, he made an addition to his father's house, and father and son lived under the same roof -tree ; in this large house I was born, November 27, 1803 ; here was the home of my childhood and youth, and very dear tome it has always been. It is much changed now ; the Fitchburg and Boston Railroad passes through the grounds back of the house. But- still when I go there, the elms set out by my grandfather, which shade the front, the little brook I used to play with, the river in which I caught fish, and which sometimes became very grand in a freshet, and the Fair Haven and Lee's Hills, seem to recognize me and bid me welcome. It was a dear old home, very large and full. There were my father and mother, two sisters, Martha and Rebecca, older than I, and two, Melicent and Eliza, younger, and one brother, Cyrus, seven years older than I. There were also my grandfather and grandmother, in their part of the house, and " Uncle Ben " and "Aunt Dinah," who lived in the house built by my great-grandfather, close by our house. We 3 26 BOYHOOD AND YOUTH. all were as one family, twelve of us, and a little brother who passed away just before I was born, and whose name was given to me, was also one of us, and none was more tenderly thought of. It was a home rich in suggestion and resource, though we had but few books or papers, and as I look back to it from to-day, it seems as if very little was done for us children. A bleak and bare home it might appear, compared with homes filled with books for children, and pictured illustrations of the world and life. But we had the world and life right there with us, quiet as was our house by the meadow ; we saw, we heard, we touched the on-goings of things. My brother Cyrus was one of the best scholars in our town school, and when I was a child, I began to see in him the struggle and joy of generous emulation. My sister Martha, nine years older than I, was thoughtful, serious, devout, and passed away in the bloom of twenty. She went to the communion of the Lord's Supper with mother, and by her spirituality opened gates of life beyond death that never since have been shut ; and that little brother, who gave his place to me and went up into immortality, has helped make the unseen life real and familiar to me. We there in that farmer's home got along without wonder-books from Hawthorne or others, for our "Aunt Dinah" herself was a wonder-book to us; from her I heard of Acadia before Longfellow's "Evangeline," of the Spanish Armada' and Queen Elizabeth, and all about the Indian and French wars : she told of these as well as of signs and wonders, haunted houses, enchanted districts. Cer- tainly I enjoyed her stories and their simple romance, so helping the imagination to make our rather naked life inter- esting. Then we got the history of our times from our grand- father and his brother, "Uncle Ben." Grandfather in the evening of his days loved to have me with him in his little plans to improve the farm, a genial old man, who talked to DB. HOSMEE'S MEMORIAL. 27 me in the days when in my red jacket and trousers, made out of his sheriff's coat, I ran at his side. A little later, 'when their eyes could not so readily read the " Columbian Cen- tinel," I was reader for him and "Uncle Ben." I remember well making out to them, when I was nine years old, the account of Hull's surrender at Detroit; and they, being Federalists, rejoiced that Madison would be obliged, as they thought, to make peace with England. So I got hold of life, some history, and some philosophy. Then for the economies we had a hard school in the old home. Grandfather was embarrassed through fault of his subordinates ; my father in ill-health failed to meet the exigencjr, so my mother had to bear the burden of holding the estate and keeping up the family. We all must help ; we all knew how sharp and stern the conditions of living might be. My mother was strong and capable ; the home was like a bee-hive for industry in every profitable way. My brother Cj^rus, as soon as he became a youth, all too soon, was put forward in labor and business, so that his health suffered and I have no doubt his life was shortened. But he enabled my mother to meet the emergency; the family was carried through the strait. The aged ones went the way of their fathers, and we younger ones were brought up in strict habits of industry and economy, and with tolerable educa- tional preparation for life. It was a goodly home, and we have reason to look back to it with gratitude. My mother gave herself for us all her loving heart, large executive ability, and unwearied beneficence. She lived to do her work well and nobly, and her children and grandchildren have risen up and called her blessed. Affectionate she was, largely useful, faithful, and religious. I have alwaj r s been grateful that my early home was in the midst of agricultural life, in the out-door world, in the fresh air, close to nature, telling time by the sun, wiser than all the almanacs about the weather, enjoying the winter's storm of AtiD YOUTH. snow, with breaking out the roads, acquainted with all the poor relations, the dumb creatures in the barn, in the woods, in the air and water, brought into close observation of the Great Providence who opens his hand liberally and all his creatures are filled with good. The farmer's home may lack the alertness and grace of city life, but it keeps clear of the sharp calculation and cutting competition of the commercial spirit. The life of trade makes cunning and adroitness, and gives facility ; but farm life looks to more productiveness. Man wrestles with nature, not with his fellow-man, to get more and do better. The farmer's life is thought* to lack exercise and incentive to enterprise and growth of character. No doubt there is sluggishness in many a country home, but it is not necessary. As I look back I can see how, in that quiet farmer's household, the corner-stones of character were laid in place, and as well laid as they could have been any- where. My father and grandfather had two small farms within a mile and a half of home, wood lots and pastures more dis- tant, two pastures thirty and forty miles off, and besides, some wild land in Maine. To carry on such scattered estate gave variety of interests journeys to Maine, visits to the pasture, driving cattle and sheep, and carrying various prod- ucts to market. In such affairs I learned to use my facul- ties, to take responsibilities upon my young shoulders, and bear burdens. From ten to sixteen I went to school about four months in the year, and was at work eight months. And it was hard work no eight or ten hour limits in those days, but all the time, from morning until dusk, nearer fifteen hours in summer than ten. I often went off upon distant expedi- tions. I knew Boston when it was a little city of thirty thousand people, riding down in the night on top of the load of farm-produce, potatoes, eggs, butter passing Harvard College in the dimness of the early morning, the great silent DR. HO SHEETS MEMORIAL. 29 buildings, which I was afterwards to know so well, staring blankly in the fading moonlight at the sleepy fanner's boy. In the war with England, 1812 to 1815, when I was ten or eleven years old, my brother Cyrus, as one of the Light Infantry of Concord, was ordered by the Governor of the State to the defence of Boston. The great camp of the troops of Massachusetts was on Dorchester Heights, now South Boston. Twice I went to see my brother, the first time with ' ' Uncle Ben. ' ' We reached the camp in the f ore3 noon, when the troops were in full dress parade. The long line was not far from what is now the Broadway of South Boston, then an open stretch of green sward, gently ascend- ing to the eastward toward the heights. It was a splendid, imposing show, all the uniformed companies of the State. It meant war. The war-ships of England were in Massachu- setts Bay, and nearly every day might be seen cruising in sight. Any hour they might appear coming up the harbor, and those heights were all ready to wait upon England with just such compliments as they presented to General Gage and his flying army not quite forty years before. ' ' Uncle Ben ' ' and I came upon the brilliant array of troops as they stood in line. We passed along in front, looking for the Concord Light Infantry. "Uncle Ben's" Revolutionary spirit was set on fire. He stopped, and looking toward the line, cried out in a very loud voice, patriotically rich in nasal twang : ' ' Waal, boys, ef the enemy do come, and you fight them as much better than we did in '76 as you look better, them condemned British '11 be sorry they came!" For a minute the dignity of discipline was upset ; there was a roar all along the front ; but the uncouth old veteran and the little boy, who was shuddering at his boldness, were not put under guard, and were glad enough when they found their young soldier. At twelve or thirteen years of age I was sent to drive a flock of sheep, some thirty in number, to a pasture thirty-six 30 BOYHOOD AND YOUTH. miles distant. It was in the early spring. I started in the afternoon and was to spend the night at my uncle's, in Stow, six miles distant, and to make the rest of the journey the next day. The first stage of my journey I went rejoicing, and at Stow I was not a little lifted up by the praise which my smartness received from my uncle and aunt. Next morning I set forth early with high courage and abounding hope, my flock and I ; but the flock were not in condition to travel far, and by the middle of the forenoon one sheep was tired out. I tried all ways to get her along ; at last I held her up and tried to push her, but it was all in vain ; the poor sheep lay down and gave up. What was to be done ? My instructions did not provide for a tired sheep. I could not stay there, and I could not leave the poor sheep. I remem- ber now just how she looked, panting, exhausted. As I stood over her a young man came by, and I asked him if anybody near kept sheep. He pointed me to a house not far off, to which I went with all the manhood I could muster, rapping at the door. " Come in," was the response ; and I went in, finding a mother and several daughters. I tried to tell them what I wanted, without crying, which I hardly suc- ceeded in doing. They were kind, however, and soon the father of the family appeared. He, too, saw my trouble and gave me sympathy. " Yes, he kept sheep, and he could take my tired ewe right into his flock, and he knew my father, and it could all be made right. " Sol left the tired sheep with General Gardner, of Bolton. His family I after- ward knew, and those girls who saw the sheep- boy in his trouble, afterwards had many a merry laugh at my expense. Then with my flock I hastened on my journey. Five miles onward, however, two more sheep gave out and could go no further that day. But I had solved the problem, and knew now what to do ; I left these as I had done the other, this time with a flock in Sterling, and again I hurried on. As the day passed, the entire flock grew weary, and darkness came DR. HO SHEETS MEMORIAL. 31 when I was still four miles from the pasture. I could not reach it that night ; so close by Wachusett, where now is a large and grand summer hotel, in a little country tavern I spent that night, with scarcely money enough to pay for me and my flock, so forlorn and weary, and not a little home- sick. It had been a hard day. Next morning my flock and I were rested and our journey was completed. The day after, as I returned home, looking for my tired sheep on the way, those three sheep had five lambs to show me as vindi- cation of themselves for the trouble they had given me. Again, to show the resources of the farmer's life to make men out of boys, not long after the incident mentioned, per- haps in the August of the same year, I was sent to take six calves to our pasture in Marlboro, twenty miles distant. I was to take a yoke of oxen and wagon to the pasture, and then take another yoke of oxen which had been enjoying a little va- cation, and the man who took care of the pasture was to load my wagon with chestnut rails ; then I was to drive the team home, which I was to reach at dark or soon after. Early in the morning the six calves were tied in the wagon body, each with a rope about his neck and facing outward. I can see them now, my calves. I knew them, not like a book, but a great deal better than I knew books then. They did not much like their confinement, and tried hard to break jail ; but their ropes were obdurate, and I gave the order to move for- ward on my day's enterprise. The weather was extremely hot, and my team and my living load suffered greatly, not to speak of the driver. At length, in passing through a wood, one of the calves, determined to enjoy the shade, jumped out of the hot wagon, broke his rope in falling, and away he ran with the driver after him, and a great run they had of it. At length the calf was caught ; but I could not lift him into the wagon. There was neither house nor person near, so I led him beside my team for a mile, till I came to a house. With my calf in hand I rapped at the door. A yminjr BOYHOOD AND YOUTH. woman came, and I explained my case : I wanted a man to help me lift my calf into the wagon. " O," she said, " I can help you do that. ' ' So she seized one end of the calf and I the other, and the thing was done, and the calf this time securely tied. That young woman, I hope, has been a help- meet to some worthy man. Again we went forward under the forenoon sun, until the road passed White Pond, close to the water, which was quite deep, as I had been told, near the shore. The oxen longed to cool themselves in the water and went off upon the run wagon, calves, all. I saw the peril, my whole expedition, like Pharaoh, buried in the waters, and ran with all my might to get before the beasts. They reached the water, however, into which they plunged without slackening their pace, and I rushed in, the water rising to my arms before I stopped them. At last they yielded to my authority, and I guided them out of the pond, the calves greatly excited by their new experience. I reached the pasture about noon, and sought the man to whom I was consigned. He saw to loading my wagon with the rails, but the day was so exceedingly hot that he would not consent to my starting for home until sun-down. At that time, with my two yoke of oxen, I set off to drive twelve miles in the night, in an unfrequented way. During the night, being very thirsty, I came to a farm, the well of which was covered with a small house, containing a bucket and small wheel for drawing the water. I laid my hand upon the bucket-chain, when instantly there rose from his kennel under the well-roof, which I had not noticed, a big dog. He hardly barked ; he meant business. With a deep growl he sprang forward and laid his fore-paws upon my shoulders, really looking down upon me, and saying as plain as speech: " What are you here for?" According to my best recollection, I did not stop to answer him, and he did not follow me to find out. I pushed on without further DE. IloSMEE'ti MEMORIAL. 33 effort to find a well, reaching home about three o'clock in the morning. Somewhat later, when I was perhaps fifteen years old, I was sent to drive a team with a load of lumber from Con- cord to Waltham factory. For part of the way the road was hilly and rough ; my lumber was shaken out of place, and in going down a steep hill, it came upon the backs of my oxen. I was in trouble, and no Hercules or anybody else came to my help. With my own strength, I had to re- load my cart and tighten the twisters that held the lumber in place. It was hard work for me, and the day was hot. When I reached the factory, a man came from the office to receive the lumber and measure it. Looking kindly at me, he said : " My boy, what is the matter with you? You look pale; are you sick?" I told him I was tired and faint. " Go lie down there under that tree," said he ; "I will un- load your lumber." So he gave my oxen their hay and unloaded ; then making ready for me and putting hay in the wagon-body, he said : ' ' Now you lie down on that hay and I will turn your oxen toward Concord. "You can see that they go right, and I guess they will go straight home." Nearly fifty-five years from that day I preached one Sunday in Waltham, and after my services I went to that spot- There was the tree under which I rested. I told my story to a man, and he informed me who my benefactor probably was, and that he was still there. I went to his house, but the old man was in his last sickness, so feeble that I could not see him to thank him. I look back through all the years, to the time when I wanted some books to read, more interesting to me than the books in the house, and I ventured to go to what was then the Concord library. It was kept by Mr. Stephen Wood in his little leather and variety store, on the dam adjoining his tan-yard. He was a very grave, stern-looking man, and I 34 BOYHOOD AND YOUTH. dreaded to meet him with my errand ; but I plucked up cour- age, and asked if "Robinson Crusoe" was in. Mr. Wood, to my surprise, looked very kind, and went to the Concord library. I see it now, the whole of it in a single book-case, perhaps nine feet high and eight wide, and not crowded. But ' ' Robinson Crusoe ' ' was not in. What should I do ? In my strait I asked Mr. Wood if he would give me any book he thought I would like ; and so, good man, he asked me questions to measure my calibre, I suppose, and looked up among the little books -a little book for a little boy, though it might be a compend of the universe. But he gave me a book, and so graciously that he never seemed stern afterward. How hard I worked on that book ! I don't know what its name was. I felt I must go through it, and I did, but it never got through me. I carried it back and gave up using the library. Then recreations. Was there not election day and its own cake? I wonder if the receipt is lost. The trainings, and the great muster-day ! How our young life was thrilled as we looked on the brave show of soldiers formed in line across the square. But Charles Melvin's trumpet never sounded for the charge into the jaws of death. Alas for the boys who never saw a Concord September court ! never beheld that long line of booths in front of the church, the crowds of people, the shows, the wrestling, the horse-racing, and the harlequin feats ! The old town, in its objects and scenery, furnished models to form my child- thoughts. My Amazon was like the Concord, only larger; my Alps or Andes were Lee' Hill and Fairhaven ; my Niagara Falls and Goat Island were just below Derby's Bridge, as I had seen the rapids there in a freshet; our neighbor's hundred-foot barn became my hundred-foot measure; a six-acre lot and a one-acre lot close by, my measure of space ; and these measures, Con- furniture, I have carried with me through life. DE. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 35 When I was fourteen years old my father died, and the time had come for me to think what I should do in life. My brother Cyrus must stay at home and take care of the family and carry on the farm. He did all this, and for fifteen years taught every year a winter school in or near Concord. It seemed best that I should go with my sister Rebecca and her husband, Mr. Henry F. Cogswell, to Peterboro, New Hamp- shire, where my brother-in-law had a woollen factory, and learn to be a manufacturer. This was in 1818. I began my apprenticeship in good earnest. I had, however, three months to go to school, and hearing that Samuel Barrett, a former teacher of mine, was to have the school in Concord, I went home to be once more under his instruction. Mr. Barrett be- came afterwards the respected minister of Chambers Street church, in Boston, and I look back to him as one of my most important friends. Upon his influence largely my destiny turned, for through his encouragement and advice, my mother, my brother, and my guardian all consenting, I changed my plan and set my face toward Harvard College. At once with Mr. Barrett I began the study of Latin, going, when the winter was ended, to the veteran teacher, Nahum H. Groce, of Westford. I studied very hard, and in a year and a half from the time I be- gan the Latin grammer, I was admitted with some slight condi- tions to the Freshman class, in 1822, in my nineteenth year. Here ends the sketch of his boyhood prepared by our father for his children and grandchildren. He is still remembered at Peterboro by two or three, as u a robust, intelligent, happy boy of fifteen or sixteen years," whose harsh experi- ences had only toughened without breaking the stout body and wide-awake mind. Among our father's papers, a composition is contained which 36 BOYHOOD AX I) YOUTH . must be referred to this time of boyhood ; it is the earliest extant memorial. It is written with the painstaking, formal penmanship of one not yet quite emancipated from the fear of the ferule, and treats in a stiff, perfunctory way the lugu- brious subject, " Death ": What can be more affecting than to be called to the bed- side of a dying friend ! Is he old ? remember the good advice he has given you, the protection he has granted you. Is he young? remember the many playful hours you have enjoyed in his company, and if existence had been granted would have been your associate through life. When you see a dear friend gasping at death, there is yet one consoling hope left, which is that we shall meet him in realms of eternal bliss, never more to part. Here, too, are some sentences from the earliest recoverable letter, written when he was seven- teen years old, just after he had begun his preparation for college : Mf. Groce says that I may rest a week ; this time I shall spend at home, and I fear that you will get hut little work from me, for I shall be abominably lazy. We have a very fine prospect from our high windows. Westford hills begin to look green, and to be covered with the joyful herds ; these pleasing scenes frequently attract the eye^ however closely confined. Both composition and letter are signed "Washington Hosmer," which was really the name given to him at baptism. The " George > DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. was assumed later in his youth, and inasmuch as he used it as part of his signature in certain legal documents, he could not conveniently afterwards drop it. It was, however, a matter of regret to him in after-life that his name had not remained plain " Washington Hosmer." MATURITY. 775? imffTyfiwv rr y v faeppofy /JLSV xai TTJV ZMettv ^eo^ef, TO ^ ffov eyrel xai routi 1 alpetrat. Aristotle, Nichom. Eth. II: 6 CHAPTER III. AT NORTHFIELD. UR father's autobiography does not go be- yond his entrance to college. At Cambridge he was a fair scholar in a class containing many distinguished men, having a part at an exhibi- tion and finally at commencement, a creditable showing, when the imperfection of his preparation is considered, and the fact that it was late in his youth when he turned from manual labor to the life of a student. His years at Harvard were full of steady, serious striving ; to eke out his scanty means he taught school in Wayland, Lincoln, and Bolton. His youth, however, was not ham- pered with any premature sobriety. At college and dining the winter school-keeping there was plenty of gay, rollicking life, and the young blade who was his chosen companion was C. C. Felton, afterwards Greek professor and president of the university. At Bolton there are traditions of merry times with the daughters of General Gardner, who a few years before had sympathized with the little boy embarrassed by his tired sheep. There were sleigh-rides extending even to Leo- minster, and many a jolly dance. A venerable 42 AT NOETHFIELD. lady still remembers taking pity on him when em- barrassed by liis stiff stock and the tightness of his trousers. The ends of the trouser legs, ac- cording to the fashion, were to be tied under the pumps, but as it was out of the question for him, in the closeness of the nether garments and the height of the choker, to stoop to do it, his com- panion, in mits, short waist, and high comb, fas- tened the necessary strings . He did not forget his accomplishments, but used to train his children and grandchildren in the " Fisher's Hornpipe" and " Hull's Victory," with an exuberance of pigeon- wing and general breadth of flourish and caper that were the admiration of Thanksgiving and birthday crowds, even while the smaller toddlers were in some peril. There is one mildewed letter from this college time, which, like a cob- webbed bottle, holds a little of the sparkling wine of his youth. To his brother Cyrus he writes : Halloo there from Concord ! I want clothes, money, accommodations. I am naked, persecuted b}' creditors, and some even want testimonials of my character. I have been in suspense these many days, looking wishfully for some messenger of comfort. Why has he not arrived? My chief business at present is to drive around to see from whom I can borrow another shirt, when the borrowed one I have on shall become unfit to wear to answer the summons of an old woman to whom I owe fifteen dollars ; which sum- mons lias been sent to me every day this week, till I am obliged now to hide from the boy. Deliver me, I entreat DE. HO SHEETS MEMOEIAL. 43 you, from such persecution ; it is worse than that of the former Christians or of the witches. Do, for goodness' sake, send me some money and save me from the Point jail. Of his stones of his college-life, the following- one is interesting: The " Harvard Washington Corps '' was then in its palmy days, and the fanner's boy, conspicuous from his height and broad development, was ensign. One day when drilling on the Delta, listlessness overtook the battalion ; they stacked their muskets and lay yawning on the grass. Suddenly our father's class-mate, young Jerome Bonaparte, nephew of the great Napoleon, usually indolent enough, sprung to his feet, and assuming an attitude of command, ordered the Corps into their ranks. His bearing was so martial, and as he stood with arm uplifted, his dark, eagle face, all on fire, was so like that of his uncle, lately dead at St. Helena, that the effect was electric. All sprang to their feet, full of a Napoleonic enthusiasm. Even the stripes of the flag in the ensign's hands seemed to flush redder, and the bayonets to burn with a fiercer glitter, till they imagined almost they were marching to avenge Waterloo. The life that followed our father's graduation, extending through a period of fifty-five years, though neither brilliant nor eventful, was an hon- orable and a useful life, and a very happy one. A tolerably complete picture, portrayed by his 11 At \nllTUFI KLI>. own hands, remains in his letters. His life-long friend, the well-known Dr. Edward Jarvis, who was a child with him in Concord, who was his companion at Westford Academy, his classmate and chum at Cambridge, and who stood with him in intimate and uninterrupted friendship until the day of his death, has preserved our father's let- ters to him from the year 1826, and kindly per- mits their use for the preparation of this memoir. To his children and friends it is a collection of absorbing interest, running, as it does, uninter- ruptedly from the years of his early manhood to the month of his death. The life has gone, but here we possess the picture. Upon the ear- lier sheets somewhat coarse and time-stained, the twenty-five cents marked in the corner show- ing that it cost something in those days to remem- ber one's friends the handwriting is at first stiff and immature, the thought and expression that of an undeveloped youth. The shaping of char- acter appears impressively, little by little, as the nature revolves in the lathe of experience. The finding of the wife, the burying of the mother, the joy of fatherhood, the change of home ; the struggle for recognition, the burden and heat of the day ; at length the fine mellowing, when one sees, as it were, the whitened hair in the ripened wisdom of the sentences, the heart-warmth as of a golden autumn day ; so on until the hand begins DR. HOSMEfi'8 MEMORIAL. 45 to tremble, the letters grow large under the fast dimming eye, the genial flow of spirits is strait- ened and impoverished then silence. The cor- respondence runs through the wide landscape of his life like a smooth river, reflecting now the happy light upon the mounts of exaltation, but also sombre chasms of despondency, festival wreaths, also the cypress and the asphodel, and an amaranthine effulgence caught from his victor- ious faith in immortality. The reflection remains, and we reverently follow our father's experiences, almost the moods of his spirit. Selections from these letters are given in the pages that follow, and also extracts from letters to other friends and to his children. Links are supplied here and there to give some coherency, biit our father shall himself, for the most part, tell the story of his life. At once after graduation he went to Plymouth, Massachusetts, to keep school. He writes, Sep- tember 17, 1826 : - If you talk as much in school as I do, I should think you would increase the debility which has heretofore troubled you. I am gaining some fame here by a kind of lectures suggested by the first part of Worcester's Geography, on the elementary parts of geography and astronomy. These les- sons are given to about ten of my best scholars. They seem highly interested in them, and retain the information wonder- fully. These boys will be a fine prop to my examination. I advise you to adopt something of the kind ; half an hour 46 AT NOBTHFIi:i.l>. each day thus devoted will do more to improve your pupils than hours of harder and less interesting labor would do if applied in some other method. As to my time, it passes very rapidly. We have little assemblings without ceremony almost every evening. A few evenings since we were all collected together, and about half-past ten a walk was pro- posed. Accordingly the whole party of us, twenty-five, went more than half a mile, running and jumping in the most child-like manner. Yet in all this sprightliness there is nothing of rudeness ; it is native vivacity so tempered with native delicate modesty as to be pleasing to the most refined taste. OCTOBER 16, 1826. My duties grow dull in spite of every exertion to make them interesting. A new method pleases the boys for a few days, but soon it becomes wearisome and they look for some other change. To make instruction interesting it ought to be given under as many different forms as school-masters have miseries. In fact, I begin to despair of being able to keep up the variety through the year. But a school-master through life ! I should die at the thought. If I can do my duty one year I shall think I deserve a pension. JANUARY 29, 1827. We do everything here for amuse- ment. Invention is taxed for variety. Hasty-pudding parties, candy frolics, clam suppers, and eel soups are very frequent. All these are only another name for a real jolly time, brought in only by way of excuse. This is the worst of all places to prepare a young man for clerical residence at Cambridge. I grow wilder, I believe, rather than more sober. I have too much sympathy to see so much going on without joining in it. I believe there is an unusually large share of accommodation in me. I fear I shall always be like the people with whom I associate, whether they be good or bad, grave or gay. Fine trait in a minister, isn't it? He taught school in Plymouth a year and a DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 47 half, meeting with line success, and outgrowing the repugnance to the life of a school-master expressed in one of the foregoing extracts. He was delighted, as his words indicate, with the hright social life of the town. But his mind was made up to pursue another calling, and he presently began his theological sudies at Cam- bridge. APRIL 29, 1828. You must not talk to Concord people about our monastic life. You instil wrong notions. As I was walking with William this evening, said he, pointing to an old man : "Is that the abbot of your monastery ? ' ' Mind, old fellow, how you call our hall a monastery ; it is a happy place. I wish I could always live as remote from the broils and battles of the world as we do here. AUGUST 7, 1829, AT NANTUCKET. After dinner we sailed for Nantucket. The distance is forty miles. We came in about six hours. The wind was north-east, and the fog shut us in so that we were out of sight of land for some time. We arrived here about dark. As one approaches the har- bor the shipping makes a great show. Many large whale- men lay at the wharves. I suppose more than a hundred whaleships are owned here, besides lots of smaller vessels. The wharves are muddy and rather miserable looking tilings, and the streets which lead from them are worse than any I ever saw before. They are sandy, and when wet as they are now, the surface is like sposhy snow. I could hardly travel with my valise. We were directed to Mark Coffin's. We find Mark Coffin to be a curious character, about sixty years of age, tall and patriarchal in his appearance, moving about his house ensconced in a monstrous red coat and white breeches. Our hostess is a large woman, and wears a 48 AT NORTHFIELD. long-waisted, old-fashioned gown, real antique. The old man and his wife look like Abraham and Sarah of old. Of our father's life at the Divinity School, the record is very meagre. His friend Jarvis was, at the same time, studying medicine in Boston close by, so that this period in the correspondence is very nearly a blank. The extracts just given show no evidence of the earnestness with which he pursued his studies, and the sincere religious spirit he had come to feel. His professors, Andrews Norton, the Henry Wares, father and son, and Sidney Willard, found in him good response to their faithfulness. He was accus- tomed to remember affectionately his old pastor, Dr. Ezra Blpley, of Concord, and the enthusi- astic, scholarly German, Dr. Charles Follen, as men who had given him essential help in his spiritual life. As to his hopes of success, Dr. Jarvis writes : Hosmer was always very modest in his estimate of himself, and moderate in his anticipations and plans for the future. In college and in the Divinity School he would say, he would like to be settled in such a town as Stow, an obscure place of about a thousand inhabitants with which we were familiar. With the remote position to which he was first called he was satisfied, and had no further aspiration. He was con- tented with the extent and elevation of the field, anchored here, as he supposed, for life. Ill a serious strain Mr. Hosmer writes, March 28, 1828: DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 49 I think you will do much good by joining the church. Get as many young folks as you can to do the same. It has been thought that the church must be opened to old age only. It is full time this impression were done away ; now is a good opportunity; get Mr. Greenwood's tract and spread it about. I feel almost inclined to come home and help you, be a missionary. Don't be afraid of revival ; there is no danger, only manage discreetly. Why should we feel deli- cate about speaking to others upon this subject? Before leaving the Divinity School, Mr. Hos- mer preached in Northfield, Massachusetts, a strong parish but sadly disunited. MARCH 28, 1830. Here I am in the valley of the Connect- icut, in this town of quarrel memory, thrown into the flow- ing mass as a nucleus around which the discordant materials may form and consolidate. I have preached three Sabbaths, and K says if I do as well or no worse than I have done, it will do. Some told him there would not be a dissenting voice. General N went to meeting yesterday the first time these twenty years, and another man who had been as long a delinquent. The General was pleased, I understood, because I made no bluster ; strange for me. Mr. M ex- presses satisfaction, and so on. Now this is to you only ; you have a right to know how I get along ; probably I shall have a call. The call came and was accepted. At the ordi- nation the sermon was preached by Rev. James Walker, of Charlestown, afterwards president of Harvard ; the charge was given by Rev. Dr. Ezra Ripley, of Concord, the pastor of four gen- 50 AT NORTHFIELD. erations of his family ; the right hand of fellow- ship, by Rev. Hersey B. Goodwin, father of Prof. W. W. Goodwin, of Cambridge ; and the ordi- nation prayer was made by the Rev. Dr. James Kendall, of Plymouth. In the year following, April 25, 1831, Mr. Hosmer was married to Han- nah, daughter of the latter, whom he had met during the school-keeping at Plymouth. In Northfield he passed the first seven years of his ministry, coping successfully with the diffi- culties of the position, and making his influence deeply felt in the life of the town. Says Rev. Dr. Bellows : We observe Northfield every time we pass down the Con- necticut River, very conspicuous from the railroad near South Vernon, and never without thinking of the tender, earnest, and effective ministry in which Hosmer exercised the fresh- ness of his heart and rooted himself in professional experi- ence and habits. We recall the fragrance of his swift success, his growing repute for wisdom and devotedness as it reached the students then in the Divinity School, always observant of the younger men who make their mark in the ministry to which they themselves are aspiring. There was nothing brilliant or highly intellectual or novel in his early reputation, nor in his later ; but at Northfield he gained a name for solid sense, for wisdom and prudence, for ministerial fidelit} 7 and personal consecration, attended by the reputation of a win- ning personality, equally loving and inspiring love ; of a great, genial, sunny soul, whose affections made other gifts less observed, or less missed, they were so much better than what are called talents, of which he had a fair share DE. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 51 and in considerable variety. The character he established in his ministry at Northfield was one very easy for him to sustain, rare and priceless as it is ; for it is difficult to believe that his nature as a pure, loving, and devoted one was not the same during boyhood and in college as in after- life. Seldom does a character, matching a man's appearance as accurately as Dr. Hosmer's, owe itself to strain, or con- quest, or conversion. He was made body and soul for what he afterwards showed himself to be. There was a homo- geneousness, a through- and- through texture of uniformity and self-resemblance in the man and in his career, which showed how strongly he had been projected on his path, and how little resistance anything in him had made to his desti- nation. Dr. Hosmer grew greatly, but he never outgrew his original manifestation. He was a thorough and experienced minister, and known for all the qualities that have since made him so much trusted and esteemed when he left North- field, to the sorrow and regret of his church and people. A somewhat remarkable company of young men was gathered at Northfield at this time, some of whom afterwards attained to great emi- nence. B. R. Curtis, the famed jurist, was be- ginning there his great career. William A. Stearns, afterward president of Amherst ; Rev. Dr. Jonathan Stearns, of Newark, New Jersey ; Mr. Curtis' s brother-in-law Woodward, afterward Judge Woodward, of Iowa; James C. Alvord, afterward professor in the Law School at Cam- bridge and member of Congress ; and Rev. Edgar Buckingham, were also among the num- ber. Dr. Edward Jar vis, afterwards famous as a physician, and one of the most eminent of 52 AT NOETHFIELD. American statisticians, left the medical school as his friend left the theological school, and went with him to the Connecticut Valley. Still another of the company was our father's older brother Cyrus, principal of the academy. Such a com- pany of able, well-educated, and ambitious young men gave a fine tone to the society of the village. The circle was broken from time to time, how- ever, one of the first departures being that of Dr. Jarvis, who, after two years' residence in Northfield, removed to Concord. OCTOBER 19, 1832. Packing up your things is as if I were closing up the concerns of a dead man. It is rather sad. I have looked forward to the years, and have thought more of you than of any one else here. Probably so long as I can remain here as I now am, I shall never leave. If I should leave the people and they should fall out by the way, it would be a burden to my conscience, though I might be set- tled in the moral Eden of Christendom. I have seen them look sad and speak in tender tones because the doctor is not. I have well-nigh resolved that they shall not look sad because the minister is taken away also. I am the more glad the child's name is yours now. The child to whom allusion is made in the last sentence was Edward, the first-born of our number, a hopeful boy, who died in his third year. The vigorous literary club of the village sug- gests the f ollowing letter : NOVEMBER 21, 1832. I wish you would write me what DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 53 questions you discuss in your Lyceum. I am the president of ours, and virtually curator. To-morrow Mr. Curtis will read Mr. Webster's lecture upon " Virtue." You must talk with G about ministers being engaged in debates at all times. A minister may speak often, but he must speak right. It injures any man, and especially a minister, to advance un- sound positions and make crude speeches. He had better say nothing than to say wrong or flat things. Besides, a minister is obliged to appear so often before his people that he ought to be careful, lest they become tired of him. It is not wise to speak at random. You would not think the less of G , even though you should see him put down in debate by K or C , but very many would think the less of him. The most sensible part of the community are willing to see ministers as they see other men ; but there are very many who have not yet come out of the ancient darkness, and they would be glad to see all the wigs and bands of the last cen- tury. We must try to give no offence. To a letter of criticism he replies : DECEMBER 23, 1832. I shall endeavor to profit by your suggestions. In the first place, as to smoothness of style. It depends much upon delivery whether a style appears smooth or not. Some men have a smooth, flowing elocution which makes whatever they speak appear polished. Mr. G has that quality of speech, and his style is, indeed, fin- ished ; but were I to deliver his sermons they would appear very different. I cannot speak without effort ; my lungs do not play easily. Mr. Quincy is a remarkable instance. His utterance is exceedingly rough, so that his style seems very unrefined and broken, sometimes even uncouth ; but it is in reality a very fine style, Mr. Curtis thinks as good as that of any New England writer. I do not write this to prove to you that my style is good, though it does not appear so, but to 54 AT NORTHFIELD. apprise you that the smoothness of which you speak is unat- tainable by me. Don't you remember when Mr. G used to rise up in the chimney-corner of Mr. Otis' s recitation-room and roll off the translation of Tacitus, it was pleasant to hear the strain flow along? and perhaps you may remember, too, that your next neighbor among theH's was not remark- ably mellifluous. Some streams must produce their effect upon the beholder by gliding smoothly, others by rolling grandly, and others by tumbling roughly along over roots and rocks, and it is idle to complain of any one for not possess- ing the qualities of all. True, some of the roots and stones may be removed, but what will be the effect? Perhaps to give deadness where before there was some life. However, I shall attend to it. He became well known among the hills and valleys of western Massachusetts, and southern Vermont and New Hampshire, and came to be held in high esteem in the various parishes to which he preached. He writes : JUNE 17, 1833. I think I am regarded above my merits in this vicinity. My public services are approved more than I have any reason to expect. I am really afraid there will be a reaction. I have this morning received a letter from Keene, requesting a copy of my discourse delivered there May 21st, for the press, in which letter they speak in flattering terms. I shall not give a copy. If I go to printing I shall certainly fall. He met with a severe affliction December 19, 1833, in the death of his brother Cyrus, to whose DR. HOSMER^S MEMORIAL. 55 noble character he pays the following tribute, in a paper written long afterward : My brother Cyrus was born in 1796. Making the best use of the public schools of Concord, he was an excellent English scholar, and when seventeen years old, taught a school in the winter at Stow. From that time onward for twenty-one years he was engaged in teaching a part of nearly every year. He took the estate of his father and grandfather when very young, and with the counsel and aid of our mother, who was very wise and energetic, he removed all embarrassments, helped his sisters and me to take our places in life, and at thirty years of age was prominent among the rising men of the town. He showed a tactful t'irift in farming ; he led in improving schools and methods of education. He also gave lectures in the Lyceum and in his school districts, and so he taught the parents as well as the children. His mind was active, and he had singular felicity in making common thoughts and things interesting by apt illustration. In this double occupation of teaching and farming, intensely engaged winters as well as summers, it is not strange that a constitution not robust should give way. Though health failed, he still kept at work, encouraged by the appreciation bestowed on his labors and character. He was too thoughtful, too much engaged to be looking for favors from the public. One mark of peculiar esteem and confidence was given him when he was thirty-one. The old church in Concord has a most respectable line of deacons from the early days. He was invited to that office, as I suppose, the youngest man that ever had stood in the vener- able line. In the fall of 1830, the year in which I was settled at Northfield, the Northfield Academy was without a principal, and Cyrus was invited to take the place. He accepted, 56 AT NORTUFIELD. removing from Concord in the fall of that year. It was a bold enterprise. He had never studied Latin or Greek, but he was an approved English teacher and skilful manager, and long experience made him wisely confident. He took the superintendence and employed young graduates of Harvard as assistants. Though in poor health my brother greatly enjoyed his work, and the academy prospered. He was greatly beloved, governing without calling it government. He never found any bad boys. A gentleman in Boston wrote him that he had a son who was a bad boy, and had been turned out of two or three schools. He asked if he could be taken at Northfield. My brother replied favorably, but said he did not know what to do with him, as he never had had any bad boys to manage. The boy came and stayed, but he was no longer a bad boy. My brother's influence reached beyond his academy. He was invited to speak in neighboring towns, and was highly appreciated. He drew scholars from afar, and several men greatly distinguished took their departure from his influence. Among his distinguished pupils are Bishop Williams, of Con- necticut ; Professor Kendrick, of West Point ; and Dr. Mor- ton, the discoverer of anaesthetic ether. Two young men, who earned their way by service in the family and school, are now among the richest and most influential business men of Ohio. He never was more felicitous than when addressing a Sunday-school. I remember his coming to my school in the full summer once, I think it was his last summer on earth. He came into the church with feeble steps, with a handful of the stalks and heads of the ripe wheat which he had gathered in his walk. Tall and dignified, his face full of benignity, he spoke to the school of the beautiful process of growth as illustrated in that wheat. The blade, the ear, the full corn in the ear ; and so he led our thought up to the gracious Providence in which we all live and grow. He had DR. HOSMER^S MEMORIAL. 57 but three } r ears at Northfield ; happy years, though shadowed with increasing weakness. In December, 1833, at the age of thirty-seven, he passed on, leaving a great peace in our hearts, even while mourning that we should see his benignant face no more. About his son Edward's death he writes : JULY 24, 1834. His disease was the croup. Soon he grew worse, and continued to grow worse until he died. He was bright, knew us all, and talked until a short time before death. His voice was choked more and more, and at last he could only whisper. He was grieved to see us weep. He tried to brush the tears from his mother's eyes, and told her ' ' he was a good boy. ' ' Edward was more beautiful in death than in life, so fair, so delicate, so placid. We could hardly endure to have him carried away. I have suffered as I never did before. The very silence of the house brings tears to my eyes, and at every turn that dear little boy is brought before me. How precious is the hope of Heaven for such sinless little beings ! You can tell how soothing it must have been for me while giving Edward up, to think that Cyrus might be waiting to welcome him to that other shore, and conduct him to Him who hath said : ' 4 Suffer little children to come unto me." Slight incidents portray character. In connec- tion with the death of little Edward, a circum- stance occurred which long afterwards suggested a passage in a work of fiction. The passage is as follows : A fair, loving boy he was coming to be, in the current of whose sweet young life, as it flowed freshly on in the par- 58 AT NOETHFIELD. sonage, the grandfather bathed his soul and grew young, as in a rill from some fountain of youth. Lenny sickened and died when scarcely four. I went up to see the old man, as he sat alone with his broken heart in the still chamber, a little cold heap of white upon the table at his side, cloth, and napkin, and the dead boy. "Gone from me!" he broke out ; and then with his head upon the table, he poured out his grief in the words of David above the corpse of Ab- salom: "Would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son ! ' ' What could I do or say ? Before such a bereavement I felt powerless. Everything I tried to say seemed cold and almost harsh ; I could only take the old man's hand, to clasp and bend over it. Mr. Wells grew calmer, as I sat with him. "At least, Mr. May," he said, sitting upright and becoming collected, " at least his burial shall be worthy. This clay, so sweet to me, must lie in a casket of the costliest; the little shroud must be of the choicest ; the memorial in the burying-ground shall be rich as chisel can carve. I must have it so, sir. All that is fine and delicate must wrap these little limbs. Upon the small plaited shroud must lie rare flowers, softest silk under this damp, white cheek. Help me to do this, Mr. May. Oh, it is little, little enough! but through these poor symbols I would speak the precious love I bore the child." I promised to give my help, and took my leave. It so happened that John Burns, a poor laborer of the parish, had also lost a child in the same night in which Lenny Wells had died. I went from the parsonage to Burns' s house and found there as much grief as I had left behind. Little Roddy lay under white cloths like the minister's grandchild. Already the two little fellows had begun to be playmates ; together they had thrown away their toy-drums and horses, and drooped away. I naturally talked to Burns and his wife about Mr. Wells ; and, rather thoughtlessly, in speaking of his grief, alluded to the arrangements which the minister DR. BOSMER'S MEMORIAL. wished to have made. "Yes," said Burns' s wife, " a brave little chap ;" then after a moment, with a sort of fierceness, " but no braver than our Roddy. They'll be buried the same clay. They played together down here on our slope, and pity 'twould be they should not be buried alike. What say ye, Burns? We'll go even witk the minister, won't we? Surely Roddy shall have only the brightest and best about him. ' ' Burns is poor and in debt. They could not make such an outlay without stinting the other children in clothing and food. I was sorry enough I had said anything. I hinted at the expense as delicately as I could ; but it was almost with passion that the woman spoke up: " It's not at such a time, sir, that we'd be counting dollars." I took the charge with great reluctance, " When I was ordering for the minis- ter, to order just the same for them." With Mr. Wells again in the evening, I told about my call at the Burns' s. I feared again I had not been guarded enough ; for I saw that Mr. Wells was moved when he heard what Burns had done. He walked thoughtfully across the room. He turned down the cloth from the dead boy's brow, kissed it, and hung over it ; then replaced it and was thoughtful again. Sensitive as he was, I knew there would be positive solace to him in having the circumstances of the burial and the grave rich and taste- ful ; and could not feel that it was right in such a time of agony, that he should give them up. Early the follpwing morning he sent for me. He was with the body as before. "Let the order be cancelled," said he, "if not too late. Grod forbid that in the midst of my chastening I should set an example of luxury, or lead my poor neighbors into ex- penditure that must come out of their bread." So Lenny and Roddy were buried ; the sexton fastening a plain walnut board down into a plain coffin, above each little wasted face. Each lay in a snow-white night-dress, with wild flowers upon his bosom and in his hand ; and each has for his gravestone an inexpensive slab from our quarry under the mountain." 60 AT NORTHFIELD. With a change of names, and understanding that the sacrifice is made by a father, not a grand- father, the story in all its substantial features fits Mr. Hosmer. Another path began to open before Mr. Hos- mer, if he had chosen to follow it. NOVEMBER 4, 1834. It is evident that my pulpit is the stepping-stone to office. 'Dolph Smith has already sounded me to learn if I would like to go Representative. Say, Doctor, would you go ? As I am here now in the car of majesty that is to be what say you to some office, say physician to the State's Prison. Would Field like to be gov- ernor's aid ? Wouldn't Mr. Hoar like some snug little berth ? Perhaps Uncle Jimmy might like to be made a justice. He is a working man, I think. Just let it be known that I am ready to aid anyone who will back up an application with a fee. We must all turn our felicitous opportunities to good account. I think you might go into the State's Prison with your saddle-bags in triumph ; and as like as not Almira might obtain the appointment of chief laundress. The time was coming when he was to enjoy a broader experience than the circumscribed life of a N"ew England village. His reputation as an effective preacher and man of good judgment caused the American Unitarian Association, in the year 1835, to select him to present the cause they had in charge, in a widely extended mis- sionary tour to the West and South. He was to go to Louisville, Kentucky, to take the place of James Freeman Clarke, while Mr. Clarke went DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 61 southward to spend some months in Mobile, where it was believed that Unitarianism might meet with a good reception. After Mr. Clarke's return Mr. Hosmer was to succeed him in Mobile, returning then northward through southern cities lying near the sea-board. Such a journey promised not less adventure in those days than would a journey round the world in ours. While strongly attached to his parish, it may be believed that the ties which bound him to Northfield had been somewhat weakened. His brother Cyrus was dead, Jarvis had gone ; his friend Curtis also had sought a larger sphere. With no thought, however, of anything more than a temporary absence he accepted the commission, left Northfield in November, and began his slow j ourney westward . The following passages from his diary may have some interest, as pictures. of old-time travelling : NOVEMBER 19, 1835. We are now on the boat from Utica to Rochester. Yesterday we had a pleasant run, but the night on board these packet boats is unpleasant enough. There were between forty and fifty passengers last night, and the boat small. About half-past eight o'clock the captain requested the passengers to go upon deck while the beds should be prepared. After about half an hour we went down and found our dining-room converted into a sleeping-room. Three tiers of berths had been strung upon each side like shelves. My place was on the upper shelf ; but there were not berths enough for all the passengers. 6 AT NORTtiFIELD. When enough were called to iill the berths, we were requested to go to bed so that room might be left to lay mattresses on the floor. A queer scene was now presented. We pulled off our clothes in part, and I climbed up into my crib ; others did the same ; then the floor was covered. There were fifty persons crowded into a room about forty by six- teen feet. A curtain was drawn between the ladies and gentlemen. The air became excessively bad through so many breaths, and I, being higli up, had the worst of it. I could not sleep, and between three and four o'clock I crawled out, clambered over men, and got to the fresh air. Finding we were near Little Falls 1 jumped ashore and walked on to see what I could in the dark night. Finding it cold and damp above, I again descended into the suffocating dormi- tory and laid down upon a settee. NOVEMBER 28. I arrived in Buffalo on Sabbath morn- ing ; went to the Eagle Tavern, where I was poorly accom- modated at the enormous price of two dollars a day. I had but a single hour to spend at Niagara, and that in a snow- storm. I returned to Tonawanda and took a line-boat for Buffalo, arriving Tuesday. In the forenoon I went aboard the " Commodore Perry," for Erie; had a good run along the lake until evening; then came on a storm, snow, rain, and darkness. It was fearful. Many of the passengers were sick, and some were terror-stricken. I determined that, should the boat fail, I would tie the two handkerchiefs I had in my pocket around my arm, and then, to the biggest floating thing I could find. We at last made Erie light, and at twelve o'clock anchored in the harbor. Wednesday evening I started from Erie for Pittsburg by stage, and was fifty- one hours, night and .day, going one hundred and thirty miles. Never did I make a more unpleasant journey. The roads were very bad, and we were troubled to find anything fit to eat. The only place which can be called pleasant on the whole route, is Meadville. The inhabitants on the road DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 63 seem to be a mixture of Dutch and English ; and though the land is good, the} 7 live poorly in mean houses and in mean style. New England paupers would complain bitterly if they were treated no better than the people in Erie, Mercer, and Butler Counties, Pennsylvania, treat themselves. APRIL 2, 1836, AT MOBILE, ALABAMA. The work which I came to do, or to begin to do, is in progress, and will without doubt go on. Nine thousand dollars are raised ; a house will be built this summer, and next autumn I have no doubt there will be a fine society here. Our friends here are highly respectable, among the first of the city in character and wealth. I shall leave here on the llth of April for Augusta, Georgia, thence to Charleston, thence to Norfolk, thence to Washington, and so on. I like Mobile quite well. The soil all around it is sandy, except in some runs which may be easily drained, It will be, indeed it is, a healthy city. The business part near the river is solid brick, but farther back the dwellings are of wood, and painted white. There are many pretty country places scattered in the pine woods ; but the great trial here is to prevent being run over by the business men who are racing back and forth. Before going to Mobile Mr. Hosmer had preached at New Orleans, and on his way home from there visited other prominent cities of the South. It is said of him at this time that " his manner was very impressive ; his delivery, the sound of his rich voice, and the expression of his countenance, added much to the effect of his preaching." From Buffalo, Mobile, and Rich- mond, Virginia, came invitations to settlement, while a colonel from Texas, a follower of Davy Crockett in the freedom war against Mexico, AT NORTHFIELI). who made one of his audience in a steamboat cabin on the Mississippi, proposed to carry him off to that wild, unreclaimed country. At Buffalo he had preached but once, on a black November Sunday, pursuing his way westward through wintry storms, as the diary relates, the week following. For him it was a momen- tous day. Twice he refused the urgent call that came to him. It was repeated for the third time, and in the summer of 1836 he reluctantly yielded. He writes as follows from Northfield, the summer after his return from his missionary tour : JULY 28, 1836. I am in a distracted state, but shall probably be settled by and by in Buffalo. I declined the invitation but it is renewed, and Dr. Channing, the two Wares, Palfrey, Walker, Parker, Barrett, Ripley, Briggs, Hall, and others, have expressed the opinion that I must go. This opinion is confirmed by the clergymen of this neighborhood. I am acting under a sense of responsibility that almost over- comes me. I am worn and exhausted by it. I feel sad as I look around upon the beautiful scenery of this town and think that I am soon to leave it. Should this parish become distracted, I shall be grieved. What if I should do more mischief by leaving here than I can do good in Buffalo ? CHAPTER IV. FIRST YEARS AT BUFFALO. HE invitation, from Buffalo, was extended to Mr. Hosmer during the strange inflation which preceded the panic of 1836 and 1837. It was supposed that the city was to grow at once to great size and importance . Many of the inhabitants be- lieved themselves to be possessors of vast wealth, and the most extravagant projects were enter- tained as regards improvements and institutions, to correspond with the supposed consequence of the position. Among such schemes was one for a great " University of western New York," which was to contain in its faculty the best learning and ability of the country, a.nfl. attract hundreds of students. Though, as it afterwards appeared, utterly Utopian, the plan was most gen- erous, and members of the Unitarian Society of the city felt in it much interest. The society had already been established several years, and had just lost its minister through secession to the Episcopal Church. A man was now desired who should not only be able in the pulpit, but also capable of guiding in the foundation of the 66 FIEST YEARS AT BUFFALO. university, perhaps, of taking part in the instruc- tion. Always modest in his estimate of his powers, Mr. Hosmer was overwhelmed when the parish at Buffalo, after advising with the great lights of the denomination, selected him as the best man to meet their wants. The offer was declined unconditionally, the letter which was sent by him urging that a man of great strength and experience was required, and that he could not undertake the responsibility. A few weeks later letters came from the denominational leaders, begging for a reconsideration of his de- cision, followed soon after by a second, more ur- gent appeal from the Buffalo church. This too was declined as decisively as before, Mr. Hosmer writing at the time : "I have now explained to the Buffalo people what they want and must have, and that the proper supply for their want is not to be obtained in Northfield. I think I have put it in such a light to them that they will be convinced." A third trial, East and "West co-operating, shook his firmness. Full of dis- trust, but paying deference to the Boston and Cambridge authorities and to the judgment of the Buffalo people, he at last accepted. In the fall of 1836 he went, with many misgivings, to his new post, Rev. Dr. Dewey preaching the ser- mon of installation. No pleasanter delineation of the origin and de- DR. HO SHEETS MEMORIAL. 67 velopment of the city which was to be his home for so long, can be found than an address, " The Physiognomy of Buffalo," which he himself gave in 1864, twenty-eight years later, before the Buffalo Historical Society. The account has genial, luminous touches which made it popu- lar with his former townsmen, and give it a de- gree of general interest as well. MEMBERS OF THE HISTORICAL SOCIETY, AND LADIES AND GENTLEMEN: My address must be historical ; it shall be chiefly perti- nent to the rise, growth, and character of our city ; my sub- ject is, " The Physiognomy of Buffalo." But in times like these, when momentous history is being made, and we are all so anxiously looking upon passing events, and straining forward to descry coming destinies our threatened nationality to be maintained and liberty secured, our wealth and ourselves held ready for public need, our young men to be given up if their country calls them, the dead to be mourned, and the living, in perils of warfare, to be followed with painful apprehensions ; amidst such experiences it is not easy to reverse the machinery, and turning back, leave the mighty crowd of daily events, and content oneself with gathering traditions and memories, and picturing the past. And yet, good may come from occa- sional diversion of interest ; the balance and health of our faculties are sometimes lost by long and intense concentra- tion. When we grow feverish with anxiet} 7 , impatient with what must be borne, it may do us good to wrench the mechanism and turn backward for a little while; by no means to neglect our duties in the present, no, not for an hour, but to maintain true poise and soundness of life, and 68 FIRST YEARS AT BUFFALO. have ourselves in readiness for right decisions and strenu- ous action. Once wrested away from passing events, we soon find satisfaction in searching and picturing to ourselves, the be- ginnings and progress of customs, institutions, and society, from the oak back to the acorn, from the Amazon back to its everlasting snow-drift fountains, from these United States to those frail tempest-tossed vessels that felt their way to Virginia, to Massachusetts, to New York. A few weeks ago I was in a smart young town of Michigan, scarcely thirty years old, which is rapidly assuming the airs of a city ; and in the house of one of the first settlers I saw two pictures ; rude enough they were, and yet there was nature in them, and manifold suggestion. The artist was among the early settlers. One picture represented the first three or four cabins in Kalamazoo, women and children about the doors, the first doctor on horseback talking with a man at his cabin door, probably giving him a prescription for fever and ague, and ready to ride far and near to forest homes, to keep souls and bodies from shaking asunder ; and in the dis- tance was seen the good Indian missionary, coming on his mule to welcome the settlers, and raise the voice of pra} r er and worship in their new home. The other picture was of the first trial by jury in that county, in a log cabin. There were the judges, the sheriff, the lawyers, the jury, the p ties concerned. These pictures seized my imagination ; from those solid blocks of stores and dwellings, and all the bustling life, I was back with the Romulus and Remus of the settlement, suckled by the wolf of savagery and hardship, with those men and women who there gave themselves, like all first set- tlers, to win for their successors one of the thriftiest towns in the fairest country anywhere to be seen. Would that a painter had been here with our Romulus of Buffalo, Mr. Joseph Ellicott, to show him to us as he rode on horseback DK. HOtiMXirS MEMORIAL. 69 with Mrs. James Brisbane in 1802. Through the forest trees, not far from where we are now, he pointed to the lakt> and river seen through the leaves, and assured her that a great city must arise here. We should like another picture of him standing by his compass in what now is Main Street, in front of the churches ; so confident is he that commerce must come here and pour out her horn of plenty, that he has resolved to lay out a city ; so delighted is he with the grandeur of the situation, that he thinks he will make his home here : he selects for himself a noble manor, one hundred acres of land, between Eagle and Swan Streets, and from Main nearly to Jefferson Street almost enough for a principality in Ger- many and determines to build upon the western front look- ing towards the lake ; so here, upon what is to be the site of his house, he stands by his compass, indicating the lines which are now our streets Main Street running north and south upon the crown of land ; Church Street directly front from his door to the water, Erie Street to the mouth of the creek, w r here commerce must come, Niagara Street to Black Rock Ferry, which was a great institution in the early day, and so on to the completion of the plan. Mr. Ellicott, in laying out our city, had large ideas, and worked upon a grand scale. There is originality in the plan. He did not bring a map of New York, or Boston, or Albany, and lay it down here ; he wrought upon the inspira- tion of a magnificent hope, and we are greatly indebted to him for the open, handsome face of our city. It is reported that Mr. Ellicott said, "God had made Buffalo, and he must try to make Batavia." God did make the place and its surroundings : the wooded ridge gently sloping toward the sun, the lake stretching far away to the west, and pouring its unceasing flood along the majestic Niagara close by, the Canada shore, the Chautauqua and Cattaraugus hills, and the high lands of Evans, Aurora, and Wales all to- gether, as seen from the reservoir on Niagara Street, is a 70 FIRST YEARS AT BUFFALO. ^ -- noble panorama. I love to take strangers to see it. God made these surroundings and background to relieve and set off our city's face, and He gives the contour of the plrysiog- nomy ; but particular features are defined and expression is given, by the streets and squares. Philadelphia, with its checker-board arrangement, looks set, precise, demure. Boston Common, and the newly made parts of that city, are very beautiful, but the most of its features are painfully con- tracted and snarled up. The face of New York is much too long for its breadth, and the forehead is still enlarging into monstrous proportions ; cerebral diseases may be feared. State Street in Albany, and Capitol Square at its head, are like the 'fine nose and imperial brow of a noble face ; but mairy of the features of Albany are cramped and distorted, as if the old builders, remembering little Holland, had still felt pinched for room, and so lived under the hill, fighting against the floods of the Hudson, as their fathers had against the Znyder Zee, instead of stretching over the sightly summits. Our city has no neighboring hills, like Albany and Cincin- nati, to heighten expression ; but its plan and streets for beauty, health, and convenience, I think are unrivalled. There is enough irregularity to prevent tiresome monotony, and not enough to create confusion. Mr. Ellicott, I suppose, intended Niagara Square should be the centre of his city ; from that point the streets run off in all directions eight broad avenues and at night, when these streets are lighted, from that point in the square where they all centre they make a grand show, double lines of light stretching off into the surrounding darkness. This square did not become the centre of the city, because the State reserved a mile strip along the Niagara River, and so Buffalo was thrown to the East and South, in a measure interrupting the perfection of Mr. Ellicott' s plan. But as it has turned out, we have re- ceived a largess of favor from his liberal designing ; he gave to the city a good, comely face. But many of us can re- DR. HOSIER'S MEMORIAL. 71 member when the face of Buffalo was rather rough, and parts of the year, too dirty with mire, for washing to do any good. Main Street was as broad as Mr. Ellicott laid it out, but its mud was said to have no bottom. I have seen teams sloughed on Mohawk Street, near Delaware ; and one team I remember seeing sunk so deep that it seemed to be going through, until another team was brought to drag out and rescue the sinkers. I saw a young lady, one day, sloughed in the middle of Pearl Street, near Tupper, so that she could not step without leaving behind her shoes and overshoes, per- haps the whole foot apparel ; and there she stood, with a patience peculiar to those days, until I got boards and made a way for her poor feet. It was found, every spring and fall, that the face of Buffalo was too soft. Gradually our fine pavements for street and sidewalk have been extended, the best I know anywhere, and now we have fifty- two miles of paved streets, so well graded that nowhere is there steep- ness enough to be inconvenient for heavy draughts, and everywhere there is descent enough to make quick and cleanly drainage. The physiognomy of Buffalo owes more than we think to the excellent system of sewerage planned and recom- mended by Mr. Oliver G. Steele, and adopted more than twenty years ago ; it has been gradually extended according to the original plan, until now we have fifty-four miles of sewers, all working, in their hidden ways, for the health and beauty of our city. O, those dirty-faced, foul-breathed cities without sewers ! Chicago, Washington, Baltimore, and parts of New York, in a hot morning of August or September, have not faces fit to be seen, and the atmosphere in the by- places is loaded with disease. We have fifty- six miles of gas- pipes, and thirty- three miles of water-pipes, filling streets and houses with light, and furnishing water to extinguish fires, promote cleanliness, and add to the comforts of home. By all these outward means, costing about $2,000,000 in the aggregate, our city's physiognomy, which, though grand, was 72 FIRST YEARS AT BUFFALO. rude and shaggy at first, has been smoothed, refined, and beautified. We all know, in regard to human physiognomy, what wonders are wrought by the surface touches of hatters, barbers, and milliners ; so has the face of our city been made comely. But physiognomy depends much upon the soul within. A face may have good contour, fine complexion, elegant surroundings, the features well enough, and yet be blank, unmeaning. There can be no grand physiognomy without the illumination of a grand soul. I have watched college classes of young men, and seen the light of intelli- gence, and the delicate lines and touches of refinement com- ing into their faces, as their minds and hearts were raised and dignified by generous culture ; unpromising heads and homely faces sometimes made glorious, from the animating spirit thzt came out visible, radiant, in eye and features. The physiognomy of cities takes characteristic airs and ex- pression from the spirit of builders and citizens. The cities of the middle ages, those strongholds, surrounded by walls, frowning with castles and towers, grew out of the belligerent spirit of cruel barbarism ; and the physiognomy of those old feudal towns is like that of roughs and prize-fighters, by dreadful discipline made up to maul, or be mauled to death. The old castellated mount of Edinburgh seems still clenching its fists and gritting its teeth with the ancient Scottish hate of England ; and York and Chester wear the stern features which the Romans gave them to overawe the ancient Britons. The towns and very hamlets of Wales still look grim and de- fiant toward England. The French have built Paris, and how the spirit of France appears in the gay, showy capital ! No place in the world like it to enjoy oneself, to be comfortable, to have pleasant sights and endless diversions, amusements, and scientific curiosities ; it can take the weary, hard-worked man, and keep him busy in pleasant ways until he is rested ; it can take the poor hypochondriac, and make him laugh himself into DK. KOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 73 health. Gay, interesting, smiling Paris the worldling's heaven ; it is the ultimate result, the chef d 'ceuvre of the French spirit. Paris is France, and in its face shows the soul of the nation, the theatre more than the church enjoy- ment more than virtue the life that is, more than that which has not come yet. We turn now to the physiognomy of our own city. It is a comely, noble face, open and generous, thoughtful and earnest ; not grim with knotted muscles, as though born out of combat, nor soft with blandishments for the merely sensuous nature. I like the face ; it has a common-sense look of business, and yet it has aesthetic expression of con- venience and beauty, and, best of all, a wise, serious look ; public school-houses among the fine buildings on the sightly avenues, and the churches more conspicuous and beautiful than the theatre. Business, knowledge, beauty, religion, are in the features of our city, more than pleasure and diversions. Cities take their physiognomy, in large degree, from the spirit of their builders and citizens : we expect the child to possess its parent's qualities and tendency. Who were the fathers, and mothers, and builders of Buffalo, and were they such men and women as, according to our philosophy, we must presume them to be ? Mr. Ellicott, who first saw the possibility of a large city here, was no doubt a man of fine natural sense, and far- sighted ; he saw what no one else could, or did see, for many years ; and long after he had laid out the city, and in his own mind saw the streets made, and lined with blocks of stores a^nd houses, emigrants from the East, refusing oppor- tunities here, went on to Chautauqua and to New Connecticut, not believing a word of Mr. Ellicott' s about the certainty of a large city at the foot of Lake Erie. Men were slow to see that a great commerce must grow up on these lakes. They could not comprehend the possibilities of the vast wilderness and prairies of the West ; and the settlers that 7 74 FIRST YEARS AT BUFFALO. came in here to the hamlet and village of Buffalo, from the beginning, even up to 1816, had not begun to believe in Mr. Ellicott's prophecy. They came here to make a living by the local trade, and perhaps secure something by advance of village lots ; but very few cared much for the great city plan, with its Dutch-named avenues and streets. Though General Washington, thirty years before, on a journey to central and northern New York, had foreseen western settle- ment and commerce, and though Mr. Ellicott saw a city here, the ordinary men said, What chance for commerce here, while the creek has to make a new mouth for itself every spring through the shifting sands of the lake shore ? And yet commerce did increase, and Buffalo dragged along, until it was burned up ; then it arose again, and after the war was over, new men came, with new ideas and great expectations. Western emigration began to be an astounding fact, and far- sighted men saw what must be the consequence of it : ways of communication must be opened between West and East ; a great canal must be made from the Hudson to Lake Erie, and at the western terminus of that canal, wherever it be, there must be a large commercial city. Such thoughts and conclusions drew bright, enterprising men to this vicinity, to Black Rock and Buffalo, from the new settlements of west- ern New York, and from New England, especially from Connecticut. Superior men came looking after the great opportunity. Where should the city be? Gen. Peter B. Porter, an energetic, imperative man, a distinguished officer in the war that had lately closed, graced with the laurels he had won, and influential in the whole State, said the canal must come to Black Rock, and there the city must be ; and he and his friends prevailed so far as to procure large State appropriations for the Black Rock harbor ; and they felt so confident, that Black Rock was laid out for a great city Meantime, Buffalo was struggling for recognition of her position and claims. We can hardly DE. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 75 conceive of the intense rivalry of these two localities, which now are both Buffalo. It was a struggle of some years. No pains, and no money that could be had, were spared by the rival places to draw in influential inhabitants. Black Rock said that Buffalo Creek had no mouth, and no harbor could be made here ; and Buffalo said that Black Rock would be swept down the Niagara, as soon as it attempted to have wharves and shipping; and besides, said Buffalo, its face made up into an interrogation point, how are vessels to get up through the swift water from Black Rock into the lake? Oxen were used tugging the first vessels up the shore. Was commerce always to go by ox-power, by what the sailors called a horned breeze ? The contest was at its height from 1820 to 1823. In the summer of 1821 or 1822, an eventful meeting took place in Buffalo. The Canal Commissioners held a session in the dancing-hall of the Eagle Tavern. The object of meeting here, was to consider the claims of Buffalo to be the western terminus of the Erie Canal. It was life or death to Buffalo, as they all thought. Would that we had a true picture of that meeting. Mr. Joseph Dart was an eye-witness, and has given me some account of it. DeWitt Clinton was chair- man of the Commissioners, and Stephen Van Rensselaer, the patroon ; Henry Seymour, Myron Holley, and Samuel Young were his associates, an august company ! The great ques- tion was, Black Rock or Buffalo? Gen. Porter was the chief advocate for Black Rock, and with shrewd ability, for which he was so distinguished, he advocated the cause of the dwellers by the river side. The chief advocate for Buffalo was Judge Wilkeson. He was not a lawyer, not much used to public speaking, never trained and cultured in schools or college, but a man of great natural force, vigorous common sense and mighty will, with courage and hope born out of his rugged strength. Educated by the rough, earnest strug- gles of border life, he had made his way here, and saw a 7C> FIRST YEARS AT BUFFALO. once the practical bearings of this great question ; he knew this was the place for the city, and his confidence, and the substantial reasons he could give for it, made him the man to plead for the interests of Buffalo. The day was hot, and our advocate, says my informant, pulled off his coat, and according to the habit of his laborious life, worked for us all in his shirt sleeves ! And Mr. Dart says, that after the hearing, Gov. Clinton summed up the whole matter in a judicial way, letting it be quite distinctly seen that, in his opinion, this was the place for the city, and that here the canal should terminate. During the year 1822 or 1823, with great struggles, the question was settled. The canal was to come to Buffalo. There were large-minded men here who saw the opportunity, and with all their might laid hold of it. The first thing to be done was to give Buffalo Creek a permanent stationary mouth into which vessels could enter. It was a difficult and expensive work. Black Rock said it never could be done ; but there were men here who said it should be done. But how? There was not ready money enough in the whole village to pay for such a work, and it was proposed that, if possible, $12,000 should be obtained by loan from the State. A bond was made, and the names that went upon that bond for the loan should be known to every inhabitant of Buffalo. That was the hard lift, that the magnum opus, and showed the noble purpose and determination of the men who gave the bond. In their day of small things, all of them comparatively poor, they bound themselves for the means to make it seem possible that there could be a harbor at this point; everything depended on this. The State refused to do the experimental work ; the Canal Commissioners doubted: and so four men put their names to the bond, and got the $12,000 from the State ; and with other money, private subscriptions in small sums from the villagers, to be given in labor, in shoes, in blacksmithing, DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 77 in stone, in pork, in brush for fascines, the first breakwater was constructed, under the direction, and in part by the hands, of Judge Wilkeson, in 1820 and 1821. These were the names upon that bond: at the head, and probably the originator of the plan, Samuel Wilkeson ; let it stand upon his monument at Forest Lawn, of granite, like his charac- ter urbem condidit* he built the city; Charles Townsend and George Coit, young men from Connecticut, partners in a village trade ; and Oliver Forward, a lawyer and strong- natured man. All these four are builders of the city. They took up the mountain and cast it into the sea Others helped all worked then, when life and death for Buffalo hung on the ends of the balance. How little do we, who have entered into other men's labors, think how they struggled for what we so securely enjoy! There was Judge Wilkeson' s break-water, made of fascines, filled in with rocks and sand, and bound together. Black Rock and others said the first spring storm would send the Judge's fascines down the Niagara in a hurry; and there was danger Buffalo felt afraid. Mr. Henry Lovejoy says he remembers going, with two hundred men, down to the breakwater at the mouth of the creek, in the spring of 1822, each with a shovel on his shoul- der, that they might be there when the ice broke up and went out of the creek, and by shovelling, manage the currents and protect the new breakwater. They waited there all day, the creek, still as dead, playing possum while they watched it. At dark they came home, hungry, tired, scolding at commer- cial difficulties ; and lo, in the night the flood burst out, as my informant says, turning the breakwater upside down; but the Judge had made it fast together, and so heavily weighted it with stone, that it held fast its integrity and kept its place ; and to this day the old cribs remain under the massive stone breakwater at the light-house. The floods were foiled and Black Rock was non-suited Buffalo had a harbor, and a way to get into it and out of it. Meantime, the canal was 78 FIRST YE ARK AT BUFFALO. making, and in 1825 came the grand opening of the New York highway between East and West. All clouds now had cleared away, and sunshine rested upon the fortunes of Buf- falo. We will not fail to do justice to those men who were the fathers and builders of our handsome-faced city ; there were among them many large-minded, far-seeing men, and they gave their own great proportions to the city they builded ; and the exprsssion of our city's physiognomy tells of Ellicott, Wilkeson, and Townsend and Coit, and Forward and Hea- cock, Johnson and Pratt, and Love and Tracey, and Potter and Joy, and Webster and Chapin, and the men who preached the gospel, and those who taught the youth. Those men, the builders, almost all are gone ; and if any one inquires for their monument, tell him to open his eyes and look around Circumspice ! But the most of those men who did so well, and the active men who came after them, are said to have made fools of themselves in the speculations of 1835, which were, indeed, as wild here in Buffalo as anywhere in the country. There are old men in New England, and multitudes of them in Old England, who think of our beautiful city as wearing a fool's face, because it had the speculation mania badly. Let me say a word about this. We deny that there is a single deep mark of a fool in the physiognomy of our city. The folly was only a passing shade. The fact is, we all make fools of ourselves sometimes, in some way, and the only question among us is of more or less. Go read how the canny Scotchmen, about 1694, were maddened and befooled by the Darien speculation, which had no other basis than a dream- idea which one Paterson had, of opening a passage across the Isthmus of Darien. Fletcher, of Saltoun, chiefly known by his saying, " Let me make a nation's songs, and whoever will may make their laws;" wise as he was, had this fever, and others among the shrewdest ; and for six years, cold Scotia DB. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 79 was all aflame, and then came utter collapse of the emptiness. Go read how Paris, all France, indeed, was befooled in 1718 by John Law and his scheme of the Mississippi and India Company, a magnificent humbug hatched in the brain of one single man ; all Paris went crazy for three or four years more absurd things are told of than were ever done here. But England claims never to lose common sense. Go read of her South Sea mania in 1720. The whole nation was affected, from the throne to the cottage. The idea was to get gold and silver, by going round Cape Horn to Peru and Mexico. The scheme was called the Earl of Oxford's mas- terpiece. Spain, powerful then, never allowed them to do a thing towards realizing their idea, but knaves blew it up into the most magnificent bubble, and for four or five years the South Sea mania and its mighty company swelled with gigan- tic pretensions : it would shoulder the whole national debt of 31,000,000 sterling ; it would pour riches into every house ; it swelled, AND THEN it burst, and English common sense was seen, with foolish and enraged look, staring at the floating vapors ! The mania of speculation here was not so strange ; there was foundation to stand upon. From the opening of the canal in 1825, there was a rush of western emigration through Buffalo. Each year it grew greater than before. The canal was crowded, hotels all full, warehouses groaned under their burdens, vessels and steamers could not be built fast enough for the demands of business. I was here in the autumn of 1835, and one morning I was at the dock, with many other strangers, gazing upon the mighty heaving west. era tide. There was a pile of goods and furniture all along on Joy & Webster's wharf, more than twenty feet high, and upon the top of it sat as many as a dozen Senecas, men and women, they, too, with the rest of us, gazing with astonish- ment at this sudden flood of life sweeping over them, coin- ing they knew not whence, and going they knew not whither. It was marvellous ! Land was wanted, land to stand upon, 80 FIRST YEARS AT BUFFALO. land to speculate with, land was gold. And then it seemed that all the opening West was to come with its harvest con- tributions floating right to Buffalo. Railroads then were not much thought of for carrying freight ; to this point came the lake, from this went the canal, and here might be the New York of the West; and so it would have been, but for the coming of railroads to compete with vessels for the car- rying trade. It was not strange that the men here made a great mistake ; got wild with hope, and that some were hoisted upon their bubbles to get very bad falls ; but generally there was some basis to speculation, it was not all idea and dream ; there were real facts enough to make sensible men hope prodigiously. It may seem very wise to look back and laugh at the old builders and business men of Buffalo, but they were wiser than Solomon, compared with Scotland, France, and England, when their ravings came. I love to think what those men of Buffalo in 1835, in their great hope, meant to do here. The merchants were to have an Exchange filling Clarendon Square, and with a towering dome two hundred and twenty-five feet above the pavement. Commodore Perry was to have a monument of white marble in front of the churches, one hundred feet high, with graceful carving, armorial bearings, and emblematic statues. Educa- tion was to have the University of Western New York, with magnificent endowment, and the foremost men of the country in its various departments. Nor were the good intents all on paper merely ; one of the wildest of hopers did actually start a free public school for sixty scholars children of the poor, and kept it open and flourishing for several years. I honor men who, if they do get crazed by enterprise and too much hope, show themselves large-minded and nobly generous, grateful to patriots, munificent to education, mindful of the poor, and anxious to bestow true riches and quickened life upon posterity! With the mind's eye, behold our city's physiognomy, as the great hopers meant it should be, with DR. HOSMER'ti MEMORIAL. 81 the beautiful Perry monument, and the University of west- ern New York, with its grand buildings on North Street, rivalling Harvard or Yale, and society graced and im- proved by its teachers and students, and with a commerce on the lake that might require a Merchants' Exchange as large and high as was dreamed of. Despite the ridicule upon those builders' failure, the future may fulfil their expecta- tion more nearly than we think. In regard to faces, association does wonders ; the old adage comes true handsome is, that handsome does ; even homely features may get so blent with truth, love, and nobleness, that to the mind's eye they are beautiful. The kind, good woman, though with no line of grace or beauty in form or face, who has left home and friends, and for the sake of mercy gone to the hospitals, becomes beautiful as an angel to the sick soldier, as she bends over him with a mother's tenderness striving to relieve his anguish ; and just so it is with cities' faces. There is little Calais, in France: to my mind it has always worn a halo of glory, ever since, in my old school-book, I read how Edward III. of England was about to put the city to fire and sword, but consented to spare the inhabitants and their homes and children if six of the principal men of the city would volunteer to come bare- headed and bare-footed, with halters about their necks, to be hanged in view of his besieging, victorious army. And the martyr heroes came, Eustace De St. Pierre at their head. Such nobleness has given interest and beauty to Calais for all these five hundred years! The old pilgrims of 1620 gave a glory to the unromantic shores and barren hills of Plymouth, and travellers will not cease to go to that shrine of lofty self-sacrifice to truth and freedom, to gaze upon the brave, heroic face of that landscape. And, alas! how the face of a city that is fair enough to the outward sight may, to the mind's eye, get a look of deformity that will make outward comeliness as nothing. There is New York 82 FIRST YEARS AT BUFFALO. imperial city, at the gates of the world's commerce, the waters gathering around her, as if anxious to bear her freighted keels. But O, that hard, meanly cruel scowl upon her face, wrought there by riot against law, and savage massacre of weak, unoffending men, women, and children, because God had made them with a dark skin ! And, let the truth be told, our own city got an ugly mark, a stain not readily washed out, by just the beginning of a similar riot and bloodshed. Sin destroys beauty ! Look far away towards the sunset to the golden horn of the West, where San Francisco, Queen of the Pacific, sits beside the sea. She has been noble. Though so far away, and tempted to stand aloof in selfish isolation, she has felt the laboring heart-beat of the Union and of liberty, and while bearing her share of public burden, she has sent hundreds of thousands to the Sanitary Commission. With generous loyalty she turns toward us and stretches out her arms to help. To the mind's eye. how noble and fair the face of that young Pacific Queen ! Handsome is that hand- some does. The builders of our city have done their work, and on the whole have done it well. They have made for us a dwelling- place with open, finely formed features, and their earnest, generous spirit gives a handsome expression. But Buffalo is not finished: generations yet to come are still to be builders, and every one of us, in public or private life, is giving expression more and more, good or bad, to our city's face. . He writes thus on the evening of his first Sunday in Buffalo : OCTOBER 23, 1836. Rockwood Hoar will bring a letter to you, and though I am fatigued with my first Sunday's services, and it is now near ten o'clock, I will write you a DR. HOMMER'S MEMORIAL. few lines. I have been installed and made a beginning, and I trust that all will be well here. We have a beautiful church and a fine organ ; so far people are well disposed, and I hope not disappointed in me. * * * Hoar is an honor to Con- cord. I am glad to introduce him as my townsman. The hopes of the ambitious city underwent crushing revulsion within the first year of Mr. Hosmer's settlement. Out of the embarrassment by which he was surrounded he could write cheer- fully even with humor. AUGUST 15, 1837. No means are spared to drive away our people. Some of the pulpits hurl forth arguments and denunciations against us, and I believe no secret ( means are left untried. Our people are not all as earnest as they should be. Some of the warm afternoons this summer, our pews have been quite naked. I think we have had as few as one hundred, two or three times ; but usually in the morning our church is pretty well filled, often more than two hundred. I find my labors more exhausting here than in Northfield. I am now brought into comparison with two or three men who are my superiors, and nothing but effort can save me. The hard times affects the churches. One has failed, and another has executions on it of $18,000. On the whole, then, do you think I wish myself back in Northfield, with its safe fund, and quiet parsonage, and shady trees? No, I do not; I think I was needed here, and do not regret that I came. OCTOBER 18, 1837. I have now been here one year. The number of my audience has doubled in that time, though the real strength of my society has not increased in that propor- tion. My nerves get shattered a good deal on the Sabbath, and I do not get up again until near the middle of the week. My stint is to write one sermon each week, and during the year I do not think I have missed more than three weeks. 84 FIRST YE Alt IS AT BUFFALO. The old Northfield minister is very kind to lend his aid ; but really the old fellow's sermons need much refitting lie- fore they can appear ; and sometimes his patience is sadly tried when the Buffalo minister seizes his manuscripts and throws them into the fire. The old parson is a strong con- servative, and pleads that the old sermons shall at least be permitted to remain in the drawer ; for he shrewdly suspects the time may come when this smart city minister will be glad to fall back upon them. And generally the city minister per- mits the old Connecticut River homilizer to enjoy his notions ; and when the city upstart thinks he is doing very well, it is amusing to see the half -sceptical grin of the old parson, as much as to say: "After all, that is no better than I used to do." But, Doctor, I assure you the old fellow is vcrv complacent, as he walks along home from meeting after one of his sermons has been preached with some effect, and he was mightily tickled the other day when you wrote that all his senmms were good enough for anybody to hear. "Ay," said he, drawing his hand down over his face and spitting under the fore-stick, "that Dr. Jarvis is a sensible man," and he would have recounted some of your many favorable opinions of his performances ; but looking up he saw the city minister laughing, and came very near swearing right out that he never would permit him to preach another of his sermons as long as he lived. His life goes forward amid journeys abroad and hard work at home, amid public embarrass- Inents and domestic afflictions. In these years there is more sadness than happiness, as the fol- lowing extracts show : JUNE 27, 1839, AT CHICAGO. At Detroit, finding that I should not reach this place in season for my engagement by the "Great Western," I took land conveyance across the DR. HO SHEETS MEMORIAL. 85 State of Michigan, and arrived here Saturday morning. I enjo} T ed the journey. The country is beautiful in most parts. The oak openings abound with little lakes of water sleeping amidst them. The land is not so much of it swampy as I expected. Our audiences here range from eighty to two hundred. MARCH 24, 1840. My society is almost overwhelmed with bankruptcy. They do not, and cannot, pay me all my salary. They owe me more than $1,000, and meantime I am in debt $500. I am beginning to feel the weight of pecuniary embarrassment a new burden to me. We have been detected, we Unitarians, of doing more than any other denomination for free schools. Last week they turned out the superintendent of schools, a Unitarian, and Mr. B., a teacher, may be sent after him, though we hope not. I am honored with the accusation of being one of the founders of a free-school system in this city.' Our system has done well, as you will see by the address which I sent you ; and it was feared the honor of educating the people would come to us. Therefore, at the late charter election, the Unitarians were all turned out, and the schools and all the city business put into the hands of Trinitarians. Such proscription will do us more good than hurt. It is something to be strong enough to be feared. Bigotry is growing rabid, with fear that the heretics will do mischief. SEPTEMBER 2, 1840. Have you seen "The Dial?" and do you know that the " Orphic Sayings " came out of "Uncle Ben " and "Aunt Dinah's" cottage at Concord? Mr. Alcott lives in the cottage, hires a piece of land above "Uncle Ben's " barn, which he cultivates, and besides works for the neighboring farmers for day's wages. At odd seasons he utters " Orphic Sayings." If "Aunt Dinah's " spirit hovers about its old home, and knows what is done there, I doubt not that she gathers what wisdom there is in "Orphic Sayings" with deep reverence. But if "Uncle 8 86 FIBST YEAHS AT BUFFALO. Ben " ever looks in upon the vigils of the spiritualist, he says he is a "condemned fool." "Aunt Dinah" was a spiritualist in her way, but she did not belong to the ' ' Or- phic" species. In regard to all party movements, I am between the fires, catching some light from both. I accept the locofoco theory and the Whig practice. I accept the transcendental spirit and the old-school principle. Dr. Walker has the true ground, I think, in the religious revolution of our denomi- nation, judging by his address at Cambridge. I am grieved to hear good men among the Whigs talk as I heard one a few days ago : " If we fail in electing Harrison this fall, I never will vote in another election." Fie! where are faith, hope, and charity ? I do not believe the Union will be broken if Van Buren is elected, though I hope Harrison will succeed, and shall vote for him. OCTOBER 29, 1840. At home again from Maumee, hav- ing had rough passages up and down the lake. Election comes on next week. My society are earnest, and many of them leading politicians. We have the member of Congress of this district, Fillmore, and the member of the State As- sembly from this city, and the candidate of each party for the coming election for Assembly. We have the postmaster and the candidate for county clerk, who is also clerk of all the courts. At a Whig celebration the other day, the chief marshal, four of his assistants, and the only two Buffalo men who spoke, were of my society ; while we have also the most able and eloquent man of the city, of the Democratic party. Next Sunday I mean to preach to the politicians and try to prepare them for election. I shall not show party colors, but try to present certain moral and religious yiews, that they may go to the polls like true men, in honor, and generosity, and truth. MAY 9, 1842. My parish you would know about. It is much the same that it has been. Universal ruin is the order DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 87 of the day here. My society are many of them bankrupts, and many have left to seek employment elsewhere. If we live, we think much of that. The society owe me about $1,300, and I owe nearly $500. So we stand, hoping for better times. In spirit we are not as we ought to be. Em- barrassments have crushed the hearts of my people, and some are melancholy and some are ill-natured. Others are as good people as can be found anywhere. I pray for a revival. Sometimes my spirit sinks, and I wish that I could conscientiously lay aside the responsibilities of pulpit and parish, take my few dollars and buy me a western farm. I do, indeed. You are behind the age to practice economy. Economy is exploded. If you haven't money, borrow it and take the act. Spread the canvas and catch the breeze. Why, man, you are doting. OCTOBER 31, 1842. I have sorrowful tidings to communi- cate. Our dear little Ella, the youngest of the twins, died last Thursday at one o'clock. She died without a struggle. I never saw death so calm before. For a long time we hoped she would revive ; but no, the sweet little spirit had gone from our sight and left its frail mortal robe in our arms. We kept it as long as we could, it was so beautiful. We could not bear to have it carried away. No sickness had wasted the lines of grace in the dear features. Death fore- bore to fix his haggard seal on so fair a brow. Its color was like alabaster. No statuary was ever so beautiful. We do not accept the beautiful fiction of poetry, that the little ones who die in infancy are cherubs which have lost their way and wandered into this world. No, it is by no such accident that they come. They are sent by God's love as angels, to minister to us, to soften our hearts, to renew sim- plicity of soul, and in their death to idealize our gross life, and open windows in the walls of sense, through which we may look out into the everlasting and up into Heaven. You know, perhaps, that Dr. Kendall has lately made us a FIfttiT YEARS AT BUFFALO. visit. He baptized the little ones. They were carried to church, and a most touching service was that of their bap- tism. The doctor's soul melted into his tremulous voice, and the babes looked sweetly. I held them both in my arms together when the seal of the covenant was fixed upon their brows. And then, as if little Ella had said, "It is finished," the stream of her life sank into the earth, and she vanished from our sight. She lived ten days after the baptism. CHAPTER V. AT MEADVILLE. S has been stated, the removal of Mr. Hos- :iner from Northfield to Buffalo, was due largely to the hope held out to him that a great institution for education would be founded there, in whose establishment and conduct he might be helpful. The hope at Buffalo failed utterly ; but at Meadville, in western Pennsylvania, not far away, a theological school was established soon after his life in western New York began, with which he was connected from its origin, and in which he found some scope for the impulse to instruct and inspire young men, which was always strong within him. It was his habit to spend, every year, a good portion of the month of June at Meadville ; meeting the students daily, and preaching on Sundays to the Unitarian par- ish. It was a part of his year's work, in which he took much delight. lie came to feel the greatest attachment for the friends whom he met there, and worked with the students 'with earnest enthusiasm. He met always a hearty response from the young men, and we cannot better begin the chapter, relating to our father's Meadville 90 AT MEADVILLE. work, than by quoting the words of one of his old pupils, Rev. H. H. Barber, in the Unitarian Review: Among the ministers of our body who have passed away of late, none has been more, variously useful than Rev. Dr. Hosmer; none has impressed himself more strongly upon wide circles of our people, or been held in higher honor and regard among us. His last years of happy and successful pastoral work in New England, made his face and form f amiliar in our churches and conferences here ; and his grand presence, kindling words, and apostolic spirit were felt as an inspiration and a benediction in those larger or narrower circles of our body where he delighted to meet his brethren, and where he was always more than welcome. But, though his work as a minister began as it also ended in the East, the work of his middle years, the main work of his life, was done in what was, when he entered upon it, the new country of the West; and his long pastorate at Buffalo, and his close relations with the Unitarian churches of that region as their adviser and sympathizing friend, and especially as the first and, till his return to New England, the only president of the Western Conference, made his face and voice equally well, if not even better, known to the congregations and assemblies of our faith throughout the West. Dr. Hosmer was always the minister, dignified, gracious ; always suggestive of large and lofty things, even when most playful or occupied with the common details of life. Affa- ble, courteous, with the charm of a kindly heart and a win- ning manner, he was as impressive in the private circle as on the platform or in the pulpit, and carried with him every- where the sense of the serious and important work which he held it the main end of living for him to fulfil. The work of Dr. Hosmer as an educator is perhaps most often associated with Antioch College, where he spent several DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 91 years in the attempt to rescue that institution from the decline into which it had fallen. While he, and these who worked with him, could not compass the impossible, or raise to pros- perity a college which had come to be almost without con- stituency, the young men and women who came under his influence will all bear witness to the value of his services at Antioch, and the deep impress of character made upon them by his presence and work among them. But there is a considerable number of our ministers whose earliest and strongest impression of him was received in the course of their theological studies at Meadville, where he annually came to give the successive classes instruction in the practical administration of the minister's office, or, as he loved to phrase it, " the pastoral care." No man could be more admirably fitted to discourse of these themes to divin- ity students than was Dr. Hosmer. His genial presence and manners ; the inspiring way in which, filling himself with his theme, he poured out from heart and mind the treasures of his study, observation, and experience, as though the work of the ministry were the one great function of life ; his conversations by the way, his apostolic and fatherly addresses in the chapel, his Sunday preaching, made the two weeks of his yearly stay in Meadville memorable in the experience of the quiet student life there, as also memorable in their influence and their remembrance. Then, he knew so well the history and the current state of all our churches East and West, and was so deeply interested in their welfare. He was full of anecdotes of the earlier times, and the mighty men who administered the more set- tled and severer order of that elder period ; just as full, too, of interest and appreciation for the newest denominational enterprise and the latest convert. With what enthusiasm he once described to us, when fresh from a meeting of the Western Conference, the presence at its sessions of a new man from the neighborhood of Philadelphia, an Englishman AT MEADVILLE. and a blacksmith, and a Methodist local preacher, who had come to begin a Unitarian missionary work in Chicago, and who had delighted the Conference exceedingly, except, he said, that perhaps a short course at Meadville might be of service to him in the way of reading hymns. Then, how the work of the minister grew sacred and at- tractive and tremendous, as Dr. Hosmer took up one depart- ment of it after another, and showed it to us in the light of his high conception and his large experience of it! Into scenes almost too sacred or too terrible to be described, where his own pastoral duty had called him, he led his class, to impress the difficulties and the impossibilities of the min- ister's relation to the great experiences of his people, or detailed cases requiring great practical wisdom, tact, or cour- age in the minister to meet and settle rightly. Stores of anecdote and illustration, from the ministerial life of the New England Fathers, and from literature, served to freshen and point the lectures, and many a man has found, in the remembrance of these illustrations, illuminating points for his own practical exigencies, and for some of the most effec- tive of his sermons. A re-reading of some notes, taken down from these lec- tures, reveals the range of their topics, and brings to light pithy and wise sayings, that have helped many young minis- ters to avoid mistakes, and see the path and worth of some difficult duty more clearly. Some of these are embodied in a paper published in this Review five years ago. A few others our readers will be glad to see here. One day, the theme would be of the minister's purpose and method. These he defined as ''Spirituality and Sympathy; coming directly to the souls of men. The originality of Jesus lies more than in anything else in His sympathy with souls, bringing every- thing to the standards of the spirit. Some men are always engaged upon the outworks, and never get in at the citadel DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 93 of the matter. It was the saying of Shepard, that he never preached a sermon without a distinct purpose to save a soul by that effort. The pastor must be everywhere in the parish, his eye on all the parts, making it sure that all are touched by the re- ligious attractions, and keep step to the grand life-march of progress and duty. You will be wanderers on the face of the earth, and there will be great danger of a dissipation of mind and heart. No man can preach as a candidate long and preserve his moral integrity, without a consecration which is truly sub- lime. Keep yourself from the anxiety of pleasing. * * * Then, on coming out of the pulpit, there are trials, on the one side, of foolish and untimely compliment, and, on the other, of seeing all your efforts unappreciated. You will have compliments, and will not know what to do with them. The proper elevation of purpose will save from the little vani- ties of success and the broken-down spirits of ill-success. * * * There is a tendency among our theological young men to avoid the appearance of being ministers. I say, be ministers ; in a modest, yet in a manly way." In another lecture, the outward conditions and relations of the ministry were considered, the advantages and dis- advantages of a permanent settlement, advantages of place, and the best way of forming the pastoral relation. He even asked us to write out a form of letters-missive that he gave us, and the usual method of conducting an ecclesiastical council and ordination services, feeling, properly enough, that, in the rudimentary state of the ecclesiastical sense among our churches, it might avoid awkwardness for us to know the common order of procedure : " For my own part, I have not any sympathy with the spirit that would break down the ancient forms. I think that asking the candidate questions of theology, is an infringe- ment of the spirit of Congregationalism. ' ' 94 AT MEADVILLE. So he sought to be loyal at once to the spirit of order and the spirit of liberty. He loved what little is left of stateliness, in our somewhat bare simplicity of ritual : ' ' The old method of laying on of hands in the conse- crating prayer is sometimes objected to. I confess that my respect for a man's judgment or taste is not heightened by his request that this shall not be done. There is no clanger among us of strengthening superstition. * * * If a man have permanent settlement, he has time to form systematic plans of building up his people. The Methodist revival system is a necessary result of the itinerancy. A settled ministry requires broader culture and more regular and constant study. A poor stick had better be kept moving. Health is to be considered in the decision of where to settle, and adaptedness. God does not take care of him who does not take care of himself. * * * Sometimes men get into waters that are too shallow for them, and appear quite as awkwardly there as when they get in too deep." Still another lecture dealt on the proper distribution of the minister's work, and his plans for doing good: u If the young minister ever feels alone, ever asks, Who is sufficient for these things ? it will be on the morning after his ordination. As soon as he can see through the blue atmos- phere that surrounds him there, let him lay out his work. * * * Beware of calling on all the high families first. Find out all about your people, their opinions, prejudices, relations. * * * It may be well for a young man to keep a record. Find out especially about the children of a family, but the' young minister who pretends great fondness for them, often makes himself very ridiculous. * * * Some pastors have too much book-keeping. The pastor must have methods ; but he must be master of them, not they masters of him. * * * Alas, for the busy minister DR. HOSMER >S MEMORIAL. 95 of myriad methods with no soul to put in them! Dr. Lowell said, ' There must always be a word for the Master.' ' Then, Dr. Hosmer gave us a description of the formal and dreadful pastoral visit of earlier days, and warned us to beware of anything stiff, pretentious, or merely cere- monial in carrying out the religious ends of such visits : u The minister wants to get close to the hearts of his peo- ple. He is to be pitied if he have not tact, and his people arc to be pitied, too. Keep clear of dead routine. One of the best ways to do this is to be looking after special cases, and applying to them specific remedies. The minister is more like a doctor than most people think. It is necessary to be frank, brave, kind, of course. Every minister who has been settled a long time will fear, unless he be a wonderful man, that there are many cases in which he has not done his duty. But, in general, if a minis- ter will be kind and loving, he may be courageous, and can do things which seem at first very hopeless." Then, about recreations : the older generation of ministers had been quite too strict, he thought, but feared that the new generation had sometimes gone too far in an opposite direction. " Ministers had better not dance, or stand on their heads, or perform cart-wheels before their people. We are crea- tures of association, and the cart-wheel association will not help the minister in the pulpit. ' ' Again, the theme would be of pastoral service for the sick and the afflicted. And here Dr. Hosmer opened the sanc- tuary of his experience, and helped the young men to see what, in some marked instances in his experience, wise and tender Christian ministration had been able to do for the suffering, the terrified, and the bereaved. No young man but thought more nobly thenceforward of the pastoral office, and more reverently of the pastor who brought forth these treasures of sacred experience. 96 AT MEADVILLE. In visiting the sick, let the manner be quiet and cheerful : " Beware of carrying gloom into the sick-room. Let the conversation be pithy. Waste no words. Come at the spirit. Get by the body as soon as you can ; that is not your business. Talk of the grand, simple truths. Be care- ful not to have it thought that because you come to talk of spiritual things, there is, therefore, no hope of recovery. Inasmuch as the sickness is depressing, the minister should be hopeful ; better err, if at all, on that side. The minister and physician should labor together, and may help each other. I think that, in most cases, it is best to be frank, and let the patient know exactly his condition. ' ' Great discretion, great firmness, sometimes are needed to do what one's duty requires. " The minister should have his best thoughts in his heart. He must not stick in natural law at such a time. He may talk about that afterwards. * * * You must think what you would say, how you would bear yourself in these scenes. Everything depends on self-possession. Prayer is often all that can be done. It should be very short, and not a useless word. Let the President of the United States alone. Try to give voice to the spirit that cannot pray for itself. When we go to see people in affliction, it is best to let them talk their spirit out. It is a very poor way to help people, to run away with their grief. ' ' Such are some of the thoughts and some of the words, with which this wise and devoted pastor sought to acquaint the young men, who sat before him at Meadville, with the inner and more spiritual demands and possibilities of the minister's work, and to furnish them for its exigencies and opportunities. For a generation, he spoke on these and kindred topics to successive classes ; and it is not the least service of Meadville to our ministery that all its gradu- ates now nearly one-third of all the ministers of our body who are in active service have been sent forth, touched DR. HOSMEE'S MEMORIAL. by the contact of so lofty and gracious a spirit, strengthened and directed for the highest and most difficult services of their calling, by instructions from a judgment and experi- ence so wise and well-poised, so serious and full. Up to this time, Dr. Hosmer has been the only professor of pas- toral care at Meadville, continuing his regular visits and courses to the very last year before the end of his life. We are told that his last visit when, too feeble to climb to his usual lecture-room in Divinity Hall, he gathered the young men about him in the home where he was staying was especially full of interest and impressiveness. The school has always had his loving interest and his best services. Founded in sacrifices and a deep sense of the needs of the newer portions of the country to hear the Unitarian gospel, Dr. Hosmer' s counsels and efforts were, from the outset, given without stint for its establishment and progress. And such success as it has had, he was a most efficient helper to secure. To found it and further the ends it was founded to advance was, indeed, his reason for removing from his pleasant New England settlement in Northfield to the untried experiences and the then severe isolation of his station in Buffalo. His work in this institution abides in the gratitude and veneration of many whose course he helped to clear and brighten, and in much of the best they have been able to accomplish. May it find a worthy successor there ; and all the departments of the school he loved and served so long and well, be carried on with added efficiency and usefulness through the fuller resources and endowment, which its friends are seeking to secure for it ! Mr. Hosmer' s love for Meadville is well shown in the following paper, contributed to the Monthly Religious Magazine for August, 1851 : For some reason, I can hardly tell what, no previous 9 MEADTILLE. summer has ever moved my heart like this. It is not more beautiful than other summers have been; but its scenes have a strange voice, a new language. I hear, as I never did before, day unto day uttering speech, and night unto night showing knowledge. I hear the heavens declaring the glory of God; and in the firmament I behold His handi- work ; and the earth is full of His riches. For some reason, I stand amidst God's works this summer, with a deeper S3 r mpathy with the all-sustaining Spirit than I have ever felt before. It may be owing to the progress of years. When the impatience and little ambitions of youth have passed away, there is a calm thoughtfulness that usually succeeds, which very naturally leads to a higher appreciation of the moral influences of nature. Youth, in its eagerness, hurries from object to object ; it cannot stay to become quiet, and be impressed by nature's influence; but I am inclined to attribute my unwonted impressions to my residence for two or three weeks here in the country, in the midst of nature. At the risk of egotism, let me describe the scenes around me, and some of the thoughts and emotions which they have suggested. Imagine a village lying amidst high hills ; the hills shaped in beauty, and covered with forests, cultivated fields, and pastures. Two streams find their ways among the hills, and, uniting their waters at the north-western edge of the landscape, flow gently through the village. Every- where is verdure : the town lies amidst the rich foliage. On the east and west are hills that might be called mountains : their summits perhaps three hundred feet high, and a mile and a half asunder. You see this landscape, the deep valley, the winding stream, the wooded hill-tops, the sloping fields and pastures, with grain, and flocks, and herds. It is not strange that the presence of God should be felt in such a scene. It is in nowise superior to a thousand others in our country; but it is very lovely ; the Maker's smile seems to rest upon it ; and in the air, fragrant with flowers and vocal DR. HOUMEB^S MEMORIAL. 99 with the songs of birds, His benediction is whispered to the eu-s of His children. And now, laying all the rest of tl e world out of mind, what a home is this which the Father has made for His children who dwell in this beautiful vale ! We fill our rooms with pictures ; but behold what pictures the Almighty has placed all around this landscape! What blending of sweet beauty and noble grandeur! And then consider that each day brings variety ; vegetation advances ; sunlight and shade, sky and cloud, hot noon and cool even- ing, are sent to perform their ministries. Seed-time and harvest keep their appointment. The pastures are covered with flocks, the valleys are filled with corn ; they shout for joy, they also sing. One evening, as the sun was sinking low, I climbed up to the summit of the western mountain : the village lay at my feet ; a deep shade was upon all the slope I had ascended, and where I stood ; but upon the village, and on the opposite mountain, the evening sun was still pouring his rays. As I gazed upon the scene the shadow slowly extended from the foot of the mountain on which I stood and crept over stream, and grove, and village, and verdant slope, and then up the mountain-side ; it did not seem to move, and yet it did ; and, as the sun sank lower and lower, tree after tree was sunk in the ascending shadow, until the light of the last ray faded from the mountain's top. It was a scene to touch the heart, to make one weep. Tranquillity seemed to be coming down out of heaven from God to His children, and all so gently, so gradually ! The mother watching around her sick child, as evening approaches, steps softly about its couch, and draws the curtains, and hushes every noise, and tries to court sleep to come, and give rest to the little fevered sufferer. And here, with an infinite tenderness, the Father appeared all so gently and gradually withdrawing the light of day and throwing the shade of night over these homes of His children. Thev were troubled and wearv, and He AT MEADVILLE. soothed them to rest ; indeed, it seemed as if He was near, saying to His children, to the world everywhere, " Good night! peace be with you!" Oh, there is a meaning in the close of day, which thousands never appreciate. It reveals the tender, loving care of the Father. And then, it brings to us solemn warnings : as the shade of evening creeps over the world, so will the shade of death one day fall upon our sight, and put a period to all our plans and labors. Hardly less impressive is the morning scene of nature. How gently the Father wakes His sleeping children ! The hushed repose of night is not rudely broken ; gradually the breaking light gathers upon the edge of the horizon ; it rises into the eastern sky, and he who gazes upon that coming glory may feel the significance of a poet's speech, who com- pares the bright beams shooting above the eastern hills, her- alding the sun, to the advancing spears of an approaching army ; an army of light coming to conquer and disperse the powers of darkness. But I love best to recognize the Father's smile in that breaking morning light. It talks not to me of spears and armies, but of heavenly benignity com- ing with benedictions to rouse the sleeping children of earth from their slumbers, and give to them a new day. Oh! think of it when the light comes so gently to your window, and with devout gratitude rise, and accept the gift the Father brings to you. Another scene has moved me deeply, as I have dwelt among these hills. It was the Sabbath-day. A long suc- cession of fair weather had parched the surface of the earth, and dried up the little streams. Man and beast and plant longed for moisture. In the afternoon, when the heat was becoming most oppressive, the clouds gathered over us, and a gentle, copious shower came down to bless the earth and its inhabitants. A sweet sense of God's presence took full possession of my heart. It was an hour to be remembered. It seemed as if Heaven were pouring down mercies upon the D1L HOtiMER'ti MEM011IAL. 101 earth. I could sympathize with the devout Psalmist. While I meditated upon his words, Jehovah seemed to be riding on a chariot of clouds, and watering the hills from his cham- bers, and filling the brooks in every valley, and all things seemed instinct with joy and gratitude: the little vine lifted up its head, the tall forest-tree gathered itself up in its full height and glory. The valleys shouted for joy ; they also sang, and the hills rejoiced on every side. I had witnessed many a summer shower as beautiful and as timely as this, but never before, under similar influences, had I been so pervaded and subdued by a sense of God's goodness and love. All must admire the wisdom and power displayed in watering the earth. And is it not strange, that we are so seldom subdued by the goodness and love? The shower passed away, a brilliant rainbow surmounted the eastern hills, the sun sank in the west, and amidst the freshness of nature, in the calm evening twilight, we gathered in the village church for divine worship. Was it strange that I felt the meaning of the words, " Lo ! God is here " ? It was a holy hour; the heart was in that service. And when our prayers and praises had been offered for the even- ing sacrifice, and we came forth into the presence of the clear, still night-heavens, the moon in full orb pouring her silvery light upon stream and field and forest-hills, it seemed as though Heaven and earth could hardly keep silent; the beautiful glory proclaimed plainer than words could utter it, " Behold the riches of the Father's goodness." What long- suffering mercy! How love strives to win unworthy chil- dren to obedience ! I have spoken of one little spot of earth; and poorly enough I have described how God visits it and dwells in it, in his unbounded, glorious goodness and love. But that spot, though in some respects a favored one, only shares with all the earth the Father's loving presence. What a world the Creator has given us to dwell in ! What wonders 102 AT MEADV1LLE. of magnificence and convenience come to us in the circuit of every day ! We slumber upon the constancy of our bless- ings. Could we be waked out of nothingness, with faculties complete, and the scenes of a day, morning, noon, evening, and midnight, pass before us, how should we admire the gift and praise the Giver ! To complete the chapter the following paper is added, contributed to the Unitarian Review for December, 1876 : THE PASTORAL CARE. SOME REMINISCENCES OF INSTRUCTION AT MEADVILLE. One of the brightest ministers among us has said: " We want no lectures upon the pastoral care ; they are an imper- tinence." There are books upon the subject, and methods of treating it, that have almost made me think so sometimes. Sciences, languages, schools of literature, histories, interpre- tation of the Scriptures, must be taught. There must be books and lectures to aid the student. Things unknown must be sought out. But the pastoral care all lies in open daylight. It is the friendly help a man may give his neigh- bors, touching their spiritual wants and needs, in prosperity and adversity, joy and sorrow ; and it may be thought that a man of good common sense, with Christ in his heart, lov- ing God and his neighbor, can hardly go wrong. The pastor, to be successful, must be a warm-hearted, whole-souled, religious man. He must have force of will, that he may be strength to the weak ; he must be well poised in his life, that he may be a balance-wheel in his parish ; he must have resources, depth and breadth of capacity, and attainment above the average about him. He needs to be a man of worth, significance, and power. DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 103 There is an idea, with some, that there is no sphere for power in the pastoral duty ; that the pulpit requires strength and genius, but that the pastoral work may be done by any active, sympathetic, good-natured man of pleasant manners. And such an one may render valuable service in many ways ; but the greatest pastoral efficiency requires the highest qualities of character. An ordinary man may be a good preacher, may have learning and fluency, and interest great assemblies, but the ordinary man cannot go into an afflicted family, and stand face to face with the soul in its anguish without showing his weakness. The ordinary man cannot stand up in his parish in a great moral emergency and be the lode-star of principle, and the preponderating will for right. The ordinary man cannot go to the individuals of his parish needing conversion and quickening, and put the power of his own spirit into their souls. Said a leading man in one of our New England parishes, to me, when he was afraid his minister would remove to an- other parish, '"I know not what I should do. I have had doubts and distrust of religion and of ministers ; but this man I can trust. I know him. He is genuine ; his words and life are one ; he can lead me along. Others could preach as well, better than he ; but he has come close to me and I know he is trustworthy." An ordinary, poorly furnished, unbalanced minister could not have made that man feel as he did. It is indeed no small thing to preach to such men as John Adams, with his grand rationality, or to Thomas Jefferson, with his fine mind warped with Calvinistic dogmas; but many might do very well preaching to such men, who would utterly fail to meet them as pastors in trying hours. The pastor can do without genius, or extraordinary compass of power ; but he must have sense and judgment ; he must be profoundly religious, and able to meet his people on the higher planes of their, experience. The farmer, the me- 304 AT MEADVILLE. chanic, the lawyer, the physician, will be more readily drawn to a minister who is not ignorant of things in their spheres. But especially the pastor needs to have a genuine manliness. He is to come close to people, meet them face to face, eye to eye ; canting insincerity or weak sentiment- alism will not do ; he must have earnest thought, and his heart full of sympathy from the head-springs, love to God, and love to man. No matter how much genius, learn- ing, science, the more the better; but sense, judgment, Christian manliness there must be, and profound, vivid re- ligious conviction and feeling. What need of lecturing, indeed, I am sometimes ready to say, on pastoral work? Put a really earnest man into a parish, a man with Christ in his heart, and he would go to work and do the right things, and do them in the right way. The waters of the mountain-spring need no lectures, when to flow nor which way ; they must flow, and will make channels ; and verdure and beauty will tell of their onward course from the mountain to the sea. So the pastor, brimming full of consecrated purpose, will live and move, and bless his parish every day. But we want the mountain-springs. In- fluence, like water, can not rise higher than its head. We are slow to accept this. Only think of the ways devised to make streams of influence run up hill! What burdens of pretension, falsehood, hypocrisy ! What laying hold of de- grees, letters of recommendation, official names, garments, insignia ! But nothing will do. A weak, insignificant man can not be a mountain-spring, do what you will for him ; you may lecture him until you and he are gray ; you may ordain him, give prefix and suffix to his name ; you may put a mitre on his head, and crosier in his hand, and cover him with holy garments, and yet you can not make his influence rise and stay one inch above his head. In our Protestant and liberal churches this is especially true. Counterfeits are soon detected. Shams can not stand a month. The de- DE. IIOSMEB'S MEMORIAL . 105 mand for genuineness is imperative. The fear of being im- posed upon among us is morbid ; and some conscientious men, whom we might suppose to be among the best of the Savior's followers, will not say they are Christians, or that in any common way they believe in God. We want ministers to be mountain-springs especially in their pastoral labors. Reservoirs and cisterns will not do so well. A sermon written out of a reservoir, however well filled, is not promising ; but reservoir sermons do better than reservoir pastoral influence. The pastor needs to be a strong, full, quickening man, so charged with electric vitality that virtue goes out of him on touching but the hem of his garments. A clear-headed, discerning man once told me, that the only time he ever met Dr. Channing, and heard him speak, was in the house of one of the doctor's parishioners, just after a member of the family had ceased to breathe ; and, said he, ' ' I saw how great he was ; and not from what he said so much as from what he did not say ; no commonplace words, not much about the scene of the departure ; but a few grand expressions, with the coloring and emphasis of his rich soul, carried them all into the depths of immortality. He seemed at home there." To do the pastor's work effectually, ministers must have this superior tone and quality. They must carry about a heavenly presence ; living simply, in great truth and prin- ciples, and in great love. If they only have this life in them it will have power and quicken all around. Think of Christ moving about Nazareth, Galilee, Judaea. What pastoral labors, and how their influence was felt! His words in the temple were grand and inspiring. There, as a preacher, He rose to the great occasion. " If any man thirst, let him come unto me and drink." Then, think of Jesus in the home of Bethany ; it is a pastoral visit. Behold the Master ! His superior influence was like water from a mountain- 106 AT MEADVILLE. spring, and the thoughtful Mary sat at His feet and heard His words. Or again, think of Jesus in the house of Simon, where the woman anointed his feet, and that sharp colloquy took place between Simon and Jesus ; or again, when the Jews came to him about taxes to Caesar, and with other perplex- ing questions, all this was in the sphere of pastoral work. Every pastor must expect to meet inquisitive, critical, doubt- ing minds ; and keen discernment, positive conviction, large resources, will be indispensable. Jesus, as he went about doing good, with sharp sense disposing of obstacles thrown in his way, and with such admirable wisdom answering diffi- cult questions, overcoming evil with good, and drawing the unprejudiced common people to his side, towers in great- ness quite as much as when uttering the sermon on the Mount. I always shrink uneasily as I begin to talk to young men about the ways and fiieans of pastoral work. If the spring of sympathy and power be not in them, it will do little good to talk about ways and means. Alas for the busy minister of myriad methods, with no soul to put in them ! And if the minister has the power in him, who can doubt that it will work out? And again, I always have some fear of ob- structing free activities in others, by my ways and means. We are unlike in our aptitudes, and in a large sense every one works best in his own methods. I would not give my ways and means, certainly not to impose them as a law. I would hope that all have in them the head-springs that must flow and will find ways. But to fix attention upon the sub- ject of pastoral influence, to think of it in its various lights, can hardly fail to do good. In this the teacher's office is to perfect the conditions of self -teaching. I must insist that the importance of pastoral work and the power it requires is underrated. The pulpit is conspicu- ous and exacting, and takes the best time and strength. It DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 107 should be so. The pulpit must be filled with power, or it will not have hearers. The pulpit is the minister's throne, and yet some of the most successful ministers have done as much out of the pulpit as in it. Like Dr. Tuckerman, they have originated great spiritual forces in the homes of their parishes, and in society all about them. They are stronger as men and workers than as preachers. It is certain that no man can preach grandly until as a pastor he can carry his parish into the pulpit. In the homes and hearts of the parish he gets inspiration. The earnest pastor writes his sermons with his people before him, and when he goes to the pulpit the heart of the congregation touches his. Deep calleth unto deep. Theological lectures, philosophical disquisitions may be written by a minister who has not learned the roads and by-paths of his parish, but sermons out of the heart and soul, and reaching heart and soul, grow out of love, sympathy, and anxious solicitude for parish- ioners. Said a wise minister, ' ' What shall I do for sermons to preach abroad? Mine are full of my own parish." No minister can preach as well as he might without the pastoral care. What is the pastoral care of a parish? It is all that vari- ous service which gives unity, organic life, and spiritual interest to all the members. The parish, comprising all ages, conditions, and varieties of human nature, needs to be a unit, and have a hearty esprit de corps. And this unity must be an organized whole. There is a unity in a mass of earth, in a flock of sheep, or herd of cattle. A parish must be a fuller, richer unity of free natures, each held in place, and all moved in harmonious activities by love to God and man, a Christian commonwealth. The pastor must be everywhere in the parish, his eye on all the parts, making it sure that all are touched by the religious attractions, and keep step to the grand life-march of progress and duty. The pastor needs a quick eye, a cunning hand, a sound dis- cretion. 108 AT MEAD VILLE. And now a thought about ways and means. No one need go over the sea to Germany, nor to the depths of speculation at his wit's ends, to be told just liow the pastor should work, or what he should do. Of course he must get acquainted with his parish, with families and individuals. They all are his family. The Catholic Church calls all her ministers, even the youngest, father. Protestantism has no name so significant as this. The timid young minister would soon be able to bear it ; and it might make him venerable as gray hair. It might be a good plan for a minister to keep a parish record, if he had a place where no eye but his would ever see it, in which every family and person should be journal- ized. Such a record might secure careful observation of character and thorough knowledge of persons; and there would be leaves of such a record full of interest. Some pastors have too much book-keeping. They make a record of every parochial visit ; go round their parish once or twice a year as regularly as the minute-hand goes round the dial of a watch, and about as mechanically. He must avoid favoritism ; his heart must be too large and sympathetic for fastidious, dainty friendships. Christ sat at meat with publicans and sinners ; so said the Jews. His charity took all humanity into its arms. Alas for the minister who is so dapper in his tastes and blind with his prejudices as not to see a good heart, if under a coarse dress or behind awkward manners ! With thorough acquaintance with his people, the minister will see cases that need treatment. Here is a young man playing with temptation, putting a serpent into his bosom. There is a business man digging his grave, about to bury himself in worldliness. There is a woman so cumbered with much serving, so overwhelmed with factitious wants, that her soul's life is worried out. Such cases all about him the pastor sees ; and he should take them one after another into special treatment ; always having one or more, and fol- lowing up his efforts persistently as long as there is hope. DE. HOSMEE'S MEMORIAL. 109 Here is a leaf from a pastor's record, whose quickening spirit and successful work was a guiding light to me: "In the year 1838 a young physician moved into my parish. He came from a neighboring town, where he had been in practice a few years. I had often heard of him, a young man of fine ability, good manners, and considerable culture, very sure to be eminent in his profession. But he was sceptical. With much pride of opinion he loved to talk about Christi- anity, bring objections to it, and hold arguments with those who would stand up its advocates. I felt concerned for my parish. I saw that such a man might do great injury to the young people, and through them to a whole generation. His winning address, quick wit, and withering sarcasm made him dangerous, a wolf in my fold. But I would not meet him as a wolf, but as an interesting, gifted young man, whose early influences had hurt his vision, warped his sense and judgment. I sought his acquaintance, made my way to his heart, won his respect and confidence. I took time to meet him as often as I could find opportunity. I avoided controversy about religion, lest he should brace and fortify himself against me. I hoped he might come to me and voluntarily open his heart. Months passed. At length one Monday morning, going by his office, I saw him sitting alone, and called upon him. He looked up out of his thoughtful mood and said, ' You are the very man I want to see. Yesterday you gave us the best argument for the reality of religion that I ever met. Sit down here and tell me just how these things bear upon your soul.' I did not know what he meant, and said, ' Why, I made no argument yesterday.' * Yes,' said he, i you did. In the close of your morning sermon, in your appeal to us to live more religiously, you looked as if you should die if we did not. That look touched me as no argument ever did. That look was an argument. Now, tell me all about your foundations and experience.' The door into his soul was open to me. I 10 110 AT MEADVILLE. entered in, and led him to points of view that were new to him. I helped him to see religion, Jesus, God, immortality, and duty in new lights. He became interested ; his scep- ticism gave way, and grand, vital beliefs strengthened his soul. He became a member of our Christian communion, and a helper to his pastor in all good works." The pastor goes to the sick and the dying to tell them of the soul that can live in its immortality, despite the body's ills and dissolution. He goes with words of Jesus, with hymn and psalm ; and he must go with his soul in his eyes, and his heart on his lips, and each hand a good Samaritan. A father and son were ministers in distant parishes. The son made a record of best thoughts that he might have them to help him in last moments, when too weak to think and get above the body's anguish. At length the son was sum- moned to his father's death-bed. He found the old man sinking away. The father grasped his son's hand and said, " Oh, give me a great thought to sustain me in this agony !" and the son read to him from the little book he had written, "Best Thoughts for Last Moments." The pastor should go to the sick, the weary, the sinking ones, with great thoughts, every one a shining angel to help and cheer. That beseech- ing cry, *' Give me a great thought to sustain me," indicates a want in hours of sickness and decline which a pastor must strive to meet. He must try to lift up the sinking soul fet- tered and weighed down by the sick body. He must go with the dying down to the dark valley, helping them to see lights all along and up beyond ; so that it may be no longer the dark valley of the shadow of death. The pastor should be a man, among men. He should have a pilot's eye upon the ocean of life, and be enough acquainted with business, politics, statesmanship, to know'where truth and right lie, and be ready to speak for them, or if need be, with much loss to give himself to them. But the pastor may meddle unwisely, and stir up strife and bitterness. DE. t HOSMER ' S MEMORIAL . Ill Alas for those who love to live in a storm, or who go about seeking a martyr's crown! Yet, on the other hand, what temptations in troubled times to dodge, and hide, and lie, and try to keep peace by giving up truth and right to be crucified! Our Scylla and Charybdis are very close to- gether almost touch. May God help us to find the way between them ! The pastor has other opportunities less perilous ; he can enlighten ignorance and prevent and alleviate poverty ; he can touch the minds and hearts of the young, and open ways and means to the weak and unworldly. The schools need him, and the teachers will welcome his sympathy and aid. Officially he may have work of examination and supervision, very delicate and arduous, at the vitals of public life, requir- ing large intelligence and high principle. No ordinary per- son can be the best school committee man. And if the min- ister be not officially connected with schools, as a citizen he should seek them ; never to 'touch a sectarian spring, but to awaken life in teachers and scholars, to break the routine, to open windows and let in light ; by short, pithy addresses to give glimpses of the stores of knowledge ; or better still, to enliven the school hours with flashes of imagination, or words of fine sentiment and spirituality. By such visiting of schools, cordially helping the teachers, who long for just such aid and sympathy, the minister can get into the hearts of the young, and have a wide, beneficent reign, though denomina- tionally his sphere is limited. I know a minister in a West- ern city, who preaches to a small congregation ; but thou- sands of children have seen and heard him in their schools, and know and love him, and so his influence goes out to the ends of the world. Again, the pastor must grapple this difficult subject of poverty and its consequences ; he must seek those who have failed in life's competitions, or who never have been able even to try to compete, and have shrunk back into shadowed 112 AT MEADVILLE. loneliness. Such ones are everywhere, though most in cities and larger villages, and generally they have no close relations with any church, perhaps never had; or they have fallen out of company and sympathy ; all such ones every minister should consider as of his parish, and if possible win the children to his Sunday-school, and so get the parents there and to church. Sympathy can do it, and will prompt to finding ways and means. Sympathy can take out the sting of poverty and do more to cure the dreadful plague of pau- perism than any millions of wealth. Here is a most interest- ing field for pastoral labor. Neglected poverty, chronic pauperism, sin in all its descending grades, demand the pas- tor's help. By the pulpit the evils cannot be reached ; the pastor must go to them ; he will need all the economies, and shrewd common sense, and a tender heart. Jesus shows the way. The pastor has only to keep close to him. Passing over much that I would not take time to speak of, which perhaps is too plain to every one's common sense to need to be spoken of, all about a pastor's ways, and means, and plans to do good, visits, circulating quickening books, Bible-classes, it is to be remembered that the pas- tor's peculiar sphere is the homes of his parish. His own home should be a model. A bad home in the parsonage close by the church will spoil the effect of never so good sermons. The parsonage should give the key-note in simplicity, refine- ment of taste and manners, a loving harmony, religious spirit, and a wise Christian helpfulness. Happy the parish that has a home in the parsonage where heaven and earth meet in unison ! Finally, in a word, let me set up the ideal pastoral influ- ence. I see it symbolized in this picture so often seen in our houses, of Dante and Beatrice. In her translation by death to spiritual life she became to the poetic eye of his mind the beau ideal of a divine holiness; and while she, looking to the Father, rose nearer, nearer to His excellence, DE. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 113 he, looking up to her, rose nearer, nearer, both ascending towards the highest. Her eyes fast fixed on the eternal wheels, Beatrice stood unmoved ; and I with ken Fixed upon her Words may not tell of that transhuman change ; And therefore let example serve, though weak, For those whom Grace has better things in store. Happy that parish which is drawn by loving sympathy to their pastor, while he is constantly ascending into all the sweet and mighty sanctities of earth and heaven, alluring to brighter worlds, and leading the way ! CHAPTER VI. LIFE AT BUFFALO. IHE annual visit to Meadville was only a pleasant episode in the steady, toilsome life at Buffalo. As years passed, they brought to the isolated minister the usual double freight of joy and pain. He had reason to feel that in spite of opposition and rebuff, which, as was said, made it ' ' lucky that the little church had a stone face," he was winning a fair success. To a re- markable degree his congregation, as has been seen, was formed of leading minds, whose respect he was able to retain. It was often the case that strangers of distinction, passing by more preten- tious and popular churches, came to worship with the Unitarians. John Quincy Adams writes in his diary : OCTOBER 29,1843, BUFFALO. Mr. Fillmore offered us seats in his pew at the Unitarian Church, which we ac- cepted. The preacher was Mr. Hosmer, Matt. vi:31. An excellent and eminently practical sermon. Even at an earlier time a lawyer of high repu- tation, who also earned much fame in Congress, a devoted Episcopalian, who, however, became a frequent hearer of Mr. Hosmer, and was his firm 116 LIFE AT BUFFALO. friend, was heard to say : "I am not a Unitarian, and I think I never shall be ; but if I am to be converted to that doctrine, it will be by Mr. Hosmer's preaching. I probably have heard stronger men, and more learned men, but I have never heard the theological argument presented so fairly and clearly, and in a way so nearly to convince me of its truth, as by him." While he could interest acute and powerful minds, he was never unmindful of the poor and feeble. He was frequently approached with reference to settlement, by churches East and West. In the circumstances in which he found himself, it would not have been strange if he had listened. The hopes by which he had been flattered at his coming had utterly failed. The University scheme had collapsed; the city which had seemed likely to become a metropolis, was for years sunk in an abyss of financial ruin ; the people who had so confidently invited him, were in every way broken in means and spirit. It is scarcely strange that in his letters a strain of discourage- ment, sometimes of bitterness, appears. With a persistency, however, which came to him perhaps in his blood from his ancestry, he held fast to his position in the feeling that he was in the place where he could be most useful. As time proceeded, the great struggle between North and South went swelling forward year by DE. HOSMER 1 S MEMORIAL. 117 year toward its bloody culmination. Few minis- ters were placed in a more embarrassing situation as the conflict grew intense, than Mr. Hosmer. In his congregation were strong partisans from each of the opposing sides, conspicuous figures some of them in the State and the country at large. In his own conviction he was fast anchored, but with the candor of his nature he felt the strongest obligation to do full justice to all sides. His caution, his judicial temper, his courage and for- bearance, his loyalty to his own conscience, were all put to the sharpest test in those years of in- creasing turmoil. More than once he was con- demned fiercely in the camp of progress, as pusil- lanimous and time-serving ; more than once in the camp of the conservatives he was denounced as one of the feather-brained extremists, ready to plunge the country into blood for something un- attainable. There have been those, and there are no doubt now those, who, comparing Mr. Hos- mer' s ministry at Buffalo with that of some min- isters of " abolition'' views, will feel that the former's service comes sadly short. " The thing that I have against you," said a brusque and candid friend to Mr. Hosmer once, "is that you did not drive the man who signed the Fugi- tive Slave Law out of your congregation." Mr. Hosmer was perfectly unflinching and outspoken in his anti- slavery views, though indeed he could 118 LIFE AT BUFFALO. never stand with the party whose motto was that the Constitution of the United States ' 'was a cove- nant with Death and an agreement with Hell." If he failed to drive Mr. Fillmore out of his con- gregation, it was not because he was at all reticent before the President. He not only spoke his dis- approval, but emphasized it in deed, voting squarely against Mr. Fillmore, when at length he came up as a candidate for another term. It is a fact most creditable to Mr. Fillmore that he was not estranged by his pastor's honest disap- proval, never withdrawing his friendship even in the face of differences so grave ; as, on the other hand, it is creditable to the minister that he rec- ognized and did justice to substantial goodness in his parishioner, even while in the difficult crisis he seemed to swerve. At last in the quieter years, after the mighty God had sat in judgment upon the issue amid thunder and flame, when the time came for the man who as ruler of the nation had been silent in the hour that demanded defiance and denunciation, to descend into the grave, the minister spoke as follows : Friends, my heart turns to its old home at Buffalo, and to the late departures there of President Fillmore and his Postmaster-General, Judge Nathan K. Hall. I knew them well, my parishioners as they were for thirty years. I did not always agree with their policy. I dissented utterly from the Fugitive Slave Bill, which was put forward in hope to save the country from civil war, Mr. Fillmore saying to me when DE, HO SHEETS MEMORIAL. 119 I protested against it: " It is better to do that than that half the nation should be butchered." They erred. It was terrible for Mr. Fillmore to come to the head of the govern- ment at that time. He meant to be fair ; though the South was imperious, he would do them full justice. He dreaded war; by any and every means he would save his country from such calamity as war must bring. When Congress, by a large majority, passed the Fugitive Slave Bill, then for the sake of peace he thought it best to sign it. Now all can see, and some saw it then, it was only postponing the horror. First there must be righteousness and then peace. Some things are worse than war. Slavery is worse, and if we can be rid of this, we will bear patiently the sorrows of the war it caused. But I know that Mr. Fillmore was honest, unspotted by corruption, and never thought of the nation's capital as a place to make money or satisfy selfish ambition. No goods of the nation clung to him ; his hands were clean. Integrity and economy kept him safe. A letter that he wrote to me when he suddenly found himself at the head of the govern- ment, reveals the strong earnestness with which he took up his great duty. In serious words he said how deeply he felt his dependence upon God, and with all his heart sought his guidance. His domestic character was quite remarkable. He loved his home. When absent at Albany, or later at Washington, he wrote a letter to his wise and excellent wife every day. Once she said she was not receiving her daily letter, for her husband, being the Chairman of the Commit- tee of Ways and Means, found time to write only every other day. A daily letter to a wife at home would do something to purify life at Washington. As the controversy deepened, Mr. Hosmer, while outspoken, tried to moderate and reconcile until the crisis came. 120 LIFE AT BUFFALO. His disposition led him to hold fast to the Aristotelian wisdom, that the good is to be found in a golden mean, between extremes. Such was the attitude he preferred to occupy before great public questions ; such, too, was his position in Theology. He once wrote : Without being offensively dogmatic, I am decisively a liberal Christian ; and I take pains to set forth Christianity, distinguished from Orthodoxy oh the one side, and from sceptical criticism and chronic doubt on the other. I am standing between the two fires of arrogant assumption of the old theology, and of the trenchant denials of new science, yet not burned by either fire, and with plenty of room be- tween the extremes for all reverent and reasonable believers.* His moderation, however, did not cripple his power to act. In public matters, in the time of decision, he threw himself into the struggle with ardor. Two sons, with his approval and God- speed, enlisted in the ranks, one of whom, the Benjamin of his household, died the death of a soldier. The blood of the fighting stock from whom he was descended beat high in his own veins, and even in his sixtieth year he had seri- ous thoughts of marching to the front with a regiment. In the correspondence that follows, his spir- * Every wise man shuns both excess and defect; he seeks for the mean and chooses that. Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, II: 6. DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 121 itual history is in a measure revealed, as he passes on through middle life, to the threshold of old age, the discouragements he encountered, the temptations he resisted, the sacrifices he made, the phases of life which passed under his view, the calm wisdom which was coming to be his possession. Enough is given, it is believed, to delineate the features of the man, now in his full maturity. AUGUST 26, 1843. I heard a short time ago that Samuel Eliot, who is chairman of the parish committee at King's Chapel, said that he was ashamed of a class of ministers who were striving to force themselves upon the notice of that society as candidates. It seemed as if they cared for nothing but to stand in the highest place and receive a large salary. I am ashamed of men who suffer themselves to be settled in a parish to make their position a watch-tower from which they may descry eligible situations. Save me from 'such suspicion! Whether I shall spend my life here or not is quite uncertain. On account of the boys I should be glad to live in the midst of better influences, but I shudder at the very thought of changing parishes. The old wounds of my last change are not yet healed. It would be well for this parish to get a better man, but they could not afford to get a worse one. FEBRUARY 22, 1846. Last summer I was at Chicago, and they gave me a call to come there and minister to their church. I consulted some of my particular friends and told them if there was any feeling of dissatisfaction to let me know it, and I would go to Chicago, where they would welcome me, and where I might be very useful ; but I was assured that all was well, and that to leave would be inflict- U 122 LIFE AT BUFFALO. ing an injury upon this parish. S I returned a negative answer to Chicago. Within a month I have heard that I shall have a call to Cincinnati', but I do not like removals. As to money affairs, you know my salary here was at first $1,500. I put it down to $1,200 after two years, then down to $1,000, because the times were hard, the parish straitened, and the same money would go further than when I came here. I moved in the diminution each time, and the parish rather unwillingly acquiesced. Last summer the parish moved in raising my salary. JANUARY 13, 1848. For my part I make no books. It does' not seem to be my forte, and therefore it is, I suppose, I get no time. I am sometimes invited to publish something, but I decline, and I am so far away from our periodicals that I am not drawn into them ; so I am silent as far as the press is concerned. I suppose that my pulpit is the boldest on the subjects of war, peace, temperance, and slavery, in western New York. I have drawn up a memorial to Con- gress to put an end to the Mexican war, and it is now receiving signatures: "We, the subscribers, citizens of Buffalo, in the State of New York, believing the war is destructive to the morals and welfare of all concerned in it, and that Christian men should not consent to it except in the very last extremity for the defence of life and liberty, do earnestly and respectfully petition that an end be put to the unhappy war with Mexico, as speedily as possible." JANUARY 22, 1851. I am sick of the selfishness of parties. I can train in none of their companies, and so am on my own hook. I would bear almost anything for to-day and to-morrow if, meantime, any hope were given me that the evil of slavery was to cease. I would bear, to save the country from ruin. But I foresee ruin coming from the continuance of slavery. In fifty years, if continued, it will destroy us, overwhelm the South and us with them. This cry of peace and do nothing I fear will end in evil. DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 123 My friends at Washington have been trying to make me independent in pecuniary affairs, and how do you think they proposed to do it ? They have offered me a chaplaincy in the navy, which would give me $800 a year, and I stay here and be pastor of my parish as now. Or, if I pleased, I might be appointed to some pleasant squadron service for a year, see the world, and have a respite, receiving the full pay of a chaplain, some $1,500 a year; but I have declined. I have but one short life to give to any service, and I shall not give that to the army or navy. Nor will I have my name upon the rolls of the navy though by suffering even this I might never go near a ship of war and get $800, at least during this administration. I do not expect to do my country any signal s'ervice, but I will not take public money for doing nothing. I suppose my friends think me a fool ; well, I can bear that. At this time his salary barely supported his family ; his own health he felt to be insecure ; five children, the oldest just ready to go to Cam- bridge, were to be educated and started in life. The opportunity, however, was sacrificed with- out a moment's hesitation. MARCH 3, 1851, AT WASHINGTON. I find a world of things and people here to be seen and studied, and I have had a fine opportunity. I have stayed with Judge Hall, Postmaster-General, but am often at the President's, quite familiarly. I have seen the lions, and they are cer- tainly not what at a distance they seem. This is the last night of the session. Congress will be in a hurly-burly all night, and I intend to see the affray. The House is a dis- grace to the country, so noisy and disorderly I can scarcely follow the course of their proceedings. I shall be here one or LIFE AT BUFFALO. two weeks longer, then return directly home. My preaching here has been very favorably received. Many distinguished persons have come to worship with us from all parts of the Union. Maine, Missouri, South Carolina met together. I had the pleasure of waiting upon two aged men to Wash- ington, my father-in-law, Rev. Dr. Kendall of Plymouth, and Esquire Fillmore, father of the President. They both are more than eighty years old. On the journey, at one time, Mr. Fillmore told us of his early life in the woods ; and how, when Millard was born, he went seven miles through the forest for a physician, and when he returned, found the baby-boy rocking in a sap-trough for want of a better cradle. When we reached Washington, Mr. Fillmore stepped into the President's carriage, which was awaiting his arrival ; and Dr. Kendall and I went to Judge Hall's. Finding that the President's last reception for the season was to be that evening, we hastened to be there. As we entered the reception-room, we saw the President with his cabinet and family, his father at his side. As soon as we had been cor- dially received, Dr. Kendall drew me aside and whispered : ' ' Was there ever since the world began such a contrast as that group and the baby in the sap- trough ? " It was indeed a contrast. The President was a handsome man in the prime of life, of fine bearing; his father was venerable, tall, and not much bowed down by his eighty years ; his full gray hair and intelligent face at once drew attention, and he stood there by his son as no other father then had done, as calm and self-possessed as in. his justice's court in some log-cabin of western New York. I was to be in Washington a few weeks, and Esquire Fillmore wa,s to return home with me ; but one day I met him and he said, " I am going home to-morrow." I said, "But why not wait for me?" " No, no," he said; "I will go. I do not like it here ; it isn't a good place to live ; it isn't a good place for Millard ; I wish he were at home in Buffalo." DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 125 DECEMBER 27, 1853. The Boston affair came up in this shape : George Ellis wrote me by authority, asking me if I would preach two Sabbaths in November for the Bedford Street Society, and if they should give me a call with suffi- cient salary for five years, with the understanding that at the end of that time, should the experiment succeed, a final set- tlement would be made, whether I would entertain the propo- sition. I wrote that my health was now good, that my parish was a unit, that they and myself were mutually at- tached, and that though my means of living were not very ample, my family being expensive, yet that we could live, and that my inclination was to remain with my people. I should not leave without a certain prospect of greatly in- creased usefulness. Last Wednesday I gave the oration be- fore the New England Society. I was invited to have it published, but I know better; the subject has been cov- ered all up with eloquence. My oration did pretty well here, but it would appear small enough as compared with others. MARCH 23, 1853. It is a hard service to build up and sustain a Unitarian society in any one of our Western cities. We are a feeble minority, and have to breast a powerful current of prejudice and opposition. Every week brings its trials to the nervous energies. The strong attractions of new and beautiful churches and numerous congregations draw away some. Others are most anxious about their business, and will go to church where they hope to find most patrons. Others are fashion followers, and keep with the ton. Marriage is a source of perpetual trouble to us. Trinitarians say they cannot worship with us without endan- gering their salvation. We can worship with them without fear of such jeopardy; so the result is apt to be a loss on our part. From such various causes we suffer a perpetual drain from our numbers. Some are coming and some are going every month ; and for the last two or three years we 126 LIFE AT BUFFALO. have barely held our own. Then a still greater trial comes in sustaining an active, earnest religious spirit. We are a little community by ourselves ; have no help from abroad. Our Sabbath-school teachers can meet no conventions ; our people have no gatherings with others of like faith. We are alone, and many grow cold and lifeless. We have some who are anti-orthodox and go no farther, and such persons in any atmosphere are clouds of hail. But you must not understand from what I have said that we are always fighting with the churches around us. I am on terms of friendliness with the ministers of the city and neigh- borhood. I think they respect me, but they give me no strictly religious sympathy. My opinions , in their view, are dangerous, and must by all means be shut out. As you can see, it is hard to stand in such a position year after year. The strain upon one's nervous energy is very great. Then I have no relief by exchanges, a constant burden of work. I pre- sume I do not work nearly as many hours as you do, but three at least of the days of my week are filled with intense and very exhausting labor. To write and preach sermons that will move anybody, and perform the public devotional exercises of a parish, and meet the occasions of sorrow that arise, is the very hardest of work. This past winter I have grown weary under the burden, and long for relief. I have feared that trouble was coming to me from the too great exhaustion of nervous energy affecting the circulation of the blood. Sometimes my feet are cold and my brain surcharged. Twice the past winter I was unable to preach, dizzy and listless. When fatigued with writing, my brain sometimes feels paralyzed, and the slightest mental effort is a burden. In this year, 1853, his Alma Mater recognized his hard and effective service, conferring upon DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 127 him at commencement, the degree of Doctor of Divinity. DECEMBER 28, 1854. I am often solicited to entertain proposals for settlement in other cities. I have been invited to all the chief Western cities at different times, and several times New England has given me a wink to come home. Quite recently I had an intimation from Portland, Maine ; but I have chosen to stay where I am. In 1855, a most successful conference was held in the month of June, at Buffalo. In a letter to his people immediately after, he writes : I am inexpressibly happy, and write with tears of joy and hope. But do not suffer the blessed influences you have felt to pass away like the morning clouds or the early dew. I am sure that chords have been struck in my soul which will never cease to vibrate. O, my dear parishioners, keep your hearts and keep within them the good thoughts, feelings, and aspirations that have been suggested, and begin to work out the better purpose, which I am sure you must have formed ! It had been a time of extraordinary quick- ening, and the pastor hoped and prayed that the uplifting might not be merely transitory. DECEMBER 30, 1856. A happy New "Year to you, my good friends, in your peaceful home! Take Richter's New Year's benediction: " May your life glide on serenely; but if storms must convulse or clouds darken, may there be no more clouds than may glitter in the sunlight, and no storms which the rainbow may not encircle. And may the Veiled 128 LIFE AT BUFFALO. One of Heaven watch over your steps, and bring us to meet where clouds shall cease to darken and storms cease to con- vulse." When at Concord, though I had no pleasant time for such a visit, I went to " Sleepy Hollow." It is a quiet place, and in summer must be a charming retreat from the world's noise and dust. I know not where my body's resting-place may be ; my future is more uncertain than yours. Our lit- tle Edward lies at Northfield and Ella at our " Forest Lawn." For the rest, we wait for the future to open its mysteries. DECEMBER 9, 1857. I returned home last night. My tour no (Joubt strengthened our friends at Austinburg. I was absent a week, and spoke in that time at least ten hours. I lectured four times and preached Sunday. At Madison, on the Western Reserve, and at Erie, Pennsylvania, I gave a lecture upon ' ' The Landing of the Pilgrims. ' ' At Austinburg I gave a lecture, " A Look into the Old Times; or, The Morning Twilight of the Christian Day " gleams of light in Confucius, Zoroaster, Plato ; and before the Grand River Institute I gave the lecture which uses Dr. Bowditch to illustrate the " Union of the Outward and the Inward Life." About this time Dr. Hosmer preached a dis- course upon the memories of twenty years of settlement. Says Rev. Mr. Cutter, his suc- cessor at Buffalo : During these years the city had more than quadrupled in numbers, and the society was at least three times as large as when he came to it. The church building had been enlarged and twice repaired. The number of families in the parish was about one hundred and twenty-five ; the number of souls, about five hundred and fifty. " Our history," he writes, "furnishes no remarkable epochs. We have held DB. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. our own and made progress. We have lived in peace, and I trust there has been some growth in spiritual power and excel- lence." He had undoubtedly applied himself nobly and most disinterestedly with head and heart and hand during these twenty years of arduous service as preacher and pastor, and he had many grounds for encouragement and self-gratu- lation; and yet observe these words of modesty and humility with which he closes that chapter : "I feel a pro- found conviction of not having reached the mark of minis- terial fidelity and success. I have yet, oh, how much to do ! As I turn to the future years may the Father give me grace to become a more effectual minister of the Gospel of his Son ! " I believe he always held his own success and attain- ments at a modest and moderate estimate. Thoroughly devoted he indeed was to his noble calling, and inspired as few ministers are by a grand ideal of the pastoral work and of the sacred privilege of delivering God's message of truth to His needy children, yet he was conscious of his inability to do all that he felt should be done, and leaned confidingly upon the Almighty to make the human word and work com- plete through divine grace. In the spring of 1859 the church building caught fire, and was badly damaged by heat, smoke, and water. I have often heard the older members of our parish tell with what elo- quence, fervor, and pathos Dr. Hosmer addressed them on the first Sunday after this calamity. It was May-day ; the ground was covered with snow ; they met to worship in Kremlin Hall, and their hearts were heavy and sad. The text chosen for the morning service was, " By the rivers of Babylon we sat down, yea we wept when we remembered Zion." And from this text the faithful, courageous min- ister went on to dispel their gloom and disappointment, and to picture to them a brighter and happier future for their church. At this juncture the Niagara Street Methodist So- ciety generously offered them the use of their church. Dr. 130 LIFE AT BUFFALO. Hosmer was deeply touched by this act of Christian courtesy. Accustomed as he had been to continual opposition, abuse, or misrepresentation from other churches in the city, and cut off from ministerial fellowship with the clergy of Buffalo, his generous nature was strongly moved by so unexpected an offer of hospitality, and he wrote : "It would be worth the spoiling of many church edifices could such noble con- duct be called forth from the differing denominations.'* And when the church had been repaired and made chaste and elegant in finish and furniture, he wrote : ' ' Twice blessed we are for our calamity blessed by the large charity from our Methodist neighbors, and blessed again by having a better church than ever before." There was great rejoicing when the church was reopened in August, and Dr. Hosmer preached to ever-increasing congregations, and with unwonted impres- siveness and power. The society steadily advanced in numbers and in stability, and Dr. Hosmer' s noble influence, as a minister and a man, made itself felt more widely and deeply than ever before. Pastor and people became with each passing year more intimately bound to one another in mutual confidence and esteem. Early in 1861, a noteworthy scene was beheld in the church at Buffalo. Mr. Fillmore stood in his usual place, serene, clear-complexioned, with a courtly grace of bearing that had lately won admiration for him in the great courts of Europe, as it had before done in the White House. By his side stood a man, gaunt, angular, sallow, who, with melancholy face, bent reverently at the sound of the prayer. The minister spoke with solemn words ; then coming from his pulpit, looked for a moment into the serious eyes of the DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 131 visitor, while he pressed his hand. It was Abra- ham Lincoln passing on to the fulfilment of his stormy destiny ; even while the tumultuous forces Avhich were to convulse the continent and accomplish at last his martyrdom, were beginning their thunderous outburst. He writes as follows to a young minister : MAY 12, 1861. I am glad to hear of your work and plans for your little folks. The religious instincts need education as well as the muscles or the mental faculties ; and besides, in winning the children and benefiting them, you secure and bless the parents. Through the children you can get into the heart of the homes of your parish. I suppose by this time you have visited the most of your families, and in this way made your reconnoissance in order to plant your artil- lery and arrange your lighter forces so that all may be most effective. The man in the parish prepares the way for the man in the pulpit, and so the opposite in a degree. How many families have you ? I am led every year to contem- plate the ideal of a minister's life in my talks to the young men at Meadville. My work there has done me more good than the young men. We are always in danger of sinking by repetitions of exercises out of sight of worthy ideals. The minister, on his ordination day, sees something of his oppor- tunities and duties, and feels his responsibilities ; his heart throbs with great hopes. Unless he watches and prays and strives, in ten j^ears the visions will have all vanished, and lie will drag his load of ceremonious activities. I love to look upon the familiar picture of Dante and Beatrice ; she looks up to the supernal glories, and rises to them, and he, by gazing into her face, is inspired by her inspiration, and so they both rise into the spiritual heights. If a minister can be so blessed as to be to his 132 LIFE AT BUFFALO. parish what Beatrice was to Dante, according to his poetic conception, then our profession becomes a divine office, a grand ministry indeed. I am rejoiced to learn that you are turning towards the Lord's Supper with strong interest. To me it is the grand rallying point of spiritual communion. I have always enjoyed it; no service has been so pleasant to me as that- Many times, on public occasions, I have administered it once at Boston Anniversaries, and almost every year in our Western Conference. It is a heart-feast, a love-meeting. I give my heart the lead, and head is only second when I stand at the table and hear Christ say, 4i This do in memory of me. ' ' Take this keepsake ; let Me dwell in your hearts that I may help you. The early Christians celebrated the supper at the graves of the martyrs. There they met, their spirits in sweet and tender communion. And so, at the com- munion I seem to feel, more than at any other time, that we are surrounded with a cloud of witnesses. Jesus seems especially near us, and He shows the Father I in my Father, and He in me, and I in you. At the Lord's table I feel a little what a wondrous experience these words intimate. Dr. Eliot, of St. Louis, says if he were required to give up preach- ing or the administration of the Lord's Supper (and he spoke especially of affecting business men), if he must give up one, he should give up the preaching. He thinks nothing so deeply moves business men as by this service to be brought face to face before Christ, and be measured by His standards. Eliot strikes at the conscience. I would touch both con- science and heart, and nothing goes to the heart like Christ's love for us in this memorial, pleading with us to love Him so that He may be able to draw us to the Father. By all means make the communion, that is the term, a grand instrument of your ministry, and gather your people into the glorious fellowship of spiritual life. DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 133 A happy occasion was the celebration of the twenty- fifth anniversary of Dr. Hosmer's instal- lation in Buffalo. On the 13th and 20th of Oc- tober, 1861, he preached two discourses, the one upon the "Memories of the Parish," the other upon " Memories of the Pulpit," reviewing the events and experiences of a quarter of a century. On the evening of October 16th over four hun- dred parishioners assembled at the parsonage, when the Hon. Millard Fillmore, in behalf of the church, presented him with an elegant service of silver. Pastor and parishioner had widely dif- fered; the latter' s public course had been disap- proved ; his well-intentioned kindness had been rejected. The minister had not forfeited, how- ever, his hearer's respect. Mr. Fillmore said : This is but a slight testimony of our appreciation of your long, arduous, and successful labors among us. * * * I cannot enter into a detailed account of what you have done, nor of the beneficial influence you have exerted ; but I must say that, with a meek and unassuming Christian deportment, an unspotted reputation, and a disinterested benevolence you have given your heart and soul to every benevolent object, to every charitable establishment, and every literary enterprise. These works are held in grateful remembrance, and for them we delight to honor you. * * * We have dwelt together in peace, sympathizing with each other, re- joicing in prosperity and mourning in adversity. * * * It is impossible that this relation should have existed so long without creating on your part a tender pastoral regard for those over whose welfare you have watched with so much 12 134 LIFE AT BUFFALO. solicitude ; and I am happy to be able to assure you that we reciprocate with grateful hearts and filial affection the warm attachment which you feel for us. Addresses were also made by Mr. N". P. Sprague and Mr. O. Gr. Steele, expressing the sympathy and appreciation of the people for their beloved pastor. Wrote the Doctor in the records : It was a jubilee of joyous affection, a striking epoch in the history of our church. The beautiful gift of silver, as an expression of approbation and love, is invaluable. THE THRESHOLD OF OLD AGE. Thy soaring spirit without loss Did ever shoot from high to higher, As mounts the heavenward altar-fire, As flies the lighter through the gross. [TENNYSON : In Memoriam, XL. Thou didst build statelier mansions for thy soul, As the swift years did roll, Leaving thy narrower past ; And each new mansion, nobler than, the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length wert free. [HOLMES : The Chambered Nautilus. CHAPTER VII. DURING THE WAR. EPTEMBER 11, 1862. By the time that this reaches you Edward and James will be enlisted in the Massa- chusetts regiment now forming in the counties of Frank- lin and Hampden. Edward would have been gone before now but for his near-sightedness. He has been rejected here, but Massachusetts surgeons are less particular in their acceptance of eyes. I am sure he will not fail in his duty ; he is a spirited, manly fellow, and brings home a picture of himself as full of pluck and firmness as can be. He is nearly six feet in height, and quite strong. What times we live in ! I may go to Washington next week on business of the United States Sanitary Commission, and see something among the hospitals of the terrific war. The visit to Washington was made. Every opportunity was given him to see the workings of the Sanitary Commission. Hospitals were thrown open to him ; and so, while his sons were marching to the field, he moved among the suf- fering which the field brings to pass, a sad experience for a father already sufficiently anx- ious. Returning to Buffalo, he prepared a report which was widely circulated. On the 21st of October of this year took place the marriage of his only daughter to Rev. W. H. Savary, of West Newton, Massachusetts. Church and parsonage overflowed with the 138 DURING THE WAR. thronging friends, while gifts and good wishes without number gave evidence of the abounding love and good- will. DECEMBER 30, 1862. Our strong interest at present is our scattered children. We have been gazing into that dark Banks expedition and anxiously awaiting some word from the soldier boys. By this time they may have seen severe fighting. Can you imagine what this waiting is to us? Two lives so precious to us amidst such perils ! The possibilities, nay, the probabilities ! Well, we have tried to make up our minds to whatever comes. God establish the right, what- ever sacrifices we may be called to make ! My report upon the Sanitary Commission astonishes me. One thousand copies were published by our Buffalo Ladies' Aid Society. As soon as this report was seen at New York and Washing- ton, ten thousand were called for for Washington, and five thousand for New York; and since that, four thousand more, and they continue to be called for. Many, they say, have been made to work and send their goods by the right way. FEBRUARY 9, 1863. Our Benjamin will never return to us. We have a grave on the shore of the Mississippi, and one on the shore of the Connecticut. Our younger Edward died of typhoid pneumonia, at Baton Rouge, the 24th of January. The funeral, with martial array, took place on the 26th. Edward has had too much care and responsi- bility. The two lieutenants of his company have been sick. The captain is no soldier, and Edward, as first sergeant, has really been the main stay, the best soldier of the company and the most effective man. Their work has been hard much drilling, guard and picket duty. James has often written of Edward's character, conduct, and bear- ing so spirited, manly, decisive, and full of authority, and yet a great favorite among the men. He had a great deal of natural force, and, without thinking of it, controlled DE. HO SHEETS MEMORIAL. 139 those about him. The noble, manly youth has died given himself, with his youth, and strength, and promise, all to his country. When he enlisted, the matter had become serious, the poetic lights were extinguished; and going in as a private, it was indeed a noble sacrifice. MARCH 24, 1863. The box containing the few things that were Edward's has come to us his clothes, revolver, order-book, wallet, finger-ring, a picture that was in the room where he died. We hear from an officer, ' ' Sergeant Hosmer was the idol of his company, and a favorite with the whole regiment." Said a fellow-sergeant who now fills Ed's place, "We have lost our best officer." Said a private, as he smoothed the sods over Edward's grave, tears welling into his eyes, u What shall we do without him? we have no officer that can handle us as he did." He was, indeed, a beautiful and heroic youth, who well deserved a tribute of the warmest tears. In his softer moods his face resembled strongly that of Thorwaldsen's "Night,-" the lovely genius with the drooping lids, floating upon poised pinions through spaces of the darkness. It was not often, however, so subdued and quietly pensive. His bright blue eye was habit- ually wide open to the light, and the traits of his countenance charged with a force "which made men give way before him in deference. In his place on the right flank of the company he was a superb young soldier, and it was hard to stand by helpless when the desperate camp-fever robbed his limbs of their vigor. In him our father seemed likely to live again. In the sol- 140 DURING THE WAR. dier's cemetery at Baton Rouge, war's dismal storm has rippled the sward into a thousand grave-mounds. None covers a soldier higher- souled or finer moulded than our youthful ser- geant, so prompt and brave ! Dr. Hosmer spoke out of his grief to his peo- ple, introducing Ms sermon by revelation of experiences of the most solemn interest. He said : I come to speak of God and His gift of eternal life through Jesus Christ our. Lord. I feel a sense of God upon my heart. I am humbled by a deep and vivid consciousness of dependence and recognition of wondrous favor. * * * Let me put reserve and perhaps common usage aside, and tell you how my soul fares in the sudden tempest, how its be- liefs and theories stand the test, how it bears the trial. I am nothing. Sink the personality, and let me tell, if I can, out of some experience, how God brings His great gift of eternal life into the depths of the soul. I was not stunned with unexpected suddenness. I had hoped ; but I had thought of danger and probable risk ; I had counted the cost ; and when the blow came, the severest I have ever known, I learned with grateful joy that I could rest on my foundations. Solid ground was under my feet, and the good Father opened His heavens, and seemed near to me perhaps never so near before a presence ineffably tender and solemn, so that I cared not to use the common words and forms of prayer. In a poor way, I seemed to know what it was to be in God, and God in me, my heart submissive to His will, and my head resting in the bosom of the Father. * * * This great fellowship of God with the soul, in its hour of DR. HO SHEETS MEMORIAL. 141 trial, is a wonderful thing to know. Human sympathy is very sweet ; in affliction we long for it, and it helps us to bear our burdens ; but this fellowship with the Father is more, deeper, richer indeed, the sorrow may be so deep, and the soul so agonized, that in God alone it can find ade- quate companionship. "And we," said Jesus respecting a believer the Father and I " will come to him and make our abode with him." I think I have begun to know what this means ; affliction has been giving me the experience. The good Father has made me feel His inspiring presence, and He has brought into my soul, all anew, His great gift of eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. Life and im- mortality are brought to light. If any doubt whether there is a life of spirit after the body dies, I do not agree with them. A stupendous argument for immortality is wrought into the human soul ; it seems to me I feel it. ' ' The ear- nest expectation of the creature waiteth for the manifesta- tion of the sons of God." I think I can lay my hand upon the foundations in the soul of faith in God and immortality. And then Christ brings immortality to light, by word, and deed, and resur- rection ; and Paul and John give confirmation strong as holy writ. I stand by the grave of young manhood. A friend comes with tender sympathy, and speaks kind words. But then he says, "Alas, the young man is dead! He is gone into the silent unseen gone ! and this world is bereft of all that with him came into it ; and hope, pointing to a dis- tant sometime, is all that is left to us." I do not feel so ; I cannot make him dead, but since that grave was made, more alive than ever before. "Gone be- fore his time," says one; "snatched away by remorseless fate! " But I do not feel so. How old heathenism lingers in our language, its shadows still upon our hearts ! Did you ever think how Christ ignored death hardly ever spoke of it, excepting to set it aside? Life, not death, was the great 142 DURING THE WAR. thing with him. Death of the body and the grave belonged to matter, and he discerned the spirit. I rejoice that I can look upon death as it comes so near me now, with no cold shudder ; I can think of the grave into which earthly hopes and fond expectations have gone down forever, and still have visions of the living spirit, and joyous, grateful thoughts about it. Not dead thanks be to God ! not dead in that distant, lonely grave, but risen, and more here than there. I have not felt contact, nor heard a sound, nor seen a shadow ; I do not care to. I feel no doubt that the spirit lives, and do not need nor ask for such signs to prove it to me. I am content. The spirit lives. I enjoy the thought that he may be near us, and know more about us than most persons think. Distance and cold, separating walls have nothing to do with spirit. "But," says one, "he is gone from you; no more a clasp of the hand, nor word, nor look." I know ; but then, the thought of that life. If I cannot have such intimacies with it as have been dear to me, I enjoy thought of its growth in power, love, fidelity thought of its superior opportunities and higher, holier companionship. So long as I can believe he was honest and truthful, and in so large degree unspotted ' by the world, I can feel sure that his life beyond that grave is a continuation of what was best and noblest in the life here. Absence, even if there is absence, is not death and utter loss. Your child goes to a distant State, say for twenty years, and is then to meet you again. You are sure that his opportunities there will be greater, and that he will improve them and be more and do more than he could here. Should you not say, Go, even though grief should choke your utter- ance? During that twenty years you would find joy in thinking about the growth and welfare of that unseen child ; and you would live upon the expectation of the meeting, when the time should come. So I can live in the great ex- pectation, and make the time seem shorter by joyful thoughts of the dear departed in his grander, holier life. DR. HO SHEETS MEMORIAL. 143 That growing life in blessed immortality how it takes hold upon my soul, as I think of it ! The growth of inner life here is always wonderfully interesting ; to see the strengthening of thought, the deepening of feeling, the be- ginnings of character, the coming on of gentle womanhood or courageous manliness, the rising into power of the moral and spiritual forces, until the life is full born, becomes a dearest joy. It is like watching the day-break and morning to see a child, a youth, grow in life. But here we see only the beginning ; there are no finished lives in the short period of existence, only preparations to build, only the fixing of corner-stones. Beyond death the work goes on ; there are yet other births, and growth in spirit so large, so strong, so sweetly harmo- nious. I feel sure of it ; and it fills my being with a solemn joy to think of the loved ones who have gone forward. There they climb, growing in life, knowing more and loving deeper, rising nearer to God, higher into heaven. Lost, do they say, dead and lost? O friends, are not our dear de- parted, though now invisible to us, given to our hearts more than ever their names and memories henceforth to be the jewels of our souls loving, reverent thoughts of them, our blessed angels ? I care not that my departed should come and touch my hand, to assure that he is alive. I feel sure of it now. I ask not that he should come and tell me that he is growing out of the way of evil into holier, grander life. I do not doubt it. With the instincts and foretokenings in my own soul, with the words of Christ and Paul and Peter and John, with the f oregleams of the resurrection morning I do not doubt. And the nearer death comes to me oh ! I humbly thank God that I can say so the more real and nearer to me does immortality become. Once it seemed to me obscure, dark, ghost-haunted ; but every loved one gone before has made it lighter, brought it nearer to me, and now it begins to 144 DURING THE WAR. seem my home. My friends. I can say this with all my soul. Whether it be my temperament, the early influences of my life, or meditation and forereaching thought in whatever way God helped me to feel so, I devoutly thank Him. I know there is difference in people in belief and feel- ing of immortality, and what it contains. I have known many good men, who had darkening doubts, and occasional distrust and fear. To such I would whisper, Hope, hope on ; honest doubts may be very far from sin. There is some truth, yet not the deepest, in the old adage, "Strong thinkers are strong doubters." It is harder for some to believe than others. Thomas must see the print of crucifixion nails. If shadows lie around you ; if the graves of your departed make you weep, so that you cannot see the stars, nor even the breaking daylight of heavenly immortality, go to the feet of Jesus, the great Spirit-seer. He was agonized in the garden, but it was not because He was to put off the mortal and put on immortality the next day; He had received God's great gift of eternal life, and rose above death and the grave, to be the "resur- rection ' ' and the ' ' life. ' ' Stand with Him ; take the inspira- tion of His thought ; see through His eyes ; and the veils and walls of matter will become transparent, no longer blinding and imprisoning; death and the grave will grow less and less, and life more and more. I am not troubled about the circumstances of eternal life, if I can lay hold of the life itself with earnest expectation. I am not anxious about many things how shall we know our friends, how communicate with them, how fast grow, where live? Interesting questions, but I am content to leave them for God to answer in His own blessed way. When I see my handwriting, and hear my tongue speaking, and feel my soul pouring out its meaning to you, I understand how wonderfully God has fitted us to live in communion here ; and I rest assured that the same wise Goodness will DR. HO SHEETS MEMORIAL. 145 fit us to live in communion there. Indeed, I would be anxious about nothing but to improve my opportunity to co- operate with God, and do and be just what he would have me. With all whom I love I would dwell in God, and He in us, sure of His fatherly care this side the grave or beyond it ; and expectation shall be kept alive by these great words : ' ' Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor heart of man con- ceived the things which God hath prepared for them that love Him." To quote again from letters, Dr. Hosmer writes : AUGUST 14, 1863. James is at home, and it seems like receiving one from the dead to see him here. His regiment came here on their way from Port Hudson home, on Sunday, the 2d instant. James sent me a dispatch from Marion, Ohio, which came at ten o'clock Saturday night, saying they should be here Sunday morning. Sunday morn- ing I called up from their beds three or four men of my society, and we went to work to make ready a reception ; and when the hour of public service came I went to church, and after prayer and singing, I told the people to go and pre- pare to feed the hungry and minister to the sick. At noon we were ready to feed eight hundred men and care for a large number of sick, on long tables in the great depot. I made a short reception speech to the ' ' men of Massachu- setts, soldiers of the Union and of liberty, emancipators of the Mississippi River! " and Mr. Moors, the chaplain, an- swered. The whole affair was very fine, and I set the other churches going so that all the other returning regiments of New England, eight or nine already and more expected, have been fed and cared for very generously. OCTOBER 5, 1863 (TO HERBERT), The week round 13 146 DURING THE WAR. again, and the big stone to be rolled up the hill for another week. Well, there is always a week for the work to be done. I dread writing, and yet I enjoy it when once engaged. I suppose we all dread work, and yet we are happier within it than we should be without it. Last week I had a struggle, a multiplicity of cares. I was expecting coal, so I began my sermon Wednesday, not a very clear idea, but I wrote a quarter. Thursday I had my agricultural address in the press to look after, and mother had company to dine, so I did nothing on my sermon. Friday I tried, but could not move was expecting coal had a wedding from Canada mind divided. Two or three times I rushed at the sermon, but nothing was done. Coal came and the men, and I hired them to finish it Friday night. Society came in the evening, and I supposed I must fall back on the " barrel." Saturday morning I rushed once more on the sermon, however, and carried it through pleasantly enough, and was ready to go to a funeral at Black Rock, in the Methodist Church, at two o'clock. Those assaults upon my subject Friday forenoon were desperate. I might have given up and burned the be- ginning, but that I will never do, I always finish the sub- ject I begin, come out what may, and this thing that was dragged out so painfully turned out pretty well. Tug on and never give up, is the moral. MAY 26, 1864, AT WASHINGTON. I write at the Speaker's desk, and with his paper and pen, in his splendid room. In half an hour it will be twelve o'clock, and then we go into the hall close by. The Speaker strikes one blow with his gavel, and I make a prayer of about three minutes. The members rise and stand during the service. Every word of the prayer has reference to the place, the time, the govern- ment brief and pertinent as I can make it. Mr. Channing has gone to the front, and I have his duties to perform. Last Sunday I was in the Capitol as preacher, in the Hall of Representatives. It is a grand place to speak in. There is DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 147 a choir but no organ. The audience is composed chiefly of strangers at the capital, many soldiers, members of Con- gress. I enjoyed the service more than I expected to. APRIL 22, 1865, AT HILTON HEAD, S. C. It is delightful coming into these summer seas and balmy climes. I went from here to Charleston interesting enough to see the scene of so much battle-strife a fine old city, sadly injured now from fires and bomb-shells. The 14th was Fort Sumter day. Steamers gaily dressed with flags, with music and uniforms of all descriptions, carried down the great company. Ar- rived at the fort, we gathered into the centre, an amphithea- tre, the flag-staff in the middle, four or five hundred feet in diameter. All around were the case-mated chambers and passage-ways, in which were the men and guns. The salute was grand, the booming cannon from so many forts and ships. Mr. Beecher's speech you have seen. All went off well, and the day was a worthy offset to the 14th of April, 1861. In the summer of 1865 Dr. Hosmer spent six weeks in Bangor, Maine, while the pastor of the Bangor Unitarian Church, Rev. C. C. Everett, supplied for Dr. Hosmer at Buffalo. The ex- change gave delightful renewal of friendship, especially in the family of Chief Justice John Appleton, whose wife was born in, and came from, Northfield, Massachusetts. Many cour- tesies and attentions also came from the interest- ing families in the Bangor society. The Sunday congregations grew to be very sympathetic and inspiring. It was during the time of this sum- mer journey to Bangor, that a opportunity hap- pily came for making the rounds of Mt. Desert. 148 DURING THE WAR. Dr. Hosmer arranged for a carriage journey. He met his son-in-law, the Rev. William H. Savary, at Ellsworth, twenty-six miles toward Frenchman's Bay, and near Mt. Desert, and the two, with a private conveyance, enjoyed the enchanting drives for three days over the island and amid the hills. DECEMBER, 21, 1865, AT TOLEDO, OHIO. I am out upon a lecturing tour to Mansfield, Ohio, and from here I go to Hillsdale, Michigan, to the college and village. I lecture on the New England fathers ; they are all along with me, though the railroad men don't see 'them, and they go free. I am Old Mortality, chiseling the moss from the forefathers' grave-stones, to save their names from oblivion and to keep their spirit in the hearts of the people. A beautiful young wife lay upon her death- bed, concerning whom he wrote : JANUARYS, 1866. Dear Lizzie suffering still, and all of you watching so tenderly around her ! Every day we are talking of you all. I should so love to watch with you, so that when the door opens to let the sweet girl into Heaven, I might share with you the glimpses of peace and glory that may be caught. O, I know the grief in all your hearts ; and yet how wondrous the schooling of these last years under your roof ! What thoughts of the Good Father, of the Immortal Spirit, of the Heavenly Home have made their abode with you ! What but such experiences could have so moved you from death unto life? Lizzie has been made patience and love and hope to all of you in her suffering. In her trial your faith^has come to vision. Dear girl, be of good cheer; the angels are near you, and more than all DR. HOtiMER'S MEMORIAL. 149 angels or earthly friends, the loving Father folds you in His arms ! There is no death in His presence, and no dark valley to go through. The light of His countenance is love, peace, joy. Jesus is in the blissful mansion putting a light in every window to cheer and guide the homeward-bound. Sweet, weary pilgrim, be of good cheer! In the fall of 1866 the life at Buffalo came to an end, Dr. Hosmer accepting the Presidency of Antioch College, at Yellow Springs, Ohio. Rev. Dr. Bellows, in the memorial article already quoted from the Unitarian Review, sums up Dr. Hosmer' s ministry in Buffalo in these words : Buffalo was rightly deemed a place in which the good seed well planted would bring forth rich harvests and scatter new seed widely abroad. It needed a man of marked wisdom, large capacity of labor, self-poise, and power to endure pro- fessional solitude, and to meet general opposition. Mr. Hosmer was selected from many candidates as one who could be trusted to fill that trying place, which had lost its previous minister by secession from our ranks into the Episcopal Church. He was fortunate in originally having in his small congregation a few of the best and most able men in the com- munity; and the little society was fortunate in getting a minister who possessed the sterling qualities that sooner or later secure the best kind of success for a Christian church. It is difficult to conceive of a healthier and more vigorous growth than that which attended Mr. Hosmer 's labors in Buffalo. He laid his foundations deep, in a painstaking, instructive ministry in the pulpit and the class-room, watch- ing carefully the religious education of the children and youth, indoctrinating the people studiously in the opinions 150 DURING THE WAR. for which he stood as sponsor in that place, while never allowing a sectarian or contentious spirit to dull the religious life which above all he represented and urged home upon the people. Earnest, painstaking, studious, and zealous as a preacher, he was equally active and devoted as a pastor, and became the personal friend and adviser of every family in his fold. Rarely has any minister united so perfectly the preacher and pastor. He had the best New England tra- ditions in his blood, and he honored them with his full strength. Simple, sincere, clear, and unambitious of any- thing except usefulness in his preaching, he brought a fervor of spirit, a flow of feeling, and a copiousness of words to his themes that fully met the taste and satisfied the thirst for earnestness in speech which characterizes new and thriving communities. He laid the foundations of friendships in Buffalo that outlast two generations. He poured into the community a public spirit, a Christian morality, and a rever- ence for sacred things, such as novelty of theological opinions always threatens or impairs. He was thoroughly convinced and perfectly pronounced in his liberal views a sound, unflinching Unitarian in days when we had no schools, no right and no left wing, but were united in a com- mon faith, by the pressure of a general opposition to the most moderate departure from Orthodoxy. But he pos- sessed the rare power of making no enemies, persuading with- out driving, and enlightening without alarming the prejudices he sought to overcome. This was largely due to his great native reverence of spirit, and his essential geniality of tem- per. None could doubt his own piety, or the moral power and beauty of his spirit and conduct. He recommended his opinions by his holy and consecrated life and character. Thirty years of ripe manhood spent in one community and in one society, laboriously and with full consent of his affec- tions, he meanwhile enjoying his hardest work, knowing little ill health or weariness ; feeling little discouragement or DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 151 cause for abating his hope and courage, or for changing his wise and prudent policy ; equally respected in his public career and in his domestic and private character ; consulted by his fellow- citizens, and making himself known and felt as a public- spirited citizen, a friend and supporter of education, of just reforms, and of all philanthropic causes, above alias a Christian gentleman ; dignified and consistent in his car- riage ; humane and open to every cry ; accessible, and never sparing himself when his services, counsels, or help were de- manded ; a companion for the best, and not above the society of the least or the worst if he could serve or instruct them, Mr. Hosmer had a model society and a model ministry in Buffalo. The strength of his life went into his work there. He left permanent, ineffaceable marks on city and people, and on the good cause of liberal Christianity through the West. He had the full confidence of the Eastern Uni- tarians, who rejoiced to have so pure, prudent, and holy a representative of their cause nearer by seven hundred miles than themselves to a field that opened at Buffalo and ex- tended to the Mississippi. Probably few of our ministers have ever won so wide a diocese as this unordained bishop, a bishop by his breadth of sympathies, his patience of labors, his readiness to journey on the business of the churches, his profound interest in the labors of the younger men, his mis- sionary zeal, and his fatherly temper. In taking leave of his parish he said : This occasion has come unsought and unwelcomed. It is painful to us all. Our old relations are all in my heart. Yet let us rejoice in the light of pleasant memories, of mutual helpfulness gladly rendered and gratefully received. Your homes have been my home, and I have tried to make my home yours. Our joys and sorrows we have borne together. Our church-life has been precious and beautiful. Few so- 152 DURING THE WAE. cieties have been so favored. Offences must come and have come; yet you have borne with me, and I am often very grateful that the lines have fallen to me in pleasant places. The memory of all this friendly, affectionate life fills my heart with gratitude. I thank God and I thank you. Not all has been done that we might have hoped. It is not all well. Not all have been true worshippers and good work- ers yet let us humbly rejoice in the measure of good that has been accomplished. As I think of the lives of some who have been with us and now have gone on, and of others still with us, I feel a joy that cannot be uttered. My h eart grows very tender towards you all at the thought of parting. In what scenes of trial we have stood together ! in what hours of darkness, looking for the upper light! amidst what wrecks of earthly expectation, trying to think of the unfailing inheritance! O, my people, beloved and longed for, my joy and crown, I rejoice in the good Provi- dence that has brought our lives together ! In the records he writes : The breaking up of our life here and leaving old friends is very painful ; it is almost like the death agony. Yet our people have behaved most nobly. Here I write the last words of this record. May God bless the people, who have been so kind and generous to me and mine these thirty years ! May peace and joy abide with them forever! CHAPTER VIII. AT ANTIOCH COLLEGE. lERHAPS," says Dr. Bellows, "few persons are so responsible as the present writer for Dr. Hosmer's re- moval from the scene of such a beautiful and successful ministry to the Presidency of Antioch College. He had compunctions at the time, and feels them still. For Dr. Hosmer left a succeeding, not to say a victorious position, to assume the charge of a college under trial and in pecuni- ary distress, which never recovered the loss of Horace Mann, its first president, and probably the only man then living who could have continued to hold the college up. It was created by his singular genius, and it died, to all intents, when he died. Yet his seven years in the post of President of Antioch College were years of marked and beautiful influence over the few students there, and were even more marked by the growth they gave his own mind, and the fresh start he took in his studies and in his opinions. There he found more leisure to read and study, to write with care ; an audience of young men, with fresh and advancing minds, and a certain critical temper, literary and otherwise, which every academic preacher learns to respect. It was evident to those who had known Dr. Hosmer longest and best, that this change of place and of responsibilities was tonic and strengthening. He was sixty-three when he went to Yellow Springs (An- tioch College), and there he remained seven years, that is, until he was near seventy. This is not a period of life in which ministers or other professional men usually make 154 AT ^iNTIOCH COLLEGE. progress, or widen out intellectually or spiritually. But he certainly did. And in this he showed that the youth of the heart is a substitute for genius, and shares with it the privi- lege of keeping the mind elastic and expansible. Dr. Hosmer was never an original or masterly thinker, and had no exacting intellectual appetite for difficult and knotty problems on which some strong minds exercise and develop themselves. We must doubt if his native and spon- taneous faith was not too vigorous ever to leave him at the mercy of painful misgiving about foundations. He was a Christian by nature, a believing, hoping, trusting spirit ; and all his experience fed his faith and strengthened it until it became the law and habit of his soul, a blessed good fortune ! But his sympathies were altogether too active and his impulses too generous not to make him alive to the ques- tions and difficulties of others, and he had sufficient scholar- ship and vigor to enable him to understand modern doubts and difficulties for young and thoughtful men. This gave a certain breadth and openness and pliableness to his views, and his lectures and preaching, which recommended them even to the active inquirers or troubled doubters of the new day. It saved him from becoming a fine petrifaction or a well-preserved specimen of an otherwise extinct species of theological opinions. He grew in capacity of thought, in liberality of views, in courage, and in toleration. He was not one of the men whom it was^easy to scare by alleg- ing the dangerous tendencies of opinion among young students of our times. He knew that Christianity had out- lived a great many such threats, and he felt sure it would survive all new perils of the same sort. Accordingly, he was gentle and forbearing with youthful doubts ; could tolerate all shades of honest opinion, and kept his horror wholly for practical unrighteousness and unholy living. ' ' The removal to Yellow Springs took place in DE. HOSMER'ti MEMORIAL. 155 September, 1866. Dr. Hosmer was accompanied by his son James, who, at the same time, left his parish at Deerfield to become Professor of Rhetoric and English Literature in the college. They arrived together, with their families, on a tempestuous evening, finding shelter from the storm, though hardly from homesickness, in a little tavern of the village. The ample presi- dent's house received them', however, and in a few days the foundations were laid of a pleasant home. When the term opened the number of students, large and small, was not far from two hundred, to a large extent young men and young women of excellent promise, to labor for whom was a pleasure. The sightly group of college buildings crowned a highland which sloped gently eastward for nearly a furlong to the brink of a deep glen. Upon the opposite bank of this chasm the " Yellow Spring," a chalybeate spring of remarkable fulness, poured its torrent over rocks stained yellow by its strong mineral quality, and swelled into importance the current of the brook which wound its way between beetling walls of limestone, overhung by the growths of a dense forest, to empty at last in the Little Miami, a mile or two southward. The situation was most healthful, and rich in natural beauties. Large towns, moreover, lay north and south at the distance of ten miles; 156 AT ANTIOCH COLLEGE. the cities of Ohio were all easily accessible ; the country full of a thriving, intelligent population. Aloof in its beautiful seclusion, yet so approach- able from all directions, Antioch College, at first view, seems to occupy the ideal position for an institution of learning. Properly manned with teachers of ability and learning, properly admin- istered by a judicious head, what more could be wanting to a fine success? It is not strange Antioch has found enthusiastic friends, who have worked and given without stint, in the con- viction that the college must some time flourish. It was the darling project of the greatest genius who, in America, has devoted himself to educa- tion. It has had the finest ability in its faculty. It has given a president to Harvard, a president to the new Ohio University at Columbus, a vice- president to Cornell. It has furnished instruc- tors for Cambridge, for New Haven, for Ithaca, for Johns Hopkins University, for several of the great State universities of the West. Voices that have since taught crowds of youths in some of the famous educational centres of the country, have sounded to little purpose in the great empty spaces of Antioch, the attractive power which they came, under other conditions, to possess, failing for some reason here. Dr. Hosmer undertook the Presidency of Antioch when, in 1866, it had been declined by DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 157 Governor Andrew, of Massachusetts, without extravagant expectations, though with a good degree of hope. For several years he had been a trustee of the institution, and was familiar with its peculiar embarrassments. A new chap- ter in its history, he felt, was now opening. Old debts had been wiped away ; an endowment of $100,000 was in the hands of its trustees ; the fairest promises had been made of further gifts ; powerful friends were working for it with heart and soul. He himself, he could feel honestly, was not without important qualifications for the position. He knew the West well; he had had much intercourse with, and been acceptable to, the Christians, the body by whom the college had been founded, and who, it was believed, would still give it their support. In his earlier life he had been efficient in school-work, and at Meadville he had proved his power to interest young men. He was not so old that it would be difficult to renew his knowledge of branches he might be required to teach ; he could rely, from long experience, upon his ability to put a matter attractively before an audience ; his thirty-seven years' experience as a minister, in positions of unusual difficulty, had familiarized him in gen- eral with embarrassment and the best way to meet it. As time went on, however, hope failed. In H 158 AT ANTIOCH COLLEGE. the State of Ohio there were some forty institu- tions claiming to furnish " the higher educa- tion," whereas there was perhaps room for but one. The competitions that came to pass were disastrous, leading to trickery, to lowering of standards, to untruthful claims, until a weight of disrepute rested upon the colleges of the State, and students that could afford it went beyond its bounds for an education. Then, again, Antioch was a " college without a constituency." The Unitarians of the West were too few, and too indifferent, to help greatly ; it was found impos- sible to win the confidence of the Christians; the unchurched Liberals passed it by, or, if they lent a hand, did harm rather than good by arousing the suspicion that Antioch favored infidelity, the Bloomer reform, free-love, or what not. As there were external embarrassments, so the internal administration was not at all a bed of roses. The company of students, though not large, was ill-assorted. The seniors on their way through the halls to their lecture in meta- physics were forced to dodge the children of the infant school, having a moment's respite from learning the alphabet. The vast variety in age, acquirement, and character was still more troublesome in the discipline of the institution than in the class-room. A code of rules had to be devised suitable for children in their teens, DR.HOSMEK'S MEMORIAL. 159 and for people sometimes more than thirty. Moreover, as regards the coming together of the two sexes. Where no responsibility rests upon college officers outside of the class-room for students, the difficulties of co-education are undoubtedly slight. Where, however, the responsibility exists for the whole life of stu- dents, the difficulty of administration greatly increases. At Antioch the young people were collected into two parallel buildings, separated by an interval of a few rods, in one of which lived the young ladies under charge of a matron, in the other the young men. The common table at which both sexes met was in the base- ment of the young ladies' hall. As regards society and amusement, there were no resources for the students outside of the college-grounds. From first to last the company of young people at Antioch was, for the most part, excel- lent, as serious, high-minded, and reasonable, no doubt, as can be found. Every one, how- ever, who has had any experience of life, and is at all cognizant of the facts of human nature, will feel that the head responsible for the good order of such a mixed assemblage would have cause for anxiety. As a fact, cases that required very delicate handling often arose ; and though anything like immorality was absolutely unheard of, the utmost watchfulness and tact were always necessary. 160 AT ANTIOCH COLLEGE. For causes outside and in, the number of stu- dents slowly but constantly dwindled, though the Antioch life in many ways was exceedingly pleas- ant, and the faculty was probably never abler or more faithful. The hopes with which Dr.Hosmer undertook the position, therefore, underwent in- creasing discouragement. Moreover, a deafness which had begun to appear before he left Buffalo increased year by year, until it became hard for him to discharge the work of the class-room. In 1872, his son James removed from Yellow Springs to Missouri. Dr. Hosmer felt that the remnant of his life could be spent to better advan- tage elsewhere, and that another man could guide more efficiently the work that was to be done. In 1873 he resigned his post the trustees, the faculty, the students, the friends of the college in general, showing a deep, often a tearful regret that the parting must come, for it can be truth- fully said, his own conviction that the time had come for him to go was not shared by others. The life at Antioch had another side than that of misfortune and disappointment, which should have emphatic presentment. Constant proofs of the respect and affection in which he was held came to Dr. Hosmer from students and faculty, following him to his new home, and not ceasing until his death. His class-room was a favorite place ; his pulpit ministrations made impression ; in his journeys to and fro he won respectful hear- DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 101 ing to sermon and address . No picture of Antioch life would be at all fair which should omit certain pleasant features that were quite peculiar to the college. At frequent intervals the parlors, halls, and piazzas of the president's house were thrown open to the students and their friends. Light, music, flowers made it attractive ; the evening was given to delightful and refining intercourse ; in indirect but effective ways the young men and women were brought under humanizing influ- ences. At Thanksgiving, faculty and students dined together in the common hall, an atmo- sphere of good cheer and good feeling prevailing which gave the occasion the air of a great family festival; at Commencement, for several years, one evening was given up to the presentation of some noble play in the chapel, the glen rifled of its green and flowers to make rich the mimic gar- den, the village ransacked for properties to give elegance to palace hall, the shapely youths and graceful maids reciting, as they moved, the verses of our grandest poets. These dramatic performances were described afterward in the Atlantic Monthly, by the profes- sor under whose care they were given.* From this paper the following extract is made : Our play at the last Commencement was "Much Ado * "The New Wrinkle at Sweetbrier," in the number for July, 1872. 162 AT ANTIOCH COLLEGE. About Nothing." It was selected six months before, and studied with the matertal in mind (the students in the litera- ture class) available for the different parts. What is there, thought I, in Beatrice (sprightliness covering intense womanly feeling) that our vivacious, healthful Ruth Brown cannot master; and what in Benedick, her masculine counterpart, beyond the power of Moore to conceive and render ? It is chiefly girlish beauty and simple sweetness that Hero requires, so she shall be Edith Gray. Claudio, Leonato, Don John, Pedro we have clean-limbed, presentable fellows who will look and speak them all well ; and as for lumbering Dogberry, Abbot, with his fine sense of the ludicrous, will carry it out in the best manner. A dash of the pencil here and there through the lines, where Shakespeare was suiting his own time and not the world as it was to be after three hundred refining years, and the marking out of a few scenes that could be spared from the action, and the play was ready ; trimmed a little, but with not a whit taken from its sparkle or pathos, and all its lovelier poetry untouched. Then came long weeks of drill. In the passage O my lord, When you went onward to this ended action, I looked upon her with a soldier's eye, etc, Claudio caught the fervor and softness at last, and seemed in love indeed. Ursula and Hero rose easily to the delicate poetry of the passages that begin The pleasantest angling is to see the fish Cut with her golden oars the silver stream, And Look where Beatrice like a lap-wing runs. Pedro got to perfection his turn and gesture in The wolves have preyed ; and look, the gentle day, Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about Dapples the drowsy East with spots of gray. DE. HOSMEK'S MEMORIAL. 163 With the rough comedy of Dogberry and the watchmen, that foils so well the real tragedy of poor Hero's heart- breaking and contrasts in its blunders with the diamond-cut- diamond dialogue of Benedick and Beatrice, there was less difficulty. From first to last it was engrossing labor, as hard for the trainer as the trained, yet still delightful work ; for what is a conscientious manager but an artist striving to per- fect a beautiful dramatic picture? The different personages are the pieces of his mosaic, who in emphasis, tone, gesture, by-play, must be carved and filed until there are no flaws in the joining, and the shading is perfect. But all was ready at last, from the roar of Dogberry at the speech of Conrade Away! you're an ass, you're an ass! To the scarcely articulate agony of Hero, when she sinks to the earth at her lover's sudden accusation O, Heavens ! how am I beset ! What kind of catechising call you this? I fancy you ask, rather sneeringly, as to our scenery and stage adjuncts. Our hall at Sweetbrier is as large as the Christ Church refectory at Oxford, and handsomely propor- tioned and decorated. A wide stage runs across the end. We found some ample curtains of crimson, set off with a heavy yellow silken border, of quite rich material, which had been used to drape a window that had disappeared in the course of repairs. This, stretched from side to side, made a wall of brilliant color against the gray tint of the room. The stage is the one thing in the world privileged to deceive. The most devoted reader of Ruskin can tolerate shams here. The costumes were devised with constant reference to Charles Knight, and to the eye, were the gayest silk, satin, and velvet. There was, moreover, a profusion of jewels, which, for all one could see, sparkled with all the lustre of the great 164 AT ANTIOCH COLLEGE. Florentine diamond, as you see it suspended above the im- perial crowns in the Austrian Schatzkammer at Vienna. The contrasts of tint were well attended to : Pedro was in white and gold, Claudio in blue and silver, Leonato in red ; while our handsome Benedick, a youth of dark Italian favor, in doublet of orange, a broad black velvet sash, and scarlet cloak, shone like a bird of paradise. There was a garden scene, in the foreground of which, where the eyes of the spectators were near enough to dis- criminate, were rustic baskets with geraniums, fuchsias, and cactuses, to give a southern air ; in the middle distance, arm- fuls of honeysuckles in full bloom were brought in and twined about white pilasters. There was an arbor overhung with heavy masses of the trumpet-creeper. A tall column or two, surmounted with graceful garden vases, were covered about with raspberry vines, the stems of brilliant scarlet showing among the green. A thick clump of dogwood, whose large white blossoms could easily pass for magnolias, gave background. The green was lit with showy color of every sort ; handfuls of nasturtiums, now and then a peony, lark- spurs for blue, patches of poppies, and in the garden vases high on the pillars (the imposition ! ) clusters of pink holly- hocks, which were meant to pass for oleander blossoms, and did. It was brought in at sundown, still wet with the drops of the afternoon shower, which had not dried away when all was in place. First it was given under gas ; then, the hall being darkened, a magnesium light gave a moon-like radiance, in which the dew on the buds glistened, and the mignonette seemed to exhale a double perfume, and a dreamy melody of Mendelssohn's, sung by two sweet girl voices, floated out about the " pleached bower" like a song of nightingales. Then toward the end came the scene of the chapel and Hero's tomb. To the eye our Hero's tomb was a block of spotless marble seen against a background of black, with a DE. HO SHEETS MEMOEIAL. 165 fair figure recumbent upon it, whose palms and lids and draping the chisel of an artist seemed to have folded and closed and hung all idealized again by the magic of f the magnesium light. As the crimson curtain was drawn apart, an organ sounded, and a far-away choir sent into the hush the "Ave Verum" of Mozart, low-breathed and solemn. They were American young men and young women, with no resources but those of a fresh-water college, and such as their own taste, and the woods and gardens, could furnish ; but the young men were shapely and intelligent, and the young women had grace and brightness ; their hearts were in it, and in the result surely there was a measure of ' ' sweetness and light ' ' for them and those who beheld. At our little Sweetbrier I have no doubt our Hermione, when we gave the "Winter's Tale," had all the charm of Mademoiselle de Veillanne, who played Esther for Kacine and Madame de Maintenon at St. Cyr. I have no doubt our Portia, in the "Merchant of Venice," in the trial scene, her fine stature and figure robed in the doctor's long silk gown, which fell to her feet, and her abundant hair gathered out of sight into an ample velvet cap, so that she looked like a most wise and fair young judge, recited The quality of mercy is not strained, In a voice as thrilling as that in which Mademoiselle de Glapion gave the part of Mordecai. I am sure Queen Eliza- beth would think our young cavaliers, well-knit and brown from the base-ball field, " right martial knights, having swart and manly countenances." If she could have seen our Antonius, when we gave the act from Massinger's most sweet and tender tragedy of the "Virgin Martyr," or the noble Ccesar, in our selection from Beaumont & Fletcher's " False One," she would have been as ready with the guineas as she was in the case of the son of the dean of Christ Church. 166 AT ANTIOCH COLLEGE. The dramatic performances at Antioch were unique ; there was much else, also, peculiar and very pleasant. It should be distinctly said that Dr. Hosmer, more than some of his colleagues, felt even to the last, that the good results com- ing from the association of the sexes after the Antioch plan, more than counter-balanced the embarrassments . He writes, just after undertaking his work : NOVEMBER 21, 1866. Yes, even so far from the old elm trees at Concord full fifty minutes behind them in the whirl of our planet, but you may tell the old trees we shall be sure to be following on. Could I only persuade those venerable guardians of my childhood to come and glorify our college-yard, how proud of them I should be! But I will not rob Aunt Lydia, and if I would I guess the old elms would object to the journey. They are well enough off. So here we are with our implements of education and the germ of a college, one hundred and thirty-five students, and we hope in five years to have three hundred, with one hun- dred in the college classes. I live in hope to save the col- lege and make it a permanent blessing, and if having done all I can, I fail, I shall have peace. After the death of a grandchild : JUNE 25, 1869. Our dear little Eliot passed away last night about eight o'clock. Suddenly his breath ceased, and without a struggle he was gone ! The little form lies in his father's study, and at four o'clock to-day we are to lay him in our quiet cemetery. He was a dear little fellow, almost never cried, and took what came so patiently. When his DR. HO SHEETS MEMORIAL. 167 mother was sick, Jie took what rations he could get, and like a soldier, kept on with the column. He seemed determined to live, but last night, alas ! he could endure no longer. He fell out, sweet little soldier, and to-day we have a saddened sense of broken ranks and loss. JANUARY 10, 1870. You have more of a story to tell of your life than I have of mine. I am what I am not very much, but what I am without knowing why. I have come along borne by influences about me quite as much as by deci- sions and judgments of my own. I think you and I were favored by auspicious currents in getting into our profes- sions. My uncle Ruf us wished me to be a lawyer with him, and I remember you thought at one time of the ministry. Your scientific tendency and discipline would not have availed you in the ministry, and probably I have done better as a minis- ter than I should as a lawyer. My profession has always been pleasant to me. My nature has made its work, if not easy, so full of fine uplifting feeling, that I have borne hard- ship and found a joy in it. Writing has never been easy ; my thought, being born out of our emotion, has worn upon my nature, and every week I have been used up. But a good constitution and a care for recuperation have kept me along, and I am now stronger and better than I was five years ago. My coming here has been well for me. I had begun to break under the parish load. Here the points of pressure are changed, and I have grown stronger. He feels the touch of bodily infirmity, and at the same time is becoming hopeless of success in the work he has undertaken to do : MAY 1 , 1872. I have two weak points, the bronchial tubes and the bowels, cold touching the one and heat the other. I have come through the winter pretty well without 168 AT ANTIOGH COLLEGE. utter disability, but only moderately capable. Our college labors hard in the sea and makes no progress. There must be retrenchment of expense, and I think I shall retire at Commencement. A professor can act as president and be teacher, too. My thought is to retire to some quiet nook where I can fill an easy place and work along while strength lasts. So we rough-hew our ends, but God shapes them. Do you know that William is engaged to a Miss Grant, of Oswego, an excellent lady? The brilliant wedding of her parents was at Buffalo, her father then a member of Con- gress, thirty-five years ago. I remember passing the house, standing in the winter evening and gazing at the pageantry and listening to the music so strange to the Northfield minister, little thinking of the interest I was to have in the fruits of that wedding. To his daughter, at her " tin wedding " : OCTOBER 14, 1872, AT YELLOW SPRINGS. The years the years how they do fly away ! So, nearly ten since your wedding-day, when the parsonage at Buffalo was full of gifts and smiling with gladness ! So, nearly thirty-one since those two little strangers came to us for care and love, with such a dower of wealth that they were able to pay us good round prices for all that we did for them ! Hardship there has been. The parish was small, and the minister used to get sadly discouraged. Every sixpence must serve for a shilling, and debts multiplied faster than the little ones ; but we held on our way and did better as years went by. But what has all this to do with bridal and birthday felicitations? Not at all the music for the tin wedding. Begone, dull care and prosy talk come, rattle of tin ! I wish we had an old- fashioned tin-peddlers' wagon, full, to send into the Ells- worth parsonage bright and noisy. DE. HOSMEE'S MEMOEIAL. 169 To a dear friend who lay upon her death-bed : MAY 10, 1873. With deep interest I have followed you along since I heard of your serious illness. I had hoped you might revive with the spring, and I still hope. In the soft, dry air may you come back with the birds and flowers ! But from all I hear I must reverently say, as I know you are saying every day: " Not my will, but Thine be done." I hear of your patience, and faith, and trust, and I should know you would be at peace, calmly looking into immor- tality, not thinking so much of the body's failing strength and its dissolution as of the opening life of the spirit. I have never been so sick as to seem to myself just at the gates of the spiritual world. I know not, therefore, by experience how I should feel and think ; but I hope I should so stand in faith and hope and love toward God and every brother and sister of His family, that the great peace of the Father would overshadow me. Why should we dread to go onward? Why so cling to this world? This world has not much to give that you could receive. With broken health you could only expect infirmities that would withhold you from activity and give you pain. It is a kind Providence that will set the spirit free, and give it other investment in other mansions of the Father's house. I do not make great account of death ; there is no dying and going down into the grave for the spirit. It will keep on living ; dying is only of the body, and at once, I believe, the spirit enters the spiritual world, where it will have thought, and love, and will, not so very different from what we have known here, except that u we shall see as we are seen, and know as we are known." I do not trouble myself much about the cir- cumstances of the spiritual life. God has known how to suit us to our condition here, and He will know how to suit the future to us, and I can trust and rest in Him. I think we shall somehow find our friends who have gone before us. 170 AT ANTIOCH COLLEGE. The last days at Antioch were sad, but his humor remained fresh and genial : MAY 12, 1873. MY DEAR MRS. JARVIS: I must tell you what a charming visit we had from your husband. It seemed so fitting, that after forty years he should come and sit down with us four or five days, as once at Northfield. I hope he enjoyed it as much as we did. This is the last of our home here, and I am glad he came to see us as we have been seven years. But you don't know what a ten-strike the Doctor made in his speech here. The evening after he left us we had a students' reception, and everybody, and especially the young ladies, came expecting to see our pleasant guest. And such compliments as were uttered! I can't spare paper to write them down. One sentimental young lad} r thought that the Doctor and I there on the stage were like Dante and Virgil meeting, as she had seen in some picture. The Doctor may take his choice and be Dante or Virgil, and I will be the one he don't choose. Really, Almira, you had better go along with the Doctor, especially when he comes to see us. He is so attractive the young ladies go crazy, and older ones think there never was such a pleasant, genial man. A lady, after a ride with the Doctor and me, said she felt as if she had been with saints ; so you see I get compliments, too, by reflected light from the Doctor. In the year of Dr. Hosmer's removal to Antioch College, his son-in-law, Bev. William H. Savary, was settled at Ellsworth, in eastern Maine, over a new Liberal society. All the warmth of deepest parental affection and solici- tude went out in letters and visits to his far-off daughter. A sunrise grandson was written to DR. HO SHEETS MEMORIAL. 171 and caressed, in the Ellsworth parsonage. A little granddaughter was born in 1867, whose christening he came to perform with his deep Christian wealth of holy sentiment. A church edifice erected in the winter of 1866 and spring of 1867, caused unbounded praise and apprecia- tion. He preached the sermon of dedication, August 28, 1867. Until the spring of 1873, when the pastorate at Ellsworth ceased and his daughter removed with her husband to Canton, Massachusets, the summer sojourns in eastern Maine were great seasons, of giving and receiving happiness. The occasions when Dr. Hosmer filled the pulpit at Ellsworth are treasures of memory to the earnest congregation ; and educational ad- dresses, when accompanying his son-in-law in performing the duties of County Supervisor of Schools for Hancock County, awoke reverent expressions and deepest interest. THREE SCORE AND TEN. Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus Tarn cari capitis? * * * ****** * * * cui Pudor, et Justitiae soror, Incorrupta Fides, nudaque Veritas Quando ullum inveniet parem? Multis ille bonis flebilis occidit. [HORAT. CARM., 1 : 24. CHAPTER IX. AT NEWTON. 1873 Dr. Hosmer left Antioch College. .The West, which had known him so long, gave him up unwillingly. From Indianapolis, from Cleveland, from Meadville, from his old home at Buffalo, came indications which made it plain to him that he was in request at each place. His heart, however, was set upon New England. He looked forward to a retirement at Concord, modestly hoping that from time to time congre- gations might be found that would be willing to listen to the septuagenarian. Greatly to his sur- prise he found himself sought after, and almost in spite of himself was soon settled under the pleasantest circumstances as minister of the Chan- ning Church, at Newton, Massachusetts : "Here," says Dr. Bellows, " he had a pastorate and ministry of six years of such vigor and interest as is almost unexampled in a charge taken up at seventy, and carried on for more than half the decade supplementary to the three- score and ten allotted to us. The enjoyment he and his wife both had in this work on ' borrowed time ' was a remarkable tribute to the youth of heart they both shared, to the won- derful accommodativeness, so rare in old age, with which they accepted wholly new conditions and friendships, and to 176 AT NEWTON. the physical vigor which careful and prudent living had per- petuated in both. It was delightful to see the happiness with which the dear old saint continued to enter our confer- ences, and the vigor with which he poured out his religious feelings, and preached and prayed with his peculiar unction and reverence of tone and sentiment. Certainly ' he brought forth fruit in his old age.' ' The first Sunday of his Newton settlement was made memorable by a service in which old ministerial friends united with the parish to wel- come him an outpouring of hearty greeting and God-speed which opened appropriately what was destined to be a most happy term of ser- vice. NOVEMBER 12, 1873. The whole affair has come like a charm, and I am minister of Newton. I am very happy about it. Newton is a beautiful place, and the society is like a young tree without a dead branch. There is perfect harmony. I have come in among several young ministers, and I am and they are not ; but the old man may not trouble them long. We had a charming service Sunday last. In the morning I preached my beginning sermon to a fine, intelli- gent, and keenly attentive congregation. In the evening we had, not an ordination nor installation, but an informal, sympathetic service of recognition and consecration. Hon. John C. Park made a graceful introductory address. Dr. Briggs, a dear friend, my classmates, Oliver Stearns and A. P. Peabody, and Mr. Mumford, took part ; then I dismissed the uplifted people. JANUARY 13, 1874. This coming to Newton was remark- able, and it is just the thing for me at present. I have too much life yet to be contented having no special work, and DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 177 perhaps I never was working so effectively as now. It may be for a short time, or it may be longer, and when the check comes I still shall turn toward Concord. Steady, definite work is so much better than to be here, or there, or nowhere, and preaching to strangers. Had I not engaged at Newton I was to have been invited to preach this winter at Dr. Put- nam's, in Roxbury. This would have been too near the top of the ladder for a feeling of safety, and might have made me a little anxious, more so than it is best for me to be, so I am glad I am at Newton, with a very charming society, who have agreed tacitly to think nothing about their minister's age, only that he is just settled, and is not so very youth- ful as to be green and indiscreet. It does seem to be a sort of honeymoon time. To Mrs. Jarvis, after Dr. Jarvis had received a paralytic shock : MARCH 13, 1874. I want to come and see the Doctor when my coming will do him no injury, and I shall wait to hear from you. If his speech is much affected, of course visitors will weary him. His work pressed too hard upon him, and he must not think about it for the present, nor so soon as next fall. He ought to rest this year. I am keeping close to my own work ; decline outside work that would bring me into scenes of excitement. Tell the Doctor we must live as long as we can to keep the world going. But a better thought is that the Infinite Father has a great many helpers and co-laborers, here and in other spheres ; and they are coming, the younger to begin, and the older to pass on to the upper mansions. There is no lack of the rising generations ; we will only welcome the younger, while we gather up what we have made for our- selves, and prepare to go onward where we are called. The departures, lately, to me have been striking and fre- 178 AT NEWTON. quent, Judge Hall and Mr. Fillmore at Buffalo, and now Mr. Sumner. But we have not lived unmindful, and there is only the common order of the great Providence, and the present and the future are only brought nearer together by so many of our friends passing into the unseen. Reality is given to that unseen, and it is receiving so many whom we know! Calmly we will wait, accepting life gratefully while it is given to us, with strength or weakness, and take comfort in looking over the swelling flood to the sweet fields dressed in living green, all so plain to the eye of faith. Acknowledging the gift of a pair of sus- penders : JANUARY 4, 1875. There, don't I feel somewhat like a new creature ? Suspended so that neither foot can reach the ground! "Adjustable," that's it; and haven't I done it exactly? And "suspended from the point of the shoul- ders," and don't I breathe easy and feel fitted hollows and protuberances all provided for? Yes, indeed ; and how have I lived to this time without the "Edyan" suspenders? I thank you : may you never fail in your ability to make me New Years' gifts ! Now, here is a gift that means something ; it touches life it is the security of the top and bottom of the whole corporosity, every breath feels it it lets the chest expand it is very kind to the abdominal enlargement which marks the dignity of age. It is liberal in regard to good dinners none of your Puritan strictness in it. It yields, gives room, and yet to save appearances snugs up again as soon as it can, to prevent suspicion of too free living. Alas, for the poor heathen, who know nothing of the "Edyan" suspenders! Tell Aunt Sarah to hurry up and come before my suspenders, through use, which deadens our appreciation, have ceased to give spring and adjustability to my life. DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 179 He writes to the wife of his son James, a much-loved daughter-in-law, who lay at the point of death in consumption : APRIL 7, 1877. DEAREST ELIZA: I can see nothing else but that you are very sick. A sudden change must have come, and mother and I so long to see you to tell you how much we love you, and how much you have been to us ! O, how those years at Antioch come back to us, and all your affectionate sympathy and efficient aid! Still I hope, but dark shadows gather over the way of your dear life, and if we are never to see you again in this world, I thank you for all you have done for us and among us. Sometimes your kindness has been so judicious and so tender I can never forget it. You have bravely borne long and trying weakness, and not a little distress : if your constitution is so broken that life must be always burdened with suffering, then try to resign life here, and go to another mansion in the same good Father's house, and not very far from this. But the separa- tion ! O, I know I know. If it must be so, dear Eliza, we will do everything we can for your husband and the dear chil- dren. We will, so far as we can, shelter, nurture, and help them. The gracious Father will help us all, and you will not have long to wait ; those whom you leave will be coming to you. Rest, dear Eliza, in the care of God. He has led us thus far, fitted us for life here, and in what wonderful ways! God will provide there as here. So I listen and Jesus says : " I am the resurrection and the life : he that believeth in Me, though he were dead yet shall he live ; and whoso liveth and believeth in Me shall never die." I look for home, and society, and reunion there in the mansions of the Father's house. Rest and be at peace, whatever is appointed for you. Still I hope you will be better, and that we shall meet 180 AT NEWTON. next summer. If not, we will look upward, think of heavenly places, and meeting there. You and the children are in my heart, and so I commend you to God ! Eliza died April 24, 1877, and our father mourned for her as if she had been his own child. OCTOBER 3, 1877. Do you remember when far back, I think at Westford, we sometimes in a playful way cast horoscopes of our lives? They were crude, wild imaginings, as I remember them. And then afterward in the Divinity School, I remember a friend and I used to think more soberly of what would come to us. Then when life was opening, and its solemn movement was beginning to be felt, our fore- thoughts were anxiously earnest. How reality has taken the place of all those prophetic guesses. The life we then were peering into, trying to see how the lights and shadows would break and fall, as when looking at the changes of the stereopticon, lies open the book written, all ready for " Finis " to be put at the end of it. Your life is better than our guesses, every way better, higher, and happier, with wider horizon than we knew how to conceive. The good Providence has made more out of us than we dreamed of be- coming certainly this is true, though now we can think of better things than we have done, and feel sad sometimes that we have done no better. We have come very near to the end ; evening shadows about us, and the frequent de- parture of cotemporaries, tell how near. My dearest friend here died last week ; we sadly miss him, a kind, noble old man. At Concord our next neighbor was Amos Wood ; he had four sons ; Brooks was of my age. We were close friends, always playmates and schoolmates, until Mr. Wood removed to Boston when I was about eleven years old. Ten days ago DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 181 I was called to a funeral at West Newton, all strangers, the deceased lady Mrs. Wood, seventy-two years old. I sat down by the coffin, and the face impressed me. I thought, * ' You and I have lived through the same years ; I wonder what life has been to you. Who were you? " And then the thought of the Wood family came to me. I rose, went into the next room while they were getting ready, and asked a man the name of this woman's husband, and strange enough it was Brooks, and she was the widow of my old playmate ; and here, after sixty years, I came into the house of Brooks's daughter, to perform funeral services for his widow! Brooks was bright and cunning. He and I wondered about the great brass knocker on General Hildreth's front door, and how it was used, and quick as a flash, he ran up and gave it a rousing stroke and ran round the corner of the old tavern. But I stood watching for results, and one of the Miss Shepherds came to the door. Brooks was out of sight, and I got caught and had the sharp scolding. You remember that brass knocker? AUGUST 20, 1878, AT OSWEGO, N. Y. Here we are safe and sound after a charming journey. We were borne through a panorama of marvellous variety and beauty from morning till night. The Mohawk Valley was never finer, luxu- riant in every part, and the hills between Little Falls and Utica were transcendent. As evening was dropping its shades around us, the sun having withdrawn like the show- man, when his wonders had been exhibited, I began to feel chilly, so mother promptly took the shawl-straps and gave me an overcoat. I took it, but saw by the lining of the sleeves it was not mine. Gracious ! and no overcoat ! and the equinoctial due before I get home ! Do you suppose I can write what passed through me as I stood there holding up that coat? But I crammed myself into it, though it took main strength to button it. What the color of said coat may be, and to whom it belongs, who can tell ? From shells 16 182 AT NEWTON. and sea- spoils found in the pockets, it has occurred to some investigators that it must have been a part of Neptune's rig ; but how came it in mother's bundle? And then, does Nep- tune want it? All has been painfully considered, and the conclusion is to hold on upon this coat, and if Neptune comes to Saratoga, give it to him then and there. If Nep- tune wants his coat he must send word by Dolphin, Nautilus, or Whale, as he pleases. AUGUST 31, 1878, AT BUFFALO. Yesterday forenoon I went down Main Street, and did not see a person I knew, on the sidewalk, except an old beggar who used to bother me twenty years ago. I came back feeling sad that so few 3 r ears had made me such a stranger. As I came along Pearl Street, by St. Paul's, Mr. Kingsley drove along and stopped, and presently two other old friends. But Mr. Kingsley and I were left alone, and said he, " I am so glad to see you here ! We often speak of you : my wife thinks as much of you as of anybody." And then thoughtfully he said: "Well, we call ourselves Orthodox, I suppose, but I think" there he hesitated. "Yes," said I, " you think, I suppose, as I do, that we shall find ourselves nearer together than some folks think," and so we parted; and he is the senior elder of the First Presbyterian Church ! One of the pleasant episodes in the life at Newton was the informal recognition of Dr. Hosmer's seventy-fifth birthday. Our father and mother were fairly besieged in their rooms by loving friends, and most substantial tokens of regard were mingled with the words spoken. Of this occasion our father writes : NEWTON, DECEMBER 20, 1878. Do you know what a j ubilee we had on my seventy-fifth birthday ? calls all day, DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 183 eighty, from far and near thirty letters, ten beautiful books, and other articles ; an elegant russet valise, a jewel- box and in it seventy-five gold dollars, flowers, fruit, cake. Our parish were the mainspring ; their love and respect can- not be doubted. I will send you Mr. Tilden's salutation, so poetic and loving, and Dr. Newell' s, too ; you must send them back in your next letter, for they are Hannah's jewels. The tributes of Mr. Tilden and Dr. Newell are here given, and also the note of the Rev. James Freeman Clarke : TO REV. G. W. HOSMER, D. D., ON HIS SEVENTY-FIFTH BIRTHDAY. Serene old soldier of the Lord ! God bless you! And your dear wife still living, To caress you. Bright keep the years, when man and wife Together, Live on, bound close by wedded love's Sweet tether. When thus two streams of life in one Are blended, The on-flow is divine, as Heaven Intended. Hail, happy pair ! in hand and heart United, Whose love, and faith, and hope remain Unblighted; Whose afternoon of life shines on So brightly, Whose form and features Time has touched So lightly. 184 AT NEWTON. Hail to thy Indian summer! Harvest-crowned, With golden sheaves all gathered up And bound. Hail to the royal birthday Celebration, To which we send our glad Congratulation ! [W. P. TILDEN. TO REV G. W. HOSMER, D. D., WITH BIRTHDAY CON- GRATULATIONS AND AFFECTIONATE GOOD WISHES. Bless the Lord, O my soul ; who crowneth thee with loving kind- ness and tender mercies ; who satisfieth thine old age * with good, so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle's. [Ps. ciii: 1, 4, 5. Yestre'en I saw 'mid lovely clouds the sun Sink in soft glory to his evening rest, Smiling serenely on the day's work done, For all the lives his welcome light had blessed. From Orient pastures to the Western meads He had gone forth his mission to fulfil, One of God's angels to His children's needs, The loyal servant of his Master's will. Then, in the time and path marked out by Heaven, Back to the East, with strength unspent, he came, And still from merry morn to thoughtful even Shone on the world his bright, life-giving flame ; And in his work of light and love I see A fitting emblem, honored friend, of thee : Unchallenged thou hast passed the Psalmist's mark, Spite of his word hast crossed the seventy line, And still dost speak with ringing voice of cheer, And still thy soul mounts upward, like the lark, And of Time's rust and wrinkles shows no sign. So with glad thanks to God my friend's New Year He welcomes, and we with him, looking up And looking forward in the light of faith. Noyes. DR. HO SHEETS MEMORIAL. 185 We know who giveth unto each the cup Of joy or grief, long life or early death ; And knowing Him, through Christ no ill we fear, While we are true to God and Truth and Right. Safe through the evening shadows, through the night, His servants to their harbor He will steer. [W. NEWELL. JAMAICA PLAIN, November 26, 1878. DEAR DR. HOSMER : Do you remember when you arrived at Louisville on your way to Mobile, more than forty years ago ? We could hardly have looked forward then to be able to work all these years down to this time. I think that God has been very good to you and to me to let us keep at our happy tasks till now. And you are a great encouragement to us all, for if you can be as useful, active, and happy as ever at seventy- five, we will all work on in hope of a like blessing. I often say that Heaven here and hereafter con- sists in having plenty to know, to do, and to love. You have had, and have this heaven, and I can offer no better prayer for you than that you shall have it always. Ever and sin- cerely yours, JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE. Perhaps there is no severer test of the serenity of a spirit than a manifest decline in one's power which clearly betokens the necessity of retirement, and the succession of one more able to fill one's place. This has often been the hardest thing for an old man to see. From any such feeling our father was happily relieved. Indeed, so far absent was any desire to continue for a moment after his natural forces had abated, that he constantly warned the people at ISTewton that they must be looking out for his successor. 186 AT NEWTON. His parish were not inclined to hasten in the matter. They were loath to disturb the happy relations existing, and so six years wore on. At length, however, of necessity a successor was chosen, and no one exceeded Dr. Hosmer in the warmth of his welcome. On a pleasant Sunday evening in October, 1879, before a church thronged with people, an impressive part of the installation exercises of Rev. Francis B. Hornbrooke were the words of Dr. Hosmer, where in fervent speech he took off his own crown and put it upon the head of the young man who was to follow him, in the magnanimous spirit of the Baptist before Jesus : " He must increase but I must decrease." Of his ministry at Newton his successor, Rev. Mr. Hornbrooke, in his memorial discourse after Dr. Hosmer' s death, spoke as follows : Certainly he had won the right to rest. But it is those who have won that right whom the world needs most. It did not appear that his natural force was abated. Indeed, it sometimes seemed as if the promise to those " who wait upon the Lord " had been verified in him, and that he had renewed his strength. I need not speak of the success of that ministry. It is part of your parish history to-day. You know his success by the blessed influence he has left upon your hearts, by the homage he won from this com- munity. The esteem in which he was held by all was one of the first things that impressed me upon coming among you, so that I often felt a welcome was given me for his sake. To many it seemed as if the last days of Dr. Hosmer were DP. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 187 his best days. No doubt there was great truth in this ; and it was so largely true because his life was one of steady, persistent, moral, and spiritual growth. The full culmina- tion i-txfhhis higher nature more than compensated for the mok-e external attractions of earlier years. This strength and vigor had gone, and the intellectual power which belonged to them may have diminished; but the moral supremacy which he had attained lent a charm to his old age, irradiated his thought, and gave him a mastery over his great themes, and a clearness of vision which imparted increased value and impressiveness to his utterances. The truly successful man is he who has grown richer in those qualities which go to the formation of the highest form of Christian manhood, whose words are only public symbols of what he is, who has gained the victory over his lower nature, who has left a sanctifying influence wherever his presence has been felt, who leaves behind him hearts that mourn his departure, and revere him as the agency by which they have been helped to a closer knowledge of God and a tenderer and more helpful service to man. Who, in the contem- plation of such a life, does not feel it has been crowned with the only success worth having? As I sat only day before yesterday at his funeral, and thought of the hearts he had consoled, of the wise words of counsel that had dropped from his lips during the fifty years of his ministry, and had brought forth in the hearts of many who were still working, incited to generous effort by his example as I thought of the unseen, yet none the less real, influences of that stainless life, all other forms of success dwindled to nothingness in comparison. In the still presence of one who has striven and thus attained, we can understand that noble character and a life's work well done are the things that partake of eternity, while all else is Lightning that mocks the night, Brief even as bright. 188 AT NEWTON. Hon. Robert C. Pitman, of Newton, writes : Dr. Hosmer was nearly seventy-three years old when I first knew him. He had been the pastor of the church at Newton for three years when I began to reside there, and his pastorate continued only three years longer. It is evidence of the vitality of his character that at this advanced age and in so short a time he made so indelible and strong an im- pression upon me. As I think of him he recalls to my mind Margaret Fuller's fine phrase, "A spiritual man of the world," for he was companionable, sagacious, practical, wise, and at the same time so childlike and pure that you felt he had already the open vision of God. You felt that there was in him every year more and more of the eternal life. He added some- thing to the argument for immortality. But full as were all his ways, among his people, of whole- some influence and of the benediction which came from his " sweet reasonableness," the pulpit was his throne, and the service of the sanctuary his special gift. I suppose almost every discourse of the fifty years of his ministry might have been aptly characterized by the words once used by John Quincy Adams of one of his pulpit efforts: " An excellent and eminently practical sermon." If you went to church to hear a sort of concfo a,d dertim, a hash of " new views" as to the relation of science and religion, or a florid oration, you would be disappointed if the good Doctor was in the desk. But if you came wearied with controversies and theories, hungry for the " plain bread of life," longing for the rest of the beatitudes, and content with the doctrines of the Great Teacher, you would go away satisfied, refreshed, and strengthened. But above all, he made you feel you had been to the "house of worship." The most careless could not fail to be impressed with the opening sentences of Scripture given from memory and DR. HO SHEETS MEMORIAL. 189 from the heart. Nothing savored of formality or routine. The old words were wonderfully freshened with the living spirit. And the pra}^er, simple, fervent, tender, individual, and yet freighted with the consecrated phrases of the Bible, used as aptly as in venerated liturgies ! All was so like himself, so reverent and yet so natural ! I heard an educated Episcopalian say the other day that he did not see the use of the clergyman's reading the hymns, as the congregation had the printed page before them, and they were just about to be sung. That depends, I thought, on who reads them. To hear Dr. Hosmer read his favorite hymns was to catch an impression of their meaning, and to feel the inspiration of their spirit beyond what the printed page or the ordinary choir rendering could give. There are lines in the hymn-book which will ever be surcharged for me with his personality. But the grace of the Sunday service came from its being but the natural expression of the silent worship of the life. It was not the poetry but the religion of his nature, that made the whole world instinct with the Divine Presence. Dr. Arnold used to say that if a man loved a profession, it was a sign that he was either fit for it or would make him- self so. Dr. Hosmer always loved the ministry and always adorned it. He would have asked no higher eulogy than that it should be said of him, his life had been a blessing to others. That is but simple justice. CHAPTER X. LAST DAYS. <>0 fT would be wrong to pass over too hastily the period of two years intervening between his retirement from Newton and his death. They were closing years, but not inactive years marked with an earnest desire to use the strength which still remained, in helpful ministry. He took temporary charge of the parish at West Dedham while his residence was alternately at Canton and Salem. In the roughest weather he would go to his post of duty on the high hill which caught the fury of the gales. When in Salem he would set out on a Saturday afternoon satchel in hand, making the trip to Boston by rail, and thence to Dedham, where he met the stage which brought him to the waiting flock ; or if residing in Canton, he would enlist the services of his grandson, whom he laughingly called his colleague, and alike in storm or sunshine they would drive to the church on the hill-top. The earnest faces which met him there stirred his soul, and he gladly spent his strength for them. Often he preached at Canton and Salem, with scarcely any perceptible loss of power. 192 LAST DAYS. The scene at the installation of his son over the East Church in Salem, was one never to be forgotten. His part was to preach. He pre- pared a sermon with great care, and delivered it on that occasion with the true unction of the spirit : at the close he turned and invoked a fer- vent benediction upon his son. The glowing countenance softened by the mellow light, the tones of voice pathetic with the emotion of the hour the father about closing his work ad- dressing a son entering upon a new field in the prime of manhood; it was to many like Paul charging Timothy " to give diligence to present himself approved unto God, a workman that needeth not to be ashamed. Be thou sober in all things : suffer hardships, do the work of an evangelist, fulfil thy ministry ; for I am already being offered, and the time of my departure is come. I have fought the good fight. I have finished the course. I have kept the faith." We recall him as he stood one evening in Salem at a union meeting of the five Liberal churches, where he was speaking on a subject of his own choice, "Jesus, the Christ of the Father, the light of the world." He had been reading Arnold's "Light of Asia" during the week, and it roused within him an enthusiasm to set forth the character of Jesus. He was sel- dom heard to speak with such power. It was DR. HOSMER'S MEMORIAL. 193 the old man eloquent ; the noble form rose to its full height, the face glowed with an almost ethe- rial light, the voice rang out full and sweet, and the whole man was full of that ' ' action ' ' which has been described as the secret of eloquence. The great church was silent, and the audience hung upon the speaker's lips so catholic to- ward other religious leaders so desiring to do them full justice so true and loyal and broadly appreciative of Jesus' s life and work. We have still the little piece of crumpled paper he held in his hand and crushed in the heat of his enthu- siasm, which we cherish as a souvenir of what we regard as one of the best efforts of his life. Another occasion of great interest in Salem, and where he made a marked impression, was on the day of public Thanksgiving, November 27, 1879, which was also his seventy-sixth birthday. A union meeting of the five Liberal churches was held at the East Meeting-House. The pulpit was beautifully adorned with the fruits of the harvest, so abundant that year. Rich bunches of grapes were pendent from the desk over a mound of garden products rising to meet them an object-lesson of the bounty of the great Giver. The patriarch arose and spoke from the text in 1 Chronicles xi : 15-20, a pas- sage which describes David pouring water out which was brought to him at the risk of life, as IT 194 LAST DAYS. a sacrifice too holy to drink. The sermon was a reverent and grateful recognition of signal gifts through the toil, sacrifice, and suffering of well-doers a striking thought, and presented in a way that made a deep impression. The happy gathering afterward in the Salem home where, with children and grandchildren around him, he bound them together in loving words of devout thanksgiving those on earth and those in heaven was one of the occasions never to be forgotten. Here is a souvenir from that pleasant fes- tivity : THE CHILDREN'S SONG FOB GRANDPA ON HIS SEVENTY- SIXTH BIRTHDAY. Our Grandpa is a famous man; He's seventy-six to-day; He's tall and straight, of glorious weight, And high-toned every way! We children