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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bc07a9e --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51281 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51281) diff --git a/old/51281-0.txt b/old/51281-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 1b360b2..0000000 --- a/old/51281-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8635 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Elijah Kellogg, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Elijah Kellogg - The Man and His Work - -Author: Various - -Editor: Wilmot Brookings Mitchell - -Release Date: February 22, 2016 [EBook #51281] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELIJAH KELLOGG *** - - - - -Produced by David Edwards, Les Galloway and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -[Illustration: ELIJAH KELLOGG AT SIXTY-FIVE. 1878.] - - - ELIJAH KELLOGG - - THE MAN AND HIS WORK - - CHAPTERS FROM HIS LIFE AND SELECTIONS - FROM HIS WRITINGS - - EDITED BY - - WILMOT BROOKINGS MITCHELL - - PROFESSOR OF RHETORIC AND ORATORY - BOWDOIN COLLEGE - - [Illustration: Colophon] - - BOSTON - LEE AND SHEPARD - 1903 - - - COPYRIGHT, 1903, BY LEE AND SHEPARD. - - Published, November, 1903. - - _All Rights Reserved._ - - ELIJAH KELLOGG. - - - Norwood Press - J. S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith Co. - Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. - - - - - To - - FRANK GILMAN KELLOGG - - AND - - MARY CATHERINE BATCHELDER - - THIS SCANTY RECORD - - OF THE - - LIFE AND WORK OF THEIR BELOVED FATHER - - IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED - - - - -PREFACE - - -This book makes no pretence of expounding the doctrines of the -theologian or analyzing the methods of the artist. It is simply a -remembrancer of a quaint and winning man for his intimate friends and -parishioners; for the boys who have delighted in his stories; for the -sailors whose lives he saved from shipwreck; for the college students -who learned from him a wisdom not to be found in books; for all, in -fact, to whom the memory of his unique personality is dear. With the -story of his life, with anecdote and reminiscence, with selections from -his speeches, sermons, letters, and journal, it aims to recall Elijah -Kellogg as he really was: the boy, tingling with life and full of fun -to his finger tips; the college student, genial, prankish, and zealous; -the farmer-preacher, devout and resourceful, making pen and book, -scythe and hoe, seine and boat, all his ready servants to do God’s -work; the author, finding his way straight to the heart of the growing -boy; the aged man, fond as ever of the soil and the sea, and after all -the rubs and chances of a long life, still young in spirit, strong in -faith, and free from bitterness and guile. - -Acknowledgment is here due to Mr. Kellogg’s son and daughter, Mr. Frank -G. Kellogg and Mrs. Mary C. Batchelder, and to many of his intimate -acquaintances in Harpswell and Brunswick for information relating -to his early Harpswell life. Special acknowledgment is also due to -President William DeWitt Hyde for valuable advice concerning the -preparation of this book. - - W. B. M. - - BRUNSWICK, MAINE, - November 23, 1903. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - BIOGRAPHICAL CHAPTERS - - PAGE - - THE BOY 1 - - Rev. George Lewis, D.D., Pastor of Congregational - Church, South Berwick, Maine. - - COLLEGE AND SEMINARY 27 - - Henry Leland Chapman, D.D., Professor of English Literature, - Bowdoin College. - - EARLY HARPSWELL DAYS 50 - - Wilmot Brookings Mitchell, Professor of Rhetoric and - Oratory, Bowdoin College. - - THE SEAMAN’S FRIEND 74 - - George Kimball, Dorchester, Mass. - - AS SEEN THROUGH A BOY’S EYES 94 - - Judge William Oliver Clough, Nashua, N.H. - - KELLOGG THE AUTHOR 115 - - Wilmot Brookings Mitchell. - - LAST DAYS IN HARPSWELL 141 - - As Seen in Letters and Journal. - - REMINISCENCES 169 - - General Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain, LL.D., Ex-Governor - of Maine and Ex-President of Bowdoin College. - - A TRIBUTE 190 - - Rev. Abiel Holmes Wright, A.M., formerly Pastor of - St. Lawrence Street Church, Portland, Maine. - - - - - SELECTIONS FROM WRITINGS - - DECLAMATIONS: - - - Spartacus to the Gladiators 205 - - Regulus to the Carthaginians 211 - - Hannibal at the Altar 217 - - Pericles to the People 225 - - Icilius 229 - - Decius 236 - - Leonidas 241 - - The Centurion 248 - - Virginius to the Roman Army 254 - - General Gage and the Boston Boys 259 - - The Wrecked Pirate 265 - - - SPEECHES: - - “An Ounce of Prevention” 271 - - Delivered in Boston in 1861. - - Religious Worship Early in the Century 276 - - Delivered at Portland, Maine, Centennial Celebration, - July 4, 1886. - - At Bowdoin Commencement, June 25, 1890 287 - - At Centennial Celebration of Bowdoin College, - June 28, 1894 297 - - Love 306 - - Delivered at “Donation Party” at Harpswell, September - 18, 1894. - - The Deluded Hermit 310 - - Delivered at “Donation Party,” October 1, 1895. - - Home 314 - - Delivered at “Donation Party,” October 19, 1897. - - SERMONS: - - The Prodigal’s Return 321 - - Wresting the Scriptures 338 - - The Beauty of the Autumn 357 - - To Bowdoin Students, October, 1889. - - The Anchor of Hope 361 - - Preached at the Second Parish Church, Portland, - August 5, 1900, “Old Home Week.” - - A Prayer 367 - - Memorial Day, 1883, Brunswick. - - VERSE: - - From “The Phantoms of the Mind” 373 - - The Demon of the Sea 374 - - Portland 378 - - An Ode 379 - - Written for the Semi-centennial Celebration at Bowdoin - College, August 31, 1852. - - A Hymn 381 - - Written for the Celebration of the Twenty-eighth - Anniversary of the Boston Seaman’s Friend Society, - May 28, 1856. - - True Poetry’s Task 382 - - MISCELLANEOUS: - - Memories of Longfellow 387 - - Ben Bolt 394 - - Ma’am Price 404 - - The Discontented Brook 413 - - COMPLETE LIST OF BOOKS 423 - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - - Elijah Kellogg at 65. 1878 _Frontispiece_ - - FACING PAGE - - Rev. Elijah Kellogg, 1796. Father of Elijah Kellogg. - _From a Miniature_ 8 - - Mrs. Eunice McLellan Kellogg. Mother of Elijah - Kellogg 28 - - House on Cumberland Street, Portland, Maine, in - which Elijah Kellogg lived when a boy 48 - - Elijah Kellogg’s Church at Harpswell, Maine 56 - - Hannah Pearson Pomeroy Kellogg. Wife of Elijah - Kellogg 68 - - Elijah Kellogg at 43. 1856 80 - - Elijah Kellogg’s Home at Harpswell, Maine 114 - - View of the Kellogg Homestead, Harpswell, Maine 140 - - Aunt Betsy and Uncle William Alexander, for fifty - years nearest neighbors and dear friends of Elijah - Kellogg 168 - - Casco Bay as seen near Kellogg Homestead, Harpswell, - Maine 188 - - I. Frank Gilman Kellogg. Son of Elijah Kellogg. - II. Mrs. Mary Kellogg Batchelder and Baby - - Eleanor Batchelder. Daughter and granddaughter - of Elijah Kellogg 202 - - Elijah Kellogg at 77. 1890 288 - - Elijah Kellogg at 80. 1893 306 - - Interior View of Elijah Kellogg’s Church at Harpswell, - Maine 356 - - Elijah Kellogg at 86. 1899 384 - - - - -ELIJAH KELLOGG: THE BOY - -GEORGE LEWIS - - -It is much easier to read the boy after you see and know the man than -it is to read the man when you see and know only the boy. Manhood may -be the unfolding of the various forces and dispositions of boyhood, -but this unfolding must take place before the boyhood itself can be -comprehended. The mill must grind the wheat into flour and the flour -be baked and eaten before we can know how good the kernels of wheat -are. So we must see Elijah Kellogg as a man before we can fairly -estimate him as a lad. When we hear him preach or when we read some of -his books, then we know there was something in him when a child more -than mere roguery and fun. Genius was there. Powers and faculties were -there which, when trained by judgment and directed by piety, made him -the preacher to whom men and women loved to listen, and the writer of -books that captivated the hearts of all boys. - -This man first saw the light May 20, 1813, in a house on Congress -Street in Portland, Maine, where dwelt the pastor of the Second -Congregational Church of the city. The baby was called Elijah because -that was the father’s name; and the father at his birth had been called -Elijah because of the famous prophet in Israel who bore the name. At -the father’s birth it was said by his parents, “We must have a prophet -in the family.” So the name Elijah was given to the boy and he proved -a prophet not in name only, but in reality as well. The Rev. Elijah -Kellogg, pastor of the Second Congregational parish in Portland during -the latter part of the eighteenth and early part of the nineteenth -centuries, was no mean representative of the old Hebrew prophet. The -famous name sat well and appropriately upon the younger man. Had the -Rev. Mr. Kellogg lived in the days of Ahab, of infamous memory, we may -be very sure he would have stood beside the old prophet in his stout -resistance to that wicked king; and had the Hebrew prophet been born in -New England in the eighteenth century he would have sympathized warmly -with his young namesake as he buckled on his belt and beat the drum for -the patriots at the battle of Bunker Hill, and put forth all his skill -and strength to free the colonies from the selfish and tyrannical rule -of George III. There never yet was a true prophet of God in any land -whose heart did not beat warmly for larger popular liberty and for a -higher type of righteousness. Every prophet looks toward a sunrising -that shall bring to earth a better day. - -Elijah Kellogg, Sr., was but a boy at the opening of our Revolutionary -struggle, but he was a boy of high spirit, of dauntless courage, and -of most generous impulses. He derived these qualities of character -from two distinct sources. These sources were, first, his ancestry, -and second, the neighborhood where he was born, viz., South Hadley, -Massachusetts. A boy could hardly be born and reared in the atmosphere -of Hampshire County, Massachusetts, especially around Northampton -and the Hadleys at that period of time, and be anything other than a -freedom-loving patriot. It was a region of country favorable to the -growth of heroes. Settled by stanch and sturdy Puritans, its people -had for many years been sternly disciplined by the Indian troubles. -No pusillanimous and faint-hearted men could by any means live long in -that section. Only men of courage and strength could abide there. The -Kelloggs proved what stuff they were made of, for the family had been -living there for more than a century when Elijah came upon the scene. -They were there when the regicide judges, Whalley and Goffe, pursued by -the rancorous hatred of Charles II., sought an asylum in New England. -Those men came first to New Haven for shelter, but even there they were -not safe from the emissaries of the king. The protection, however, that -New Haven could not afford them, Hadley could. Among the steel-hearted -men of that up-river country they found safety. In that region was -an association of liberty-loving souls, which, better than woods and -better than caves, made life safe for those men who had helped behead -a faithless king and had thereby given the cause of political and -religious freedom a great uplift. Some towns are vastly better for boys -to be born in than other towns are. South Hadley was one of the “better -towns,” where Elijah Kellogg, Sr., saw the light for the first time in -the year 1761. - -Furthermore, there was good blood in the Kellogg veins irrespective -of their geography. They were a worthy race anywhere and in all -circumstances. Among the ancestors of this prophet-named lad were men -who had borne the banner of the cross in Palestine with Richard of -the Lion Heart, and others who had been true and stanch men in the -Wars of the Roses and during the great reigns of Henry VIII. and Queen -Elizabeth, and still others there were who a little later for their -conscience’ sake had come to America. With such an ancestry as that -and with a birthplace like South Hadley, it is no wonder that we find -young Kellogg at Bunker Hill, where were fired the opening guns of the -Revolution; or that a little later he endured the privations of Valley -Forge and fought at Monmouth. He was, however, formed for scholarship -rather than for military life, and after the war he entered and -graduated at Dartmouth College. In 1788 the Second Church of Portland -gave him a call to their pastorate. He accepted the call, and after -this time Portland was his home as long as he lived. - -Elijah Kellogg, Jr., had a good deal come to him from his father’s side -of the house. He also had a good deal come to him from his mother’s -side. This mother of his had once been Eunice McLellan. Her father -was Captain Joseph McLellan and her mother was Mary, daughter of Hugh -and Elizabeth McLellan, who had been among the earliest settlers of -Gorham, Maine. Eunice, therefore (Mrs. Kellogg), was a McLellan of the -McLellans. The family were Scotch-Irish people, and were descended -from old Sir Hugh, who was knighted in the year 1515, and the race -was one of strong family characteristics. Even at the present time -they are somewhat clannish, and to this day throughout New England the -name McLellan is regarded by him who bears it as a sort of patent of -nobility; and all agree that there are few if any names in the country -more worthy of respect and honor than that one. - -Joseph McLellan was a born sailor if ever there was one, an adventurous -rover of the seas, always happiest when on blue water with a good ship -under his feet and a stiff breeze blowing him along his course. This -man sent his own disposition down the family stream, and gave to his -grandson Elijah a generous share of that same roving and adventurous -spirit. The story is told that on the birth of an infant daughter to -Joseph and Mary the parents decided to call her Esther, or as it was -pronounced in those days, Easter. The babe was taken to the church -that she might be baptized at the hands of the Rev. Mr. Deane. At the -font the name of the child was handed to the clergyman, Easter, upon -which he broke out, “Easter! Easter! That is no good name for a girl. -Call her after my wife. Call her Eunice. Eunice, I baptize thee,” etc. -The deed was done, and the child was Eunice in spite of both father -and mother. The baby thus curiously named became in due time the wife -of Parson Kellogg and the mother of the subject of this sketch. The -McLellans were a canny folk. They had fought for Scottish liberty in -many a sharp tug with the Saxons in the old days. They had helped -fight the battles of the Covenanters at a later period, and now in -the eighteenth century, transferred to America, they still kept up -the fight and played their part on many a field, from Bunker Hill to -Yorktown. - -Blood will tell. Family traits will be transmitted. Sons will in some -degree resemble sires. With an ancestry on both sides like that -sketched above, it is no great wonder that the subject of this volume -became the man he did. He had a good start. There was in him a goodly -fund of inherited gifts. In the book,“Good Old Times,” which is Mr. -Kellogg’s story of the McLellan family (his grandmother’s branch of -it more particularly), the author lets us see how largely his own -personal character was formed and his whole life influenced by the -traditions and stories of the men and women of the family, recounted -as those stories were at the fireside in the winter evenings, and told -over again in the daytime as men and boys were doing their work in the -woods and in the fields. The boy was perfectly happy when listening -to these tales of pioneer life, made up as they largely were of -homely and commonplace incidents and yet of really adventurous deeds. -They were tales of conflict with the Indians, in which the McLellan -fairness and good sense always won the respect of the savages and in -most cases secured their good will and good treatment; of encounters -with bears and wolves and other wild beasts, where man’s craft and -skill gained the victory; and experiences with cold and hunger and -hardships of the wilderness, in which Christian faith and the McLellan -pluck overcame all odds and achieved a good measure of prosperity. -Things like these were the folk-lore of the Gorham people rather than -stories of round tables and fairies and ghosts and witches. This boy, -like Carlyle, came to have a great admiration for the “man who could -do things.” The ideal hero of Elijah Kellogg’s early boyhood was the -hearty, warm-hearted, rough-handed, whole-souled pioneer who never -turned his back upon a foe, whether biped or quadruped, and who never -blenched in the face of a difficulty or a danger. He was the man who -had in himself resources that were always called out and brought into -exercise when obstacles were encountered, and invariably rose superior -to the obstacles and made the man complete master of the situation, -however bad that situation appeared. As he would have phrased it, he -liked the man who never got whipped. The white man who could outwit -an Indian or outhug a bear or outrun a pack of wolves was a man to be -admired. The man who could fell a forest and clear a farm and put the -soil to the production of corn and wheat was a man to be admired. This -hero of Kellogg’s childhood was never entirely dethroned from the heart -of the man. To the end of his days he loved that man who, using his own -native strength, could bridle and ride the storm, or over the rudest -billows of the ocean could bring his vessel into port. - -[Illustration: REV. ELIJAH KELLOGG. 1796. -Father of Elijah Kellogg. _From a miniature._] - -It is almost superfluous to say that the man who wrote such books for -boys as are the Elm Island and the Pleasant Cove series of stories was -himself, when a lad, what would be called to-day an irrepressible. -Without the least spice of malice or any suggestion of real harm in -his nature, Elijah Kellogg was as full of mischief as a spring is of -water, and it was simply impossible for parents and guardians to keep -him within the bounds of Puritan propriety. It weighed not one jot -with him that grave ministers and dignified elders of the church were -among his forbears. It never occurred to him that because his father -was a clergyman therefore he, the boy, should not go with other boys -on Sunday morning to enjoy a frolic and take a swim in the waters of -Back Cove, well out of sight from the parsonage windows, though of -course such things on the Lord’s Day were strictly forbidden. Elijah’s -proclivities were well known, and many were the family traps that were -set for his ensnarement. But he had great facility for getting out -of scrapes as well as getting into them. He did not, however, always -escape detection. On one occasion, for example, the Sunday morning -swim and games had been too fascinating for his boyish discretion, and -had held him at the water until the public services for the morning at -the church had closed. Elijah went home to meet his father, who had -missed the boy from his proper seat in the family pew. That meeting -between father and son can be more easily imagined than described, -especially if the reader happens to be the child of a stern Puritan -church-goer, and has himself been guilty of escapades on Sunday. To the -question, “Where have you been this morning?” the boy replied without -hesitation that he had been to the Methodist meeting. He heard his -father preach every Sunday, and he had become a little tired of hearing -one voice, and he wanted to hear what some other man had to say. Of -course the next question was, “What was the preacher’s text?” Elijah -was ready for this and at once gave chapter and verse and repeated -the passage. But the inquisition did not stop here; he must now give -some account of the sermon. This seemed a perfectly easy matter to the -young culprit. He had heard a good many sermons, and he felt very sure -that he could report one even though he had not listened to it at all. -But here he was caught. He had never heard anything but the rigid, -old-school, Calvinistic doctrines, and it never entered his head that -one minister did not always preach like another. It was therefore a -sound Calvinistic sermon that this young reporter put into the mouth of -the Methodist minister. He was soon brought up short with the paternal -remark: “Elijah, stop right there. Now I know you are lying. No -Methodist minister ever preached like that. Your whole story is false. -You have spent your morning down by the water.” - -When Elijah was some ten or eleven years old he was taken to Gorham, -and spent some months in the home of Mrs. Lothrop Lewis. Mrs. Lewis -had a young daughter whom she wished put into a Portland school, and -an exchange of children was made with the Kelloggs, they taking the -girl into their home and Mrs. Lewis taking the boy into hers. This -exchange was in many respects a grateful one to the boy. The country -was the place for him. There was more freedom there, more room and -more chance for fun than in town. Perhaps, too, the fact that his -father was nine miles away had its alleviations, for the presence of -a father, however dearly he was loved, was a damper on the spirit of -prankishness. While with Mrs. Lewis, Elijah certainly made mischief -for everybody, but at the same time he made friends of everybody, for -none could help loving the bright and lively fellow. In due time the -boy went back to Portland. But the city was no place for a lad like -him. He chafed under its restraints, and cared but little for its -schools. He was like a sea-gull shut up in a cage. As the imprisoned -gull pines for the freedom of wind and wave so did the heart of Elijah -Kellogg long for the free winds and the rolling waters and the ships -that went sailing away to distant ports. It was a longing that could -not be suppressed, and no one can really blame him that before he was -thirteen years old he had found his way on board a ship and become -a sailor in downright earnest. I am sure that the boys who read his -books are not sorry that the hand that wrote those stories gained some -of its cunning by pulling ropes, furling and unfurling sails, taking -his trick at the wheel, and sharing actively in whatever pertained -to the handling and management of vessels. He loved the sea, and was -fascinated by the strange sights and sounds of foreign countries. He -was a keen observer for a boy just entering his teens, and he gained -much valuable knowledge as he wandered round the world borne along by -the wings of a ship. But in his roving he never for one moment forgot -his home. His heart was warm and true to the friends who were there. -Letters written to his father from different quarters of the world are -now in existence, and they bear full testimony to his ardent affection -for home and friends. His love for friends was perhaps the strongest -element of his nature, even stronger than his love of adventure, and in -due time that love brought him back from his travels no longer to sail -the seas except in small boats near the shore. In the story of “Charlie -Bell,” Mr. Kellogg (unconsciously, no doubt) has given us the picture -of a boy’s nature and disposition very much like his own. - -After returning from sea Elijah found Portland and Portland ways no -more congenial to him than they had been before he went away, and -again he left home and went to Gorham to try life among his McLellan -relatives. He lived for a time in the family of Major Warren on a farm -some two miles out of the village, matching his own strength of muscle -with that of the regular farm-hands. He was not there a great while, -however. Rev. Mr. Kellogg came out from Portland and interviewed Mr. -Alexander McLellan, a near relative of his own wife, and the result -of that interview was that Elijah was, after the fashion of the time, -indentured as an apprentice to Mr. McLellan to do general work on -the place for the period of one year. The purpose of this indenture, -however, was rather to restrain and hold him in one stated place than -to make a servant of him, for he became at once a true member of the -family “in good and regular standing.” He took his position and did -his share of the work on the place in a faithful and orderly manner. -His experience on the ship had been of great benefit to him. He had -there learned the lessons of obedience and of industry,--lessons -absolutely essential for every boy to learn if he would ever arrive -at a worthy maturity. Now, instead of blocks and ropes and belaying -pins, his tools were the plough, the hoe, the scythe, and the axe, and -while using these he could almost fancy himself a pioneer. All this -was a very wholesome kind of life and a right life in its way. Still -it was no proper life for such a young man as by this time Elijah -Kellogg had become. All his friends seemed to feel the incongruity of -it, and the truth of this began to dawn upon himself, also. He began -to feel, and to feel very strongly, that this sort of life was not -up to his own level. The bird is for a life higher than the ground, -and in like manner he was for something higher than the farm. There -was a real genius in the soul of this boy that was reaching up toward -intellectual exercises. Decks of ships, fields of corn, loads of -lumber, were all good, but for him there was something better. The play -of intellect appealed to him now more than the play of muscle did. All -the associations in the family where he lived and those throughout the -village were such as to encourage and foster this new ambition. This -new feeling, this new ideal which was fast taking possession of his -mind, was only an indication that the doors of boyhood were closing -and the doors of manhood were beginning to open. He was gradually -coming to understand himself and to have a dawning perception of -some God-given powers, which, if they were properly trained, might -result in the accomplishment of fine things. This vision of what he -might sometime perform, if he would, rose to the front, and for the -time assumed the leadership of his life. He was as obedient to this -vision as Saint Paul was obedient to the vision he had near the city -of Damascus, or as Abraham Lincoln was obedient to those dreams and -visions that he had while he was managing the flatboat on the great -river. The McLellan family, where he was living, were heartily in -sympathy with this new development. From oldest to youngest they all -felt that it was not a proper thing that this young man who was so -gifted and who showed so many marks of a true genius should spend his -energies on the farm and in the shop. There is iron for the place of -iron and steel for the place of steel and silver for that of silver. -This was a piece of silver, and he ought to take his proper place. It -is needless to say how much this _change of aim_ on the part of Elijah -gladdened the heart of his own father. It was indeed a day of general -thanksgiving when this young man put himself in the way of a higher -intellectual development and entered Gorham Academy as one of its -students. This was one of the best academies in the country at that -day. Its presiding genius was Master Nason who was known far and wide, -not only as one who could keep rude boys in subjection to school rules -by a liberal use of the birch, but as one who possessed faculty and -power to stir the minds of pupils and impart to them rich stores of -knowledge. New England has seen few instructors equal to Master Nason. -The names of boys whom, in the old Academy at Gorham, he fitted for -college, have in several instances become known all over the country, -and some are known round the world. The Academy is proud of its roll of -graduates, and those who studied under Mr. Nason have always been proud -of their teacher. - -Young Kellogg now put himself squarely down to hard work. He was older -than are most boys when they take up the higher branches of study and -begin to point their way definitely toward college, and he studied -and worked in the Academy like one who is trying to make up for lost -time. Such an intensity of application to books as was his at this -time would have broken down many students; but Kellogg had a rare stock -of good health and physical strength. He could well stand the strain -of hard study. He had a well-knit frame. He never forgot how much of -his own power of endurance he derived from his sturdy habits of toil -in field and forest. He never forgot what a good physical basis for -intellectual work manual labor gives one. In one of the college boys of -his creation in the Whispering Pine series of books--Henry Morton--he -shows the close connection between that young man’s hoe and axe and his -leadership of the college class. When Mr. Kellogg did this, he knew -very well what he was talking about. Seventy years ago these things -largely took the place of the athletic field of our time, and they -filled that place very well, too. An old fogy may perhaps be pardoned -for saying that in spite of all the excitement and glory of base-ball -and foot-ball and running and leaping and boating, still the oil of hoe -handle has its virtues as a medicine for students. - -The life of young Kellogg shows distinctly two points of turning. The -first one was when he wakened to the consciousness of his mental -powers; when he realized something of what he was and determined that -he would live on the high level of his intellectual self. A young horse -that has in him the elements of speed to win a race on the track is -trained for the track. The horse of great weight is put into the truck -team. Animals are put in training, according to what they are. When -Kellogg realized something of his own intellectual power, then he put -himself in training for an intellectual life. He therefore went into -the Academy that he might fit for college. After he had begun work in -the Academy there came to him another consideration, and he asked the -question: “Is a life of mere scholarship the highest and best one of -which I am capable?” He felt surely that he ought to live up to the -level of his mind, but he began to feel that there was some power in -himself superior to that of brains and that that higher power should be -developed and his own life should be devoted to that which was supreme. -He felt strongly that he should not allow the spiritual element of his -nature to lie dormant or go to waste. The diamond that is not ground on -the wheel is just as hard as the one that is ground, but it does not -sparkle and flash like the one on which the lapidary has spent his -skill. The uncut diamond is like the man who stops in the classical -school and does not care for the infinitely finer work that religion -does for him. Mr. Kellogg felt that it was not enough for him to have -power. The power that was in him should be dedicated to the divinest -ends. It should be religiously dedicated and consecrated. This was -the second turning of his life, and when it was made he had become an -earnest and devoted Christian. He understood Christianity to mean that -he should employ the faculties and powers of his own nature in helping -other people to lead better and more wholesome lives. Christianity -meant more than self-culture; it meant self-giving. If there was in -himself (as there certainly was) a large element of fun, this was by no -means to be suppressed or sent into eclipse. Religion would not maim -him that way any more than religion would clip the wings of a robin and -make a mole of the bird. But religion would take that spirit of fun -and cause it to play and shine and work for the production of purer -thinking and cleaner living and higher aiming among all young people. - -It was in obedience to this new spirit that Elijah went to work at -once outside of the Academy as well as in it, and he then started some -streams of religious influence that have by no means ceased running -even to this day. Among the things he did at this period was to go -into a certain neighborhood not many miles from Gorham and start a -Sunday-school. It seems easy enough to _say_ that the young man went -into a certain place and organized a Sunday-school, but from all -accounts it was by no means an easy or even a safe thing for that young -man to do. Three score and odd years ago--long before the days of Neal -Dow and the Maine Law--there were certain regions here and there in -the State where those people who were ignorant and given to drink and -other forms of vice were sure to congregate like birds of ill omen, and -there would be a neighborhood from which respectable people would keep -away. Such a community was a multiplied Ishmael whose hand was against -every man and every man’s hand against it. On one of these disreputable -districts Elijah’s attention became fixed. With two or three of the -people who lived there he had in some way become acquainted, and he -“felt a call” to preach in that place. But even Elijah Kellogg, young, -brave, and stout-hearted as he was, shrank from going there alone with -an invitation to a Sunday-school to be sent abroad among that class of -folk. He feared what might come from such a movement, and wished for a -companion to share his fortunes. He appealed to a young friend, George -L. Prentiss, afterward for many years an honored professor in Union -Theological Seminary in New York, to go with him. But the response -of Prentiss to this request was not favorable. “No, Elijah,” was his -word,“I don’t dare to go down there. They will kill us if we do.” Then -after a moment’s pause, “I’ll tell you what I will do. If you go down -there and start a Sunday-school and don’t get killed, I’ll come in -later and help you.” But Elijah had set his heart on doing the bit of -work, and was not to be scared out of it. He started on his mission -alone, and I doubt if Judson on his way to India, or Livingstone -going to Africa, did a more heroic thing than that. He did start a -Sunday-school, and he did get the people interested in both himself and -his school, and through his influence the community was transformed, -and to-day the descendants of those people are an intelligent, -God-fearing, church-going, high-minded class of citizens, and they -are such because of Mr. Kellogg. He never forgot them, and they never -forgot him. The writer of this article was present in company with -Mr. Kellogg at the fiftieth anniversary of the inauguration of that -school. The season was mid-summer. The day was Sunday. The place was -the church. The audience was everybody who lived in the district, -supplemented by a large number who had driven thither from Portland, -Westbrook, Gorham, Scarboro, and Saco. The larger share of those who -had gathered were not able to get inside the church, but they crowded -as close to the wide open windows as possible and heard what they -could. After brief introductory exercises, Mr. Kellogg preached a most -beautiful and touching sermon of some twenty minutes’ length. Then -the Bible was closed, and a period of story-telling began. There were -present some four or five persons who remembered the “first day of -school” fifty years before. They all talked. Reminiscences were called -up, old scenes revived, old stories told, old experiences related, and -the old time was contrasted with the new. It was all of it immensely -funny. Sometimes it was crying, but a good deal more it was laughing. -My own feeling at the moment was that it was fortunate the windows were -open, for otherwise the house must have burst. I do not think there -ever was another church than that since churches were built where was -heard so much laughter and manifested so much fun and wit on Sunday. - -Mr. Kellogg got through with the Academy, and entered Bowdoin College -in 1836. It is worthy of note that in all his long life he never -shuffled off the boy. It was not a mere memory on his part that he once -was a boy. The genuine boy was never a memory with him, but was always -a present reality. In one sense he was as young at eighty as he was at -eighteen. Boys were his mates always. There are men who, like Oliver -Wendell Holmes, never grow old, and Mr. Kellogg was one of them. To -the very last his lips would smile and his eyes would twinkle as he -recalled some prank of his boyhood or told tales of those who had been -his companions on the ship and on the farm and in the school. He never -forgot a friend, and he certainly never forgot a funny or laughable -incident. His own perennial boyhood has cheered and made more noble an -almost numberless band of young lives throughout the country, and may -the time be long before the young people of the land shall cease to -read his wholesome books. - - - - -COLLEGE AND SEMINARY - -HENRY LELAND CHAPMAN - - -It was in 1836, in the twenty-fourth year of his age, that Elijah -Kellogg entered Bowdoin College as a Freshman. His father had been -one of the earliest and firmest friends of the college. As one of -the Cumberland County Association of Ministers he had joined in the -petition to the General Court of Massachusetts for the establishment -of a collegiate institution in the province of Maine. When in answer -to the petition of the ministers, and of the Court of Sessions of -Cumberland County, the college was incorporated in 1794, Mr. Kellogg -was named as one of the first board of overseers. Four years later -he became a trustee, and continued to hold that official relation to -the college until 1824. During his boyhood, therefore, and before he -cherished any purpose or desire to enjoy its privileges, Elijah must -have heard, within the family circle, much about the college which -was so great an object of interest and pride to his father, as it -was, indeed, to the whole community. It was but natural, therefore, -when his purpose was seriously formed to seek a college training in -preparation for his father’s calling of the ministry, that Bowdoin, -aside from its proximity to his home, should be the college of his -choice. But his course collegeward was interrupted and delayed by -various circumstances, and particularly by personal tastes that were -quite other than scholastic. Always a lover of the sea, and delighting -in the tales of sea life and adventure to which he listened from the -lips of sailors themselves along the Portland wharves, it is not -strange that the call of the sea sounded louder than any other in his -ears. So, listening to the call, he shipped before the mast, and for -three years lived the hard and perilous life of a sailor. It is true -that the experience, which may have been useful to him in other ways -also, was an admirable preparation for the brilliant service which he -afterwards performed as chaplain of the Sailor’s Home in Boston, but in -the meantime it made him late in entering upon his college life. It is -to be said, however, that of his thirty classmates six were as old -as himself. - -[Illustration: MRS. EUNICE MCCLELLAN KELLOGG. -Mother of Elijah Kellogg.] - -We must look to certain volumes of the Whispering Pines series, and -particularly to the volumes entitled “The Spark of Genius,” “The -Sophomores of Radcliffe,” and “The Whispering Pine,” for a picture -of his college life, true in its general features, and graphic like -everything from Mr. Kellogg’s pen. These books, which have been read -with eager interest by so many generations of boys, describe Bowdoin -College, its professors, students, customs, and manners as they were -known to Elijah Kellogg during the years of his residence there from -1836 to 1840. If they seem to be devoted largely to a recital of pranks -and mischief and practical jokes among the students, it is partly -because such things made a stronger appeal to scheming brains, and -youthful fellowship, and leisure hours in those days, before athletic -sports enlisted, as they have since enlisted, the restless energy and -high spirits and intense rivalry of college boys; and partly, also, it -was because his native sense of humor and love of fun, his spirit of -adventure and personal courage, constituted an ever present temptation -to him to share or lead in enterprises which demanded wariness and -cunning and pluck, and which promised the discomfiture of some boastful -and unloved fellow-student, or the perplexed disapproval of the college -authorities, or the entertainment of a college community always keenly -appreciative of a diverting sensation. So alive was he to this phase -of student activity, and so conspicuous was he among his mates for -resourcefulness and courage, that he became, in the popular opinion of -his time and in subsequent tradition, the hero of many an escapade with -which he had no connection. One instance, however, of strenuous effort -quite outside his college duties seems to be well authenticated, and -will serve to show the kind of mischievous exploit which was attractive -enough to enlist his cooperation. - -The president of the college during the first three years of Kellogg’s -course was a man of great dignity and reserve. He held himself quite -aloof from the students, neither inviting nor allowing any freedom of -social intercourse. Partly on this account he was unpopular with the -student body, and the solemn reserve in which he intrenched himself -seemed, in their eyes, to make any infringement, however slight, of -his personal dignity particularly humorous. There was much irreverent -laughter, therefore, when it was whispered about on one occasion that -the silk hat which the president was accustomed to wear, and which -seemed the very crown and symbol of his formal stateliness, had been -stolen, and was in the hands of some of the students. When it came -to the ears of Kellogg he remarked that if he knew the boys that had -the hat he would put it on the top of the chapel spire. Of course the -interesting information was not long withheld from him, and in the -darkness of a showery night he climbed sturdily up by the slender -and insecure pathway of the lightning-rod, and placed the hat on the -very top, where, in the morning, it met the dismayed vision of the -president, and received the boisterous salutations of the college. -That was Kellogg’s contribution to the deed of mischief. To steal the -hat was a petty and foolish trick, such as might be perpetrated by a -half-witted person, a coward, or a thief; but to carry it through the -darkness to the top of the chapel spire required a clear head, a stout -heart, good muscle, and nerve, and these Elijah Kellogg possessed, both -in youth and manhood. - -In reading these books, which tell the substantial history of his life -at Bowdoin, it is quite evident that, with all the interest he took -in the pastimes and pranks of his associates, he was not unmindful -of the high and serious purpose of a college course. He maintained a -consistent ideal of personal integrity and helpfulness and truth. It -is the repeated testimony of those who were in college with him that -his influence upon his fellow-students was in a high degree stimulating -and wholesome. “He was,” says one who knew him well in the intimacy of -college association, “universally popular, but he had his own chosen -favorites, and one characteristic of him was his strong personal -affection for them. His soul burned with love to those whom he loved. -This was one secret of his power for good, for his influence upon them -was always good.” An unaffected scorn of what was mean or false, and an -eagerness to recognize and to make the most of every good and generous -trait in his companions, were as characteristic of him as was his -light-hearted, fun-loving disposition, and it is easy to see why he won -both the respect and love of those who were admitted to his friendship. - -These engaging qualities of his youth were no less those of his age, -and they made him throughout life the friend of boys and the favorite -of boys. He never lost the spirit of sympathy and comradeship with -young men, and as his home, during the later years of his life, was -not far from the college that he loved, he had a double motive to -revisit, from time to time, the scene of those labors and frolics and -friendships which he had so charmingly depicted in the Whispering -Pine books. Accordingly he presented himself, now and then, either -unexpectedly or upon invitation, at the door of some undergraduate -member of his college fraternity, the Alpha Delta Phi, and became, for -as long as he would stay, a welcome and honored guest. - -It did not take long for the news to spread that Elijah Kellogg was -in college; and then the hospitable room would be visited by many -callers, eager to greet the shy, weather-beaten little man, whose heart -was always warm for boys, and even the mazy wrinkles of whose face -seemed to speak less of age than of kindness. And by the evening lamp -an interested circle of students forgot the morrow’s lessons as they -listened to stories of olden time, and to quaint words of counsel and -comment as they fell from the visitor’s lips. When the circle finally -dissolved, and Mr. Kellogg and his entertainers were left alone, a -psalm, which seemed somehow to gain new meaning from his reading of it, -and a simple earnest prayer, brought the long evening to a fitting and -memorable close. - -It is interesting, moreover, to notice, as an evidence of the profound -regard and affection which the Bowdoin students felt for Mr. Kellogg, -that when, in 1901, they published a volume of Bowdoin tales, no other -dedication of the book was thought of than the one which inscribes -it to the memory of Elijah Kellogg, “who celebrated his Alma Mater -in story, honored her by practical piety, and won the hearts of her -boys, his brethren.” If he was not eminent in the prescribed studies -of the college, neither was he neglectful of them, nor unfaithful to -them. Perhaps his enjoyment of college fellowships and his love of -fun interfered to some extent with his devotion to the classics and -mathematics, which made up a large part of the curriculum, and, in -addition, the necessity under which he lay of providing for his own -expenses must have diverted a part of his energies from study to -manual toil. But whether at work, at play, or at study, he was hearty -and resourceful. An incident, as told by himself, illustrates this -trait of his character, and, incidentally, introduces the president -whose sombre dignity provoked the stealing and subsequent disposal of -his hat, as already related. - -“I had to work my way through college,” said Mr. Kellogg, “and I -boarded with a woman named Susan Dunning. I came to her house one -Saturday. There was a deep snow on the ground, and college was to open -Monday. She was feeling very blue because her well-sweep had broken. -I told her not to mind, I’d fix it. The snow was too deep to get the -cattle out, so I took a sled, and going to a wood-lot cut a big, heavy -pole, it took a big one, too, for an old well-sweep. I put it on the -sled, and tried to haul it back; but the long end dragging in the deep -snow made that impossible. So, instead of hauling it, I took hold of -the end and started pushing it home. It was hard work, but to make it -worse President Allen met me and remarked, ‘Well, Kellogg, I have heard -of putting the cart before the horse, but I never saw it done before;’ -then he burst into a hearty laugh, and that’s the only time I ever saw -him even smile in all the years I knew him.” - -Besides President Allen, who was a man of learning and piety, as well -as soberness, and whose single laugh, as chronicled by Mr. Kellogg, may -perhaps be extenuated on the ground that it was indulged in before the -term began, it was a notable group of men under whose influence and -instruction Mr. Kellogg came during his residence at Bowdoin. There was -Professor Alpheus S. Packard, whose elegant culture and kindly heart -and beautiful face relieved the tedium of the Greek class-room, and -impressed themselves upon the grateful memories of not less than sixty -classes of Bowdoin students. There was Professor Thomas C. Upham, the -quaint and shy philosopher, who had in himself so much of the mystic -and seer combined with the patient metaphysical analyst that it sent -him from time to time into bursts of religious song, and assured his -name an honored place among the hymn-writers as well as among the -philosophers. There was Professor Samuel P. Newman, who, by precept -and criticism, imparted as much as can be imparted of the art of -rhetoric, in which Mr. Kellogg was to become so much of a proficient. -There was Professor William Smyth, rugged, impetuous, and true, an -apostle of abolition, an enthusiastic champion of popular education -and, indeed, of every good cause, and, above all, a profound and famous -mathematician, about whom Mr. Kellogg relates the somewhat apocryphal -story of the “Mathematician in Shafts,” not, as may be seen, to suggest -ridicule, but in a sort of fond and amused recognition of his unique -and vigorous personality. And finally, not to make the catalogue too -long, there was Professor Parker Cleaveland, the distinguished scholar -and teacher of chemistry and mineralogy, and a man of idiosyncrasies as -striking as were his gifts. In a beautiful memorial sonnet Longfellow -said of him:-- - - “Among the many lives that I have known - None I remember more serene and sweet, - More rounded in itself, and more complete.” - -“From Seniors to Freshmen,” says Mr. Kellogg, “all believed in, loved, -and were proud of the reputation of the scholarly, kind-hearted, -democratic, and, at times, compassionate professor.” And at the -close of the chapter which is devoted to illustrations of Professor -Cleaveland’s eccentric ways and beneficent influence, Mr. Kellogg is -moved to this earnest and affectionate expression of his reverence: -“Blessings on thy memory, faithful one,--faithful even unto death,--to -whom was committed the gift to stir young hearts to noble enterprise -and manly effort; who knew how to train the youthful eye to look upon, -and the heart to pant after, the goal thou hadst reached! Those most -amused with thy peculiarities loved thee best. From hence removed to -the presence and enjoyment of Him whose wisdom, power, and goodness, -manifested in the material world, thou to us didst so worthily explain -and illustrate, we shall behold thy form and press thy hand no more; -but only with life shall we surrender the memory of him who united the -attributes of both teacher and friend.” - -It is impossible that under the personal influence of these teachers, -and of their instruction, young Kellogg, with his frank and susceptible -nature, should not have been stimulated to intellectual effort, and to -moral earnestness, and that he should not have retained in subsequent -life some impress from their vigorous and scholarly and noble -characters. How much he owed them in the direction and the development -of his powers we may not say. It is never possible to measure, or to -estimate exactly, the total influence of a teacher’s life and work -upon his pupils. It acts often in ways that do not disclose themselves -to our perception; it touches the young men at points and moments of -which we do not know the responsive or the repelling significance; it -often produces effects which are the very opposite of what we should -predict; it falls into the ground and dies, as it were, and years -afterward springs up and bears fruit in a form so changed that we do -not recognize the seed in the resulting harvest; it is often hidden in -the hearts of the young men, and works by way of impulse or restraint -so subtly that they themselves are not conscious of it; and so we can -never tell to what extent a young man’s character has been formed or -modified by the influence of his teachers. But there is certainly some -indication of Mr. Kellogg’s own estimate of what he owed to college -instruction and stimulus in the ardent and unwavering affection which -he always exhibited for his Alma Mater, and which was abundantly -reciprocated in the reverent honor accorded to him by the college, and -by all its students and alumni. At the one-hundredth anniversary of the -college, in 1894, there were more than a thousand graduates assembled -at the banquet in a mammoth tent on the campus. Mr. Kellogg had, with -some difficulty, been persuaded to be present. He was, of course, -called upon for a speech; and when he rose to respond, every graduate, -young and old, in the great company was instantly on his feet, cheering -and shouting a glad salute. It was a touching and memorable ovation, -and the flush of troubled happiness that flitted across his bronzed -and wrinkled face was something long to be remembered, as was also his -glowing tribute of affection for the college, which was his answer to -the welcome of his brethren. - -In Mr. Kellogg’s student days the chief literary interest and activity -of the undergraduates, and no small part of their more formal social -life, centred about two societies, the Peucinean and the Athenæan. -Between these two societies there was intense rivalry in securing -accessions from among the more desirable members of newly entering -classes, in public exhibitions and anniversary exercises, and in the -distribution of college and class honors. Each society possessed a -considerable library of carefully selected books, and each held regular -weekly meetings for literary exercises consisting of essays, poems, -declamations, and debates. Kellogg was an active and esteemed member -of the Peucinean society, and contributed not a little to the interest -of its meetings in the several features of their literary programmes. -Mr. Henry H. Boody, of the class of 1842, and subsequently professor of -rhetoric and oratory in the college from 1845 to 1854, recalls the fact -that at the meetings of the Peucinean society, “we used to consider -a poem by Kellogg as a very rare treat,” and then adds that perhaps -“our liking for the man influenced our judgment as to the merit of his -productions in that line.” However that may be, it is evident that his -gifts of tongue and pen were freely exercised during his undergraduate -days, and that the charm of them was felt and acknowledged by his -college associates. - -In Mr. Kellogg’s Junior year a literary magazine, the second venture of -the kind at Bowdoin, was projected by some of the students, and made -its first appearance, under the name of the _Bowdoin Portfolio_, in -April, 1839. Its advent was heralded, in a manner somewhat figurative -and characteristic of the time, by an editorial note, of which the -following are some of the first sentences:-- - -“A short time since, as we were sitting quietly in our room discussing -the common topics of the day, we were suddenly surprised and pleased -by the entrance of a comely youth, of an ideal nature, that is, made -up of the immaterial mind, but who had embodied himself in a visible -form. He was arrayed in a neat, simple garb, evidently preferring pure -simplicity to ostentatious splendor, and wishing to attract notice, -not so much by a showy dress and gorgeous outward appearance, as by -the spiritual within, made clear and comprehensible by the outward -representation. On his front he bore the name of ’Bowdoin Portfolio,’ -and in communing with him we found a most entertaining and agreeable -companion. He was just making his debut into the literary world, and it -was with modesty and timidity that he declared to us his intentions of -speedily making his bow, and paying court to the public.” - -There is no indication that Mr. Kellogg was connected with the -editorial board of the _Portfolio_, but there are contributions from -him in three of the seven numbers that were published, and all his -contributions are of verse. This fact recalls the testimony that has -been quoted as to the pleasure with which his poems were received at -the meetings of the Peucinean society. Altogether it seems as if, -during his college days, his tastes led him to the cultivation of -poetry, and as if the impression he made upon his college mates was -rather by his verse than by his prose. - -One of the poems in the _Portfolio_ is a clever translation of a Latin -epitaph upon a moth miller which “came bustling through the window -directly into the editorial taper, and fell lifeless upon the sheet of -paper.” A part of the epitaph in Kellogg’s verse is as follows:-- - - “Whose greatest crime was to intrude - Upon a Poet’s solitude; - Whose saddest fortune was to fly - In a Poet’s lamp, and cheated die. - Ah! punishment to rashness due, - How certain! and how direful too! - The silly Moth thus seeking light - Is overwhelmed in shades of night; - So Youth pursuing Pleasure’s ray - O’ertakes grim Death upon the way!” - -The Latin of the epitaph is of that obvious kind which an American -college boy is likely to write, and there is really more distinction in -Kellogg’s translation than in the original. - -The other poems contributed by Kellogg to the _Portfolio_ are entitled, -“The Phantoms of the Mind,” and “The Demon of the Sea.” They are both -vigorous in sentiment and correct in form, and the opening lines of the -latter remind us of the author’s early, and, indeed, lifelong passion -for the sea:-- - - “Ah, tell me not of your shady dells - Where the lilies gleam, and the fountain wells, - Where the reaper rests when his task is o’er, - And the lake-wave sobs on the verdant shore, - And the rustic maid, with a heart all free, - Hies to the well-known trysting-tree; - For I’m the God of the rolling sea, - And the charms of earth are nought to me. - O’er the thundering chime of the breaking surge, - On the lightning’s wing my pathway urge, - On thrones of foam right joyous ride, - ’Mid the sullen dash of the angry tide.” - -It is not altogether fancy that recognizes in such lines as these -hints of the impetuous and stirring rhetoric of Mr. Kellogg’s later -prose, especially on occasions when his deepest feelings were moved, -and he spoke of love and duty, of character and destiny, of life and -immortality, out of the fulness of his conviction, and with the ardor -and eloquence of his sensitive and poetic nature. - -So passed his college days, in the keen enjoyment of generous -comradeship, in the instinctive indulgence of his fondness for fun and -frolic, in the cheerful acceptance of the burden of defraying his own -expenses, in manly fidelity to the appointed studies of the course, -and in the voluntary and congenial exercise of the literary gifts with -which he was endowed, and through which he has made so many of us his -debtors. And through it all he preserved the unaffected simplicity and -purity of heart, the reverence for truth, and the consideration and -charity for his fellows, which were the winning characteristics of his -whole life. - - * * * * * - -Mr. Kellogg’s theological training in immediate preparation for the -ministry was received at Andover Theological Seminary from 1840 to -1843. The intellectual and social conditions which prevail at the -professional school are quite unlike those of the college. It does not -have the same atmosphere of venerated tradition and compelling custom, -nor is it the scene of a life so varied and buoyant. The students are -older, more sedate, and more intent upon the special studies of the -place. They have passed through the period of boyish effervescence and -frolic, of ardent and generous comradeship, of steadfast friendships -and changing schemes of life, of relative unconcern for what lies -beyond the horizon of the college world--and the period is not to be -repeated. They are committed to common pursuits and ambitions, and are -sobered by the duties and responsibilities of life to which they are -sensibly drawing near. - -In his college life Mr. Kellogg found the material for a series of -sparkling stories, evidently as congenial to himself as they have been -interesting to his readers; but of life in the seminary he has given -us no picture. This is not to the discredit of the honored school of -theology to which he went, nor does it imply that he did not enter -into its studies and its life with heartiness and joy, but it is a -natural result of the distinction which has been suggested between the -college and the professional school. The picturesque nook or landscape -attracts the pencil or the brush of the artist, but his choice does -not discredit the thousand scenes of field and pasture and hill and -woodland which he passes by as unsuited to his artistic purpose. - -It is enough to mention the names of Moses Stuart, Bela Edwards, -Leonard Woods, Ralph Emerson, and Edwards Park, to show that Mr. -Kellogg was as fortunate in his teachers at the seminary as he -had been at the college. They were men of profound learning, of -stimulating influence, of consecrated character, and of great and -deserved reputation. They could not fail to quicken and enrich both -his intellectual and his spiritual nature, and to send him forth fully -instructed, as well as profoundly eager, to preach with persuasiveness -and power, as he did preach for nearly half a century. - -It was while he was a student in the seminary that Mr. Kellogg wrote -the famous declamation, “Spartacus to the Gladiators,” as well as -some others, almost equally famous, of the same general character. -It was written for one of the prescribed rhetorical exercises of the -course, at which the writer or speaker was publicly criticised by -members of the student body, and also by the professor in charge. Mr. -Kellogg, always timid at the prospect of open and formal criticism of -his writing or speech, greatly dreaded the ordeal, and resolved to -write something which should so interest his hearers by its unusual -subject-matter as to divert their minds from the thought of criticism. -His scheme was completely successful. The students listened with -breathless attention, and were dumb when the speech was concluded. -To the inquiry of Professor Park if there were any criticisms to be -offered, not a voice was raised; and the professor himself remarked -that though there were some things, perhaps, that might be said in -criticism, yet it was so admirable a specimen of masterful rhetoric -that he should say nothing. It has been considered so much of a -masterpiece in its kind, that at Andover they still point out No. 20 -Bartlett Hall as the room in which it was written. - -[Illustration: HOUSE ON CUMBERLAND STREET, PORTLAND, MAINE, IN WHICH -ELIJAH KELLOGG LIVED WHEN A BOY.] - -There is an unmistakable dramatic quality in the conception and speech -of “Spartacus,” as there were hints of such a dramatic quality in -some of Mr. Kellogg’s sermons in later years, and it is interesting -to note that, in his Senior year at Andover, he wrote a “dialogue,” -or brief play, called “The Honest Deserter,” which was performed by -the Philomathean Society of Phillips Academy. The occasion of its -presentation was considered of so much interest and importance that an -elm tree was planted in the Phillips yard in commemoration of the event. - -When in his Senior year as a theological student Mr. Kellogg went to -Harpswell to preach for some weeks, his personality and his preaching, -his love of the sea and his kindly human qualities, so won the hearts -of the Harpswell people that they besought him to return to Harpswell -after his graduation, and become their pastor. To their urgent request -he yielded, being himself much attracted by the people and their home -by the sea. It was in 1844 that he was publicly installed over the -church, and the official tie of pastor to the Harpswell church was -severed only by his death. - - - - -EARLY HARPSWELL DAYS - -WILMOT BROOKINGS MITCHELL - - -Harpswell, Maine, is a seaboard, almost a sea-girt, town. It is -made up of a long, narrow neck of land and forty islands, some -containing hundreds of acres, others almost entirely covered by the -tide. Indenting the shore of this peninsula and the larger islands -are sheltered inlets of deep water well suited to the building -and harboring of ships. Hither came, during the first half of the -eighteenth century, from Boston, Scituate, York, and other settlements, -men and women of Puritan stock and Puritan ways of thinking; and here -grew up large families, hardy and God-fearing, some farmers, but most -of them fishermen, sailors, and ship-builders. - -Elijah Kellogg could not long attend Bowdoin College, only a few -miles distant, without being attracted to these sea-going people of -Harpswell; for Kellogg was born with webbed feet. When hardly out of -the cradle, family tradition has it, he went to sail in Back Cove, -Portland, with a sugar-box for a boat and his shirt for a sail. As a -youngster he would often steal to the Fore Street wharves to watch -the ships, and he was never so happy as when listening to the yarns -which the sailors spun. He says of himself, “At ten years of age I -began to climb the rigging, and at fifteen went to sea.” His years in -the “fo’c’sle,” with all their perilous and disagreeable tasks, only -intensified his love for the water. As a Freshman he took supreme -delight in sailing with a good comrade, on a Saturday afternoon, in his -little cat-rigged boat, the _Cadet_, among the islands of Casco Bay. - -One of these half-holiday expeditions affected, as it happened, his -whole after-life. The _Cadet_, belated by wind and tide, ran ashore -on Birch Island, and “Captain” Kellogg and crew, supperless and -weary, sought shelter at the house of Captain John Skolfield. Mr. -Kellogg never forgot how cosily the light from the house that evening -shone through the hop vines growing over and around the windows. The -hospitable islander gave the wayfarers a warm welcome and a plentiful -supper; for which hospitality, before the evening ended, Kellogg, full -of stories of college and the sea, made his host feel well repaid. -Thus began his acquaintance with the Birch Islanders,--the Skolfields, -Curtises, and Merrimans,--an acquaintance which was to ripen into -a life-long friendship. The men on this island, hardy, powerful, -and fearless, at once became heroes in the admiring eyes of this -venture-loving student. After this he spent many happy hours building -boats, gunning and fishing with Captain John, or spinning yarns and -reading aloud with “Uncle Joe” Curtis,--a man who read every book he -could get hold of and who remembered everything he read. - -From Birch Island to Harpswell Neck, where Eaton’s store and the -church were located, is but a short row; there Kellogg often went to -buy something for his boat, or to worship on the Sabbath. Before long -he had many friends and admirers upon the mainland; for these people -had but to see the sharp-eyed, brown, wiry “colleger,” and hear his -stories, or listen to his earnest and eloquent exhortations in the -prayer-meeting, in order to love him. It was with them, as well as -with him, love at first sight; and by the time he was a Sophomore they -had plighted troth. Learning that he was to study for the ministry, -they must have him for their preacher; and he, half jokingly perhaps, -told them if he lived to get through the seminary and they built a new -church, he would come to preach for them. - -After graduation at Bowdoin, Kellogg began the study of theology at -Andover. When his course at the seminary was near its close, Professor -Thomas C. Upham, who had been so stanch a friend of the Harpswell -church that Mr. Kellogg once said it owed its very existence to him, -came to Andover with a message from the Harpswell people that the -timber for the new church was on the spot, and they still wanted him -for a preacher. The bearer of the message evidently saw in the young -preacher the salvation of the Harpswell church; for he reënforced this -reminder of the promise Kellogg had made in his student days by the -emphatic prophecy that God would curse him as long as he lived if he -did not go. Influenced somewhat by these prophetic words, but probably -much more by his love for the place and the people and the opportunity -he saw of doing good, he turned away from a call to a much larger -church and went to Harpswell, where, as he said many years later, he -found that “obedience is sweet and not servitude.” - -Although Mr. Kellogg, in response to this informal invitation, began at -once to supply the pulpit in the old church, a formal call to settle as -pastor was not extended to him until the next year. The reason for this -becomes apparent upon an examination of the church records. - -The original Harpswell church and parish were at this time passing -through a transition period. Formed in 1751, the parish was at first -identical with the town. The preacher’s salary and other church -expenses were assessed by the town officers as taxes. But later, other -churches having been built and other denominations having sprung up, -many citizens objected to being taxed for the support of the minister, -and some absolutely refused to pay such taxes. A troublesome question -concerning the control and ownership of the first church building also -arose between the town and the parish. Accordingly the supporters of -the Congregational church organized a new society and erected a new -church building. - -This church was dedicated September 28, 1843. For this dedication the -following poem was written by Mr. Kellogg:-- - - “Here, ’mid the strife of wind and waves - Upon a wild and stormy sod, - Beside our fathers’ homes and graves, - We consecrate a house to God. - “Here, on many a pebbly shore, - Old Ocean flings his feathery foam, - And close beside the breaker’s roar - The seaman builds his island home. - “’Mid giant cliffs that proudly breast - And backward fling the winter’s spray, - ’Mid isles in greenest verdure dressed, - ’Tis meet that rugged men should pray. - “Its spire shall be the last to meet - The parting seaman’s lingering eye, - The first his homeward step to greet, - And point him to a home on high. - “Here shall the force of sacred truth - Defeat the Tempter’s wildest rage, - Subdue the fiery heart of youth - And cheer the drooping strength of age. - “And when the watch of life is o’er - May we, where runs no stubborn tide, - No billows break, nor tempests roar, - In Heaven’s high port at anchor ride.” - -The records show that on April 25, 1844, with Professor Upham as -moderator, it was “moved and voted that the church of the Centre -Congregational Society in Harpswell do hereby invite and call Mr. -Elijah Kellogg to settle with them as their pastor in the Gospel -ministry and [do agree] to pay [him] by subscription $300 a year for -four years from the first day of June, 1844.” This call to what proved -to be a long and fruitful pastorate Mr. Kellogg, on May 4, 1844, -accepted in these simple and earnest words: “Brethren and Beloved: I -have considered your call to settle with you as a minister of the New -Testament. It appears to me to be the will of God pointed out by his -providence that I comply with your invitation, which I accordingly do, -praying that it may be a connection full of blessed fruits both to -pastor and people.” - -[Illustration: ELIJAH KELLOGG’S CHURCH AT HARPSWELL, MAINE.] - -The new pastor was ordained on June 18, 1844. He entered with -enthusiasm into his work. Among these rugged farmers, fishermen, and -sailors, he sought in all ways to expound and exemplify the teachings -of Him who many years before taught the fishermen of Galilee. On the -Sabbath he preached sermons so interesting and eloquent that people -came in boat loads from the islands to hear his words; and he entered -familiarly and sympathetically into the home life of his parishioners. -“His little boat might be seen in all weathers flitting to and fro -between mainland and islands as he made the circuit of his watery -parish in visits of friendship or of consolation, to officiate at a -marriage or a funeral. He was heartily welcome in every home, for he -knew their domestic life, and seemed to be a part of it; and he talked -of the sea and of Him who made it in a way that brought him close -to the hearts of his people, and made religion seem a natural and -practical and important part of daily life. He rebuked wrong-doing, -recognized and applauded every good act or effort, composed differences -between neighbors, helped in manual toil, comforted the afflicted, gave -to the poor,--and all in such a simple, unconventional, and genuine -fashion, that his people felt that he was one of them, only better than -the rest.[1]” - - [1] From an address by Professor Henry L. Chapman, delivered at the - Maine State Congregational Conference, September, 1901. - -The pastor of the early forties was often formal, arbitrary, and -autocratic, seeking to drive rather than to lead his flock. Between -pastor and people there was too often a great gulf fixed. But this -humorous, unpretentious, sincere man did not hold himself as of finer -clay than his people. He liked to plant and reap with his parishioners. -To pull rockweed and pitch hay and chop wood, to swing the flail and -hold the plough, were not beneath his dignity. - -One Sunday during these first years of his pastorate, just after -reading the usual notices, he said: “Widow Jones’s grass, I see, needs -mowing. I shall be in her field to-morrow morning at half-past four -with scythe, rake, and pitch-fork. I shall be glad to see all of you -there who wish to come and help me.” The next morning found a good crew -of men and boys in the field ready for work. Among them was a man six -feet two in his stocking-feet and weighing some 250 pounds. Captain -Griggs we will call him. As they were working up the field near each -other, the captain said, “Parson, I am going to cut your corners this -morning.” The little wiry parson, who had served a good apprenticeship -upon his uncle’s farm in Gorham, whet his scythe and kept his counsel. -The big captain didn’t cut any of his corners that day. Indeed, the -story goes that before noon the man who thought that he could mow -around the parson, dropped under a tree, exhausted by the terrific pace -that Kellogg set. - -Before he had completed the first year of his ministry, Mr. Kellogg was -elected a member of the school committee, on which he served several -years. That he sought to do his duty on the school board faithfully -is attested by the resolution--heroic it will seem to some--which he -recorded on December 8, 1844. “Having never till this time been fully -convinced of the importance of mathematics in strengthening the mind -and preparing it to investigate truth, and never having been able to -conquer my dislike for them till led to them by the study of philosophy -and an impression of the interdependence of all philosophy and all -science, I now begin at the bottom and determine to push my researches -as far as possible and to set down whatever may be worthy of note. I -this day commenced Emerson’s Arithmetic in order to be prepared to -do my duty thoroughly as one of the superintending committee.” As -committeeman, he did more than make a perfunctory visit twice a term. -He kept his eyes open for the alert, promising, studious lad. Such a -boy he encouraged, advised concerning his studies, and often urged to -go to Master Swallow’s school in Brunswick and fit for college. These -boys he picked carefully, for he didn’t believe in “wasting nails by -driving them into rotten wood.” - -From the first of his ministry to the very end, Mr. Kellogg showed an -instinctive knowledge of boys, and originality in dealing with them. -Any just estimate of his work and character must rate high his tact in -handling and influencing boys. Wherever he preached, boys were quick to -see that he was their friend, a man after their own heart. They soon -found that this unconventional, simple, eloquent little man, who had a -way of throwing his arm over a boy’s shoulder and walking home from -the evening meeting with him, was more than an ordinary preacher. They -found that he could understand them. They could tell him their jokes -and their serious plans, and he could see through their eyes and hear -through their ears. They found that he, more perhaps than any other man -they had ever known, was all the time at heart a boy himself; that he -was interested in them not simply as a professional duty, but because -he couldn’t help it. He loved boys, was happy in their companionship, -and delighted to talk of his own boyhood and college days,--of the -time when the frogs by croaking “K’logg, K’logg,” called him away from -school, or when he in recitation informed his dignified professor that -Polycarp was one of the _many_ daughters of Mr. Carp. He would swim and -sail and farm and fish with the boys in his parish, and then, at an -unexpected moment, but in a manner not repellent, he would kneel down -in their boat or in the field by the side of a cock of hay or a shock -of corn and pray with them. - -Many men to-day who were born and bred in Harpswell like to tell of -the way he won and kept their friendship. Here, for example, was a -boy whom he was taking to Portland in his boat; the youngster felt -very proud, for his grandmother had intrusted to him her eggs to take -to market. But alas! in disembarking he dropped the basket, and the -eggs were smashed. The boy’s extremity, however, was the preacher’s -opportunity. By paying for those eggs from his own pocketbook, he saved -the young marketman no end of humiliation, and bound him to his soul -with a hoop of steel. - -If one may judge by his journal and correspondence, no work that Mr. -Kellogg did during his long life afforded him greater satisfaction or -yielded larger returns in affection and gratitude and right living than -his work with boys. When, for instance, he had been on Harpswell Neck -less than a year, he heard that a schooner had put into Potts’s Point, -some ten miles below his home, with a boy on board who had broken his -leg. He knew that this boy on a small schooner in a strange place would -need sadly the comforts of home. He hastened to him, brought him to -his boarding-place, put him in his own bed, and nursed him as he would -have nursed a son. When the boy was able to go to sea again, having no -money, he could repay his benefactor for all the trouble and expense he -had been, only with words of kindness and gratitude. Years afterwards, -however, when Mr. Kellogg was preaching in Boston, a well-dressed man -and woman came into the sailors’ church, and appeared much interested -in the sermon. At the close of the service they came forward and spoke -to the preacher. The boy had now become a man--the mate of a large -ship. The bread which the young minister had cast upon the waters -now returned to him after twenty years, in the words of affection -and encouragement with which this man and his wife expressed their -gratitude, also in the $50 which, as they bade him good-by, they left -in his hand. - -For some years Bowdoin College, recognizing Mr. Kellogg’s power in -getting at the heart of boys, had the custom of sending to him some -of the students whom it rusticated; and his strong, manly character -brought more than one boy to his better self. That his treatment of -these boys was not exactly that of Squeers, this instance will show. -One young fellow whom the college sent him was especially rebellious -at first. Through cheap story papers he had come cheek by jowl with -old Sleuth and his boon companions, and he sought to emulate them -by carrying a revolver and a dirk knife. Mr. Kellogg told him that -as he would not find any Indians or many wild beasts down there, he -had better surrender his weapons. This the young man did after much -reluctance. During the first day, Mr. Kellogg left him to himself, as -he was inclined to sulk. In the evening he began to talk to the boy -indifferently at first, afterwards kindly. All the time--lover-like--he -kept edging up nearer to him on the big sofa, and finally in his -genuine, whole-souled way, put his hand affectionately on the lad’s -shoulder. To such treatment the young fellow was not accustomed. It was -so different from his over-stern father’s that it threw him entirely -off his guard. He could not withstand the man’s kindly interest and -genuine manner. His rebellious spirit was broken. The boy dreaded his -father’s rebuke, and the next day, unknown to him, Mr. Kellogg wrote -to his mother, telling all about her son and urging that the father -write to him kindly and not sternly. A few days after this the young -fellow was surprised and delighted to receive from home a letter of -forgiveness and encouragement. - -On July 4, there was to be a celebration in Portland. The boy wished -but did not expect to go. “Well,” said Mr. Kellogg one day after they -had been speaking of the matter, “I am afraid you can’t go. I have -no authority to let you. But, then, I really want to attend that -celebration myself, and I can’t be expected to leave you at home -alone.” When the day of celebration came, the student and the preacher -could have been seen tramping the streets of Portland, both, no doubt, -having a right royal good time. - -A few years ago, the heart of the aged minister was uplifted by the -assurance that he had dealt aright with this high-spirited lad. -A successful business man, the vice-president of a large western -railroad, came many miles to look again into his kindly face and to -tell him that those weeks of companionship full of honest counsel -marked the turning-point in his life. - -For the first five years of his life in Harpswell, Mr. Kellogg boarded -at the home of one of his parishioners, Mr. Joseph Eaton. Here his -mother spent the summers with him, his father having died in 1843. In -1849 he bought a farm of thirty-five acres at North Harpswell, and at -once began to build a house that he might provide a suitable home for -his lame and aged mother. The location of this house is an attractive -one. It is on the western side of Harpswell Neck, a half-mile or so -from the main-travelled road. From it the land slopes gently an eighth -of a mile, perhaps, to the shore of Middle Bay. From the windows of the -house which he here built, one peeping through the oaks and spruces on -a summer’s day may see to the west, across the sparkling water of the -channel, the green sloping bank of Simpson’s Point, or to the south -Birch and Scrag islands and several of the other 363 which dot the -waters of Casco Bay. The house itself is a wooden, two-story, L-shaped -farm-house facing the west, bespeaking nothing of luxury, but large -enough to be airy in the summer, and in the winter a good place, as -Captain Rhines would say, in which to ride out the storm. - -Much of the material of which the house is made Mr. Kellogg brought -here from different parts of his parish; some strong timbers from -Ragged Island, three miles out at sea, fine sand for his mortar from -Sand Island, and the door-stone from Birch. Nearly all of the larger -timbers in his house this preacher cut and hauled himself. And when -they were on the spot, seventy-five of his friends and neighbors, -giving him a good surprise, as did those of Lion Ben in the Elm Island -stories, came and hewed the timbers and framed his house. Little -wonder is it that this house, with its attractive surroundings and its -pleasant associations, was ever to him the most beautiful place on -earth. - -He lived here with his mother and housekeeper until 1852, when his -mother died. This bereavement took a strong influence out of his -life; for the tactful, firm-willed mother had played a large part in -moulding the character of her impetuous, venturesome son. In 1854 he -married Miss Hannah Pearson Pomeroy, daughter of Rev. Thaddeus Pomeroy -of Syracuse, New York, previously pastor of the Congregational church -of Gorham, Maine. Three children were born to them: a son who died -in infancy; Frank Gilman, at present in business in Boston; and Mary -Catherine, the wife of Mr. Harry Batchelder of Melrose Highlands, -Massachusetts. - -The circumstances of Mr. Kellogg’s marriage are characteristic. While -he always maintained a due respect for women, he was preeminently a -man’s man or perhaps better a boy’s man. It is not surprising, then, -to be told that his wife was “recommended to him.” A friend of his -at Gorham, rallying him a bit on his bachelorhood, asked why in the -world he did not marry. “Oh,” said he, “I can find no one to have me.” -Whereupon his friend replied, “There is your old schoolmate, Hannah -Pomeroy of Syracuse, a minister’s daughter, well educated, a good -school-teacher, and smart as a whip; just the woman for a minister’s -wife.” What had been the preacher’s previous plans concerning matrimony -is not known, but before long he took a trip to Syracuse, and when -he returned, the bargain was practically made. Though apparently so -businesslike a transaction, this proved to be for more than forty -years a happy union. His friend spoke truly. Had Mr. Kellogg searched -many years, he could not have found a better helpmate than Hannah -Pomeroy. Attractive, sincere, energetic, practical, she was a prudent, -encouraging wife and a wise, loving mother. - -[Illustration: HANNAH PEARSON POMEROY KELLOGG. -Wife of Elijah Kellogg.] - -The folk-lore of Harpswell contains many stories of this minister’s -daring on sea and land and of his original ways in dealing with both -saints and sinners; so original, indeed, that one rough old admirer -on Ragged Island, whom Mr. Kellogg had influenced for good in a way -that no other minister had ever thought of doing, said that when -Parson Kellogg died, he was going to carve upon his tombstone three -letters--”D. F. M.” The last two were to stand for “Funny Minister.” - -This daring parson had upon his farm a bull that rendered himself -extremely obnoxious to visitors who found it convenient to reach -his house by crossing the pasture. The bull, therefore, must be -disciplined. The preacher first harnessed Mr. Taurus to the front -wheels of a heavy cart, preparatory to putting him over the road and -showing him who was master. But before the guiding ropes had been -adequately arranged, the bull on a mad rush took to the woods, leaving -in his trail fragments of cart-wheels and harness. The little minister, -however, was not thus to be outdone. The next day, at flood-tide, with -tempting fodder he allured the bull to the end of the wharf and in an -unguarded moment shoved him into the bay. An excellent swimmer, he -then quickly jumped astride the bull’s back. By grasping his horns and -intermittently thrusting his head under water, with a prowess which a -“broncho-buster” might well envy, he conquered his steed. Thus, as all -stories rightly end, they lived happily together ever afterwards. - -Of this pastor’s unconventional methods in accepting and dispensing -gifts of charity, the following are illustrative. One afternoon, just -before tea, he happened into the house of a master ship-builder in -his parish, a man of property and influence. The old gentleman was on -the best of terms with the young preacher, and after passing the time -of day, began to banter him on the condition of his boots, which were -muddy and somewhat the worse for wear. “Parson, what makes you wear -such disreputable-looking foot-gear?” he said. “Throw those boots away -and let me get you a new pair.” The parson waited till later before -he fired the return shot. After all were comfortably seated at the -tea-table and he had said grace, he asked to be excused for a moment -and went to the sitting room. There a good fire was blazing upon the -hearth, and near by were the master-builder’s best shoes. Quickly came -off the parson’s old boots, and into the fire they went; and as quickly -went on to stay the master-builder’s best calfskins. - -One winter day while on Orr’s Island, he got an inkling that a family -there was in distress. By skilful inquiry he learned that the father -had been drinking badly, and the mother and children needed food and -fuel. Something must be done at once to relieve them. Going to the -house of a well-to-do parishioner, he requested the use of his horse -and sled for an hour or two. When they were ready, he quickly drove up -to the man’s woodpile and loaded the sled generously, while the owner -stood by in wonderment. The only explanation given was: “That family -down there need fuel badly. You’ve got a plenty, and I’m going to haul -them down a good load.” And that was explanation enough, for Parson -Kellogg offered it. - -Although so familiar and informal in his social and pastoral relations, -as a preacher he never hesitated to point out to his people their -duty in language that was unmistakable. Soon after the new church was -built, for example, he told them that increased privilege means ever -increased responsibility. “God has given you,” he said, “a commodious -and elegant place of worship. Why? That you might sit down and admire -it and be proud of it? Do that, and He will wither you to the root. Do -it, and He will send leanness into your souls. My dear friends, we had -better, like our Puritan forefathers on the coast of Holland, kneel -down among the rocks and seaweed in the cold winter to pray to God with -the humble spirit with which they prayed than to worship Him here in -peace and comfort, surrounded with tasteful decorations, without that -humility. You have heard of congratulation and praise as much as you -ought to hear. I wish you to look at your increased responsibility. As -God has made you first in point of privilege, be not by abusing those -privileges the last to attain salvation.” - -In his pulpit, with plain-spoken words such as these, and with quaint -phrases, and apt illustrations drawn from the farm, the forest, and -the sea, this preacher quickened the conscience, and broadened the -sympathies, and strengthened the faith of the farmers, fishermen, and -sailors, who heard him gladly. As a preacher, “he seemed,” says one -who knew him well, “a prophet in the authority with which he spoke, an -evangelist in the tenderness with which he appealed to the conscience -and set forth the promises of the Gospel, a poet often in the simple -beauty and grace with which he portrayed the conditions of human life, -and discoursed of the deep things of God.” - - - - -THE SEAMAN’S FRIEND - -GEORGE KIMBALL - - -At its annual meeting, May 17, 1854, the Boston Seaman’s Friend -Society accepted the resignation of Rev. George W. Bourne, pastor of -the Mariners’ Church and chaplain of the Sailors’ Home. The board of -managers then began the search for “a suitable man” for the vacant -position, and their choice fell upon Rev. Elijah Kellogg of Harpswell, -Maine. - -Mr. Kellogg began his duties in September of that year, with his -accustomed earnestness, and under his ministry the attendance at the -church increased, and a new impulse was given to the society’s work. - -He first appeared before the society at its twenty-seventh anniversary, -held in Tremont Temple, May 30, 1855. A large audience was assembled. -President Alpheus Hardy introduced him in complimentary terms, and he -made an eloquent address. His “suitability” as the seaman’s friend and -pastor is shown in these extracts: “The greater portion of my life has -been spent among seamen, either at sea or on shore. The first personal -effort, to any extent, I made for the salvation of souls was while -teaching among a community of sailors. The first sermon I preached -was to sailors. The first couple I united in marriage were a sailor -and his bride. The first child I baptized was a sailor’s child. The -first burial service I performed was over the body of a seaman. The -society with which I have been connected during the last eleven years -is with scarcely an exception composed of sailors and their families. -There is not a house in the parish in which the roar of the surf may -not be heard, and in many of them the Atlantic flings its spray upon -the door-stone.... The men who interest seamen and do them good have -not any recipe for it; neither can they impart it to others. It is all -instinctive. They love the webbed feet, and the webbed feet love them.” - -Mr. Kellogg was at this time forty-one years old. His pleasing personal -appearance and his hearty, rugged, forceful utterance made a favorable -impression upon his hearers. - -The task he had undertaken was by no means an easy one. It involved -hard and constant work, often of a kind little, if at all, like that -of the average clergyman. On the Sabbath there were in the Mariners’ -Church three services for public worship, and the Sunday-school. In -addition to this work upon the Sabbath, Mr. Kellogg conducted a social -religious meeting in the reading room of the Sailors’ Home upon one -evening of each week, and in the winter lectured occasionally in the -church upon topics of vital interest. He visited sailors upon shipboard -and in hospital, offered the comforts of religion to the sick and -dying, and often communicated to loved ones the parting message they -would never otherwise have received. For this work the salary was -necessarily small, and the material equipment not of the best; but Mr. -Kellogg did not hesitate. He threw himself into the work with zeal and -enthusiasm. - -From the establishment of the Seaman’s Friend Society in 1827 to July -12, 1852, religious services were held at the Sailors’ Home, but upon -the latter date the building was burned. The church at the corner of -Summer and Sea streets, which had formerly been owned and used by -the Christian Baptists, was soon after purchased, and on December 30, -1852, was dedicated to the work for sailors. A church building, in -these days, like the modest bethel in Summer Street would be regarded -as quaint in appearance and ill-adapted to its uses. It was inferior, -in many ways, even to other churches of its day, but it was easily -accessible to those to whom it especially ministered (wharves to the -south were then much more fully utilized by shipping than they now -are), and was in the centre of a favorite residential district; for -Fort Hill and surrounding streets were at that time mainly occupied by -pretentious dwellings. - -The Sailors’ Home, when rebuilt, was a large brick structure upon the -eastern slope of Fort Hill, at 99 Purchase Street. Here, with Mr. John -O. Chaney as its superintendent, many of the brave carriers of the -commerce of the world were comfortably housed and cared for. The Home -had a large reading room and library, and besides providing good board -and home comforts, it did much from time to time for the relief of -shipwrecked and destitute sailors. Often hundreds of sailors were here. -The very year Mr. Kellogg began his work it sheltered 2458, and during -his chaplaincy of nearly eleven years 25,358 were beneath its roof. - -In urging the need and importance of such an institution as a haven of -rest, a “port in a storm,” Mr. Kellogg once said: “Suppose twenty-five -seamen from Calcutta, with beard and hair of 130 days’ growth, -hammocks, canvas bags, sheath knives, chests lashed up with tarred -rigging, redolent of bilge water, with a monkey or two, and three or -four parrots, should drive up to the Revere House in a North End wagon, -and say, ’We want to stop here; our money is as good as anybody’s,’ -would they stop there? Would their money be as good as anybody’s? I -trow not. Let them, repulsed from the Revere, go to the Marlboro,--a -temperance, pious house, prayers night and morning,--and tell the -proprietor if he does not take them in they must go to a place that -leads to a drunkard’s grave and the drunkard’s hell, would they be -taken in there, think you? This shows the need of a Sailors’ Home, does -it not?” - -When Mr. Kellogg had been at work awhile, Captain Andrew Bartlett of -Plymouth, a retired ship-master, was employed by the society as a -missionary helper. Always faithful and zealous, as “a lieutenant to Mr. -Kellogg,”--so he styled himself,--Captain Bartlett proved of valuable -assistance. With his aid libraries were placed upon shipboard to be -managed by Christian sailors, and the minor details of the work went -forward successfully. - -Another fruitful source of increased life and enthusiasm in the work -came early in Mr. Kellogg’s pastorate. It was a body of young men -drawn by the personal magnetism of the popular preacher, inspired by -his earnestness and devotion, and moved by their own desire to be of -service in the good cause. He issued no special call, made no urgent -appeal, for these helpers. One by one they came, impelled by the -promptings of the Holy Spirit. They rallied like a forlorn hope in a -desperate encounter, each feeling that his services were needed. They -were ready for any service their Divine Guide and their beloved leader -might require of them, should it carry them even to “moving accidents -by flood and field.” They had heard the “still, small voice,” and had -responded, “Here am I; send me.” - -Captain Bartlett early reported: “The young men of the church are Mr. -Kellogg’s body-guard. They are a sort of flying artillery. They visit -the receiving-ship, the Marine Hospital, and other places. They hold -meetings, and talk with sailors.” - -Mr. Kellogg in an annual address before the society said: “An army -of young men are putting their strength to the wheel of a difficult -and hitherto well-nigh discouraging work. It was feared by many, when -these efforts began, that they were the outgrowth of romance and the -love of novelty, and would be of transient duration; but they have -assumed the same enduring character as the other departments of labor. -At the hospital, on board the receiving-ship, at the Mariners’ Church -on Sabbath evenings, they have entered heart and hand into this work, -and, from their very youth, adapted to the impulsive nature of seamen, -they have been in the hands of God a most efficient instrumentality for -good.” - -This army of young men grew very rapidly during the revival of 1858, -and by the beginning of the Civil War was of creditable size. At the -Sunday evening prayer-meetings it made itself especially felt. On these -occasions the church was always crowded. Ministers of the Gospel, -merchants, young people, and captains of ships sat side by side with -men whom every wind had blown upon, from the equator to the pole, -all uniting in fervent prayer to the same great Father, all striving -to bring each other to a knowledge of the truth. Not an evangelical -denomination in the city was unrepresented, and it is impossible to -form even an approximate estimate of the amount of good accomplished, -for these meetings were exceptional both in number of attendants and in -interest shown. - -[Illustration: ELIJAH KELLOGG AT FORTY-THREE. 1856.] - -But war came, and it found the Mariners’ Church patriotic to the very -core. Mr. Kellogg had to report that sixty-eight of his“body-guard” -had enlisted to fight for the preservation of the Union, sixteen of -them teachers in the Sunday-school. In 1864, in his address before the -society, he said: “At the beginning of the war there were connected -with the Mariners’ Church a body of young men, landsmen, who were -deeply interested in the conversion of sailors and enjoyed their -confidence and affection. They, with a single exception, entered the -army. Poor and without patronage, they enlisted as privates. Five of -them have been promoted.” - -Those connected with the Mariners’ Church when the war opened will -never forget the stirring scenes in the church meetings or the eloquent -words of patriotism and faith with which the pastor bade his “boys” -Godspeed as they went forth into the great struggle. One Sunday -evening in April, 1861, he spoke feelingly of the impending crisis. -He was so prophetic, outlining so accurately what afterward proved -to be the extent and course of the secession movement, that many of -his hearers have since thought him to have been almost inspired. When -he had finished, he requested three of his “boys” who had enlisted, -one of whom had that very day been admitted to the church, to step to -the desk. Then, amid a scene such as is rarely witnessed in a sacred -edifice, he talked to them personally, while the large audience showed -great sympathy and the liveliest interest. When the enthusiasm had -reached its highest pitch, he drew from under his desk three revolvers -and passed them to the young men, bidding them go forth in the name -of God, in a cause which he declared to be as holy as any that ever -a people contended for. In 1865, referring feelingly to the services -of these young men in the field, he said: “They departed with the -prayers and good wishes of the congregation. One of them, but nineteen -years old, fell at Gettysburg; another,[2] having been twice severely -wounded, has returned with honor, and the third, having received three -wounds, and led his company at the storming of Fort Fisher, still -remains a captain in the service.” - - [2] Readers will be interested to know that Mr. Kimball, the author of - this chapter, is here referred to.--W. B. M. - -The work was often attended by interesting and sometimes humorous -incidents. During a meeting in the reading room of the Home one evening -an intoxicated sailor created a disturbance at the door. He wanted to -enter, and had to be held back by force. The meeting closed, and the -“flying artillery,” under the leadership of Mr. Kellogg, was about -starting for the nine o’clock prayer-meeting at the rooms of the Young -Men’s Christian Association in Tremont Temple. The inebriate took it -into his head to go too. He was reasoned with, but without effect. “You -fellows have got a good thing,” said he, “and I want some of it.” The -leader and his “body-guard” started, and sure enough, the disciple -of Bacchus followed. Mr. Kellogg protested, but in vain, and finally -ordered “the flying artillery” to take the double-quick. The man then -showed that he, too, could sprint a bit even if he did happen to be -“loaded.” He managed to keep the party in sight, and although he met -many obstacles and collided with a horse-car in crossing Washington -Street, he succeeded in landing a fairly good second. He was not -allowed to enter the prayer-meeting, however, as he was still inclined -to be noisy, but was “held” in an adjoining room. The young men got -him back to the Home after the meeting, and he again declared it his -purpose to have religion anyhow, in spite of opposition. Next morning -he appeared, demanded a pen, and with the air of a usurper of a -throne about to banish all who had in any way opposed him, placed his -name upon the temperance pledge. That evening in the prayer-meeting -he requested prayers. He gave his heart to Christ, became a devoted -worker, and a year afterward, returning from a voyage, was found to be -still in the faith. - -But sinners had to be brought to repentance ordinarily. They rarely -came unsought, like this poor wayfarer, and thus Mr. Kellogg and his -helpers always found plenty to do. It was an inspiring scene when the -leader and his “body-guard” set out for the prayer-meeting upon the -receiving-ship _Ohio_ or returned therefrom. In going, they usually met -at the Young Men’s Christian Association, proceeding thence via “Foot -and Walker’s line,” two by two, keeping step to the music of their own -voices. “The Old Mountain Tree,” “A Life on the Ocean Wave,” and many -other popular songs of the day, as well as hymns, were sung. Among -the favorite hymns was “Say, brothers, will you meet us?” It had that -stirring chorus, “Glory, glory, hallelujah.” This was sung a great -deal, and it finally became the foundation of the famous “John Brown -Song,” to the rhythm of which thousands marched in the great war for -the nation’s life. - -No small part of Mr. Kellogg’s success in this work came from his -intimate knowledge of the seaman’s nature. Sailors are in many ways -peculiar, and in order to be of service to them a worker must proceed -understandingly. They regard themselves as in a measure set apart from -their fellow-men. One of them once wrote:-- - - “I am alone--the wide, wide world - Holds not a heart that beats for me; - I’ve seen my brightest hopes grow dim, - As fades the twilight o’er the sea.” - -That Mr. Kellogg understood this loneliness and had a large sympathy -for the men “that go down to the sea in ships, that do business in -great waters,” these eloquent words of his well show: “In respect to -the great mass of seamen, they neither own land, build houses, nor rear -families. They neither give nor receive those sympathies and attentions -which create among men a mutual dependence and attachment. When they -are sick, no circle of neighbors and friends watch by their bedside -and minister to their necessities, but the walls of the hospital, if -on shore, receive them and conceal their sorrows from observation. No -kindred follow them to the grave and erect the memorial stone. They -are not, in the expressive language of Scripture, ’gathered unto their -fathers,’ but they are buried on the shores of foreign lands, or amid -the everlasting snows of the pole, or in the abyss of ocean, slumbering -in nameless sepulchres and mausoleums of the mighty deep. Like the -winds that bear and the waves that break around them, they are the -visitors of every clime, the residents of none.... The knowledge of the -community at large in respect to seamen is too often gleaned from the -exaggerated descriptions of novelists.... Every man has in his heart -home feeling. It is an old-fashioned thing. He drew it in with his -mother’s milk. He learned it at his father’s knees. Even sailors are -men. They did not spring from the froth of the sea, like Venus. They -had mothers and fathers that loved them and prayed for them. It is the -heart makes home. It is the heart makes friends in the world. The heart -makes heaven.” - -Sailors are ever among the bravest of the brave. Great as is the -appreciation of the American people of the bravery of the men who lined -up behind the guns of our warships in the great war which kept the -Union whole, it is not half great enough. - -Neither can we overestimate their loyalty in all great crises of the -nation’s history. It was President Lincoln who pointed out the fact -that in all the general defection of the first period of secession not -a single common seaman proved false to his flag. - -In a prayer-meeting at the Mariners’ Church while the war was in -progress a landsman lamented its effect upon the “Jackies.” A -man-of-war’s man arose and said: “What is war to me? What is war to my -shipmates? It brings no increase of peril--only another kind. We have -always faced danger and death and disease. What is it to me whether -danger comes from storms or from batteries? I can kneel down between -the guns and pray as well as in my room at the Sailors’ Home.” - -For patriotism and bravery wherever shown, Mr. Kellogg had the greatest -admiration. Besides the large number of landsmen connected with his -church who entered the service, over two hundred of the inmates of -the Sailors’ Home joined the army and more than six hundred the navy -during the war. With many of these, Mr. Kellogg kept in touch through -frequent correspondence, and looked after their personal needs. He -loved them all. He often sent necessities and delicacies to his“boys” -at the front. In one of the early battles,[3] one of the young men of -whom mention has been made as receiving arms at his hands in a Sunday -evening prayer-meeting was wounded. He at once visited the hospital -to which the young man had been taken, secured a furlough for him, -provided him liberally with necessities, brought him to Boston, and -sent him to his home in Maine for a visit to his father and mother. - - [3] Here, again, the reference is to Mr. Kimball.--W. B. M. - -The results of Mr. Kellogg’s great work for seamen were often not -apparent. His sailor parishioners were scattered throughout the -world. In speaking of this, he once said: “If a person on shore is -converted, it immediately becomes known to a church of perhaps six -hundred members; if he leads a devoted Christian life, his influence is -felt by thousands. But these Harlan Pages of the ocean, who pray with -messmates, speak good words to shipmates in the middle watch, maintain -a Christian life on board frigates which have been compared to floating -hells enlivened once in a while by a drowning--who writes their -memoirs? What stone records their virtues? What periodical chronicles -their death? They slip quietly to heaven unnoticed and unknown. Their -bier is a plank across the lee gunwale, their mausoleum the ocean, -their epitaph is written in water. And when the report circulates in -the forecastles of different vessels, some old sailor, dashing a tear -from his eye with his shirt-sleeve, exclaims to his shipmates, ‘Well, -he has gone to heaven. He saved my soul, and he would have saved the -whole ship’s company if they had listened to him.’” - -The visible results of Mr. Kellogg’s work, however, were from the -first encouraging. During the winter of 1858, the great revival was -fully felt. Many were brought to Christ. The next year the interest -continued, not only at the church and the Sailors’ Home, but at sea. -At the Home 276 signed the temperance pledge and 95 were converted. -Good work was also done at the hospital in Chelsea. That winter word -was received that four members of the Mariners’ Church were holding -prayer-meetings on board the _Hartford_, flagship of the squadron then -in Chinese waters, and that a lieutenant, the fleet surgeon, a ship’s -doctor, a gunner, two midshipmen, six petty officers, and twenty-five -seamen had been converted. Prayer-meetings were then being held upon -fifteen other men-of-war. The next year also showed good results. In -1861, Mr. Kellogg was able to report seventy-four conversions at the -Sailors’ Home, fifty-five on the receiving-ship _Ohio_, twenty-eight -at the hospital in Chelsea, thirty-seven at sea, and a number at the -church. Statistics show the conversion of 725 during his ministry of -eleven years. - -The high esteem in which Mr. Kellogg was held by the other clergymen of -Boston was well expressed in 1862 by Dr. Todd of the Central Church. -Speaking at an annual meeting of the society from which Mr. Kellogg was -forced to be absent by a serious attack of lung fever, Dr. Todd said:-- -“I regret exceedingly the absence to-day of one who is the life and -soul of this work in this city, whose treasured experience, given in -his racy way, is wont to enliven this anniversary. I regret exceedingly -the cause of his detention. But I may take advantage of his absence to -bear some slight testimony to the preciousness of the influence which -he is exerting. Apart from his successes among seamen, for which he -is eminently qualified by the characteristics of his nature, as well -as the tastes of his heart, he is diffusing an untold influence in -other spheres. I presume that there is not an evangelical clergyman in -this city who cannot gratefully trace among his people, and especially -among the young men of his congregation, the quickening and healthful -influence of the pastor of the Mariners’ Church.” - -A year later the decline in the merchant marine began to be seriously -felt. It was said to be due to the sale of a large number of vessels -to the English and the change in destination of others, many going to -England and the Continent which formerly would have come to Boston and -New York. This diversion of commerce was believed to be due to the -prevailing high rates of exchange. Then, of course, a great many of -the men who had manned our merchant vessels had been absorbed by the -army and navy. Just before this decline began, a competent authority -had estimated that throughout the world at least one hundred and forty -thousand merchant vessels of all kinds were afloat, manned by a million -men, and that one-third of these were under the flag of the United -States. - -These changes in our commerce and this falling off in American seamen -greatly lessened the number of inmates at the Sailors’ Home, and -seriously weakened the Mariners’ Church. Then, too, a new element had -occupied Fort Hill and the adjacent streets. The growth of business -was crowding people southward and westward, comfortable homes giving -way to commercial establishments. These things, together with an -intention which Mr. Kellogg had long cherished of entering upon a -literary career, caused him to think seriously of resigning his -position. During the summer of 1865 he did so, and was soon after -succeeded by the Rev. J. M. H. Dow. - -The foregoing is but a glimpse of Elijah Kellogg’s work in Boston. In -its entirety, that work is known only to God and the Recording Angel. -Its influence was widely felt upon sea and land. Thousands of sailors -upon lonely waters were made happier by it, and up among the hills, -under the trees, at many a farm-house window, sad faces that looked out -and watched for their dear ones’ coming brightened at the remembrance -that they had been led to Christ through the efforts of this seaman’s -friend. - -Mr. Kellogg was a saintly, lovable man, and but for his modesty, -shunning, as he often did, the leading churches of the day, because of -what he termed their “starch and formality,” he would have been named -and known among the great preachers of his time. - - - - -AS SEEN THROUGH A BOY’S EYES - -WILLIAM OLIVER CLOUGH - - -When and under what circumstances I made the acquaintance of the Rev. -Elijah Kellogg I do not now recall. The place, however, was Boston, -and I persuade myself that the time was the winter of 1856-1857, -during what was mentioned in the newspapers of that day as the “Finney -revival.” I was then an errand boy in a jewelry store, a member of the -Park Street Church Sunday-school and congregation, and spent many of -my evenings out--for I slept in the store--at the rooms of the Young -Men’s Christian Association, then in Tremont Temple. It was probably at -the last-mentioned place that Mr. Kellogg came into my life, and now, -looking back over the years that have passed, I acknowledge that I have -cause for gratitude that I did not resist the love and friendship that -he generously bestowed upon me. - -Those of us, his friends and admirers, who recall the dignified manners -and solemn utterances of the good old clergyman of our grandfathers’ -days--on whose approach to the old homestead we fled like a brood of -frightened chickens--do not find in him a counterpart. He was like yet -unlike them, and it was the unlikeness that attracted young people to -him and compelled them whether they would or no to follow where he led. -It was that he had been a boy--the old school clergyman never gave -evidence of such weakness--and that it seemed no condescension on his -part to be a boy again with boys, when by so being he could keep them -out of mischief and as he was wont to say “headed up the stream.” More -than this he knew how to “get at boys.” He had a purpose in it all. -Many boys did not in my boyhood days--and I assume that they are the -same in all generations--take kindly to being told that unless they -turned over a new leaf and joined the church they would surely go to -the devil. Mr. Kellogg knew this and was ever on the watch to discover -their plans and ambitions, and, apart from sermons,--for he could get -them in in the proper place,--encourage them to strive for success, -while incidentally warning them of the pitfalls in their path. In a -word, he had an intuitive knowledge of the character of the person upon -whom he would impress the better way of life, and knew just how much -religious talk he would stand and still come to him with his burdens -and for advice. His attitude always seemed to be that religion--as men -profess it--was in a large degree dependent upon education in honesty -and sincerity of purpose in the things that are nearest at hand, in the -affairs of everyday life, that if the twig were but rightly bent, thus -the tree would incline. He was indeed a reverend schoolmaster. - -Hardly a week passed between the date I have tried to fix and the -time I left Boston in 1870, when, if Mr. Kellogg was in the city, I -did not meet him somewhere in his wanderings. I do not recall that I -ever attended services at the Mariners’ Church on Summer Street, over -which he was for many years pastor, on a Sunday morning or afternoon. -Sunday evening was the time. It was then that the larger half of the -Park Street Church boys and girls ran away, as the annoyed deacons put -it, and went to Mr. Kellogg’s meeting. No matter what the weather -happened to be or what the attractions were at home, the young people -into whose lives Mr. Kellogg had forged his way went where he was to -be found. They had done their duty by their own church, and they must -do their duty by Father Kellogg; and so it happened that year after -year the Seaman’s Bethel was crowded to overflowing on Sunday night, -the middle of the house being reserved for Jack, and the wall pews for -the boys and girls. Incidentally, and always in the right place, the -preacher gave us the advice that was withheld in social and friendly -intercourse. In an up-to-date way of expressing it, he “got it all in.” - -Father Kellogg, having followed the sea in his youth, had a good many -odd ways of saying things that were pleasing to us. Here are some that -I now recall:-- - -The writer said to him one day: “The deacons at Park Street are greatly -offended because you take us away from them on Sunday night, and have -expostulated with us.” “That reminds me of an old couple in our state” -(“our” is accounted for by the fact that the writer is a native of -Gray), he replied. “The wife was a strapping woman of more than two -hundred pounds and the husband was a little fellow of not much over -one hundred pounds. She abused him past the endurance of a block. Her -tongue was forever going. She gave him no rest, no peace. Some one said -to him, ’Why don’t you turn about and give her as good as she sends?’ -and he replied, ’Oh, but it amuses her and it doesn’t hurt me any!’ And -that is how it is with the deacons and me. The boys and girls will come -to the Bethel just the same.” He was right about it. - -Father Kellogg was standing in his accustomed place one night in front -of the pulpit, watching the ushers and showing anxiety through fear -that sittings would not be found for all comers, when, after looking -about, he pointed to one of the pews, and this is what he said:-- “Six -persons may be comfortably seated in those wall pews. There are only -five in that pew. Why won’t you take another reef in your mainsails, -ladies, and accommodate one more?” The ladies blushed and reefed. - -One night, when temperance was the theme, he paused, and directing his -conversation to some boys who were whispering, remarked: “I sometimes -wonder how it will be with young men who cannot behave in Boston, where -there are so many policemen to watch them, when they get into that far -country where there are no policemen. You’d better cast anchor, boys.” - -This anecdote is on the writer. My companion was one of the young -ladies of Park Street, and I was feeling just a bit proud of myself. -We were on hand in time, and had good seats against the wall. Distress -came upon me by reason of new and tight-fitting shoes. I had slipped -them off and put them under the seat, and was as peaceful and contented -as a bug in a rug. Presently the crowd came, and there was a demand for -seats. Spying other boys and me, this is how he fixed us: “Here, John, -Thomas, Ezra, Henry, and William, come this way and sit on the pulpit -steps.” All the other boys started. I kept my seat. I was in a fix. -Then he spoke a second time. “Come, come, no hanging back!” Taking the -shoes in my hand, I went as directed. The boys and girls laughed, and -he comforted me by saying: “I sat on the pulpit steps many a time when -I was a boy. It didn’t hurt me, and it won’t hurt you.” - -One night just before the benediction he said very earnestly: “I wish -the congregation would exhibit less haste to be dismissed. When the -last verse of the hymn is being sung, you throw your books into the -rack with a nervous thud that sounds like the ’ram-cartridge’ of a -regiment of raw militia. Kindly hold the books in your hands until -after the benediction.” - -On one occasion when he was talking about politeness as apart from -selfishness, this is how he got back at some of us, “Now I suppose if -you were travelling in a crowded horse-car, and a tired mother with a -baby in her arms, or a feeble old man with bundles in his hands, got -aboard, you would give up your seat even if you had paid for it--but I -happen to know that there are some of your elders who won’t do it.” I -never knew whom he fired that shot at. - -A transient man (speaking in meeting one night) bemoaned the fact that -some of the tunes to which hymns were sung were theatre refrains, and -unholy. “What!” exclaimed Father Kellogg, “you wouldn’t give all the -good music to the devil, would you?” The stranger sat down. - -One cold, blustery day Father Kellogg came to the store on Milk Street -where I was employed, with a tale of sorrow. He had discovered a sick -family. There was no food or fuel in the house, and he had no money -in his purse. He must raise $3 immediately. Every one contributed on -the instant, and he obtained nearly $4. There was a tear in his eye -when he went out, and probably having in mind that some of us were -theatre-goers or billiard-players, or something else--he turned to me, -and remarked aside, “Old Satan will be about $4 short to-night!” - -It should not be understood from the foregoing that my recollection of -Father Kellogg and my admiration for him are based on and began and -ended with a few little anecdotes incidental to evening meetings at the -church over which he was the honored pastor. I knew him in the broad -field, the world. He frequently spent an hour of the evening with me -at the store which was my only home, and where half the evenings in -the week I was alone as watchman after closing hours; here he often -related his experiences as a sailor--much of which was afterward woven -into his stories--and corrected the compositions I had written as a -student at the Mercantile Library Association then located on Summer -Street. More than this, he knew most of the boys and young men of -the association, and dropped in occasionally to hear them speak his -declamations and to encourage them in their studies. Later he was wont -to call at my boarding-place, as he did at boarding-places of other -homeless young men in that great city, to look after me and make me -feel that some one cared for me. In those years I went occasionally -with him and others to his week-day meetings at the Marine Hospital in -Chelsea to“help out in the singing,”--as he was pleased to put it,--and -to more other places than it would be interesting to mention here. On -most of these occasions he “stood treat” on soda or ice-cream somewhere -on the tramp, and, as I now discover, was always endeavoring to keep us -interested and out of reach of temptation. In after years and following -my departure from Boston, I used to find him at the Athenæum on Beacon -Street where--after giving up his church duties--he spent most of his -time when writing his books. These meetings were the joy and pride of -my life, and from them I always obtained new courage to persevere in -my profession. And here let me say that of all the boys of 1857-1870 I -know of but one who has made a misfit of life; and over his misfortunes -I throw, as I know Father Kellogg would were he still among us, the -broadest mantle of charity. - -Of Father Kellogg as an earnest and inspired preacher, a consecrated -man with a message to men, and of his greatest sermons, others may -speak. He was a modest and unassuming man who did not recognize in -himself his full power to move and convince men. Physical fear stood -in the way. He often expressed himself as greatly embarrassed when -officiating over large and fashionable congregations, and he said to -me, following his magnificent discourse in a series of meetings at -Tremont Temple, that when he approached the desk, his knees shook so -that he feared he should fall in his tracks. However this may have -been, he got control of himself before he had spoken twenty-five -words. All of embarrassment fled before the earnestness of his words -and purpose. It was--and I speak with the knowledge that many others -consider his sermon on the “Prodigal Son” his masterpiece--one of the -greatest efforts of his life. He realized that he was in contrast with -Dr. Stone, Dr. Manning, Dr. Kirk, Dr. Neal, and others, and that he -must give the best he had. The sermon made a deep impression upon all -his hearers. - -It was a comparative parallel of a brook and the career of man in weird -and forceful language, in imagery that was entrancing, in striking -passages, and with the lesson every moment in the foreground,--man and -brook at their sources, the place of their birth. - -_Morning._ He dwelt upon its beauty at sunrise, and the secluded depths -of the forest, and sought the birthplace of the brook. Then with the -child and the tiny stream he lingered and dwelt in graceful, dreamy -thought, in which he compared their purity, pondered upon the dangers -and pitfalls beyond, half undecided whether to venture farther or cease -to be. Having determined that it would be cowardly to resist destiny, -he followed the murmuring stream, listened to its complaints and made -note of its troubles. It was the career of man. As it flowed on, and he -wandered beside it, he listened to the song of birds, the murmuring -wind, and found himself in harmony with things divine. Anon, the scene -changed, the harmony was broken, the temptation to recklessness was -observed on every hand. The little brook had increased in strength -and commenced its complaining. It was being bruised against boulders, -rushed over logs and through chasms, over ledges, alongside of marshes -and across the quicksands of meadows, under water-wheels and bridges, -thrown mercilessly over precipices and dashed against every substance -in its path. - -_Noonday._ He mused with it, gathered admirers about it and discovered -that it entered into partnership with other streams as men and women -enter into the partnerships of life. He listened to its whispered -songs by day and sought its harmonies by night, he sympathized with -its fault-finding because of the impurities which flowed into it from -cities and villages, admired it when it became a broad expanse, and -enforced the lesson of man’s journey through life. - -_Evening._ Standing on the shore of the ocean, the tide receding, he -gazed far out toward the horizon, and in descriptive beauty I cannot -reproduce, saw the river meet and mingle with the sea, losing its -identity; saw the streets of shining gold, the great white throne and -the crown for those who are faithful unto death. - -The outline of one other of Father Kellogg’s great sermons still -lingers in my mind and attracts my thought. Paragraphs from it are -discoverable in the stories he wrote late in life. It was prepared for -the purpose of presenting the cause of the Seaman’s Friend Society -before a great convention in the Boston Music Hall. He was to speak -to a cultured audience of men and women from all parts of the state, -and in the presence of some of the best scholars and thinkers in his -own profession. He felt that he would be criticised in comparison with -other speakers, and was therefore determined to do himself and his -alma mater credit, and withal present his cause, so as to reach the -hearts and pocketbooks of his hearers. I did not hear the sermon at its -original delivery, but later he used it for the same purpose in the -churches. I heard it at Park Street, and was so attracted and impressed -by its beauty of language and eloquence when spoken by him that I went -to the Mount Vernon Church when he delivered it there. This gives the -impression it left upon my mind. - -Through the career of one sailor, learn of many. He pictured the -child in the cradle, the love and hope of a doting mother; followed -him to school, saw him develop in mind and muscle; sailed cat-boats, -set lobster-traps, and dug clams with him. He talked and dreamed with -him about other lands and climes beyond the boundary of their vision, -and entered into his hopes and ambition to become the master of a -ship. Passing briefly over his coasting voyages, he portrayed him in -port surrounded by sharks and bad women, and in the whirl, where if -he listens and yields to the tempter, he becomes lost to himself and -a sorrow to the mother who bore him. He spoke of his needs, of the -associations that should environ him, the necessity for a snug harbor -home in every port, and then, when an able seaman, he accompanied him -on a voyage to a foreign land. - -Then he presented, in vivid colors, beautiful, weird, and awful -pictures of the sea such as no man who has not witnessed them may -discover in the storehouse of his knowledge. The vessel drifts to-day -in a calm; there is little to do on shipboard, and so, half homesick, -the sailor looks upon the glassy deep as in a mirror, and sees faces -and forms of those he loves. Meantime, there are omens that indicate -a coming storm, and anxiety is depicted on every face. Night and the -storm! Then the awful picture of the raging deep; the vessel climbing -mountain waves and anon pitching into the trough of the sea; the -dark and ominous clouds, the angry winds, the mingled prayers and -supplications of the crew; the promises of a better life if spared to -reach land, the wreck, the rescue,--all in vividness, in rapid and -burning oratory that held a landsman as in a vice, moved him to tears, -and blotted from his mind all else save the speaker and his theme. Into -port, far from home and kindred, and the old story of forgetfulness of -promises when in the presence of temptations, and, in conclusion, a -masterly plea for pecuniary aid from those who had it in their hearts -to better the sailor’s environments. - -During the war of the rebellion, Father Kellogg’s patriotism and zeal -for the cause of his country was of the most pronounced type. Whenever -a regiment from Maine was due to march through the streets of Boston, -whether outward or homeward bound, his affection for the old home and -the boys of his state, excited him beyond self-control. He met the -command, if informed of its coming, at the railroad station, crossed -the city with it, remained close to the ranks and at every halt talked -with and cheered the boys. He made speeches to several regiments, when -reviewed on the Common, and on one occasion--I was present to greet a -cousin in the ranks--he broke down completely, and wept like a child. -It was pretty safe to say after the departure of a regiment from Maine -that Mr. Kellogg had not a “penny to his name.” He made speeches and -offered prayers at the unfurling of the flag, and spoke parting words -of affection and advice to seamen of his congregation and young men of -his Sunday evening meetings, many of whom “died with their wounds in -front.” - -The last of my several visits with Father Kellogg at his home at North -Harpswell was on August 5, 1899. On my journey thither, I talked freely -with the driver of the hired carriage--G. W. Holden, a brother of -the mystic tie--and said to him: “I should think the people of such -an up-to-date place as this would demand a younger preacher, more of -a society man than Mr. Kellogg.” He became enthusiastic at once and -replied: “Why, bless you, brother, the people of this place are all of -one mind in this matter. Like myself they had rather hear Mr. Kellogg -say ’amen,’ than the finest sermon any younger minister could possibly -preach. Why, people come from far and near to hear him, and every now -and then he has a request from some of them to deliver his discourse -on the ’Prodigal Son.’ It is a most remarkable sermon. I could hear it -twice a year, and hunger for a third.” - -But here we were at the end of our pilgrimage, at the very door of -his residence. It was nine miles from the boat-landing, half a mile -from the main highway through a strip of woods, and in a romantic and -secluded spot; an old-fashioned, unpainted farm-house of the fathers, -with large, high-studded rooms, and furnishings after the fashion of -the city. Everything bespoke comfort. - -Mr. Kellogg met me at the door with warm greeting, and when he made -out my identity through the mists of years, embraced me with the -enthusiasm of a child, put his arms about my neck and kissed me upon -the cheek. It was the same warmth and affection with which he greeted -the old Park Street Church crowd of young people in good old times. -“Come in! come in!” and then our tongues were loosed and it was a race -for life, for my visit was necessarily to be brief, to see who could do -the most talking. I think--mind you, reader, I am not positive about -it--that he did the most of it; at any rate he conjured with names of -old-time companions and friends whom I had forgotten, but whose faces -and forms were instantly upon the screen before me, and spoke with -tenderest affection of boys and girls, old men and matrons, whom we -had known and loved, and who have long since paid the debt of nature. -Oh, that the living of the good old times could have joined me on that -pilgrimage! - -He told me it was his purpose to proclaim“glad tidings” to men while -life lasted; that he had engaged to preach the next year; that he -expected to officiate on Sunday at Bowdoin College, and that his -health was such--deafness being his only apparent infirmity--he had -reasonable hope of becoming a centenarian. He recalled incidents -innumerable with which I am familiar, and related with manifest -pleasure that the deacons of Park Street undertook to put a stop to -the “running away” of their young people on Sunday nights, and, with -merriest twinkle of the eye, said, “their lectures fell on stony -ground. Some of the young people replied that they were born in the -Bethel, others that they were looking for a chance to sing, and there -were a few--and I fear you were one of the number--who always turned up -where the girls were. Anyhow, I had the crowd, and I loved every one in -it as though he were my own.” - -Then, in softened accent, as though he feared he had wronged those -deacons in thought and spirit, he said practically this: “Ah, but those -same deacons were good and true men. They were sympathetic, they were -liberal to a fault, and I never went to one of them for aid in my work -to return empty-handed. Then there was my old friend, Alpheus Hardy, of -the Mount Vernon Church. I verily believe he would have turned all he -had in the world over to me had I solicited it.” - -The conversation ran on and on in changing moods. I feared that -Brother Holden and our lady travelling companion would begin to think -themselves in for a half-day of steady waiting, and so I began to break -away. This was the hard part of it all. He clung to me and put his arms -about me, urged me to dismiss the driver and sleep under his roof, and -finally exacted a promise that I would come again next year, if in that -vicinity, and tarry longer. Our adieus were then spoken, and he stood -upon the porch and waved his hand in parting. - -All that I have here written is, as I view it, a eulogy on the -character and career of Father Kellogg, and yet I may be pardoned, -considering my long acquaintance, tender attachment and admiration for -the man, if, as attorneys put it, I sum up:-- - -He was one of nature’s noblemen; he was incapable of deceit; he lived -a life above reproach. His one great purpose was to make himself -useful to the human family. To this end he sought out boys who were -liable to go astray, and it may be said in all seriousness, and with -impressive emphasis, that he succeeded in the mission to which he -was consecrated. The seed he sowed ripened in the lives of those in -whom it was planted, and, granting that each in turn confers the same -blessing upon his children, Father Kellogg’s influence must continue on -and on to future generations, making the world wiser and better because -he has lived in it. His gentle chidings, his forgiveness of seeming -neglect, his patience when troubles were upon him, his sympathy for -those who were in sickness, sorrow, need, or any other adversity, his -hopefulness when in financial stress, his devotion to his invalid wife, -his anxiety for his children, his unselfishness, his never failing -cheerfulness and steadfast faith in God, his submission by which he -ever discovered the silver lining in the dark cloud, his determination -to preach the Gospel to the end of his days,--all, all, have lodgment -in my heart; and so, when I think of him, it is not as of one dead, -but one who lives, lives in the affections of kindred and friends, in -beneficent influence still abroad in the world, in deeds: not dead, not -dead:-- - - “There is no death, - The stars go down to rise upon a brighter shore.” - -[Illustration: ELIJAH KELLOGG’S HOME AT HARPSWELL, MAINE.] - - - - -Kellogg the Author - -WILMOT BROOKINGS MITCHELL - -“If the gods would give me the desire of my heart,” exclaims Thackeray -in _The Roundabout Papers_, “I should write a story which boys would -relish for the next few dozen of centuries.” This is a glorious -immortality which Thackeray desires for his boys’ story. Generously -have the gods dealt with that author whose writings for boys have been -relished even a quarter of a century. - -Of the stories and declamations of Elijah Kellogg the past at least is -secure. What boy reader did not relish “Good Old Times” and “Lion Ben”? -What schoolboy has not“met upon the arena every shape of man or beast -that the broad empire of Rome could furnish, and yet never has lowered -his arm”? The schoolboy of the future will be of different stuff from -the schoolboy of the past if, when declaiming to his mates on a Friday -afternoon, he does not begin in subdued tones and stand, like Regulus, -“calm, cold, and immovable as the marble walls around him,” and end -in guttural tones and in a fine frenzy with “the curse of Jove is on -thee--a clinging, wasting curse.” “Spartacus to the Gladiators,” the -first of Mr. Kellogg’s eleven declamations, was written, as has already -been said,[4] in 1842, for one of the rhetorical exercises at Andover -Seminary. At this exercise there was present a Phillips Academy boy, -John Marshall Marsters. Some years afterward, when Marsters was to take -part in the Boylston Prize Speaking at Harvard College, he secured -from Mr. Kellogg a copy of “Spartacus.” In this, as in many similar -competitions, it proved a prize-winner; and it so won the admiration -of Mr. Epes Sargent, one of the judges, that he first published it, -in 1846, in his “School Reader.” Since then no school or college -speaker has been deemed complete unless it included“Spartacus to the -Gladiators.” - - [4] See page 47. - -“Regulus to the Carthaginians” Mr. Kellogg wrote at Harpswell for his -friend, Stephen Abbott Holt, then a student at Bowdoin College, who -first declaimed it in the Junior Prize Speaking, August 25, 1845; and -it was first published in 1857 in Town and Holbrook’s Reader. Most of -his other declamations were written for _Our Young Folks_, and similar -magazines. - -As school and college declamations, these have seldom, if ever, been -surpassed. Vivid in description, stirring in sentiment, alive with -action, dramatically portraying concrete deeds of heroism, they are -especially attractive to school and college boys. Nearly all of these, -it will be noticed, deal with ancient characters and events. From the -time Mr. Kellogg began to prepare for college in his father’s study, -he was exceedingly fond of the ancient classics. He had in his library -at the time of his death 235 volumes of the classics of Greece and -Rome. Well versed in Greek and Roman history and mythology, he could -fittingly extol the patriotism of Leonidas and Decius; bewail the woes -of the Roman debtor; incite the gladiators to revolt; and appeal to the -Roman legions, or curse the Carthaginians through the mouth of Icilius -or Regulus. - -With the exception of a few bits of verse written while he was -an undergraduate and printed in the college paper, _The Bowdoin -Portfolio_, “Spartacus” was the first of Mr. Kellogg’s writings to be -published. During the twenty-three years between 1843, when he became -pastor of the church at Harpswell, Maine, and 1866, when he resigned -as pastor of the Mariners’ Church in Boston, he wrote very little -that was printed: “Regulus,” an ode for the celebration of Bowdoin’s -semi-centennial in 1852, and a sermon, “The Strength and Beauty of the -Sanctuary,” preached at the dedication of the Congregation Chapel, -St. Lawrence Street, Portland, Maine, in 1858. After 1866, after Mr. -Kellogg was more than fifty years old, came that rather remarkable -period of story-writing. Uncommon is it for a story-writer not to -begin his career until after he has lived two score years and ten. -That Mr. Kellogg could tell a tale, however, in a way to interest -boys, his college mates discovered during his undergraduate days; for -those well acquainted with him in college, as they have recorded their -recollections of young Kellogg, seldom fail to mention that “he was -very fluent in talk, exceedingly interesting as a conversationalist, -and an excellent story-teller.” - -For some time before his resignation from the pastorate of the -Mariners’ Church he had been thinking of trying his hand at a boys’ -story, and in January, 1867, the first chapter of his first story -was printed in _Our Young Folks_, a magazine published in Boston by -Ticknor and Fields. This story, “Good Old Times,” at once became -popular with the young readers of this magazine. It is one of the best -stories that Mr. Kellogg ever wrote. It is largely a narrative of -facts--the story of Hugh and Elizabeth McLellan, the great-grandfather -and great-grandmother of Elijah Kellogg, in their struggle at the -beginning of the eighteenth century to cut a home for themselves out of -the forest wilderness of Narragansett No. 7, where the town of Gorham, -Maine, now is. Of Scotch-Irish descent, young, brave, and resolute, -“strong of limb, strong in faith, strong in God,” this couple left -their home in the north of Ireland to escape persecution, poverty, and -famine. They braved the terrors of the sea and the savages to found -a home in the new country. Accustomed as they had been in Ireland to -regard a landowner as the most fortunate of men, they deemed it a rare -privilege to secure land in Narragansett No. 7, by paying “but little -money and the balance in blood and risk and hardship.” They gladly -dared the privations of a savage wilderness to obtain some soil they -could call their own. - -Little wonder is it that the story of how they did this proves of -interest to the boys of New England; it is the story of what their own -grandfathers and great-grandfathers endured, enjoyed, and achieved. -Here, to be sure, they read of no fairyland peopled with elves and -sprites, with ogres and goblins; here is no fairy godmother with -glass slippers and pumpkin coaches, but a land of flesh-and-blood men -and women, of real boys and girls, of Indians with war-whoops, and -tomahawks, and scalping-knives--all true, but all enchanted by the wand -of the story-teller. What better fun for the boy reader than to join -this resolute family as they set out from Portland, and go with them -into the primeval forest; Elizabeth on horseback with a babe in her -arms leading the way, little ten-year-old Billy just behind driving -the cow, and Hugh with a pack on his back, a musket slung across his -shoulders, and another child in his arms, acting as rear-guard. Here -in the woods were hard work, peril, and poverty; but here, too, were -all kinds of interesting things for a boy to see and do. To help build -the log house, shingle it with hemlock bark, and stuff the chinks with -clay and brush; to see Hugh make the big “drives” and prepare for the -“burn,” an exciting and important event in the making of a forest home; -to watch the fire as it rushed through the clearing, and to lie in -wait, gun in hand, near the woods and watch the “raccoons, woodchucks, -rabbits, skunks, porcupines, partridges, foxes, and field mice ’on -the clean jump,’ all running for dear life to gain the shelter of the -forest, while a great gray wolf, which had been taking a nap beneath -the fallen trees, brought up the rear”--this was rare sport. To wear -leggings and breeches of moosehide; to gather spruce gum and maple sap; -on moonlight nights to shoot the coons that were stealing the corn; -to see the men cut and haul the masts, those immense trees upon which -the king’s commissioner had put the broad arrow, those trees so large -that upon the stump of one of the largest, so said Grannie Warren, a -yoke of oxen could turn without stepping off--this was fun indeed for -little Billy. What boy, as he reads the story, does not wish that he -were the son of a pioneer, even if the corn and meat did now and then -get so scarce that the McLellans were obliged to dine upon hazelnuts, -boiled beech leaves, and lily roots. In those good old times, men and -boys were not forced to betake themselves to tents and camps to get -away from our “modern conveniences,” to test their resourcefulness -and ingenuity in devising ways and means to secure food and shelter. -From the boy’s point of view that pioneer life was one long, glorious -vacation of “camping out.” - -And then there were the Indians, who, whatever else they did, kept the -life of that day from becoming tame and commonplace. They furnished, -when friendly, no end of entertainment for the youngsters. What fun -the boys had playing beaver in Weeks’s brook, and how delicious the -venison was when roasted by old Molly the squaw! Under the instruction -of friendly Indians, Billy learned to give the war-whoop, to hurl the -tomahawk, and to acquire great skill with the bow. If he could not, -like Robin Hood, cleave a willow wand at a hundred yards, he could -“knock a bumblebee off a thistle at forty.” And when Billy was fast -coming to man’s estate, the Indians, instigated by the French, dug up -the hatchet that had been buried for nineteen years; then there was -a call for all the coolness, cunning, and heroism that this pioneer -life had developed in boy or man; then Beaver, as the Indians called -Billy, and his savage playmate, Leaping Panther, were compelled to -pit against each other their prowess and cunning. Narragansett No. -7, right in the Indians’ trail, was the scene of many an encounter, -often bloody and disastrous in those days, but more exciting than a -Captain Kidd expedition when looked back upon through the eyes of the -twentieth-century boy. Driving the oxen, with a gun resting on the top -of the yoke, planting and reaping and every moment expecting to hear -the war-whoop, creeping serpent-like through the grass and stealing -noiselessly under an overhanging bank in order to discover an Indian -ambush--the story of all this arouses the heroic in a boy’s nature. - -After “Good Old Times,” from Mr. Kellogg’s pen the books came thick and -fast,--the Elm Island stories, the Forest Glen, the Pleasant Cove, and -the Whispering Pine series,--so that by 1883 there were twenty-nine in -all. - -While writing these books, the author lived in Boston, on Pinckney -Street, during the winter, often supplying neighboring pulpits, and -spent the summer at his Harpswell home. His favorite workshop was the -Boston Athenæum. Here he often wrote from morning till evening. One of -his college mates has said: “Kellogg when in college was strenuous and -persistent in whatever he undertook. I remember when he was composing a -poem or preparing an essay, he gave his whole soul to it; his demeanor -showed that he was absorbed in it and absent-minded to everything else, -until that one thing was done.” This power of concentration now stood -him in good stead. Often he worked upon his stories fifteen hours a -day. Upon his “Sophomores of Radcliffe” he spent a year and a half; but -by making his days long and concentrating his thought upon the one task -before him, he was sometimes able to turn out a book in three months. - -The style in which these books are written is not faultless. The -participles are sometimes“dangling” or “misrelated.” The uses of“most” -and “quite,” of “and which” and the “historical present,” are not -always according to the rhetorician’s rules. Flaws may also be picked -with the way some of the characters are introduced, transitions made, -and statements repeated. But considering the number of stories the -author wrote in these sixteen years, such mistakes are surprisingly -few. Mr. Kellogg had an ear sensitive to the flow of a sentence and -a memory in which words stuck. The rhythm of his prose is noticeably -good and his vocabulary excellent. Well acquainted alike with farmers -and sailors, with mechanics and students, he could put fitting words -into the mouth of each. The language of his characters does not -stultify them: his carpenters are not fishermen; his sailors are -not landlubbers; his farmers are not caricatures. He knew well the -“down-east” vernacular. In the use of the dialect--if such it may be -called--of rural New England, Tim Longley and Isaac Murch can give -points even to Hosea Biglow. - -All of these books are not of the same merit, and concerning them boys’ -opinions differ. Next to “Good Old Times,” perhaps the Elm Island and -the Pleasant Cove stories are most after a boy’s heart. An island -far enough out at sea so that the dwellers thereon cannot easily -supply their wants and consequently have to use inventiveness and -daring, is an interesting element in any story, whether it be“Robinson -Crusoe,” “Masterman Ready,” or “Lion Ben.” Although not a tropical -land abounding in cocoanuts, turtles, and parrots, Elm Island affords -abundant opportunity for boys’ play and boys’ work. “Does such an -island really exist?” writes a mother to the author. “No,” he replied, -“only in my own imagination.” And yet for many boys it does exist. -There is no need to describe Elm Island to the boys of New England. -They have trod every foot of it and know its every nook and cranny. -They know that it is six miles from the Maine coast, “broad off at -sea,” and that in the early days fishermen used to land there and make -a fire on the rocks and take a cup of tea before going out to fish -all night for hake. They have looked admiringly upon its rich coronal -of spruce, fir, and hemlock, the large grove of elms on its southern -end, and the big beech tree which often has in it as many as ten blue -herons’ nests at one time. They can tell you of its precipitous shores, -its remarkable harbor, its beautiful cove into which runs the little -brook where come the frostfish and smelts, and where the wild geese, -coots, whistlers, brants, and sea-ducks galore come to drink. That big -rock where the waves roar hoarsely is White Bull; and this smaller one, -white with the foaming breakers, is Little Bull. - -They know that “it was a glorious sight to behold and one never to be -forgotten in this world or the next, when the waves, which had been -growing beneath the winter’s gale the whole breadth of the Atlantic, -came thundering in on those ragged rocks, breaking thirty feet high, -pouring through the gaps between them, white foam on their summits and -deep green beneath, and--when a gleam of sunshine, breaking from a -ragged cloud, flashed along their edges--displaying for a moment all -the colors of the rainbow.... And how solemn to listen to that awful -roar, like the voice of Almighty God!” - -This island and the neighboring mainland Mr. Kellogg peopled with -likable and interesting characters. Strong, good-natured Joe Griffin, -beneath whose hat is ever hatching a practical joke, Uncle Isaac Murch, -full of Indian lore, skilled in the use of tools, always able to look -at things from a boy’s point of view, Captain Rhines, John Rhines, -Charlie Bell, and old Tige Rhines are dear to many a boy’s heart. And -Lion Ben, powerful, overgrown, agile, slow-tempered, warm-hearted Lion -Ben! Almost as soon could a boy forget Leather-Stocking as forget Lion -Ben. - -Situated as was Narragansett No. 7 some ten miles inland, in “Good Old -Times” Mr. Kellogg had but little to say of sailors and the sea. But -Elm Island and its sea-loving people afforded him large opportunity to -use the knowledge of ships and seamen gained during the three years he -had sailed before the mast, or the twenty he had ministered to sailors -in Harpswell and Boston. He knew all the pleasures which the sea and -shore afford inventive, resourceful boys like John Rhines and Charlie -Bell. Fishing and swimming, making kelp siphons, spearing flounders, -shooting coot and geese, building boats and sailing them into the teeth -of the gale--no author has told of these more entertainingly. Mr. -Kellogg loved the sea dearly and knew the words and ways of sailors -well. “Here,” says a reviewer, “is an author who knows just what he -is writing about. He never orders his sailors to lower the hatch -over the stern or coil the keelson in the forward cabin.” He liked -nothing better than to build an “Ark” or a “Hard-Scrabble,” load her -with lumber and farm produce, man her with Griffins and Rhineses, a -snappy crew of home boys, who would “scamper up the rigging racing with -each other for the weather earing,” and sail away to the West Indies. -Through hurricanes, blockades, or pirates, they would sail with colors -flying, reach their port in safety, sell their cargo for a handsome -profit, and come back laden with coffee, molasses, and Spanish dollars -to gladden the hearts of the dwellers on Elm Island and in Pleasant -Cove. - -The Wolf Run stories depict characters and events similar to those -in “Good Old Times.” They tell of the way a handful of Scotch-Irish -settlers in the mountain gorge of Wolf Run on the western frontier of -Pennsylvania, about the middle of the eighteenth century, built up -their homes; and of the “fearful ordeals through which they passed in -consequence of their deliberate resolve never with life to abandon -their homesteads won by years of toil from the wilderness.” Here, as in -“Good Old Times,” is a scattered community of a few families, frugal -and hardy, hating injustice and loving righteousness, to whom food -and shelter of the rudest kind are luxuries, and life itself is often -at stake. These stories are full of vivid pictures of frontier life, -making the “birch” and the “dug-out,” devising ingenious makeshifts -for tools and furniture, trapping the wolf and beaver, building and -defending the stockade. Here are many enlivening accounts of Indian -battles, ambushes, midnight attacks, hair-breadth escapes, and long, -hard chases on the trail of the Mohawks or the Delawares. Across the -pages of these stories walk sinewy men of oak, in moccasins, buckskin -breeches and coonskin caps, ready to fight or fall, keen of eye and -lithe of limb, skilled in forest lore, tireless on the chase, sagacious -in finding or covering a trail, keen marksmen, “delicate in nothing -but the touch of the trigger.” Sam Summerford, Ned Honeywood, Seth -and Israel Blanchard, Bradford Holdness, Black Rifle,--twin brother -of Cooper’s Long Rifle,--are characters which live in a boy’s memory. -These are stories of strong lights and dark shades; but they are true -to the life of that day, and show well “what the heritage of the -children has cost the fathers.” - -In the Whispering Pine stories the author relates the struggles, -achievements and pranks of a group of students in Bowdoin College. In -these books he has given us a good look into the lives of students in -a small college in the first half of the nineteenth century, and has -preserved in the amber of his story many Bowdoin customs. - -He pictures vividly the early Commencement, when nearly the whole -District of Maine kept holiday. From far and near people came in -carryalls and stages, on horseback, in packets and pleasure boats, -to join in the college merry-making. Hundreds of carriages bordered -the yard, and barns and sheds were filled with horses; hostlers were -hurrying to and fro sweating and swearing, and every house was crammed -with people. To Commencement came not only the beauty, wit, and wisdom -of the district, but also those who cared little for art or learning. -With dignified officials, sober matrons, and gay belles and beaux came -also horse-jockeys, wrestlers, snake-charmers, gamblers, and venders -of every sort. The college yard was dotted with booths where were sold -gingerbread, pies, egg-nog, long-nine cigars, beers small, and, alas! -too often, for good order, beers large. While Seniors in the church -were discoursing on “Immortality,” jockeys outside were driving sharp -trades and over-convivial visitors engaging in free fights. - -In his “Sophomores of Radcliffe” Mr. Kellogg tells us of the Society of -Olympian Jove, whose customs perhaps sprang partly from the author’s -imagination and partly from his experience. In those days the initiate -was made to rush through the pines and ford the dark Acheron, and was -carefully taught the signals of distress--signals which James Trafton, -with work unprepared, the morning after his initiation, much to the -merriment of the class, proceeded to give to the irritated professor by -squinting at him through his hand. - -Perhaps the most interesting of the early Bowdoin customs described -in these books is the “Obsequies of Calculus.” This custom was in -vogue many years, and a headstone can yet be seen upon the campus -marking the spot where the sacred ashes were consigned to dust. At -the end of Junior year when Calculus was finished, the Junior class -gathered in the mathematical room and there deposited their copies of -Calculus in a coffin. The coffin was then borne sorrowfully to the -chapel, where amid wailing and copious lachrymation a touching eulogy -was pronounced. The orator was wont to discourse of the “gigantic -intellect of the deceased, his amazing powers of abstraction, his -accuracy of expression, his undeviating rectitude of conduct,” his -strict observance of the motto that, “The shortest distance between two -points is a straight line.” Then came the elegy in Latin; after which, -amid the grief-convulsed mourners, the coffin was placed upon a vehicle -called by the vulgar a dump cart, and the noble steed Isosceles, which -“fed upon binomial theorems, parabolas, and differentials, and every -bone of whose body and every hair of whose skin was illustrative of -either acute or obtuse angles,” drew the sacred load to its last -resting-place. The funeral procession, consisting of the college -band, Bowdoin artillery, the eulogist and elegist, and the Freshman, -Sophomore, and Junior classes, moved slowly down Park Row, through -the principal streets of the village to the rear of the college yard. -Here the books were “placed upon the funeral pyre and burned with -sweet odors, the solemn strains of the funeral dirge mingling with the -crackling of flames. - - ‘Old Calculus has screwed us hard, - Has screwed us hard and sore; - I would he had a worthy bard - To sing his praises more. - - Peace to thine ashes, Calculus, - Peace to thy much-tried shade; - Thy weary task is over now, - Thy wandering ghost is laid.’ - -The ashes were collected, placed in an urn, and enclosed in the coffin. -A salute was then fired by the college artillery. The epitaph, like -that upon the grave of the three hundred who fell at Thermopylæ, was -brief but full of meaning, having on the tablet at the head,-- - - CALCULUS, - -on that at the foot,-- - - _dx_/_dy_ = 0.” - -But the Whispering Pine books were written for other purposes than -simply to depict the life of the college or to let us into the -escapades of the students. The dictum that “all art must amuse” did not -go far enough for Mr. Kellogg. With all his fun and “frolic temper” -he was too much of a Puritan to make amusement the chief end of his -writing. All of his stories were written with the avowed purpose of -making boys more robust and genuine and manly, of giving them redder -blood and broader chests and larger biceps, and at the same time making -them hate gloss and chicanery and love straightforward, courageous, -Christian dealing. So imbued was the author with this purpose that he -wrote his books, as he expressed it, “while upon his knees.” Often at -first he felt that he should be preaching rather than writing stories; -and it was not until letters came to him from all over the country -that he realized he was reaching more boys with his pen than he could -possibly have reached with his voice. - -Although written with a purpose, it is noticeable that his books -are not of the wishy-washy type. His boys are not Miss Nancies and -plaster saints. They do not die young and go to heaven; they live and -make pretty companionable kind of men. Mr. Kellogg was too much of a -story-teller and too strong a believer in truth to distort life for -ethical purposes. - -One does not have to delve deep, however, to find the lessons which -this author would teach. To college boys his advice is, choose your -chums well. College is not simply a place where learning is bought and -sold, where you pay so much money and get so much Greek or so much -philosophy. Not all college lessons are in your books, neither are -they all taught in the class-rooms. You will learn them on the college -paths, in your sports, in your dormitories; and generally it is your -chums who teach them to you. The set of fellows with whom you cast your -lot may make or mar you. College ties are strong. The boys with whom -you eat and sleep, those with whom you solve the difficult problems and -pick out the tangles in Greek and Latin, with whom you stroll of an -evening to the falls or a Wednesday afternoon to the shore, to whom you -tell your future plans, your love affairs, and your religious doubts, -whose sympathies mingle with yours “like the interlacing of green, -summer foliage,” those fellows are going to mould your ideals and -determine your character. - -Again, he believed that boys must not be afraid to lock horns with an -obstacle. A difficult job may be their greatest blessing. Richardson -coddled at home feels himself a weakling by the side of Morton whom -difficulties have made self-reliant. William Frost, who begins a -business career with good looks, good clothes, and parental influence, -returns to his home in disgrace because he “disregards the claims -of others, esteems labor drudgery, and expects recompense without -service rendered”; while Arthur Lennox, who sets out from his Fryeburg -home barefoot and penniless, his only inheritance “a strong arm and -a mother’s blessing,” wins success by unflinching toil. “Hardship,” -said Mr. Kellogg, “is a wholesome stimulant to strong natures, -quickening slumbering energies, compelling effort, and by its salutary -discipline reducing refractory elements.” The boy who is always dodging -difficulties will make a gingerbread man. Only by grappling can we gain -power to achieve. Only by having tough junks to split can we learn “to -strike right in the middle of the knot.” - -The value and dignity of labor is the ever recurring burden of these -stories. They teach boys to work as well as to play. Through them all -resounds the merry music of labor. The ring of the axe, the crack of -the whip, the song of the teamster, the screech of the plane, the -ring of the anvil, the swish of the scythe, the chirp of the tackle, -the creak of the windlass, the shout of the stevedore--all in these -books make a happy harmony and witness that man’s primal curse has -become his choicest blessing. Mr. Kellogg believed with Carlyle that -all work is divine, that to labor is to pray. Especially did he wish -to get out of boys’ minds the false notion that only mental work is -honorable. He thought that often it is as honorable to sweat the body -as to sweat the brain. As honorable and as necessary; for he believed -that it is only by keeping the lungs full of fresh air, and the pores -open by perspiration, and the limbs strong by activity, that a man -can keep his vision from being distorted. “The essence of hoe handle, -if persistently taken two hours a day,” would, he believed, cure -many diseases of the mind and heart. The devils of fretfulness and -fault-finding are not always to be cast out with prayer and fasting. -Often it requires labor in the fresh open air,--a good pull against -the tide, a long ride on horseback, or an hour’s chopping with the -narrow axe. Many a disheartened preacher who now mopes in his study -and who “takes all his texts out of Jeremiah,” would get “Sunday’s -harness-marks erased from the brain,” and preach glad tidings of great -joy if he would only start the perspiration by healthful, outdoor -exercise. Mr. Kellogg thought a boy should learn to work with his hands -as well as with his brain. All wisdom, he knew well, is not in school -and college. He appreciated the value of book learning; but democrat -as he was and well acquainted with common people, he knew that an -illiterate Jerry Williams or an Uncle Tim Longley can teach scores of -valuable lessons to many a schoolman. The boy who is too lazy to do -some of the practical duties of life, who thinks it disgraceful to work -with his hands, can have no part or lot in his kingdom. His boys are -always able “to cut their own fodder.” His ideal college boy is Henry -Morton, who is a keen debater, a good writer, a lover of the classics -and a lover of nature, but who, at the same time, can hew straight to -the line, cut the corners of many a farmer, and take the heart of a -tree from many a woodsman. - -Elijah Kellogg gave to the boys of America, at a time when they -needed them most, fresh, wholesome, stirring stories of out-of-door -life. With these stories he both entertained and taught the -boys,--entertained them so well that they never suspected they were -being taught,--taught them endurance, pluck, integrity, self-sacrifice. -He stimulated them to effort, inspired them with a respect for labor, -taught them to despise effeminacy, showed them that “the manly -spirit, like Dannemora iron, defies the fury of the furnace, and even -beneath the hammer gathers temper and tenacity,” that “pure motives, -warm affections, trust in God, are by no means incompatible with the -greatest enterprise and the most undaunted courage.” Such was his work -as an author, and it was a work worth while. - -[Illustration: VIEW OF THE KELLOGG HOMESTEAD AT HARPSWELL, MAINE.] - - - - -LAST DAYS IN HARPSWELL - -AS SEEN IN LETTERS AND JOURNAL - -WILMOT BROOKINGS MITCHELL - - -Mr. Kellogg accepted the call to the Mariners’ Church in 1854, not -because he had tired of his Harpswell farm or pastorate. They were as -dear to him as ever. But fitted by nature and by experience to work -among sailors, he saw in the Boston pastorate increased opportunities -for doing good. Doubtless, too, financial considerations had their -weight in this decision; for he had been unable to pay for his farm, -and he hoped from the larger salary he would receive at the Mariners’ -Church to save money enough to cancel that debt. While he was in -Boston, he did not sever his connection with his Harpswell parish. Each -summer he spent some time on his farm and preached a Sunday or two at -the church. And now and then these people would see him in the winter, -when some special errand of love or of business called him hither. At -such times they were reminded that the city was not spoiling their -minister, but that he was the same unique, unselfish, fearless man. - -On one November, for example, he appeared at “Uncle” William -Alexander’s with two sailors. These men, who had been dissipated, he -had persuaded to sign the pledge. He feared, however, that if they went -off to sea at once, they would forget their good resolutions and fall -back into their old ways of drinking. They tried to get work in Boston -and failed. At length they said if they only had a boat, they could -fish for a living. Mr. Kellogg thought of his own twenty-five-foot -boat, and at once they set out for Harpswell to get it. The morning -after their arrival a northeast wind was blowing a gale, kicking up a -rough sea. Mr. Kellogg doubted the feasibility of starting for Boston -in such a gale. Whereupon the sailors questioned his courage! They did -not know their man. “Don’t dare to, eh? We’ll see who dares.” Quickly -making ready, he set out in his little boat, while his old neighbors, -knowing his absence of caution or of fear, prophesied disaster. By the -time the boat was off Cape Elizabeth, the old sailors were begging -their captain to make harbor. But no; they must see who dared! When, -cold and drenched, they reached Gloucester that evening, they had fully -decided never to stump the sailor-preacher again. - -From 1865, when he resigned as acting pastor of the Mariners’ Church, -until 1882 Mr. Kellogg continued to reside in Boston, busily engaged -in writing his books and in preaching. During these years he supplied -pulpits at Wellesley, Massachusetts (1867), Cumberland Mills, Maine -(1869), Portland, Maine (1870), and Pigeon Cove, Massachusetts -(1874-1875). To the Warren Church at Cumberland Mills, the Second -Parish Church at Portland, and the Congregational Church at New Bedford -he received calls; all of which he declined. - -In 1882 Mr. Kellogg came back to Harpswell to live for the rest of -his life. He had worked hard in Boston and had made there many firm -friends, but a large city was not the place for one who loved the -smell of earth as well as he. He had often told his Harpswell friends -that if he could consult only his own wishes, he would rather pass a -winter in a brush camp built on the lee side of William Alexander’s -stone wall than return to Boston. Like many another, “he found himself -hungry to throw aside the tame and trite forms of existence and to -penetrate the harsh, true, simple things behind. His imagination and -his heart turned towards the primitive, indispensable labors on which -society rests,--the life of the husbandman, the laborer, the smith, the -woodman, the builder; he dreamed the old enchanted dream of living with -nature.” - -Though glad to return, Mr. Kellogg came back to his first parish a poor -man. His books had made his name known throughout the United States, -but fame and the consciousness of having done much good were his only -remaining proceeds from years of writing. By the fire of 1872, and -the consequent failure of his publishers, he had lost money that he -could ill afford to lose. Pressed for funds, he had even been obliged -to sell all his copyrights, with one exception--that of “Good Old -Times.” He came back to his Harpswell home in debt, his farm run down, -blindness threatening his wife, deafness and old age beginning to -creep upon him. But his old grit and courage were still left; and he -found his Harpswell friends unchanged, they and their children eager to -welcome him back and to help him in every way they could. As General -Chamberlain so well shows in the next chapter, he went to work with a -will to do his best,--farming, preaching, going wherever duty called on -errands of charity and consolation. - -These were undoubtedly hard years. His struggle with debt was often -embarrassing; his growing deafness caused him anxiety; and in 1890 the -death of her who had been his companion and counsellor for more than -forty years bowed him in grief. His son and daughter besought him to -come and make his home with them. But that was not his way. He must -stay in Harpswell and do his work. - -Between 1883 and 1889 Mr. Kellogg preached in the neighboring town of -Topsham, driving up Saturday afternoon and returning Monday morning. In -1889 he came back to his old pulpit, and there, in the church that had -been built for him, he continued to preach, until he died, on March 17, -1901, with this message to his faithful flock upon his lips, “I want -to send my love to all these people.” - -[Sidenote: Journal.] - -As one reads the journal which Mr. Kellogg kept during these years of -struggle, “the years,” as he called them, “of the right hand of the -Most High,” one feels that out of the struggle came a character which -ease and plenty could not have given him. His boyish enthusiasm, his -ready wit, his fun and humor, are all here; and here, too, is the -faith of one who walked as seeing the Invisible. He indeed proved the -promise, “To him that overcometh will I give to eat of the hidden -manna.” - -His abounding gratitude, his childlike faith, his willingness to put -his hand in God’s and be led of Him, his love for his people, and the -way prayer and deed were beautifully intermingled in his life, may be -seen on every page that he wrote during these last years. - -[Sidenote: May 29, 1882.] - -I have kept the day as a day of fasting and prayer. I have been called -by the church to go to Harpswell. I dare not refuse to go; at the same -time I do not see how I can go.... I have this day endeavored to cast -my burden on the Lord, feeling that as He has sent me to Harpswell, -He will provide me with a way of getting there and enable me to do -my necessary work. And I have resolved to trace and set down the -different steps by which I am led and to mark the finger of God in them -all. - -[Sidenote: Sabbath, June 18, 1882.] - -I have preached half a day and the people seemed to make much effort to -get to meeting, and seemed, I thought, very tender. - -[Sidenote: April 2, 1884.] - -In the evening went to see ---- ---- and had a most pleasant evening. I -believe I can do good in that family. - -[Sidenote: April 17, 1884.] - -This afternoon I went to the college. Found a new student, Morton, who -comes to meeting, and he invited me to his room. Saw B---- and gave him -a hint about his soul. - -[Sidenote: June 18, 1884.] - -I had my barley on the ground and by working through the afternoon -and getting to Topsham the last moment could have sowed it, but my -conscience told me that was not in the spirit of the resolutions made -the Sabbath before. Corrupt nature said, “It is duty to get your -bread.” I was enabled to say, “Corruption, go about your business, my -business is with God.” I went to my knees, made preparation for the -Friday night meeting, and was enabled by grace, on a pleasant, sunny -afternoon at four o’clock, to turn my back cheerfully on my work and go -to Topsham. - -[Sidenote: June 28, 1884.] - -I finished sowing barley to-day, and I knelt down on the ground and -prayed to God that as I had used my own judgment to the best advantage, -had taken the advice of others, had worked diligently, and had not -neglected my duty to Him that He would be pleased to bless this crop -sown so late and under so many disadvantages and give me from it some -good returns. - -[Sidenote: Nov. 26, 1885.] - -Rose early. Prayed with my wife, provided for her comforts, and started -for Topsham. About four or five inches of snow, the first of the -season, all blown in heaps, the ground frozen, wind northeast by north. -A cold ride. Got to the Baptist house in time.... I thank God I have -done my duty. I have since coming home prayed for Harpswell and have -been to the old willows and to the rock in the field and thanked God. -Oh, my God, I thank Thee that I have for the first time since my mother -died eaten a Thanksgiving dinner in this house, and the first time -since I was married, all the intervening winters being spent in Boston -and Thanksgiving observed in a hired house. I ate Thanksgiving in this -room with my blessed mother for whom I built this house, to provide a -happy home for her in her old age, in November, 1849, thirty-six years -ago, and have never eaten a Thanksgiving dinner here with my wife till -to-day, though we have been married thirty-one years; and never with -my children who were born in Boston where we have resided since our -marriage with the exception of the summers spent here. But I have never -formed any attachment to Boston. Here is my home. I cut the greater -part of the timber of this house with my own hands, had a hard struggle -to build it, and a harder to keep it. I thank God this night I am in it -once more. God give me a grateful heart. - -[Sidenote: Nov. 27, 1885.] - -I have been wont to kneel at the threshold when I went out in the -morning for the first time. It seems natural, loving, and right in -every way to ask God’s blessing the first thing before touching -the world’s work, and when I do it, the day’s efforts always seem -successful. - -[Sidenote: Nov. 29, 1885.] - -God in great mercy has relieved me of my cold and given me an exchange -at Harpswell, so that I preached to my old people. I have had a fire in -my study, read my mother’s Bible, visited the old willows, the rock, -the old maple, the Skolfield barn, the burnt tree, all my old praying -spots, and read over the “record of the years of the right hand of the -Most High.” - -[Sidenote: May 19, 1886.] - -Went to the old pine, read the Word at the foot of it, and prayed for -wisdom. It did me good. My heart warmed to the spot. Went to Knowlton; -he was very kind, left his recitations, and got me the book I wanted. - -[Sidenote: July 4, 1886.] - -Rose at six-thirty. Prayed and gave thanks. I strove to put myself -into the hand of God. Mr. Little came for me in a chaise. We went to -my father’s old church where I prayed and pronounced the benediction. -At two-thirty we went to the city hall. About two thousand people were -there. I spoke twenty-one minutes to the apparent satisfaction of -those who listened and those who brought me here, and the friends and -benefactors who have stood by me in my trouble. I call upon my soul -and all that is within me to bless the holy name of God who has turned -this thing I so dreaded into an ovation, and has given me strength, -patience, and perseverance to prepare for it under the pressure of work -and still not neglect anything.... I thank God that in this city where -I was born, where my father preached so many years, I have received -from the city authorities so much respect, they sending a carriage for -my wife and me, honoring me as his son, and fulfilling the promise of a -covenant-keeping God, who declares that He will show mercy unto those -that love Him even unto the third and fourth generations. I cannot -express my feelings of gratitude that I who so tried him and my mother -have been made by God the means of honoring their memory. - -[Sidenote: July 6, 1886.] - -Rose early. Prayed and gave thanks. A carriage was sent to take my -wife and me to the city hall to listen to the oration by Hon. Thomas -B. Reed. I was given a seat beside him. From there we went to a clam -bake on Long Island, and there I met and had much talk with Phillips -Brooks. In the evening we went to the last meeting, which consisted -in a general talk on reminiscences. Thus has closed this Portland -centennial. I have here received the most kindly attention, not only -from religious people, but from the civil authorities; have been -introduced to a great many people who have read my books and who have -spoken “Spartacus,” Phillips Brooks among the rest. I now humbly thank -God and ask Him to keep me.... Went to see Mr. Ezra Carter; he is -confined to his bed. He was very glad to see me. There was not time to -see him and go to my parents’ graves where I wanted to thank God for -the manner in which my father’s name had been honored in me. But Ezra -Carter has been my friend for years. He helped me put my father in his -coffin, and was for years his friend, and therefore, as I could not -do both, I thought it would be more acceptable to God to comfort the -living than to pray at the grave of the dead. - -[Sidenote: Oct. 19, 1886.] - -Oh, how great is the goodness of God to me! I have been to-day keeping -thanksgiving in my closet and in the sanctuary; though having extra -duties, I have found much time to pour out my soul in thanksgiving to -God. I have been looking back upon the sea of providential mercies and -noting the most prominent ones, but oh, it is all mercies. The trials -have brought forth mercies. I should never have known what God is if He -had not known my soul in adversities. He has been around my path in the -daytime, my couch at night. - -[Sidenote: Nov. 7, 1886.] - -This has been to me a most interesting, peaceful, and solemn Sabbath. -It is with us a day of Sacrament. At the conference yesterday I chose -this subject for my remarks: “Open thou thy mouth and I will fill it.” -It touched every chord of my soul. Indeed, I have of all persons to -open my mouth wide, for my necessities are very great. The purport of -the whole text and context is that of a Being so magnificent in all His -attributes, so infinite in His fulness, that we may, and are encouraged -to, ask great favors. And on the strength of it, after looking over the -record of God’s mercies in my journal for the past six years, I went -to the altar where I have administered the communion and threw myself -upon the mercy of God and opened my mouth wide and asked Him for His -name’s sake through Christ to put me in a way of paying my debts that -are such a dishonor to His cause, as I have consecrated my labor to Him -and work only for daily bread and to pay my debts.... I also asked Him -to grant me His Holy Spirit to interpret aright the indications of His -providence, for I surely do not wish to be a revelation to myself. I -cannot judge of their bearing on the present or the future. His written -revelations would be a sealed book to me without His spirit, and so -will the unwritten of His providence. I can see that preparation for -another year may have very important bearing on my stay here and on my -attempting to write a book: two things which have sadly perplexed me, -and which I am waiting and praying for the providence of God to solve, -as He has by His providence solved so many other things and brought me -out of so many difficulties which in prospect seemed insurmountable. -I feel now glad that Mr. Kendall did not come for me to preach at -Bowdoinham, though I sadly needed the money; for I feel that I have -seen my Father’s face, and I mean to mark the way by which He leads -me and take every step with prayer. God, in mercy withhold me from -attempting or even desiring to work any deliverance of my own. I now -prepare for the evening service.... I have just returned. The meeting -was full of young people. I certainly have no reason to complain of my -audience, though they may have of me. God bless them. I do not dread -this week so much as I did. God grant my first thought may be directed -to Him. Glory to God for this pleasant Sabbath. - -[Sidenote: Sept. 29, 1887.] - -Rose early, prayed, and gave thanks. Hauled in the forenoon all the -rocks required. Mr. Getchell finished at noon. In the afternoon I -took him to Brunswick, paid him, got my lime and sand, and got home by -dark. I have knelt down beside the wall that is now finished and humbly -thanked God for doing this kindness to me, for He has done it. Blessed -be God for the mercies of this day. - -[Sidenote: Oct. 25, 1887.] - -Rose early. Prayed at the hearthstone and the threshold. John came. We -sawed, split, and hauled the wood. The old house windows surprised him. -We then prepared the horses, and at noon John went home. Though pressed -with work, I felt prompted to go to the burnt tree and went to that -and to the old maple and thanked God and prayed for little Frank. Made -my fires and the company began to come. They poured in with full hands -and warm hearts to the number of eighty or more. Surely God’s dealing -with me in most unthought-of ways. Glory to God for the mercies of the -twenty-fifth of October. - -[Sidenote: April 25, 1889.] - -This has been the day of the National Fast, but has been more of a -thanksgiving than a fast to me, although I have abstained from food and -striven to humble myself before God. - -[Sidenote: Nov. 25, 1889.] - -Went to the Skolfield barn, prayed, and then with a tackle and much -contrivance put my ox cart on the scaffold. I then took the wheels -from the axle, and stowed them and the axletree away below. It took me -a long time, and was hard work. William and his boy and myself would -have done it in ten minutes, but as they thought and said I could -not do it, I did. If it had been twenty years ago, I should have got -help; but a person situated as I am--in debt, and having to begin life -anew--must not show any sign of failure of strength or energy. I did -it not for vanity but on calculation, as a duty. Especially is the sin -of old age fatal to a minister.... I am now going to treat myself to a -little agricultural reading. - -[Sidenote: Letter to Dr. George P. Jefferds of Bangor, Oct. 24, 1890.] - -... I am well and can preach and work and do all that I ever could, but -I have become deaf so that I cannot do anything in a social meeting.... -My people have retained their affection for me as strong as ever. -It was a love match at the beginning, and so it has continued; the -children and grandchildren have followed suit. I never have regretted -going to Harpswell, and I do not regret that I wrote the books; for if -I have reaped nothing, I have abundant testimony that I have scattered -good seed in virgin soil.... I am more than glad that I learned to farm -in my youth, and that I have all these years kept up my habits of -labor, that I can do any kind of farm labor and take care of cattle, -for otherwise I should not at this time have a place to put my head. - -I am writing you to-night before an old-time open fire, and I cut in -the woods the fuel which feeds it. I am thankful that deafness is no -bar to labor nor to writing. If it were not for the illness of my wife, -I believe I should write a book this winter.... I send you with this -letter a copy of the Commencement number of the _Orient_, by which you -will see that Bowdoin boys feel their oats and have aspired to govern -themselves. May God bless old Jeff, and may his shadow never grow less. - -[Sidenote: Letter to son, June 1, 1893.] - -You may be assured it is from no lack of affection or sympathy with -you in your mishap that I have not written before, but a complication -of circumstances, some of them of a very sad nature, has rendered it -impossible. In the first place, I strained my heel cord either by -jumping out of the wagon or by wearing a very tight congress boot, and -had to limp around for about ten days, but am all right now. Don’t you -think, the second night it was done, just as I was going to bed, two -men came from Bailey Island for me to attend a funeral the next day at -two o’clock. I told them it was impossible as I could with greatest -difficulty hobble to the barn. They said there was no minister in town -but me, and if I did not go, the person would have to be buried without -any service. Upon that I told them to go to John Randall’s and tell him -to come over in the morning, and take me to the intervale point where -they must meet me with a boat. John came; we rode to the point. John -took me in his arms and put me into the boat. When we were across, two -men, one on each side, led me to the house; when we got to the doorstep -one of them said, “Mr. Kellogg, do you think you will be able to -preach?” I replied, “Put me before the people, and the Lord will tell -me what to say.” The next morning my foot and leg were swollen to the -knee, and I could not get on a rubber boot, but had to wear arctics.... -I am all right now, however, and carried a bushel of apples on my back -to-day. - -I put the harness on the colt this week for the first time since the -10th of last August, the week before I was hurt, and he behaved so -well that I had to give him some sugar. I have cleaned him all up, -combed his hair and washed his face, and he goes to school every day. -He is a strapping great fellow and full of grit. - -[Sidenote: Letter to son, Dec. 1, 1893.] - -It is a rainy evening and I take it to write to you. Yesterday was a -most lovely day. I went to George Dunning’s to dinner. Frank’s wife -gave us a splendid dinner,--turkey, pudding, pies, and fruit, grapes -and oranges. Betsy was quite disappointed; she meant to have me, but -Frank got the start of her and invited me about the middle of the -month. I let Delia go home right after breakfast, and told her I would -get my supper. I came home from George Dunning’s about three o’clock, -took care of the cattle and got an early supper, and had a long evening -alone; that was just what I wanted and was planning for. I never can -feel that Thanksgiving Day should be all taken up with eating and -merriment. I never spent a happier evening than I did last evening in -looking over the year, and in praising God for what He has done for me. -I have food, fuel, and clothing, and food for my cattle that have come -to the barn in excellent order. Let us be grateful. Gladness is not -always gratitude. - -I have been to Brunswick and preached to the students in Memorial Hall. -I will send you and Mary both a notice of it. There are two magazines -and you can exchange them. I feel quite happy that I have got through -with the students. They checkmated me. I did not want to go and did -not mean to, but Dr. Mason, the minister at Brunswick, and President -Hyde wrote me and backed them up, and also the Brunswick people who -gave me a good deal at the donation and have for several years followed -suit; I had to give in. I was afraid I should not be able to see in the -evening, as the hall is very large and I have been preaching in a small -house for two years; but there was no trouble. It was a splendid light -and I had the service all in my own hands; no responsive readings. The -students did the singing and gave me two anthems. After it was all -over, I had to shake hands with twenty-five or thirty, and President -Hyde said he could hear every word. - -The town has made a road to the Lookout. They are going to build a -wharf in the spring, and the Mere Point boat will run there. It will -be of no benefit. It will bring a Sunday boat, rum, and tramps of all -kinds. - -[Sidenote: Letter to son, March 29, 1894.] - -I am glad you are having such good weather, and that you are enjoying -yourself setting out fruit trees. You can see now why it is that I am -so much attached to this spot. I have been through just what you are -going through now. I am eating the fruit of the trees I have planted -and grafted, and am sheltered by them in the winter and sit under their -shadow in the summer. Such labors attach us in a most singular manner -to the spot we have improved. The trees seem almost like children. - -[Sidenote: Letter to son, Jan. 22, 1895.] - -You ought to have been here to take supper with us last night. I got a -peck of large clams. Fannie baked the most of them and we set to work -tooth and nail. I never ate so many before in my life at one time. I -was almost afraid to go to bed, but I had a good night’s sleep and -experienced no trouble. We have had very cold weather till the last -week when it has been moderate. Until last Thursday I have not been to -Brunswick since the week before Christmas. The Sundays have been so -stormy that we could not have meetings, and I never preached my New -Year’s sermon till last Sunday which was a very pleasant day. - -I have before me two letters both from different places in New York -State and from men who have made their mark in the world, who attribute -their success in life to the influence of my books. I had almost made -up my mind to send them to you. Such letters do me good. I at one time -used to fear that I had done wrong in devoting so much time to writing -that might have been given to preaching the Gospel, but I have of late -had so many letters of this kind that I feel differently, especially -when I consider how many more persons a book reaches than a sermon. - -I have never been so pleasantly situated since my great loss in parting -with your mother as I am now. I have food, fuel, raiment, and health. -There has not been a Sabbath since I was hurt that I have not been able -to preach, nor a single day in the week that I have not been able to -take care of my cattle and do all my work. I am sure this is something -to thank God for. It is wealth without riches. Is it not something to -thank God for to have so many friends, so many to love you and wish you -well, and feel that you have been able to benefit them? When I looked -over that assembly of a hundred and twenty-five persons last fall at -the donation, many of them the grandchildren of old friends, and when I -look at Fannie sitting here ready to anticipate all my wants, and doing -all in her power to make me happy, and think here is the grandchild of -Pennell Alexander, one of my earliest and best friends, I feel that -life is worth living, at least for me. - -[Sidenote: Letter to son, Dec. 3, 1895.] - -Thirty years ago, Alcott Merriman died and left four young children -fatherless and motherless. He was a great friend of mine, and I kept -run of the children. Fourteen years ago Irving, the youngest, was -taking me down to Potts’s, and I entered into conversation with him -and urged him to give his heart to God. He received it so kindly that -I began to pray for him and the other three boys, Alcott, John, and -Paul Sprague, and have prayed for them ever since some time every day. -Alcott was converted and is a member of my church; Irving was taken -very sick a few months ago. I went to see him and found that he had not -forgotten the conversation fourteen years ago, and was then praying -for himself. I became intensely interested in him. I wanted him to get -well. I asked my church and many others to pray for him, that God would -forgive his sins and raise him up. I went to see him every week. He -lived almost down to Potts’s and the going has been bad. God did not -see fit to raise him up, but He gave him a new and wonderful peace of -mind. I wish you a happy New Year.... - -[Sidenote: Letter to son, Jan. 1, 1896.] - -Perhaps you recollect Mr. McKeen, the president of the alumni of -Bowdoin College, who introduced me at the centennial. He sent _The -Outlook_ for a year and five dollars as a Christmas present. He is the -man who owns Jewel’s Island. It seems to me as if God had been with -every step I have taken all this month. Everything I have put my hand -to has prospered. I have my whole winter stock of wood under cover. -Since I was injured I have always ridden to the afternoon meeting, but -all this month and part of last I have walked. My fodder corn held -out till the tenth of November. I have plenty of hay and my people -seem to love me better than ever. I hated to part with the old year; -it has been a pleasant year to me.... The missionary society got so -poor in the hard times that they gave notice that they must cut down -twenty-five per cent the churches which they helped, but they did not -cut me down; was not that remarkable? Thus you see I have a Shepherd -who watches over me. - -[Sidenote: Letter to daughter Mary, Jan. 25, 1899.] - -Though I have not written to you for a long time, you have seldom -been out of my thoughts. I never had so many engagements as of -late,--funerals, weddings, and letters that must be written. There -were two persons, a brother and sister by the name of Chaplin from -Georgetown, Massachusetts, who have visited here several years and have -always been very constant at meeting. They were here the first Sunday -in August when I preached in the old church where I preached my first -sermon to the Harpswell people fifty-five years ago. At Christmas they -sent me a most kind letter and a present of handkerchiefs and neckties. -I think I will send you the letter that you may know what friends I -have among the summer visitors.... - -George Dunning is dead. I shall miss him very much; we have been -near neighbors and friends for more than half a century. There were -seventy-five persons that got together, hewed out and raised the frame -of my house when I came here to live, and George Barnes and Stover -Pennell are all that are left of them.... - -Deafness is a great deprivation; it cuts me off from exchanging and -going from home to preach. I go up to the college, but President Hyde -sits beside me and keeps me from making blunders. I wanted to give up -preaching three years ago, but our folks said they had rather hear me -pronounce the benediction than any one else preach a whole sermon. I -thank God for the love of my people even to the third generation.... I -went to Betsy’s Thanksgiving to dinner, spent the rest of the day in -praising God for the great measure of strength He has given me this -winter and courage to face the weather and do a good deal of work; also -for the help He has given me in hard places.... Thus I had a most happy -day with my Maker and Benefactor who has held the tangled thread of -my life all these years, who has by His providence preserved me from -perishing in some of those harebrained, presumptuous freaks into which -my reckless nature led me. I look back upon it all with astonishment -and with gratitude. I can hardly realize that I once tied up one-fourth -of a pound of powder and the same quantity of saltpeter and sulphur, -and because the fuse I had fastened to it would not ignite, held it -in my fingers and put a fire coal to it with the other hand. I was -fearfully burnt; all the skin came off from my face, hands, and throat. -But God had some better use for me when that courage was needed in His -service. God bless you, my child! - -[Sidenote: To daughter Mary, April 26, 1899.] - -I am glad that you have named the little one Hugh. I trust that he will -grow up to inherit not only the name, but the virtues and qualities -of the old stock.... I am alone and have been for a month. It was a -great trial to me losing Esther; she was like a daughter to me and -anticipated all my wants. I trust the good Father who has thus far -provided for me will continue His paternal care.... I have outlived a -multitude of good friends and helpers, but the great Friend, He of whom -other friends are the instruments, is everlasting. - -[Sidenote: Letter to son, June 25, 1900.] - -We had a great time here yesterday. We put off our service till eleven -o’clock, which gave time for the boat to arrive and bring a great crowd -from Portland. Many of them were old friends of mine. Every one seemed -pleased and satisfied. It would have been a very hard day for me, but -Fannie came over and got dinner, and John Randall carried me down, so -that I had no horse to harness and take care of. I have lost one of -the best friends I ever had in George Barnes. He was but a boy when I -came here, and he helped me to get the timber to build my house. - -[Sidenote: Last entry in Journal, Jan. 14, 1901.] - -I am going to spend this evening in thanksgiving to God. - -[Illustration: AUNT BETSY AND UNCLE WILLIAM ALEXANDER, FOR FIFTY YEARS -NEAREST NEIGHBORS AND DEAR FRIENDS OF ELIJAH KELLOGG.] - - - - -REMINISCENCES - -JOSHUA LAWRENCE CHAMBERLAIN - - -A student coming to Bowdoin College in 1848 found the fame of Elijah -Kellogg already among historic traditions, shading somewhat into the -atmosphere of legend and the heroic. Wild stories of his youthful -exuberance, and the surprising ways he had of manifesting it, involved -so much that was extreme in prowess and peril, that they led more -to wonder than to imitation. An unusual quality and combination of -intellectual gifts, and a quaint style both of utterance and action, -together with an openness of heart, and ease of manner quite peculiar -to himself, gave him the reputation both of a genius, and of a queer -genius. - -His writings, too, had a peculiar effect that set him apart from -others. So much of his stirring power had been poured into his classic -descriptions that they were something like storage-batteries of manly -emotion. Whoever of the prize declaimers took “Spartacus” for his -performance was pretty sure to take the prize also, whoever were the -judges; and it came to be deemed not quite fair for a contestant for -the prize to make this his selection. - -These stories and associations connected with his name gave a certain -glamour to the idea of him before his personal presence showed how -real he was. But surely to those who were disposed to enjoy all the -advantages of college life, Elijah Kellogg was far from being a -mythical personage. Although a well-employed minister of a church in -the congenial neighboring town of Harpswell, he found frequent occasion -to visit the college; and preferably, it seemed, at unappointed -times. He did indeed, occasionally upon notice, address the religious -societies, greatly to their enjoyment and spiritual edification. -But he did not come into classrooms with formal introduction by the -dignified professor. More likely his visit would be at a private -room, and his announcement by a simple knock, known by its frankness -and assurance, at any time and at any student’s room he thought he -wanted to see. This was the signal, not for a general clearance, as -would be the case in certain other instances, but for the summoning -of a little group of special friends and those ambitious to become -such. This was the beginning of free and wide discussion along the -unmeasured circle of the _nihil humani alienum_. It need not be said -that these communications were held in a noble range, and a thoroughly -manly and wholesome tone. Sometimes, such was his confidence in us, or -distinct intention of putting us each on his own responsibility, as -to taking easy occasion to make fools of ourselves, that he would get -upon the recital of old sea stories, and perhaps touch lightly on his -boyish pranks in college. The element of personal courage, strength, -self-reliance, the despising of physical danger whether of accident or -consequence, lifted these examples out of the suggestion of meanness -and trickery, which were far from him as he would have them far from -any friend of his. Moreover, without the robust qualities of mind and -nerve which characterized the original, no boy would be foolish enough -to be led to imitation which would surely end in failure and ridicule. -All that was said or intimated in these recitals was always with -loyalty to the college and to the ideals of manliness. - -If these symposiums were prolonged so far into the night as to render -inexpedient his questionable return to his Harpswell domicile, it -was easy to find a bed in a college room for such time as there was -remaining before morning prayers. As to that matter, at the house in -town of more than one hard-headed old sea-captain there was always -ready just at the head of the stairs, with doors unlocked, a room set -apart for Elijah Kellogg. - -In the opinion of all he was the good genius of the college. The -fellowship he held there was of a higher order than that pertaining to -the arts and sciences; it was in the department of sound living and -straightforwardness. Not only was he the friend of every student, but -he was especially so of those who needed some guidance or correction -inspired by sympathetic understanding and directed by practical good -sense. For the faculty he served an office in the disciplinary line -not easily described,--call it adviser, mediator, mitigator, or -demonstrator of applied common sense. He had an idea that parents sent -their boys to college to be made to stay there and perform their -duties and work out their best, rather than to be sent away when any -little thing went wrong with them. Still he admitted exceptions. - -One of the recognized degrees of punishment in those days was that of -“rustication,”--country residence being supposed to be a balance or -compensation for some of the tendencies of the pursuit of the fine -or liberal arts within a college town. This was applied to cases not -quite deserving of technical “suspension”; but still was in fact -removal from actual attendance on college exercises, whether required -or prohibited,--a forced residence at the home of some scholarly -and judicious gentleman, where the attractions would be wholesome -influences rather than dangerous temptations, and where the pupil might -receive instruction in the three branches of learning pertaining to a -classical course, and thus be enabled to do what seemed less likely -within college walls,--to keep up with his class. - -Such were the peculiar qualities of Mr. Kellogg that these temporary -sojourns with him were much in fashion at that time, and, it is truth -to say, rather sought for by those a little backward or wayward. -Borne on the college books as a grade of punishment, it certainly -was not of the vindictive, but of the reformatory, or rather, the -sanitary character. In either aspect, to the delinquent “student” -this punishment was by no means clothed with terrors. To take up such -familiar relations with a man of stalwart manhood, who never lost his -sympathy and love for youth, and had the faculty of putting every -one at his ease and at his best, to say nothing of the provision for -needful exercise by going out often with an able seaman in a stout -Hampton boat, braving the terrors of the seas, and the beauties of the -islands of Casco Bay,--this should bring a boy whose forces were not -yet knit together in just balance, to his best of body and heart and -mind, and to some clearness of purpose and steadfast resolution. - -When after three years the writer of these lines returned to the -college as professor, Mr. Kellogg appeared in a new phase. The young -wife had known him under this higher aspect during her girlhood -association with mature and cultivated people. So we met now with a -broader intellectual horizon. His opinions on theological, public, -and political questions were rather conservative, but they were -illuminated by his warm heart. His presence was cheering in the home as -in the college room. He was a good adviser on practical questions of -life--for other people! - -When the War of the Rebellion threatened the existence of the Union -and some of us went out for its defence, we looked to see him take -the field or the seas for the honor of the flag under which he had -sailed. But he saw his duty otherwise. He was not even drawn by the -considerations which appealed to some of our brightest college men, to -take service as paymaster in the navy. With so many men gone forward, -he thought he had a duty to the homes. - -After the war, when circumstances brought the relater of this into -more responsible positions, our acquaintance became yet closer. He let -himself be seen at his best, and also in his deeper needs. He had done -a great and honored work among the sea-faring men in Boston, and he had -written many right-minded, bracing books for boys which have gone the -world over. All, however, from a singular course of mishaps, brought -him more fame than fortune. He had held on to his old place and -church relations in Harpswell; and thither he returned. His old people -welcomed him back and gave him their hearty support. But with all that -could be reasonably done, his income could not overtake his outgo. He -was in the position of Paul in the storm, with four anchors out of the -stern, wishing for the day. - -But he had a good little farm on Harpswell Neck, a long way off the -main road but with a fine outlook on the bay. With some strange -freak,--an abnormal desire for seclusion perhaps,--he had shut off his -front view by planting a thick hedge of black-spruce trees, effectually -concealing his home from the bay view whether from without or from -within. This black belt, however, served to mark the mouth of the -channel for those of us obliged to make port farther up the bay, or -good anchorage ground before his door for those who were bound to see -him even if they had to carry intrenchments. - -Well understanding the meaning of the old Antæus fable, he thought -to recover strength by contact with the earth. He betook himself -to his farm. No man ever worked harder at this or more completely -conformed to its demands. City friends, of the learned professions, -were not always considerate of his conditions and the pressure of his -“environment.” One Saturday evening just before sunset, and a shower -rapidly coming up, he was in his barn pitching off a load of hay up to -the “great beams,” with two loads more to get in before the shower, -when the “girl” came running out of the house calling, “Mr. Kellogg, -Mr. Kellogg, there’s two ministers come, and I think they mean to stay -to supper!” Strong stories are told about his remarks on this occasion; -but when questioned as to the truth of them, he would neither affirm -nor deny. - -With his honesty and sincerity he did not think it necessary to -change his working suit when he came to Brunswick for exchange of -farm products for commodities. His classical friends could scarcely -recognize him trudging through the streets accompanying--not -driving--his contemplative oxen. More easily recognizable was he when, -homeward bound and fairly out of the village, he would spur them to a -brisk trot, and enter port as suited him well, on the jump, with “very -rag of canvas flying.” At times, when under pressure, he would drive -to town with a peculiarly endowed colt he had raised, whose inclination -to freedom and independent “rustication” seemed to have well qualified -for a degree in the liberal arts. On one of these voyages the -demonstrations in these directions were of such centrifugal order as to -dislocate the normal relations of horse, harness, wagon, and driver, -and even the continuity of some constituent parts of the respective -latter three, leaving wreck and confusion behind, and nothing to get -home whole but the colt. Mr. Kellogg’s friends earnestly advised him to -sell the colt; but to no avail. He seemed to like the colt better than -ever; whether because of the colt’s facility of “high action,” or from -the force of classical studies, applauding the victor in the game, or -perhaps from that tenderness of heart that would not forsake a sinner. - -With all his love for the beautiful Birch Island just across the narrow -channel of the bay, which he had begun to frequent when a college boy, -he had an inclination--or what the French call a “penchant,” both a -leaning and a drawing--toward the wild and odd. This had led him to -carry his boat voyages around to the east side of Harpswell, amidst -some very bad ledges and boisterous seas, across to Ragged Island. -This has only a little boat-harbor, and is so difficult of access, -so storm-lashed and grim, that it was believed to have been, if not -still to be, a resort for those who had reason to avoid the customs -officers and agents of the courts, and not less implacable creditors. -A curious impulse to know more about such a place led Mr. Kellogg to -make acquaintance with this weird fastness in the seas, and the very -eccentric character who at that time made his dwelling there. It is -said that he even bought a half interest in the island. Many queer -stories have come down from that passage in his experience,--chiefly -of his quickness at repartee when some self-sufficient wight thought -to pose him with a sea-dog witticism; and of his skill in restoring -strong, rude friendships so quickly broken by some fancied disregard -of the extreme sensibilities of the longshoreman’s personal code. His -influence upon that class of men was wonderful, owing to their absolute -faith in his integrity and absence of self-seeking. As to his Ragged -Island proprietorship, whether he sold out or was sold out, the result -would be about the same to him. It was possibly such business ventures -as this which deepened the embarrassment in balancing his accounts. - -In the course of this varied struggle things came to such a pass that -he made known his condition to some of his most intimate friends. His -farm was heavily mortgaged,--in fact for about all it was worth,--and -the mortgage note was overdue and payment rigorously demanded. His -home was in danger, and he seemed quite broken up about it. In a very -private way this payment was provided for, and the mortgage taken off. -It was a day of deep revelations when this burden was lifted, and he -returned to a home which was in the dispensations of both law and -gospel his own. Nor was it any great surprise to hear it said that it -was mortgaged again not long afterwards. That would be the natural -outcome of habits he indulged in, of which a characteristic story may -be an example. His self-forgetfulness was of so obvious a character -that his neighbors saw fit to provide a fine new overcoat to cover one -mark of this deficiency. Putting it on one cold day soon afterwards to -drive to Brunswick, he met a poor fellow, gaunt and thin as to flesh or -other covering, poking his way down the Neck to something he called -home. Plain greetings were exchanged, when Mr. Kellogg exclaimed rather -than questioned, “Tom, haven’t you any better clothes than that!”--”No, -Parson Kellogg,” came the apology, “I hain’t got no others at all!” Off -came the new overcoat, with the Kellogg outcome, “Take this, then; you -need it more than I do!” throwing it over him and driving out of reach -of the astonished man’s protest, left to the necessity of keeping the -garment for the present, and the possibly not disagreeable reflection -that it would be of no use to try to give it back at any time. The -absolute verity of this story in every detail has not been vouched for; -but the fact of its general acceptance among the people shows that it -was true to nature,--that is to say, “Just like Elijah!” Anyway, the -story goes to prove his recognized character. - -All this time he was strictly keeping up his faithful ministry among -his faithful Harpswell people; doing good to everybody he met, -preaching stanch old-school sermons with irresistible logic, enlivened -by brilliant flashes of wit and flights of poetry and heart-reaching -illustration; a familiar and welcome visitor in every house, holding -the confidence and love of every home, sharing joys and griefs, -intrusted with innermost experiences; smiled at in some sense or other -by all who saw him; respected and revered by all whom he knew, whether -of his fold or of some other, or perchance without any fold, astray, -and, but for him, lost. - -His public ministerial work knew no limit but that of the hours of the -day. After his own church service it was his practice to meet every -opportunity to speak to the people on neighboring shores. Not only -was his boat seen threading the channels among the eastern Harpswell -Islands that made part of his far-outlying, conglomerate parish, but -pushing its way across the western bays to Flying Point, Wolf’s Neck, -and Freeport,--the track of this life-message more kindling to the -thought than the thrilling vision of the funeral boat-train faring to -these same places named in Whittier’s weird poem of “The Dead Ship of -Harpswell.” - -The people among whom Mr. Kellogg came to minister had marked and -interesting characteristics. Natural advantages for seafaring business -in all its variety had in early times brought to these shores settlers -of a robust type. Among them were many who, at that period when minds -and bodies were so astir in the old world and new over questions of -life, religion, and the social order, sought a change of place that -they might find scope for their abounding energies and unchanging -purpose. These were strong characters--men and women--strong in body, -mind, and heart,--and, it must be said also, in political and religious -faith. This implies originality, independence, diversity,--the outcome -of which is not a tame common likeness in the elements of a community, -but differences which when properly harmonized give strength to the -social structure. These leading spirits organized their likenesses -and differences into a little republic, based upon integrity, and by -mutual service tending to the common good realizing what was best in -the ability of each. They prospered. Many a noble old homestead stands -to-day on these island fronts and headlands, testifying to the uses -they made of this prosperity. These characteristics appeared in their -descendants down to the third and fourth generation. - -It was the holding together of this society, the harmonizing of -these elements, and bringing out their power for good, that made the -inspiring and noble work for Elijah Kellogg. With a warm heart for -all; the quick recognition of every worthy trait of temperament or -habit; taking in the sorrows of others with sincere sympathy; tactful -in dealing with weakness or defect; tolerant of differing belief or -profession; fearless of adverse expression or hostile force,--he -went straightforward in his work. He was appreciated. Most of those -he dealt with were in one way or another seafaring men; builders and -owners, masters and sailors of ships; men of wide experience, who had -seen the world, who had endured hardships, who had well carried great -responsibilities; the women, too, accustomed to enlarging thoughts and -sympathies. - -These were a people worthy of such a man as he was of them. His sound -instruction and faithful exhortation impressed such minds. Strong -doctrine, largely on the lines of the old Pilgrim faith, propounded, -pondered, and at least respected, meets and makes such characters. The -untiring effort to apply these principles in the practice of daily -living, instilling these elements into the springs of action and fibre -of character, inculcating the test of right and sense of honor for -the rule of social intercourse and endeavor,--out of all this comes a -mighty result in the course of years. For three generations in that -steadfast old town he stood at the gates of life. Birth, baptism, -marriage, and the passing over we call death,--none of these was held -quite acceptable to God, or blessed to the full for any, unless Elijah -Kellogg were the usher. To the last days of his life, he was summoned -from near and far by descendants of these families to perpetuate by -this token the covenant of the inherited blessing. His influence is -still powerful in the sterling character of that community, of which -it is not too much to say that it is typical of the best American -citizenship. - -One interesting custom kept up to the last was that time of all good -gifts and greetings,--the annual “donation party,” or reception, -for Mr. Kellogg, at that home of ample welcome, dear “Aunt Betsy” -Alexander’s, his oldest and nearest neighbor. What gatherings were -there! What types of strength and beauty! What harmonious contrasts -and balancing of youth and age, of soberness and mirth, of brooding -memories and forward-looking, untested promise! And all owing so much -of their worth to this one man. - -In his latter years Mr. Kellogg was more an object of interest than -ever. The inroads of advancing age did not reach his mind and spirit. -He stood up in his old church and gave strong sermons,--some of them -quite likely the same as had been given to other generations, but -equally applicable and wholesome now. People came long distances to see -and hear him. Summer visitors at neighboring resorts kept the circle of -admirers undiminished and filled the church on Sundays. - -He was often sought for to go elsewhere for one more greeting. At the -great meeting of the graduates at the centennial of the college, he was -entreated to be one of the announced speakers. His modesty and real -diffidence would not allow him to assent. But, as might be expected, -he was sought out in some of his old haunts within the grounds, and -brought in by acclamation. His was the best speech among them all, -which bore hearts away to the unseen bonds of fellowship and the -continuity of college life and power. - -In the very closing days of his activity-- in the mingling of the -twilight and the dawn--he was persuaded to address a meeting of friends -from neighboring towns held in the spacious auditorium in Merrymeeting -Park, by the riverside in Brunswick. Over against the solid physical -force of the vast assembly he stood with the aspect of an already -disembodied spirit; but in clear tones, as of a voice from heaven, he -delivered his message, in that marvellous, all-entreating discourse, -“The Prodigal Son.” Those of us who stood near, almost dreading lest -the winged words should bear him away, saw by the gleam of his eye -what joy it was to that great heart of faith, and hope, and love, that -his last commission might be to point out the way by which the wilful, -unworthy wanderer, with belated penitence, might find the Father’s -House. - -It does not seem quite natural to close these reminiscences without -expressing thankfulness that the last decade of years brought the -long-cherished friendship within even closer bounds. With a summer home -on the site of one of the great old shipyards came the good fortune -of becoming one of Mr. Kellogg’s nearest neighbors. After life’s toil -and trial, its strifes and storms and perils, we sat down within -hailing distance on shores sloping toward each other, looking over -quiet waters. It was a time of boats again; and their message was -still of glad tidings. It seemed but an easy row across the mile of -bay, with him on the other shore. Thus was more than renewed the old -habit of hospitalities and symposiums. The dreams of youth had been -interpreted; its faiths tested; its hopes and fears overpassed; only -its heart unchanged. We knew what we were talking about now; and there -was much to say. On Sundays we walked together the well-worn paths to -his familiar church with boyish embrace, caring not if any thought it -strange. Then, too, meeting at the bankside of dear friends departed, -with his words the last of earth. - -Now the black spruces stand in mourning; but our hearts go on with him. -His boat is still on the sloping shore, pointing seaward; so does his -cherished spirit help to bear us over. - -[Illustration: CASCO BAY AS SEEN NEAR THE KELLOGG HOMESTEAD, HARPSWELL, -MAINE.] - -Through nearly threescore years what blessed work was his! And -his reward is not wholly on high, although it will be so in the -consummation. But here and now and in the years to come is a great -part of it, in living power in the hearts and souls of men and women -walking worthily in this world, letting their light also shine to -illumine the path for others still. Who can estimate the value, the -power, the reach, of a work like this? Faithful friends are earnest -now to set up a monument to mark the place of his forth-giving and to -keep the memory of him fresh; but the whole world is not too wide to -look for the place of his power, and the memory of him belongs to the -eternities. - - - - -A TRIBUTE - -ABIEL HOLMES WRIGHT - - [On Tuesday, March 19, 1901, funeral services for Mr. Kellogg were - held at the Harpswell church. At these services Professor Henry L. - Chapman officiated, and spoke to the Harpswell people of the work - and character of their beloved pastor. A choir of Bowdoin College - students, members of the Alpha Delta Phi fraternity, sang appropriate - hymns. On the next day services were held in the Second Parish church - of Portland at which Rev. Abiel H. Wright, pastor of the St. Lawrence - Street church and an intimate friend of Mr. Kellogg, delivered the - following tribute, and Rev. Dr. George Lewis of South Berwick offered - prayer. The burial was in the Western Cemetery, Portland, where are - buried Mr. Kellogg’s wife and father and mother.] - - -In one of the pastoral psalms God’s thought and feeling concerning the -death of his consecrated servants find this expression, “Precious in -the sight of the Lord is the death of His Saints.” When the aged saint -comes home from the toil and trouble of his earth-time services, there -is joy in the heart of the Eternal Father. Angels rejoice when one -sinner repenteth and the life of faith is begun on earth, but when the -sinner becomes a saint and the long weary trial-way is trodden through -to its end, when, as the Lord sees, His servant’s work is done, and he -is received on high into the saints’ everlasting rest, then indeed the -death of His saint is precious in His sight. - -Fifty-seven years ago Elijah Kellogg began his life ministry as a -preacher of the Gospel in the humble village of Harpswell Centre, where -a few days past it was ended. What minister of Maine has ever been more -widely known and loved by its people than was this saintly and revered -preacher? As a young man of thirty years but recently from Andover -Theological Seminary, he began his ministry among the Harpswell people; -as an aged saint of God, nearly eighty-eight years old, known and loved -far and wide in our land, he closed that ministry in his death, among -the people he had seen grow up from childhood to declining age. He had -baptized the children of those who were his first parishioners. He had -buried the parents and in many instances the grandparents of those -who loved, revered, and supported him during the last years of his -laborious ministry. - -If we ask why he remained among them, when called to other and more -inviting fields of labor; why, when this honored Second Parish invited -him to its pastorate in the time of its strength and prime, he -declined to leave the little country church of forty or fifty members, -the answer is, because he loved the Harpswell people. They were his -first love, and they were his last love. Highly privileged people! -God-blessed church! To have had this holy man of God living among them, -passing by them continually, speaking God’s truth to them, serving -them in their homes, their fields, their boats, their sanctuary, in -the Christ-spirit of devotion, and living out his rich, fruitful life -of faith among them to its end, content and satisfied to have their -love and gratitude, and with his dying breath speaking his last loving -benediction upon them every one. It has been a beautiful life of -service,--a noble ministry for God and humanity. - -We have often wondered what Elijah Kellogg would have been had he -chosen to take his father’s pulpit, and the position and the prominence -which it would have given him in our city and throughout our state. It -might possibly have made of him a grander preacher than he was--and -few are the preachers that ever came to Portland pulpits who drew -larger or more satisfied congregations than did he; it might have made -of him a more influential clergyman in our state than he was. But who -will say he could have developed a grander character or won a fairer -fame than now belong to him? - -Elijah Kellogg was a man of deep and fervid piety--a man of prayer. -There are guest chambers in our city where his voice has been heard in -prayer for hours at a time, the memory of which is a benediction. There -is a chamber on Munjoy Hill, in which I have often slept, which Elijah -Kellogg frequently occupied as the guest of one of his former Harpswell -families. In that chamber he wrote parts of many of his surpassing -juvenile stories, and there he prayed often and long. - -Being a man of prayer, it was his wish and will to abide where God -would have him. It was God’s will that of the fifty-eight years of -his ministry, the Harpswell people should have his service nearly all -of the time for forty-three years, and part of the time each of the -remaining fifteen years. During the ten years he was minister of the -Seaman’s Bethel in Boston, as chaplain of the Seaman’s Friend society, -he spent his summer in his Harpswell home, preaching and ministering -to the people. Counting out the five years of his Topsham pastorate, -we may say that his connection with the church of Harpswell Centre was -practically unbroken for fifty-three years, and during his pastorate in -Topsham he continued to dwell in his Harpswell home. - -His work in Boston brought out one prominent characteristic of his -ministry: his interest in and love of young men. Elijah Kellogg was -every man’s friend, but he was preëminently the friend and helper of -young men. As he delighted to write books for boys, which helped them -to become right-minded and true-hearted young men, so he aimed in -preaching and by personal effort to reach and save young men. He did -so conspicuously in Boston. At the time when Dr. Stone was pastor of -Park Street Congregational church, Mr. Kellogg was preaching in the -Mariners’ church of that city. At that time Dr. Charles G. Finney was -at work as a revivalist with Dr. Stone. Rev. Mr. Kellogg had been, and -was then and subsequently, in the habit of meeting a class of young men -in Dr. Stone’s chapel. From among those young men he trained Christian -workers and led them down into the slums of the North End to help him -in his work of holding meetings on the wharves. - -One of those young men I knew years afterward, who devoted much of -his spare time aiding Elijah Kellogg in his good work among the -tempted classes of the North End. Two years later that young man came -to Portland to live. He became a worker, then a member, of the St. -Lawrence Street church. When Mr. Kellogg was back again in Harpswell, -this young man was a prominent merchant and politician, and a -well-known Christian worker in this city. - -At the dedication of the new St. Lawrence Congregational church in -1897, Mr. Kellogg made two memorable addresses, in one of which he -alluded to the lamented Henry H. Burgess, who had died in 1893, in -these words: “When I was preaching in Boston, Henry H. Burgess was the -bookkeeper for a paint and oil firm in that city, and a member of the -Park Street Sunday-school. I was preaching at that church, and saw that -the people were sending out old men to gather the young men into the -Sunday-school. I told them they would never do any good in that way, -and asked them why they did not send out young men to do this work. -They said they did not have any young men to do it, and I said I would -get some of them for the purpose. I preached one sermon, and the first -Sunday after that I walked fifteen young men into that Sunday-school, -with Henry Burgess at their head, and the next Sunday in came twenty -more, and so on, until finally the building was crowded to its utmost -capacity, and we had young men to work for us. - -“When Henry Burgess came to Portland from Boston, I gave him a letter -of introduction to Dr. Carruthers. He is no longer here,” continued the -aged speaker, while tears of emotion coursed down his bronzed cheeks, -“but though absent in the body, he is rejoicing here with us in the -spirit.” - -They loved each other, this aged minister and that strong young man, -and they were helpful to each other. They have changed eyes and clasped -hands, now, I believe, in the eternal home of the saints. - -It was during Mr. Kellogg’s life in Boston, in his home on Pinckney -Street, that he wrote his marvellous books for young people. Is there -here man or woman, young man or maiden, who has not read them and -received from them moral tone and stamina? Perhaps it is true to say, -and no discredit to Mr. Kellogg to say, that he was more widely known -as author than as preacher, and that he has probably done more for the -moral health of American youth by his breezy, fascinating books than by -his work as preacher and pastor. Yea, he has been a mighty preacher to -young Americans by the eloquence of his industrious pen. - -It would, I believe, be difficult to find an author who wrote with -a more definite and practical aim to Christianize young people than -did Elijah Kellogg, or one who had better success in the attainment -of his high and noble purpose. Mr. Kellogg possessed a genius for -that kind of literary work. That he had, in early years, the latent -art of an accomplished rhetorician was proved in his student days, -when he wrote and declaimed “Spartacus to the Gladiators,” while in -Andover Theological Seminary. It is well, doubtless, that Mr. Kellogg’s -literary genius was directed to the humbler, yet more practical and -serviceable, art of writing books for the moral and religious culture -of the young. - -As a preacher Mr. Kellogg was great, both in the art of making and -in the forceful presentation of the sermon. Rhetorical finish and -enlivening humor were alike natural and easy to him. I never have heard -a preacher who seemed more thoroughly to enjoy the effort of preaching, -and few preachers excelled him in the ability to make his audience -enjoy the sermon. How quickly could he change the amused interest of -the congregation in the play of his humor into serious and solemn -emotion by the power and pathos of his forceful appeals, applying the -teaching of his sermon to the conscience and the heart. - -He was a man of quick and responsive sympathies. His whole life was -characterized by the spirit of Christian benevolence. He not only gave -himself to his people to be ever and always their servant in things -spiritual, but as truly in things temporal. He was their counsellor and -helper in all their heavenly and earthly concerns. It was the habit of -his life to keep a purse for the Lord, into which went one-tenth of all -moneys received by him. Thus he furnished himself, systematically, -with the means to extend aid to those whose sufferings appealed to -his sympathies. It is said that he gave beyond his means, and often -to his own embarrassment. His services as a preacher were in constant -demand, from churches far and near, and he responded when he could. -Not a few churches have been blessed by his labors, at different -intervals, during his Harpswell pastorate. Here in Portland he was -greatly beloved. For nearly one year he was the continual supply of the -St. Lawrence Street church, and in the thought of its older members he -is regarded as one of its pastors. Portland claimed him as her own. He -preached at Cumberland Mills, at Wellesley, Rockport, and New Bedford, -Massachusetts, and in other places he has served the church of God. The -Congregational church in New Bedford extended to him a call, as did -this Second Parish. But he refused all such calls, being unwilling to -make any final severance from his beloved Harpswell people. - -In 1889, after the close of his Topsham pastorate, he resumed full -pastoral care of the Harpswell church, which had been served by others -during his work elsewhere, and there he remained until God called -him home. It was a wonder to us all how this venerable man, with the -infirmities of extreme old age creeping upon him, could still keep -on preaching in his eighty-eighth year, two sermons each Sunday, and -ministering as a pastor to his flock. - -His last visit to Portland was during “the Old Home week” in August, -1900. He opened the festivities of that notable week by preaching -Sunday morning in this Second Parish church, upon invitation of its -pastor, and preaching again in the evening of that day at Yarmouth; -returning Monday morning to the residence of his niece in the old -homestead of his honored father, the first pastor of this Second Parish -church, who died in that historic house on Cumberland Street in 1842, -aged eighty years. - -Elijah Kellogg married, after the age of forty, Hannah Pomeroy, the -daughter of the Rev. Thaddeus Pomeroy, pastor at Gorham, Maine, from -1832 to 1839. Two children survive this union, both residing in Melrose -Highlands, Massachusetts, Frank Gilman Kellogg and Mary Catherine, the -wife of Mr. Harry Batchelder. I was called to officiate at the funeral -service of their mother in the Cumberland home referred to, and rode -to the grave with her sorrowing husband. Returning from the cemetery, -the aged, grief-stricken man, said, “Now I will return to my home to be -alone with my God.” His words have been living in my memory ever since. -They implied that he was sure of finding the God of all comfort in -that secluded and desolated home on Harpswell’s shore. Who doubts but -the God we love dwelt there with his aged servant, strengthening and -supporting him in his loneliness and sorrow? - -His children desired greatly to have their father with them in their -pleasant homes, but he chose to dwell among the people whom God gave -him to serve unto the end. “I will die in the harness,” he would say, -in answer to their appeals. I have from the lips of his son the words -of the last prayer he was heard to offer some days before his death. -“I thank God for a Christian mother, who consecrated me to Christ and -the Christian ministry,”--the prayer was followed by his repeating of -the twenty-third Psalm.... Just before Elijah Kellogg passed away from -earth, he delivered this touching message for his Harpswell flock, “I -want to send my love to all these people.” Having loved his own, like -his dear Lord, he loved them unto the end. Yesterday the message was -delivered to them by Professor Chapman in his funeral discourse. The -very last words of this venerable man of God, this faithful shepherd of -God’s people, were, “I am so thankful.” - -Let us not attempt to interpret the words; they teach us that his -Christian heart was overflowing with gratitude to God. He was dying -in a good old age, his children around him, his people near him. He -was gathered to his fathers after a long, faithful, heroic, and noble -life. He leaves with us a most precious and a most blessed memory. -Our hearts, too, are full of gratitude to God for the life of Elijah -Kellogg on earth. - -[Illustration: FRANK GILMAN KELLOGG. -Son of Elijah Kellogg.] - -[Illustration: MRS. MARY KELLOGG BATCHELDER AND BABY ELEANOR BATCHELDER. -Daughter and granddaughter of Elijah Kellogg.] - - - - -DECLAMATIONS - - -SPARTACUS TO THE GLADIATORS - - -It had been a day of triumph in Capua. Lentulus, returning with -victorious eagles, had amused the populace with the sports of the -amphitheatre to an extent hitherto unknown even in that luxurious city. -The shouts of revelry had died away; the roar of the lion had ceased; -the last loiterer had retired from the banquet; and the lights in the -palace of the victor were extinguished. The moon, piercing the tissue -of fleecy clouds, silvered the dewdrop on the corselet of the Roman -sentinel, and tipped the dark waters of Volturnus with wavy, tremulous -light. It was a night of holy calm, when the zephyr sways the young -spring leaves, and whispers among the hollow reeds its dreamy music. -No sound was heard but the last sob of some weary wave, telling its -story to the smooth pebbles of the beach, and then all was still as the -breast when the spirit has departed. - -In the deep recesses of the amphitheatre a band of gladiators were -crowded together,--their muscles still knotted with the agony of -conflict, the foam upon their lips, and the scowl of battle yet -lingering upon their brows,--when Spartacus, rising in the midst of -that grim assemblage, thus addressed them:-- - -“Ye call me chief, and ye do well to call him chief who, for twelve -long years, has met upon the arena every shape of man or beast that the -broad Empire of Rome could furnish, and has never yet lowered his arm. -And if there be one among you who can say that, ever, in public fight -or private brawl, my actions did belie my tongue, let him step forth -and say it. If there be three in all your throng dare face me on the -bloody sand, let them come on! - -“Yet I was not always thus, a hired butcher, a savage chief of still -more savage men. My father was a reverent man, who feared great -Jupiter, and brought to the rural deities his offerings of fruits and -flowers. He dwelt among the vineclad rocks and olive groves at the foot -of Helicon. My early life ran quiet as the brook by which I sported. -I was taught to prune the vine, to tend the flock; and, at noon, I -gathered my sheep beneath the shade, and played upon the shepherd’s -flute. I had a friend, the son of our neighbor; we led our flocks to -the same pasture, and shared together our rustic meal. “One evening, -after the sheep were folded, and we were all seated beneath the myrtle -that shaded our cottage, my grandsire, an old man, was telling of -Marathon and Leuctra, and how, in ancient times, a little band of -Spartans, in a defile of the mountains, withstood a whole army. I did -not then know what war meant; but my cheeks burned, I knew not why; -and I clasped the knees of that venerable man, till my mother, parting -the hair from off my brow, kissed my throbbing temples, and bade me -go to rest and think no more of those old tales and savage wars. And, -methinks, if I could look on something other than warrior’s harness and -the blinding glare of burnished steel, and hear some other sound than -death groans and armor clangs, could I but lay these throbbing temples -upon the soft green turf beside my native brook, and let my hand hang -over the bank into its blessed current, and feel the broad sweep of its -waters, while the leaves danced over me, methinks that I could heave -this cursed crust from off my heart and be again a child. Yes, a child, -a child! But what have I to do with thoughts like these? I do forget my -story. - -“That very night the Romans landed on our shore, and the clash of steel -was heard within our quiet vale. I saw the breast that had nourished -me trampled by the iron hoof of the war-horse; the bleeding body of my -father flung amid the blazing rafters of our dwelling. To-day I killed -a man in the arena, and when I broke his helmet-clasps, behold! he -was my friend! He knew me,--smiled faintly,--gasped,--and died; the -same sweet smile that I had marked upon his face when, in adventurous -boyhood, we scaled some lofty cliff to pluck the first ripe grapes, and -bear them home in childish triumph. I told the prætor he was my friend, -noble and brave, and I begged his body, that I might burn it upon the -funeral-pile, and mourn over his ashes. Ay, on my knees, amid the dust -and blood of the arena, I begged that boon, while all the Roman maids -and matrons, and those holy virgins they call vestal, and the rabble, -shouted in mockery, deeming it rare sport, forsooth, to see Rome’s -fiercest gladiator turn pale, and tremble like a very child before -that piece of bleeding clay; but the prætor drew back as if I were -pollution, and sternly said: ’Let the carrion rot! There are no noble -men but Romans!’ And he, deprived of funeral rites, must wander, a -hapless ghost, beside the waters of that sluggish river, and look--and -look--and look in vain to the bright Elysian Fields where dwell his -ancestors and noble kindred. And so must you, and so must I, die like -dogs! - -“O Rome! Rome! thou hast been a tender nurse to me! Ay, thou hast given -to that poor, gentle, timid shepherd-lad, who never knew a harsher -sound than a flute-note, muscles of iron and a heart of flint; taught -him to drive the sword through rugged brass and plaited mail, and warm -it in the marrow of his foe! to gaze into the glaring eyeballs of the -fierce Numidian lion, even as a smooth-cheeked boy upon a laughing -girl. And he shall pay thee back till thy yellow Tiber is red as -frothing wine, and in its deepest ooze thy lifeblood lies curdled! - -“Ye stand here now like giants, as ye are! The strength of brass as -in your toughened sinews; but to-morrow some Roman Adonis, breathing -sweet odors from his curly locks, shall come, and with his lily fingers -pat your brawny shoulders, and bet his sesterces upon your blood! Hark! -Hear ye yon lion roaring in his den? ’Tis three days since he tasted -meat; but to-morrow he shall break his fast upon your flesh; and ye -shall be a dainty meal for him. - -“If ye are brutes, then stand here like fat oxen waiting for the -butcher’s knife; if ye are men, follow me! strike down yon sentinel, -and gain the mountain-passes, and there do bloody work as did your -sires at old Thermopylæ! Is Sparta dead? Is the old Grecian spirit -frozen in your veins, that ye do crouch and cower like base-born slaves -beneath your master’s lash? O comrades! warriors! Thracians! if we -must fight, let us fight for ourselves; if we must slaughter, let us -slaughter our oppressors; if we must die, let us die under the open -sky, by the bright waters, in noble, honorable battle.” - - - - -REGULUS TO THE CARTHAGINIANS - - -The beams of the rising sun had gilded the lofty domes of Carthage, -and given, with its rich and mellow light, a tinge of beauty even to -the frowning ramparts of the outer harbor. Sheltered by the verdant -shores, an hundred triremes were riding proudly at their anchors, their -brazen beaks glittering in the sun, their streamers dancing in the -morning breeze, while many a shattered plank and timber gave evidence -of desperate conflict with the fleets of Rome. - -No murmur of business or of revelry arose from the city. The artisan -had forsaken his shop, the judge his tribunal, the priest the -sanctuary, and even the stern stoic had come forth from his retirement -to mingle with the crowd that, anxious and agitated, were rushing -toward the senate house, startled by the report that Regulus had -returned to Carthage. - -Onward, still onward, trampling each other under foot, they rushed, -furious with anger and eager for revenge. Fathers were there whose sons -were groaning in Roman fetters; maidens whose lovers, weak and wounded, -were dying in the distant dungeons of Rome; and gray-haired men and -matrons whom Roman steel had left childless. - -But when the stern features of Regulus were seen, and his colossal form -towering above the ambassadors who had returned with him from Rome; -when the news passed from lip to lip that the dreaded warrior, so far -from advising the Roman senate to consent to an exchange of prisoners, -had urged them to pursue, with exterminating vengeance, Carthage and -the Carthaginians,--the multitude swayed to and fro like a forest -beneath a tempest, and the rage and hate of that tumultuous throng -vented itself in groans, and curses, and yells of vengeance. But calm, -cold, and immovable as the marble walls around him, stood Regulus the -Roman; and he stretched out his hand over that frenzied crowd, with -gesture as proudly commanding as though he still stood at the head of -the gleaming cohorts of Rome. - -The tumult ceased; the curse, half muttered, died upon the lip; and so -intense was the silence that the clanking of the brazen manacles upon -the wrists of the captive fell sharp and full upon every ear in that -vast assembly, as he thus addressed them:-- - -“Ye doubtless thought--for ye judge of Roman virtue by your own--that -I would break my plighted oath, rather than, returning, brook your -vengeance. I might give reasons for this, in Punic comprehension, most -foolish act of mine. I might speak of those eternal principles which -make death for one’s country a pleasure, not a pain. But, by great -Jupiter! methinks I should debase myself to talk of such high things -to you; to you, expert in womanly inventions; to you, well skilled to -drive a treacherous trade with simple Africans for ivory and gold! If -the bright blood that fills my veins, transmitted free from godlike -ancestry, were like that slimy ooze which stagnates in your arteries, I -had remained at home and broken my plighted oath to save my life. - -“I am a Roman citizen; therefore have I returned, that ye might work -your will upon this mass of flesh and bones which I esteem no higher -than the rags that cover them. Here, in your capital, do I defy you. -Have I not conquered your armies, fired your towns, and dragged your -generals at my chariot wheels, since first my youthful arms could wield -a spear? And do you think to see me crouch and cower before a tamed and -shattered senate? The tearing of flesh and the rending of sinews are -but pastime compared with the mental agony that heaves my frame. - -“The moon has scarce yet waned since the proudest of Rome’s proud -matrons, the mother upon whose breast I slept, and whose fair brow so -oft had bent over me before the noise of battle had stirred my blood, -or the fierce toil of war nerved my sinews, did with the fondest memory -of bygone hours entreat me to remain. I have seen her, who, when my -country called me to the field, did buckle on my harness with trembling -hands, while the tears fell thick and fast down the hard corselet -scales,--I have seen her tear her gray locks and beat her aged breast, -as on her knees she begged me not to return to Carthage; and all the -assembled senate of Rome, grave and reverend men, proffered the same -request. The puny torments which ye have in store to welcome me withal -shall be, to what I have endured, even as the murmur of a summer’s -brook to the fierce roar of angry surges on a rocky beach. - -“Last night, as I lay fettered in my dungeon, I heard a strange ominous -sound; it seemed like the distant march of some vast army, their -harness clanging as they marched, when suddenly there stood by me -Xanthippus, the Spartan general, by whose aid you conquered me, and, -with a voice low as when the solemn wind moans through the leafless -forest, he thus addressed me: ’Roman, I come to bid thee curse, with -thy dying breath, this fated city; know that in an evil moment, the -Carthaginian generals, furious with rage that I had conquered thee, -their conqueror, did basely murder me. And then they thought to stain -my brightest honor. But, for this foul deed, the wrath of Jove shall -rest upon them here and hereafter.’ And then he vanished. - -“And now, go bring your sharpest torments. The woes I see impending -over this guilty realm shall be enough to sweeten death, though every -nerve and artery were a shooting pang. I die! but my death shall prove -a proud triumph; and, for every drop of blood ye from my veins do -draw, your own shall flow in rivers. Woe to thee, Carthage! Woe to -the proud city of the waters! I see thy nobles wailing at the feet of -Roman senators! thy citizens in terror! thy ships in flames! I hear the -victorious shouts of Rome! I see her eagles glittering on her ramparts. -Proud city, thou art doomed! The curse of Jove is on thee--a clinging, -wasting curse. It shall not leave thy gates till hungry flames shall -lick the fretted gold from off thy proud palaces, and every brook runs -crimson to the sea.” - - - - -HANNIBAL AT THE ALTAR - - -The last rays of the setting sun lingered on the towers of Carthage, -and tinged with a warm flush the snowy crests of the waves that flung -their gray foam to its very ramparts. Laughing maidens, bearing their -pitchers from the fountains, assembled at the gates; tired camels that -all day long had borne from distant and tributary realms vestments of -purple, fragrant gums, and dust of gold, released from their burdens, -were feeding beneath the walls; while from the deck of many a galley -the slave’s rude song floated on the evening air. - -In a quiet vale, secluded, yet not distant from the city, beneath the -shadow of a palm, reclines a lovely woman; the low-voiced summer wind, -stirring the citron groves, has lulled her to rest. The ripe grapes -from a pendent vine almost touch her swelling breast. The spray of a -neighboring fountain falls in minute drops, like tears of pearl, on -her cheek, while a beautiful boy, tired with play, has nestled to her -side, half hidden by her flowing locks. - -Hurried footsteps are heard in the distance, a heavy hand puts aside -the branches, and Hamilcar, the chieftain of the Carthaginian armies, -stands beneath the shadow of the palm; as he bends forward to look upon -his slumbering wife, a ripe grape, shaken by the plume of his helmet -from the cluster, falls upon the face of the sleeper, and she awakes. -Bright tears of pride and joy glitter in her dark eyes, as, seated at -his feet among the flowers, her white arm flung in careless happiness -across his sinewy knees and throbbing in his gauntleted grasp, she -gazes on the towering form and noble brow on which the stern traces -of recent conflict still linger. Tempests have bronzed his cheek, -desperate and bloody conflicts left their scars upon him; yet is he not -less dear to her than when in joy of youth they crowned the altars of -the gods with flowers, sporting among the sheaves at harvest home. Thus -she speaks:-- - -“My lord, is it disaster or business of the State that brings you -here? Your eye is troubled, and these iron fingers too rudely press -my flesh, as though your thoughts were dark and fraught with doubt or -danger.” - -“I have left the camp to make good a purpose long since known to thee, -to devote with sacred rites this boy at the altar of Mars, and pledge -him to eternal enmity with Rome.” - -“Is this the weighty business which brings thee at this twilight and -unaccustomed hour, thine armor soiled with dust, thy brow with sweat, -in such fierce haste to pluck this fair child from his mother’s breast, -and train him up to slaughter? Strange that this great empire, so full -of men and arms and fleets of war, should need the arm of childhood to -protect it. Stern man, thou lovest me not.” - -“Why question thus my love? For as this breastplate does my heart -defend, so have I cherished and protected thee, while in thy fragile -beauty thou hast clung around the warrior’s stubborn strength, even as -that wreathing vine doth yonder citron clasp, adorning its protector; -but little dost thou know, fair wife, of the affairs of nations and of -camps. Beneath these shades where the cool zephyr from Trinacrian hills -breathes through spicy groves thou hast reposed; no tear has stained -thy cheek except the fountain’s pearly drops that glistened there when -I thy sleep disturbed. - -“Not thus my path has lain; too well I know the Roman’s iron strength; -in times of truce and intervals of conflict I have seen his daily -life and marked his customs well. Poverty, at Carthage a disgrace, he -but rejoices in. The water of the brook to quench his thirst, the dry -leaves for his bed, and bread of simplest preparation supply his wants. -Then, as the fierce she-wolf whose dugs nourished his ancestors doth -raven for her whelps, so goes he forth to plunder and to prey among -the nations, and, for the sake of stealing that which stolen is not -worth the keeping, will life and fortune set upon a cast. Show to a -Roman senate some patch of sand within mid-Africa, some waste of Alpine -rocks, white with eternal snows, where, famished peasants watch their -starving flocks and wrestle with the avalanche for life; did Phlegethon -with all his burning waves the wretched pittance guard, and fierce -Eumenides beleaguer all the shore, yet would a Roman consul dare the -flood, do battle with the lion for his sands, and slay the shivering -goatherd for his rocks. - -“The Romans turn their greedy eyes toward these fair realms; they seek -to lay in ashes these ancestral towers, where whatsoever piety reveres, -memory recalls, or old affection cherishes, is garnered and bestowed, -nor will they pause till every wave of this encircling sea, crimsoned -with the gore of matrons, of aged men, and even of the laughing and -unconscious babe, shall roll its bloody burden to the shore. - -“Most unequal is the conflict. The men who reared these towers and -moistened with their blood these battlements are not; in their stead -has come a race of petty shopkeepers and sycophants, having no inner -life, no haughty purpose or generous resolve, no strength to keep what -their forefathers won. The streets are thronged with youths whose -dainty limbs are clad in flowing and embroidered robes, whose jewelled -fingers are skilful to touch the lyre, but not to press the war-horse -through ranks of thronging spearmen, to draw the Numidian arrow to the -head, and dip its thirsty point in hostile blood. The rest are veterans -gray with years, and most unfit for service, like the shepherd’s dog -that, stiff with age and pampered with good living, erects his hair -and shows his toothless jaws, making in vain a noble front before the -gaunt and wiry wolf. - -“Our only hope is in the legions I have drawn from Spain, and trained -in foreign wars to conflict. But my step, once lighter than the -brindled tigers on the Libyan sands, grows heavy with weight of years -and hardships. Were I to fall, armies would lack a leader, my country -one who loves her better than himself, or wife, or child. But the blood -that mantles in this boy’s cheek is that of heroes; thine ancestors and -mine were chieftains of the olden time; and when the lion shall breed -sheep will I believe that any of our race and lineage can ever fail -their country in her hour of need. Therefore, despite thy tears, mine -own affection, and his tender age, from off thy bosom will I take this -child and as the lion brings his whelps afield with claws half-grown -and trains them on the hunters, so will I him. It is not what we -choose, but what our country needs, and sacred liberty requires, that -we must do, though in the conflict our own heartstrings break. He shall -be the enemy of Rome in soul and body and in secret thought. He shall -not feed on dainties and sleep on Tyrian purple till he becomes the -object of men’s sneers. The panther’s shaggy hide, the forest leaves, -the dry bed of some mountain brook, shall be his couch, while on my -corselet scales his cheek shall rest,--the soldier’s iron pillow; and -when with growing strength and hardihood his bones endure the harness, -behind his father’s buckler he shall learn to fight and bathe his -maiden sword in blood.” - -At the altar of Mars, surrounded by a vast throng of citizens, -soldiery, and chief estates of the realm, stands Hamilcar; his helmet -down conceals his features from the crowd. On the opposite side of the -altar are his wife and her maidens; at his side the child. Placing -his little fingers on the yet quivering flesh of the victim, he said: -“Hannibal, son of Hamilcar, swear, by this consecrated blood, and in -the presence of that dread God of battles on whose altar it smokes, -that you will neither love nor make peace with any of Roman blood; -should fortune, friends, and weapons fail, you will still live and die -the inexorable enemy of Rome.” - -As he paused, the clear tones of that childish voice, answering, “I -swear,” rose upon a stillness so deep that the low crackling of the -flames that fed the altar-fires were distinctly audible. - -It was broken by one wild shriek of agony, as the frantic mother fell -fainting into the arms of her maidens. - -The stern chieftain spake not, but, as he stooped to raise the child, a -single tear, falling between the bars of his helmet upon the upturned -face of the wondering boy, told of the agony within. - - - - -PERICLES TO THE PEOPLE - - -Imagine yourself at Athens, among that strange people of feverish -blood, who deify to-day the man they slaughtered but yesterday. The -voice of the herald proclaims that Pericles is to be arraigned before -the tribunal of the people. Borne along by the crowd, you enter the -hall of justice. Not a sword rattles in its scabbard; not a mailed foot -rings on the marble floor; one deep, intense, ominous silence pervades -that dangerous assembly, as Pericles, rising, thus addresses them:-- - -“Ye men of Athens, I come not here to plead for life, though it be -spent in exile; to entreat for a breath, though it be drawn in the -damps of a dungeon; but to refute a vile slander; to show that he who -invents and propagates a falsehood, like Sisyphus, rolls a stone to -return and crush him. Cratinus accuses me of having embezzled the money -raised for the defence of Greece, and of having expended it in adorning -the city of Athens, as a proud and vain woman decketh herself with -jewels. - -“Have I not defended Greece, while Sparta and the allies were reposing -in comfort by their own firesides? He avers that I was often at the -house of Phidias to admire his statues, but insinuates that I had -a softer motive. Suppose I had; rather let him show in what I have -betrayed my country, when I have oppressed the poor, polluted myself -with bribes, or turned back in the hour of battle. He accuses me of -sacrificing the lives of brave men to my vaulting ambition, and even -affects to shed tears over those who fell, in the flower of their -youth, at Samos. - -“Sacrificing! Were they machines to move at my bidding? bullocks to -be dragged up and offered at the altar of Mars? Were they Persian -mercenaries, to be driven with whips to the conflict? or were they -patriots defending their firesides, and I their elder brother? They -were the descendants of those who fell at Marathon,--men whose youthful -locks had been worn off by the helmet, and whose fingers grew to the -sword-hilt. - -“The parents of those brave men did not, with reddening cheeks, behold -them lying on some feverish couch, like a sick girl, crying for -cooling drinks; but they died with their wounds in front, the broken -sword in their hand, and the shout of victory ringing in their ears. -Oh, yes! one hour of glorious conflict--when the blood leaps and the -muscles rally for the mastery, when the hero’s soul wings its way -through gaping wounds to Elysium--is worth a whole eternity of sitting -in senates and dull debates, and private bickerings, and tame, common -life. - -“One day, as we were making forced marches across the isthmus in -pursuit of the Lacedæmonians, a woman, following the camp as a sutler, -with a child at her breast, fell and expired from fatigue. A soldier -raised a spear to despatch the infant. Moved with compassion, I struck -down his weapon; for I thought of my own little ones at home, whose -kisses were scarcely yet cold on my lips, and even in the confusion of -pursuit, I provided him with a nurse. - -“On my return, he accompanied me, grew up with my children, fed at my -table, slept in my tent, and fought behind my shield. As a reward for -life, education, and a thousand anxious cares incurred, he has now, -by false accusation, summoned me to the tribunal of my country, to -plead for that life which has ever been held cheap in her service. What -shall be done with such a wretch? I hear you exclaim: ’Send for the -executioner! burn him to ashes! fling him from the Acropolis!’ - -“Cratinus, thou art that wretch; and yet methinks thou hast not -altogether the noble bearing of the patriot who rejoices that he has -been able to bring to justice the betrayer of his country; but thou -hast rather the look of some timid shepherd, who, in chasing the stag, -and pursuing the goat, has, all unwittingly, stumbled upon the lair -of the lion, and, too terrified to flee, stands shivering before the -glaring eyeball of the tawny brute. - -“Thou small thing, I will not hurt thee; for, in the proud -consciousness of right, I could even pity thee. And, when again thou -liest among the slain at Megara, thy helmet cleft, the lance of the -enemy at thy throat, and thou with not strength enough to parry it, -then call for Pericles, and he will _again_ come to thy rescue. -Farewell, thou grateful child! thou faithful friend! thou manly enemy!” - - - - -ICILIUS - - -The intolerable oppression of the patricians, to which was now added -the tyranny of the Decemvirs, had excited a spirit of rancor in the -breasts of the Roman commons, which was gradually extending itself to -the entire army that now lay encamped in a strong position within sight -of the enemy. But so sullen was their temper that the generals feared -to lead them from their intrenchments, and the only barrier to open -mutiny seemed to be the absence of special provocation, or the lack of -a leader. - -Upon the slopes of Crustumeria hung the dark masses of the Roman -legions, while the watch-fires of their enemy, gleaming through heavy -masses of foliage, lit up the vales below. But the haughty joy with -which these stern warriors were wont to hail the hour of conflict no -longer thrilled the soldiers’ breasts. By the dim light of stars men -spake in whispers; and murmurs, waxing louder as the night wore on, -like the hollow moan of surf before the gathering tempest, rose on the -midnight air. - -Just as the red light, touching, tinged the mountain summits, a -warrior, clad in gory mantle from which the blood, slow dripping, had -stained his armor and clotted upon his horse’s mane, rode down the -sentry, and, bursting into the midst of the camp, shouted, “Soldiers, -protect a tribune of the people!” Those pregnant words, associated -with all of liberty the commons had ever known, were to the chafed -spirits of the soldiery as fire to flax. From every quarter of the camp -trumpets sounded to arms, the clash of steel mingled with the tramp of -hurrying feet, and, marshalled by self-elected commanders, the gleaming -cohorts closed around him. But when the helmet, lifted, revealed a -face of wondrous beauty, stained by the traces of recent grief, the -eyes flashing with the light of incipient madness, and they recognized -the features of that tribune most of all beloved by the people, tears -trembled on the cheeks of that stern soldiery, and, “Icilius!” ran in a -low wail through their ranks. - -“Comrades,” he cried, “you behold no more that young Icilius who, foot -to foot and shield to shield with you, has borne the brunt of many a -bloody day, and whose life was like a summer’s morning, rich with the -fragrance of the opening buds, while every morn gave promise of new -joys, and twilight hours were in their lingering glories dressed,--but -a man sore broken, made ruthless by oppression, and so beset with -horrors that this reeling brain, just tottering on the verge of -madness, is steadied only by the purpose of revenge. - -“Yesterday, Virginia, my betrothed, was by her father slain, to thwart -the lust of Appius Claudius, a guardian of the public virtue and a -ruler of the State. - -“As she crosses the forum, on her way to school, that she may take -leave of her mates, and invite them to her bridal, some ruffians set -on by Appius Claudius lay hold upon her, averring that she is not the -daughter of Virginius, but of a slave-woman, the property of Marcus, -his client. The matter is brought to public trial; Appius, failing -to attain in this manner the custody of her, that he may gratify -his evil passions, commands his soldiers to take her by force. Her -friends, apprehending no violence at a legal tribunal, are without -arms. Soldiers are tearing her from her father’s embrace, when the -stern parent, preferring death to dishonor, catches a knife from the -butcher’s stall, and, crying, ’Thus only can I restore thee untainted -to thine ancestors,’ stabs her to the heart. - -“The purple torrent gushing from her breast, she falls upon my -neck,--her arms embrace me,--her lips close pressed to mine, murmuring -in death my name, she dies. - -“In childhood we were lovers; from her father’s door to mine was -but a javelin’s cast. We sought the nests of birds,--played in the -brooks,--chased butterflies--we clapped our hands in childish wonder -when the great eagle from the Apennines plunged headlong to the vale, -or skimmed with level wing along the flood,--and I, adventurous boy, -risked life and limb upon the jutting crag, to pluck some wild flower -that her fancy pleased. - -“As generous wine by age becomes more potent, thus fared it with our -loves. For her I kept myself unstained, rushed to the battle’s front, -and honors gained, that I might lay them at her feet, and by her love -inspired, press on to worthier deeds. Like flowers whose kindred roots -intwine, whose perfume mingles on the morning air, did our affections -blend. ’Twas but three nights ago that we sat hand in hand beside the -Tiber, and listened to the song of nightingales among the elms. The -purple twilight quivering through the leaves streamed o’er her brow, -and bathed in heavenly hues her lovely form. - -“There we talked of our approaching nuptials. Love ripened into -rapture. I kissed her lips, and chid the slow-paced hours that kept -us from our bliss. The marriage day was fixed. With curtains richly -wrought, and coverings of finest linen, spun by her own hands and by -her maidens’, my mother had adorned the couch. - -“To that sweet home where I had hoped through happy years to cherish -her a wife, I bore her mangled corpse, gashed by her father’s hand. Her -blood bedewed the bed decked with those nuptial gifts. - -“To you, mates of my boyhood, brethren in battle tried, I stretch my -hands; not in the petty interest of private wrong, but in the sacred -right of Roman liberty, of virgin purity, sweet household joys, and -in the name of those whose fair forms mingle with your dreams, in the -fierce shock of battle nerve your arms, the fragrance of whose parting -kiss yet lingers on your lips. - -“The blood of age creeps slowly, and in its timid counsels interest and -fear bear sway. Shall youthful swords lie rusting in the scabbards, and -young men count the odds, when slaughtered beauty from its bloody grave -clamors for vengeance? - -“Behold this mantle, drenched in the blood of her whose fingers wove it -as a gift of love,--each precious drop a tongue to shame your lingering -courage. Led by the father with his bloody knife, your comrades thunder -at the gates of Rome, while you, unworthy sons of sires who banished -Tarquin and expelled the kings, sit here deliberating whether the -virgin’s sanctity, the wife’s fair virtue, and all that men and gods -hold sacred, are worth the striking for. Consume your youth in hunger, -cold, and vigils, with spoils of conquered realms to pamper tyrants, -till, waxing wanton on your bounty, they desolate your homes; and ye, -hedged in by mercenary spears, revile your misery.” - -His words were drowned in the clash of steel and the cries of -multitudes calling to arms. Tearing the bloody garments in pieces, -he flung them among the thronging battalions. “Be these your eagles. -Bind them to your helmets; and, in the spirit they inspire, strike down -the oppressor, that sweet Virginia’s unquiet ghost no more may wander -shrieking for vengeance on the midnight air, but to the silent shades -appeased return.” - - - - -DECIUS - - -Patriotism in the Roman breast was something more than principle; it -was a passion. The sacred fire, so far from being diminished by age, -waxed purer through the decay of the flesh, and, partaking of the -nature of a divine afflatus, expired only with life itself. After all -reasonable allowances made for the enchantment which distance flings -around the great of past ages, the instances of devotion to country, -scattered here and there through the pages of their history, fill us -with amazement. To extend its empire, contribute to its glory, repel -its enemies, no sacrifice was deemed too great. In common with other -ancient nations they believed that the blood of a human victim, smoking -upon the altar, was a sacrifice most acceptable to the gods, and in -great emergencies an argument of wondrous power. It was therefore -resorted to only when the fate of armies and nations hung trembling in -the balance. - -The victims chosen were often aged, useless, or prisoners taken in war; -but when a virgin in the purity of her innocence and the glory of her -expanding charms, or a man of noble birth in the prime of manly vigor, -with high hopes and great inducements to live, voluntarily devoted -themselves to die for the State, victory was considered no longer -doubtful. - -The Roman army being engaged in desperate conflict, and hard pressed -by a valiant foe, the left wing, under command of Decius, was forced -to retire; their general, determined to devote himself, arrayed in a -mantle broidered with purple, and standing with bare feet upon his -spear, cried: “Ye gods and heroes who rule over us and our enemies, -and ye infernal deities whose dwelling is in the shades beneath, I -invoke your presence. I entreat you to give victory to the Roman -armies, and strike their enemies with fear and death. I here devote -myself to mother earth and the shades of my ancestors in behalf of the -Roman republic, her legions and auxiliaries, and with myself I devote -the legions and auxiliaries of the enemy. For every drop of my blood -shed in holy sacrifice grant that theirs may flow in torrents; for my -single life, may they atone by thousands.” - -Putting on his armor and mounting his horse, he said: “It is well known -to you, my countrymen, that our fathers have taught us both by their -words and acts, that it is the duty of every citizen to devote himself -to the welfare of his country. They have taught us during peace to -cultivate the soil, to despise luxury and effeminate pursuits, and, by -begetting and educating children, to strengthen the State; in war by -valor to defend it; nor without sufficient reason to risk our lives, -the property of our country, bestowed by the gods. This I have ever -striven to do. I am indeed young to die; age hath not tamed my sinews, -nor misfortune broken my spirits, that I should be weary of life; -fortune thus far has been friendly to me, reasonable expectations have -been gratified, and efforts crowned with success. I might justly hope -for many years of usefulness to my country and honor to myself, but it -is now in my power, by devoting myself, to secure the interposition -of the gods in crowning with victory the banners of our country and -destroying its foes. - -“It would be a solace to me once more to embrace an affectionate wife -and dutiful children, to look again upon the trees I have planted and -watched in their growth till they have become a part of myself, and -upon the fields from which for so many years I have raised my bread -and that of my family. I should like to walk over them once more, -but I leave them with all my other affairs to the care of the State, -which I am assured I shall this day more benefit by death than by the -longest and most prosperous life. To you, Valerius, I commit the care -of interring my body, that, having received the sacred rites of burial, -I may enter those happy fields, where dwell the shades of heroes and my -warlike ancestors. I commission you to inform my wife of the manner of -my death, charging her to educate my sons in a manner worthy of their -father and their ancestors. - -“I pray you, my friends, look not so mournfully upon me, as though some -great misfortune were about to befall me; for, though I may no longer -lead you to battle, my shade will be present with you and nerve your -arms to strike for the safety and glory of the Republic. The spirits -of our ancestors hover around us; I behold their shadowy forms. The -immortal gods are present for our aid. Jove thunders from the sky and -Apollo bends the bow.” - -Followed by the frantic legions assured of victory, he rushed into the -midst of the foe; they fled in terror before the terrible warrior armed -with supernatural terrors and seeking only death. The contest ended, -the victorious Romans drew the body of their general from beneath a -heap of slain, contemplating with emotions of mingled pride and sorrow -the wounds which had let out a spirit so noble. They cleansed that -beloved form from the stains of battle, arrayed it in gorgeous robes -perfumed with fragrant odors, and reverend senators bore it to the -grave. - - - - -LEONIDAS - - -It was on the morn of the 7th of August, 480 B.C., that Leonidas, -with three hundred kindred spirits, performed the deed that shall be -transmitted from father to son, through the generations of men, while -human hearts shall throb with the love of country and of the domestic -hearth. Four days had the haughty invader lingered at the mountain -pass to afford this desperate band time to reconsider their act and -disperse. Summoned to lay down their arms, they replied, “Come and -take them.” Vainly had he poured his thousands upon this devoted band -till the defile was choked with Persian dead. At length the tidings -came that ten thousand men guided by a traitor were threading the goat -paths to attack their rear. With ample opportunity to retreat, in -obedience to the laws of their country, which forbade its soldiers to -retreat from the foe, the Spartans, dismissing their allies, remained -to face the storm. Never before or since has law been thus voluntarily -baptized in blood, or the sun looked down upon a scene like that. - -On one side in solitary grandeur tower the massive cliffs of Œta, -wreathed with the white foam of torrents, and shaggy with forests -bathed in dew; before stretches the narrow path leading to a plain, -where lie the hosts of Xerxes, two million men; and on the other, the -sea. - -In these rude ages of brawl and battle his life and liberty alone -were safe whose hand could help his head; thus also in respect to -communities, the nation unable to defend itself found no allies; to -be weak was to be miserable. The institutions of Lycurgus aimed to -produce the greatest physical strength, contempt of pain and death, and -to inspire an absorbing love of country. They decreed that all puny -and imperfect children should be put to death, thus leaving to grow up -only the strongest of the race. All labor was performed by slaves, that -the citizens might be left at leisure for the study and practice of -arms. The fatigues of their daily life were greater than those of the -camp, and to the Spartan alone war afforded a relaxation. Their cities -disdained the protection of walls, while they boasted that the women -had never seen the smoke of an enemy’s camp. From the breast they were -taught that glory and happiness consisted in love for their country -and obedience to its laws. They were early accustomed to cold, hunger, -and scourgings, in order to teach them endurance and contempt of pain. -No tender parent wrought with saddened brow their battle robes, or -buckled on with tears their armor; but the Spartan mother’s farewell to -her son was, “Bring back thy shield or be borne upon it.” Trained in -the contests of the gymnasium and the free life of the hunter and the -warrior, accustomed from childhood to the weight of harness graduated -to their growing strength, their armor grew to their limbs, and was -worn with a grace and their weapons wielded with a skill that was -instinctive. - -Such were the stern brotherhood, chosen from a thousand Spartans, all -the fathers of living sons, that others might be left to fill their -places, inherit their spirit, and follow their example. In those forms -so replete with manly beauty dwelt a spirit more noble still, which, -preferring the toils of liberty to the ease of servitude, caught from -those frowning precipices and that matchless sky, ever flinging its -shadow over sea and shore, a love for the soil enduring as life itself. - -As the sun arose they bathed their bodies in water, anointed themselves -with oil, and arranged their hair as for a banquet. “Let us,” said -Leonidas, “breakfast heartily, for we shall all sup with Pluto -to-night.” - -“Comrades,” cried the heroic king, as the serried ranks gathered around -him, “those whose laws do not forbid them to retreat from the foe have -left us. I welcome you to death; had not treachery done its work, three -hundred Spartans would have still held at bay two million slaves. Deem -not because we, trained in all feats of arms, in the full strength of -manhood, perish nor hold the pass, our country’s gate, we therefore die -for naught. This day shall we do more for Sparta than could the longest -life consumed in war or councils of the State. As trees that fall in -lonely forests die but to live again, and with other trees incorporate, -lift their proud tops to heaven, wave in the breeze, and fling their -shadows over the murmuring streams, thus shall our blood, which ere -high noon shall smoke upon these rocks and stain these fretting waves, -beget defenders for the soil it consecrates. To-day you fight the -battles of a thousand years and teach this vaunting foe that bodies -are not men, that freedom’s laws are mightier than the knotted scourge -or chains by despots forged. The savor of this holocaust, borne by the -winds and journeying on the waves, shall nerve the patriot’s arm, while -Pinda rears its awful front, and from its sacred caves the streams -descend. Inspired by this your act, henceforth five hundred Spartan -men shall count a thousand. Our countrymen with envy shall view the -gaping wounds through which the hero’s soul flees to the silent shades, -and mourn they were not privileged with us to die. Our children shall -tread with prouder step their native hills, while men exclaim each to -the other, ’Behold the sons of sires who slumber at Thermopylæ.’ These -battered arms, gathered with jealous care, shall hallow every home; our -little ones with awful reverence shall point to the shivered sword, the -war-scarred shield, the bloody vesture or the helmet cleft, and say, -’My father bore these arms at old Thermopylæ.’ With noble ardor shall -they yearn for the day when their young arms shall bear ancestral -shields, the spear sustain, and, like their sires, strike home on -bloody fields for liberty and law.” - -Their courage needed to be attempered, not aroused by the clangor -of trumpets, the stormy roll of drums, and the frantic shout of -multitudes. To the sound of softest music, and decked with flowers as -for a bridal, they marched upon their foe. - -Now flute notes and the sweet music of the Spartan lyre floated upon -the breath of morn as they encountered the foe. Persian arrows and -javelins darkened the air, and discordant yells rose up to heaven, but -before that terrible phalanx the multitudes went down like grass before -the scythe of the mower. Their spears gave no second thrust, their -swords no second blow; assailed at length by millions in front and -rear, they were slain and not subdued. Yet does their influence live -in all literature and all lands. To-day they teach the age that there -are nobler employments for man than the acquisition of riches or the -pursuit of pleasure. The patriot scholar goes from the contemplation -of the relics of Roman and Grecian art, to pay a deeper devotion at -their grass-grown sepulchre; listens to the dash of waves, breaking as -they broke upon the ear of Leonidas and his heroes, when, on that proud -morning, they marched forth to die; reads with awe that sublime epitaph -and passes on a better patriot and a better man. - - - - -THE CENTURION - - -The Roman Senate, in high conclave assembled, deliberated respecting -the raising of fresh levies of men and arms. Powerful and vindictive -foes, with difficulty held at bay, were gathering for attack, while the -commons were ripe for revolt. Meanwhile, a turbulent crowd thronged -the forum, surging to and fro like forests tossed by conflicting -winds. Exasperated by oppression, beggared by usury, they recounted -their causes of discontent, and thus fanned the smouldering flame in -each other’s breast. It was from their households the conscription now -pending was to be made; their blood was to stain the fields of battle, -and victory, bringing but empty honors, would leave them more under the -power of their masters than before. To increase the confusion, some -Latin horsemen came full speed to the city, announcing that the Volsci -were on their march to attack it; upon which the people set up a shout -of joy, willing to perish if so be their oppressors might perish with -them. - -Cries of agony now arose above the tumult, and an old man pursued by -creditors ran into the midst imploring aid; but his pursuers catching -hold of the chain which was fastened to his right foot, he fell upon -his face, while the blood gushed from his nostrils. He had just escaped -from the dungeon of a creditor; his clothes were in tatters; his body -emaciated by hunger; while his face, hideous with matted hair and -beard, resembled more that of a beast than of a man. Some soldiers at -length recalled the face of a centurion under whom they had served, -famed for military skill, and distinguished by honors received as the -reward of valor in the field. It needed but this spark to ignite a -train already prepared for explosion. With a roar, like that of surges -upon a winter’s beach, they trampled his pursuers beneath their feet, -bidding him without fear to tell his tale, for they would protect him -though it were necessary to fling both senate and consuls into the -Tiber. And now to that fearful uproar succeeded a silence like that -of the sepulchre, permitting the feeble tones of the miserable man to -reach every ear and touch every heart in that vast assembly, as thus -he spake:-- - -“Ten years ago, my countrymen, I was the owner of a little farm, the -fruit of my labor and that of my ancestors. It lay along the base of -hills around whose roots wound a brook which, watering my fields, ran -into the Tiber; on its banks grew the elms that sustained our vines; -the hills were clothed with chestnut and olives, and there also was the -pasture of my flocks. In the sheltered vale beneath, the almond mingled -with the fig, the flax spread its azure flowers to the sun, apples bent -the laden boughs, and grain rewarded the toil of the reaper. How dear -to me was that humble cot with its straw-thatched roof from which the -swallows sprang to greet the breaking day; where the stock-dove hung -its nest in the beechen shade, and morning breezes brought perfume to -its threshold. How sweet, when the weary bullocks were released from -the yoke, to lie among the lengthening shadows and listen to the dying -breeze steal through the soft acanthus leaves in wild, low music. Our -wants were few and easily satisfied; my wife ground the corn, her hands -spun and wove our clothing, my children were dutiful; we led a frugal, -happy life, revering the immortal gods and cherishing the virtues of -our fathers. These few acres, valued as the fruit of my own labor, the -gift of my ancestors, consecrated by their toil and pregnant with their -ashes, were to me inexpressibly dear. I, indeed, was most of the time -in arms for my country, yet often in the midnight watches of the camp -did memory picture those sunny fields, my family thinking and talking -of the absent soldier; nor did I forget to thank the immortal gods, -that, should my country require my life, my family possessed a heritage -and a home. The sun was declining as I neared my native vale on my -return from the Sabine war. Eagerly I pressed to the brow of the hill -that I might look down upon that dear cot. It was a heap of ashes; the -storm of war had swept over those pleasant fields; fire had consumed -the standing corn; the cattle were driven off, and the beauty of the -groves had departed. As nearer I drew, I descried the body of my wife -and first-born lying dead at the threshold; the rest had fled, not a -living thing, even a dog, was left to welcome me; and the tired soldier -had not where to lay his head. - -“To war succeeded famine, hostilities continued, taxes increased, the -land lay untilled. I was compelled to borrow money at exorbitant usury; -that loved heritage passed into the hands of strangers. The golden -crown and silver chain, bestowed for being the first to enter the -enemy’s camp, went next; they are in the coffers of a man who never saw -the color of a foeman’s eye nor drew his sword in the State’s behalf. -All this not sufficing, my creditor immured me in a foul dungeon -beneath his palace; with fifteen pounds of iron, the utmost the law -permits, was I loaded; a pound of corn and water was my daily food, and -I, a Roman citizen and a centurion, was scourged like a dog. Had I not -broken my chain and flung myself upon you for protection, this war-worn -body would have been cut in pieces and apportioned among my creditors. - -“Comrades on many a bloody field, behold this arm,--which in -twenty-eight battles has fought for the liberty of Rome till the hand -clave to the sword hilt,--worn by cruel fetters to the bone; this body, -seamed with honorable scars, dripping blood from the knotted scourge. -Milder tortures would have been reserved for me had I been the betrayer -instead of the defender of my country. The laws which consume the -poor man’s substance and drain his blood are by usurers enacted, by -them are executed. Usurers rob the public chest and parcel out the -conquered lands among themselves. Let us, rather than longer submit to -such extortion, fling wide the gates to the approaching enemy, leave -them to exercise their wisdom in making laws where there are none to -govern, levying taxes where there are none to pay, and displaying their -valor where there is nought to defend. By the ashes of that ruined -home, those loved forms mangled by the Sabine sword and devoured by the -vultures of the Apennines, by the sufferings of my remaining children -whose young lives are consumed by the tortures from which I have fled, -by him who on Olympus holds his awful seat and shakes the nations with -his nod, I conjure you to assert the rights of the people and the -ancient liberties of Rome.” - - - - -VIRGINIUS TO THE ROMAN ARMY - - -The night wind blew in fitful gusts, with occasional dashes of rain, -where, grouped around their watch-fires, and sheltered by the dense -foliage of a beechen grove, a Roman cohort held its leaguer. Some, -their spears thrust into the ground beside them, sat upright against -the trees; while others lay at full length, with their heads resting -upon their shields. - -As the flames threw their red light upon the war-scarred faces of the -veterans, they revealed only sullen features. No song nor jest was -heard,--no sound, save the low hiss of the raindrops on the embers, the -bay of a wolf in the distant forest, and the low muttered words of a -soldier who was telling to his comrade how that, the night before, as -the sun fell over the hills, a centurion rode past his beat full speed -to Rome, summoned there by some new outrage of the Patricians. - -All that night, throughout the host, mysterious forebodings crept. -Men around their watch-fires spake in low whispers; and many a silent -grasp of the hand passed from man to man. As the night wore away, and -the day dawned, Virginius, upon a foaming steed, his head bare, and in -his right hand a bloody knife, dashed past the guard to where--beneath -an oak which, withered and scorched by sacrificial fires, flung no -shadow--great Jove was worshipped. - -Mounting the altar-steps, he turned, and, with bloodshot eyes, glared -upon the soldiers who thronged tumultuously around him. Holding aloft -the bloody knife, he exclaimed, “With this weapon I have slain my only -child, to preserve her from dishonor!” Yells of horror and bitter -execrations rose from the whole army; and a thousand swords flashed in -the sun’s bright beams. - -“Soldiers!” he cried, “I am like this blasted tree. Two years ago -the Ides of May three lusty sons went with me to the field. In one -disastrous fight they perished. A daughter, beautiful as the day, yet -remained; ’tis but a week ago you saw her here, bearing to her old sire -home comforts prepared by her own hands, and sharing with him the -evening meal, and you blessed her as you passed. - -“You’ll never see her more, who weekly came, with the soft music of her -voice, and spells of home, to cheer our hearts. As on her way to school -she crossed the Forum, Appius Claudius, through his minion Marcus, -claimed her as a slave. With desperate haste I rode to Rome. Holding my -daughter by the hand, and by my side her uncle, her aged grandsire, and -Icilius her betrothed, I claimed my child. - -“The judge, that he may gain his end, decides that in his house and -custody she must remain, till I, by legal process, prove my right! The -guards approach. Trembling, she clings around my neck,--her hot tears -on my cheek. Snatching this knife from a butcher’s stall, I plunged it -in her breast, that her pure soul might go free and unstained to her -mother and her ancestors. - -“And this is the reward a grateful country gives her soldiery! Cursed -be the day my mother bore me! Accursed my sire’s untimely joy! Accursed -the twilight hour, when ’mid Etruscan groves I wooed and won Acestes’ -beauteous child, while youth’s bright dreams were busy at my heart! - -“Soldiers! the deadliest foes of our liberties are behind, not before -us; they are not the Æqui, the Volsci, and the Sabines, who meet us -in fair fight; but that pampered aristocracy, who chain you by the -death-penalty to the camp, that in your absence they may work their -will upon those you leave behind. - -“But why do I seek to kindle a fire in ice? Why seek to arouse the -vengeance of those who care for no miseries but their own, and are -enamoured of their fetters? I, indeed, can lose no more. Misfortune -hath emptied her quiver,--she hath no other shaft for this bleeding -breast; but flatter not yourselves that the lust of Appius Claudius has -expired with the defeat of his purpose. - -“Your homes, likewise, invite the destroyer; into your fold the grim -wolf will leap; among the lambs of your flock will he revel, his jaws -dripping blood. For you, also, the bow is bent; the arrow drawn to the -head; and the string impatient of its charge. By all that I have lost, -and that you imperil by delay, avenge this accursed wrong! - -“If you have arms, use them; liberties, vindicate them; patriotism, -save the tottering State; natural affection, protect the domestic -hearth; piety, appease the wrath of the gods by avenging the blood -that cries to heaven. To arms! To arms! or your swords will leap from -their scabbards, the trumpets sound the onset, and the standards of -_themselves_ advance to rebuke your delay!” - - - - -GENERAL GAGE AND THE BOSTON BOYS - - -The year seventeen hundred and seventy-five dawned gloomily upon the -inhabitants of Massachusetts Bay. Portentous clouds darkened the -political horizon, while clear-sighted and forecasting men prepared -themselves for a struggle they saw to be inevitable. The attempt to -crush by force of arms the spirit of liberty in the colonies had -already commenced. A hostile fleet, with guns double-shotted and -trained upon the town, lay at anchor in Boston Harbor. The town was -under martial law, the hills bristled with cannon, sentinels challenged -the citizen going to his daily vocations, and the common was a camp. - -On the wharves of this busy emporium of colonial trade that had been -wont to send its thousand vessels each year to foreign and domestic -ports, the sailor’s song was hushed, warehouses were closed, and no -canvas fluttered to the breeze. But few shops, and those only which -dealt in the necessaries of life, were opened, and the hammer of the -artisan lay rusting on the anvil. In many streets the snow lying white -and undisturbed before the doors of hospitable dwellings evinced that -their occupants had fled from a tyranny they were unable to resist. -Beneath this grinding oppression, so intolerable to the spirit of a -free people, no weak complaints were uttered nor sounds of riot heard. -The citizen pursuing his business brushed the sentinel with a calm brow -and sealed lips, and the children went to and fro to their schools and -plays. - -When soldiers barracked and horses were stabled in their churches, -when bayonets gleamed in their halls of legislation, they lifted -up the voice to God in other places and the town meeting was held -as heretofore. For the first time in the history of peoples, the -flocks sported in the pasture or slept in the fold unconscious of the -butcher’s knife; the inhabitants of Massachusetts had resolved to eat -no mutton, that their resources might be increased. On the roofs of -sheds and porticoes wool and flax were bleaching; from hundreds of -dwellings were heard the hum of the wheel and the stroke of the loom, -where the mothers of heroes were preparing their children for the -forum or the field. Balls were run and cartridges made by the hands -of women and children at the kitchen fire, and, deftly concealed in -loads of offal, passed unchallenged the sentries to hiding-places in -the neighboring towns. Men who pursued their usual labors during the -day met at midnight in garrets and cellars, and after swearing upon the -Scriptures to keep secret the purpose of the meeting, consulted and -prayed together, enduring meanwhile as best they might the insults of -the soldiery. - -It was Wednesday afternoon and half-holiday. General Gage, commander of -troops that held watch and ward over the rebels in Massachusetts Bay -and the town of Boston in particular, was sitting in his quarters at -the Province House. The general’s brow was clouded and he was evidently -a prey to uneasy thoughts; the intelligent perversity of his opponents -both perplexed and alarmed him. He liked not the unwonted calm, the -utter absence of bluster and bravado, for he knew too well the -temper of the people with whom he had to deal to mistake silence for -submission. He had fought with Washington at Duquesne, aided to bear -the dying Braddock from the field, and feared that the rifles that then -saved the British army from utter destruction were only biding their -time, and the drums that beat at Louisburg might at any moment wake the -slumbering fires and the mine explode beneath his feet. - -While thus uneasily balancing probabilities, his servant announced that -some boys requested an interview. The general, who was exceedingly fond -of children, ordered them to be admitted. - -“Well, boys,” he inquired, “what is your business with me?” - -“We have come, sir,” said the tallest boy, “to demand satisfaction.” - -“What, have your fathers been teaching you rebellion and sent you to -show it here?” - -“No, sir, nobody sent us and nobody told us to come, but we’ve come -of our own accord for our rights. The common belongs to the people of -Boston and their children. We are town born, all of us, and so are -the boys whom we represent, therefore we have a right to play on the -common. We have asked many old people, and they tell us that boys -always have had this right, that they played there and their fathers -before them. We have never made faces at your soldiers, called them -lobsters, thrown snowballs at them, or insulted them in any manner, but -while we were minding our business, skating and building snow hills, -just as we have always done every winter before even they were here, -they came and trampled down our sliding hills, and broke the ice on -our skating ground with the breech of their musket. We complained; -they called us young rebels and told us to help ourselves if we could. -We then went to the captain, and he laughed at us. We have come, sir, -for our rights. We want only the rights which the law gives us and -boys have always had. Yesterday your soldiers destroyed our works -for the third time, and we won’t endure this oppression any longer. -Your soldiers may shoot us if they wish, but if you will not give us -satisfaction, we will get together all the boys and defend our works -while there is a snowball, a stone, or a boy left in the town of -Boston; for if we can’t play on our own common and skate on our own -pond, what can we do?” - -The general could not but admire the resolution of the boys and assured -them that henceforth their rights should be respected. - - - - -THE WRECKED PIRATE - - -In the year 1813 a piratical schooner was wrecked upon one of the -desolate Keys of the Bahamas. The captain alone, of a crew of ninety -men, reached shore upon a broken spar. For several months he subsisted -upon shell-fish and tropical fruits, with which the island abounded, -eked out by some provisions saved from the wreck. - -While in this solitude, feelings which had long slumbered were awakened -in his breast, and his heart was melted to repentance. - -After long months of waiting, he was rescued by a passing vessel bound -for Spain. A pardon was at length obtained for him from the Spanish -government, and he ever after lived a Christian life. But what thus -wrought upon the heart of the savage, hardened in crime and blood? -“Fear,” I hear you exclaim, “heightened by that terrible solitude; -death groans and piteous entreaties for mercy that haunted each lonely -ravine, and moaned in the winds of midnight!” Oh, no; it was but the -evening song of the turtle-doves which built their nests among the -mangrove bushes that fringed the borders of the creeks. - -Behold him as he stands! that man of brawl and battle, his stern -features unmoved as the cliffs beside him, gazing upon the bodies of -the companions of many a bloody fray, tossed amid the fragments of -broken timbers in the surf at his feet. What a mingling of the elements -of agony and fear!--the abyss of ocean, the lonely wreck, the livid -bodies of the dead, the desolate shore, himself cut off from all human -fellowship, a stinging conscience within, and the eternal God above -him, whose lightnings play around his head. All these move him not. But -hark! As those bird-notes, so sweetly mournful, strike upon his ear, -familiar through many an hour of careless boyhood in his early home, -the blood flushes to his cheek and lip; the sweat bedews his brow. -Those soft notes recall days of innocence, ere blood had stained his -hand, and remorse was gnawing at his heartstrings. The low notes of a -mother’s prayer thrill, like some forgotten melody, upon his ear. Again -her lips are pressed to his as when she kissed him for the last time, -upon his father’s threshold. Tears are streaming down those cheeks, -bronzed by burning suns and furrowed by seafoam and tempest; and -that voice, whose stern tones had risen above the roar of battle and -roused the seaman from his slumbers like the trump of doom, grows all -tremulous with emotion as he cries, “God, be merciful to me a sinner.” - - - - -SPEECHES - - -“AN OUNCE OF PREVENTION” - -[Delivered at a meeting of the Temperance Society in Boston in 1861] - - -Were I called upon, Mr. Chairman, to define intemperance by its -effects, I would say: “It is that which covers the fields of the -husbandman with tares and thorns, and strews the ocean with wrecks. -It is that which renders the clerk unfaithful to his employer, the -public man to his constituents, the magistrate to his oath of office, -the parent to his family, and all who are trusted to every trust. It -is that which stirs to mutiny every corrupt passion, weakens every -motive to virtue, adds strength to vicious allurements, and pushes -the reluctant will over the verge of every damnable and desperate -enterprise. So well is this understood by the doers of evil that it is -in the armies of evil the regular weapon whose value is unquestioned -after the experience of ages. Is a seaman to be enticed to desert -his ship or a soldier his colors? Ply him with liquor. Is a ruffian -steeped in crime to be urged to some deed of horror from which even -his hardened nature revolts? Ply him with liquor. Is a young man with -his curiosity awake, his passions pure and jubilant, and his heart -throbbing with warm impulses of budding life to be put upon that same -descending grade opening to a like abyss of utter loathsomeness, his -fair face to be rendered shameless, and his lips to reek of the pit? -Then go, thou familiar spirit, whose abode is in the sparkling cup, -assume the form of beauty and youth, show him not at once thy craven -features, but while his arm is linked in thine, accustom him by slow -gradations to the festive and genial cup.” - -The ways and methods of doing good are not intuitive. They are, as in -the arts and crafts, the result of effort and experience. Good men by -long practice into which they have flung their very hearts have learned -more and more effective methods of grappling with intemperance. At -first they began with cure; now they try prevention, not forgetting the -other. Once they went alongside the old hulk stranded on the beach, -her masts gone by the board, her rigging white and weather-worn -hanging over her bulwarks, ochre hanging from her opening seams, and -refitting and relaunching her, they obtained from the stranded hulk a -few years of inferior service. Now they buoy the channel and light the -beacon, and thus prevent the shipwreck. Noble men went to the inebriate -crawling in the gutter; with kindly sympathy they raised him up and -restored him to usefulness and power. But who, save the inebriate -himself, can tell the bitterness of that struggle between the man, the -husband, the father, struggling to rise, and the demon that strives -to drag him back? How true it is that that accursed longing never -dies! How true it is that we need never learn to drink but once! What -temperance reformer is there who has not shed bitter tears over the -final wreck of those whom he thought he had saved? - -Thus noble efforts were made, multitudes partially, and many really -reformed, but all the time behind there was a thronging army of young -men treading the same paths. But, taught by experience, men have now -begun to grapple with this evil on its strongest ground; that is, in -its social aspect, that which is most alluring to the romantic and the -young. - -I may safely say that from the beginning of social life the great mass -of the literature, genius, and wealth of the world has been, and is -now, on the side of intemperance. The greatest poets that ever lived -have sung in strains of beauty that captivated the young heart the -praises of the ruby wine. It has for ages been interwoven with all -festivals,--the meeting and parting of social life. It is this more -than the love of liquor that attracts. In this view wine becomes the -exponent of all that is genial and warm; temperance of all that is -cold, forbidding, and repulsive. It is for just this purpose and to -meet the enemy at just this point that associations like this have been -formed. They seek to show that the flowing bowl is not of necessity -the quickener of the intellect, or of all ardent and generous feeling; -that it is not the only elixir for the heavy heart. They would show -that there are other pleasures as exhilarating as those of the wine -cup--pleasures that leave no sting behind. They would show that men -can be earnest scholars, sympathetic friends, jovial companions, and -at the same time taste not, touch not, and handle not the wine cup, -or be under any obligations to alcohol for their enjoyment. May this -association in the heart of this great city accomplish its purpose, and -be the young man’s friend. - - - - -RELIGIOUS WORSHIP EARLY IN THE CENTURY - -[Delivered at the Municipal Celebration of the one hundredth -anniversary of the incorporation of the town of Portland, Maine, -Sunday, July 4, 1886.] - - -MR. CHAIRMAN: Having been requested to offer some remarks in respect -to the conduct of religious worship early in the century, I would say -that early impressions are the most enduring, and religious impressions -more so than all others, resulting from the fact that they are not -so much impressions as the development of innate tendencies kept -alive and nourished by the intercourse that all men, to a greater or -less extent, hold with their Creator. There are none that so resent -interference or are with such difficulty eradicated. Though by no means -one of the good boys who die young, and with little inclination to -acquire knowledge by books or by dint of study, there were two subjects -that always possessed for me a peculiar interest and attraction-- -one the employment by which men obtained their bread, and the other -the discussion of religious doctrines, though utterly averse to any -personal application of them. I recollect that when I had twenty-five -cents given me by my father to go to Sukey Baker’s tavern to see an -elephant, a rare sight in those days, I sat as demure as a mouse in -my father’s study the greater part of an afternoon listening to a -discussion between him and a Hopkinsonian minister upon disinterested -benevolence, which was brought at last to an abrupt termination -in consequence of the use by the Hopkinsonian of the following -illustration: “Suppose, Brother Kellogg, I was walking over a bridge -with two ladies, to one of whom I was tenderly attached and engaged -to be married, the other an indifferent person. My particular friend, -I am aware, is a person of ordinary ability, but the other lady is -possessed of great mental powers thoroughly disciplined, and both of -them are in a state of grace. The bridge breaks through and we fall -into the stream. I can save but one of them, and in that case it would -be my duty, even if I had to leave my personal friend to perish, to -save the more gifted person, because she is able and qualified to do -more for the glory of God.” My father ended the discussion by rising -and declaring that a man who could cherish, much more propagate, such -abominable sentiments was not fit to preach the Gospel nor even to -live in a Christian society. The discussion and ways of ministers, -their preaching and modes of conducting worship at that period are as -vivid in my recollection to-day as then, and I purpose to turn this to -account in complying with your request. - -Religious worship at that time, though modified, still retained much -of the ancient spirit and something of the form. My father and the -ministers of his age formed the connecting link between the old and -the new. Many of the old ministers, who were settled for life, and -wore old ministerial wigs, cocked hats, small clothes, and bands, were -still preaching, and frequently exchanged with my father,--Father -Lancaster of Scarborough, Mr. Tilton and Mr. Eaton of Harpswell. Father -Lancaster would sometimes fall asleep in the pulpit while the choir -were singing the hymn before the sermon, for he was well-stricken with -years. Ministers of a later date wore a queue and powdered their hair. -My father in younger life wore his hair long, and it curled down his -back and was powdered. He also retained the bands for a neck dress. -I can just recollect when he exchanged breeches for loose pants. The -old people, who were opposed to the innovation, called them sailor -trousers, and said they did not become a servant of God, were got -up to conceal spindle shanks, and the deacons of the First Parish -and some others retained them. The sermons and prayers were somewhat -curtailed, even by the old ministers, but were still of sufficient -length. The hour-glass was no longer seen on the pulpit, but was still -used in families, schools, and by the toll-keeper at Vaughan’s bridge. -The deacons in the First Parish still sat before the pulpit, but the -practice of deaconing the hymns was given up. Intentions of marriage -were no longer cried in the church with the addition that if any -person could show cause why they should not be carried into effect, to -make it known, or else forever to hold their peace; but publishments -were posted in the porch of the meeting-house for all to read. Much -importance was attached to the singing, and it was always performed by -a full choir, as loud noise was by our forefathers deemed essential in -public worship. At first there was no instrument except the bass viol. -The chorister, conscious of the dignity of his office, would rise with -a solemn air, run up the scale, beating time with his hand, and lift -the tune. My father, who had been drum-major in the Continental army, -and was extremely fond of instrumental music, introduced the cornet and -clarinet, in addition to the bass viol, into the Second Parish choir. -He likewise persuaded Mr. Edward Howe, of Groton, Massachusetts, to -come and set up business in Portland on account of his musical talent, -and assisted him all he could, and Mr. Howe led the choir of the -Second Parish for years, keeping up with the progress of the times. -Difficulties with church choirs were as prevalent then as now. At -one time the first hymn was read, but there was no response from the -choir. My father, who was a good singer, immediately read the hymn, -“Let those refuse to sing who never knew our God,” and led off himself, -and the congregation joined in. When the next hymn was read, the choir -concluded to sing. - -There was no fire in the meeting-houses. The women carried foot-stoves -that contained an iron dish filled with hot coals. The sexton was -bound by written contract to keep a good rock-maple wood fire on the -Sabbath in order that the people might have good coals with which -to fill their foot-stoves in the morning and replenish them between -meetings. Children suffered the most from cold feet, and would often -cry with cold. I used to run my legs to the knees into my mother’s muff -and get my feet on her foot-stove and long for services to be done. My -father used to say that when he could hear people all over the house -striking their feet together to quicken the circulation, he felt it was -time to stop preaching, and indeed he seldom preached more than forty -minutes, and often less. But many of the old ministers who exchanged -with him had a method of dividing their sermons that to a boy with -cold feet was extremely tantalizing. They would have six, eight, and -often ten heads of discourse after which came “the improvement,” the -most excruciating of all. After a long time occupied in the application -of what had preceded, the minister would say “lastly.” Then all the -younger portion of the audience would prick up their ears and handle -their mittens in expectation of the close, but after this would come -“finally,” and on the heels of “finally” “to conclude,” and after -“conclude,” “in short.” There were few Sabbath-schools; religious -instruction was in former days given to the children by means of the -Westminster Catechism that was taught to children by their parents; and -at stated times in the year the ministers were accustomed to assemble -all the children of the parish and catechise them. Parents who were not -religious, equally with others, taught their children the catechism -that they might be able to answer the questions of the ministers and -appear as well as their companions. This method of instruction had -fallen in a measure into disuse, and though Sabbath-schools had been -substituted to take its place, they were not cherished or conducted as -at present. No pains were taken to render them attractive. Some parents -held on to both methods of religious instruction upon the principle -that there never could be too much of a good thing. The schools had -little hold upon the hearts of the ministers of the church and were -generally taught outside. The first Sabbath-school I attended was -held in a schoolhouse that stood on the northeastern side of State -Street. The late Mr. Cahoon was my teacher. The New Testament was the -text-book. Children committed hymns but took no part in the singing. - -There was a vein of austerity running through the relations that -existed between parents and children. They were neither fondled nor -pampered, but taught self-denial, to obey their parents, and reverence -old age. In many families the children ate at a side table, as they -were not supposed to be fitted by age or development to associate with -their elders. - -In the province of labor there was no special adaptation of the -implements of labor to the physical strength of children, nor in -matters of education any adaptation of studies or methods of teaching -to their mental wants as at present, but children and youths used to a -large extent the tools and books of their elders or waited till they -grew up to them. Thus, in matters of religion, immediate effect was not -expected either in relation to children or adults. It was not expected -that a person would be converted till he was married and settled in -life. - -The question will naturally arise in the minds of many, what was the -result of such a mode and spirit of worship as to the promotion of -vital godliness and the conversion of souls. I reply, there was but -little fruit. The preaching was mostly argumentative and controversial -or political--the conic sections of godliness. Ministers seemed to feel -that their responsibility ended when they had faithfully preached the -truth and kept back nothing, and church members, when they attended the -ordinances and kept the faith. - -The first great change for the better in this state of affairs was -caused by the embargo, which crushed for a season and well-nigh -exterminated the business interests of Portland. It brought those who -had become giddy with more than twenty years of unexampled prosperity -to reflection. In proportion as their prospects in this life were -blighted, they directed their attention to the attainment of more -durable riches. The ministers of the gospel of all denominations took -advantage of the changed condition of thought, and there was a great -revival of religious interest throughout New England. Edward Payson, -who was then in the prime of life and a colleague with my father, -exerted himself to an extent that consigned him to an early grave, and -there was during his ministry a constant revival. Instead of fate, -free-will, foreknowledge, absolute free-will, etc., people began to -hear of Christ and Him crucified, the still small voice of the Spirit, -and the danger of delay. The eyes of men, stirred to a new life, were -now opened to perceive the great obstacles to the progress of religion -and morality. - -The drinking customs of the day which had now reached a fearful extent, -and African slavery and the discussions concerning it, caused a shaking -of the dry bones seldom equalled; for conscience, self-interest, and -the law of God were pitted against each other. The main shaft that -carried the wheels of business in Portland was the lumber trade, which -consisted in transporting lumber to the West Indies and bartering it -for molasses, a large portion of which was made into rum that went all -over the country. There was new rum for poor people, and West India -rum for those in better circumstances. I have seen my mother, as often -as Parson Lancaster exchanged with my father, mix Holland gin and loaf -sugar and warm it for him before he went into the pulpit and after he -came out. I once went with my father to a funeral in Beaver (now Brown) -Street, and a decanter of liquor and glasses were set on the coffin. -At eleven o’clock on each day the bell would ring, the masons come down -from the ladders, the joiners drop their tools, and all would partake -of rum, salt-fish, and crackers. This great obstacle, in a measure -taken out of the way, led to the development of a spirit of Christian -enterprise which I leave to abler tongues and pens to describe. - - - - -AT BOWDOIN COMMENCEMENT, JUNE 25, 1890 - - -[Among papers especially treasured by Mr. Kellogg was found the -following letter:-- - - BRUNSWICK, MAINE, May 22, 1890. - - “DEAR MR. KELLOGG: The coming Commencement will be the fiftieth - anniversary of your graduation. It is our custom to call first - on a representative of the class of fifty years ago; and as goes - his speech, so goes the dinner. Now you are not only the natural - representative of the class of fifty years ago, but one of the most - widely known and universally beloved of all the graduates of our whole - hundred years. So we shall look to you for the response from the Class - of ’40. You must not fail us. If you do not report yourself present - at the formation of the procession in the morning, we shall send a - sheriff and posse after you. The Congressmen will not be here this - year. The success of the dinner depends on your coming, and giving us - such a send-off as you only can give to a crowd of Bowdoin College - boys. It will be a sad day for Bowdoin College if there shall ever be - a generation of students who know not Elijah Kellogg. - “Faithfully yours, - - “WILLIAM DEW. HYDE.”] - -MR. PRESIDENT, GENTLEMEN, MEMBERS OF THE ALUMNI, AND CLASSMATES: -It is fifty years this autumn since I presented myself, a sedate -and diffident youth, between the two maple trees that relieved -the monotony of this then arid and barren college yard, and, like -friendship and misfortune, flung their shadows over the steps of -Massachusetts Hall, and sued for admittance to Bowdoin College. With -that humility which was an inherent attribute of youth in that bygone -day, I requested an inhabitant of this village to point out to me the -president of the college, and I gazed upon the great man with that -anxiety and solicitude, inspired by the belief that my fate and that -of my companions lay in his clutches. Since that period, since that -comparatively short period, what changes have taken place! This barren -college yard, across which students were wont to hurry, has been -transformed into a beautiful and attractive campus where they are now -prone to linger and repose and sport. This then barren college yard, -where Professors Smyth and Newman struggled desperately to prolong -the existence of a few sickly trees, and died in the struggle, is now -adorned by that beautiful Memorial Hall, created by the hands of a -progressive age, and transmitting to other generations the virtues -and the memory of those sons of Bowdoin who were true to their country -in the hour of her peril. - -[Illustration: ELIJAH KELLOGG AT SEVENTY-SEVEN. 1890.] - -But in other respects what changes! Every president but two, a great -portion of the overseers, the trustees, and alumni, every instructor, -every teacher, every tutor, almost every person in any way connected -with this college, from the treasurer to the janitor, and the woman -who took care of the rooms, have all passed away. I can reckon my own -surviving classmates on my fingers, and I stand here to-day like an old -tree among the younger growth, from whose trunk the bark and leaves -have fallen, and whose roots are drying in the soil. Then I could -stand where the roads divide that lead to Mere Point and Maquoit, and -hear the roar of the Atlantic in one ear and that of the falls of the -Androscoggin in the other. To-day I have not heard a word, except the -two words “Bowdoin College.” - -But there is no decrepitude of the spirit. Moons may wax and wane, -flowers may bloom and wither, but the associations that link the -student to his intellectual birthplace are eternal. - -There is an original tendency in the human mind which is the foundation -of the desire for property. We all naturally crave something that is -our own. What lover of nature wants to be where everybody has been? It -is an instinctive tendency. We want our own land, however limited; our -own house, however humble; our own books, however few in number. Who, -I pray you, wants to “wear his heart upon his sleeve for daws to peck -at,” or be a member of a fraternity that is like an unfenced common for -every slimy thing to creep and to crawl over? It is this instinctive -feeling which has from the beginning been at the foundation of all -fraternities of every description, and they have striven to realize -this idea, though they have not always accomplished it. This principle -of limitation strengthens by concentrating every association and every -feeling of the human mind, just as the expansive gases derive their -terrific power from compression, and liquids, by concentration, gain in -pungency what they lose in bulk. It is this which imparts such magic -power to the college tie, because the college tie brings and binds -together, at a period when friendships are most ardent and sincere, -and feelings are most plastic, those who have separated themselves to -intermeddle with all knowledge, and unites them in the pursuit of all -that can honor God, develop the intellect, or benefit mankind. - -It introduces them at once into a fraternity composed, not merely -of their own classmates and contemporaries, but of all the gifted -and the good who still live in their works, and by whose labors they -profit. The longer a man lives, the broader his views, and the more he -experiences of men and things, the more he feels his obligation to his -Alma Mater, to the nourishment he drew from her bosom, to the formative -influences with which she surrounded him. Brethren, it was here we were -intellectually born and bred. - - “’Twas here our life of life began, - The spirit felt its dormant power. - ’Twas here the youth became the man, - The bud became the flower.” - -The longer a man lives the more sensible he becomes of this obligation, -and though it is impossible to repress a feeling of sadness when we -visit the rooms and tread the floors where those swift-winged hours -flew, and where we decipher the almost obliterated inscriptions, the -names on the walls, names of those most dear to us, of those whose step -kept time and whose hearts throbbed in unison with ours, - - “Who the same pang and pleasure felt, - At the same shrine of worship knelt, - And knew the same celestial glow - That young and burning spirits know - In the bright dreaming days of youth, - Ere visions have been chilled by truth, - And feelings gushed without control - Of those cold fetters fashioned by - That wayward king, society.” - -And yet these considerations are modified by the reflection that they -have nobly used the training that they here received, and are exerting -influences that survive them, and have sown seed that shall be the -increment of future harvests. - -I feel grateful that a lengthened life and an intimate acquaintance -with the history and former faculty and the students of this college -have enabled me to appreciate the progress of this institution for -the last fifty years. For more than forty years circumstances have so -ordered it that I have been brought into most intimate relations with -the faculty and students of Bowdoin College. They have loved me and I -have loved them. I have been brought into contact with these young men -at a period in their moral and mental development when a youth will -tell his whole heart, all his best plans, aspirations, and difficulties -to an older person who he feels understands him and whom he knows he -can trust; and in the light of this experience, I do not hesitate to -say that this college never stood so high in moral and intellectual -work as it does this day. In 1838 I listened to the farewell address -of President Allen to the faculty and students of this college and the -inhabitants of this town, in which he declared that this college was -a seething tub of iniquity, and he could not in conscience advise any -parent to send a child here. Mr. President, do you think you could in -conscience make such a declaration? And whatever may be thought, I say -whatever may be thought of the good judgment of the reverend gentleman, -it cannot be denied that he had good grounds for his assertion. - -There were at that time a great many pious and devoted students in -college, as many, probably, in proportion to the number, as have ever -been since. They had a praying circle, and the college church kept up -their religious meetings and attended them promptly. They lived, the -greater portion of them, devoted and consistent lives, and from time to -time they received the influence of the Divine Spirit, and many strong -men were brought to Christ and fitted for usefulness; but in general -they had the fire all to themselves and it warmed no one else. The -good went with the good, and the bad with the bad. There was a line of -demarcation between them. I did what I could to break it, came very -near shipwreck, and shall carry the scars of it to my grave, but I am -glad I made the attempt. Those were not the methods which the changing -times required. The Christian Association which has superseded them, -built on a broader basis, meets the requirements of to-day, and does -more to promote the morality of the college. Things have broadened -since I was a boy. Why, when I was a young man, it was thought that a -person couldn’t be converted till he was married and settled in life. - -Another thing which has added strength to this college and been -fruitful in respect to morality is the attention that has been paid -of late to athletic exercises. This outlet for superfluous energy has -more to do with the good order and subordination of the institution -than most people are wont to imagine. Boys that in my day would have -been playing cards in their room for a hot supper and fixings at the -Tontine, are now pulling an oar or playing baseball or lawn-tennis, and -the germs of mischief ooze out in copious drops of perspiration. And -when night comes, instead of reveling in shirt-tail processions, making -night hideous, they are contented to sit down with their books or go to -bed. - -It has always been a vexed problem how to give students exercise. -Every man of common sense knows that students, in order to accomplish -anything, must have exercise. Andover built a large building, bought -tools and stock, hired a skilled foreman, and was going to set -the students to work. They wasted so much lumber and brought the -institution so heavily in debt that they were obliged to sell out and -turn the building into a house for Professor Stone. - -I recall the military drill here. It was all very well for a while. But -all couldn’t be officers. Nobody was content to be dragooned by an -army officer. But lawn-tennis, baseball, football, and the gymnasium -fill the bill. The students are proud of their gymnasium, and I know -from personal experience that, during the last eight years, those who -have excelled in athletic exercises have also excelled in rank. - -Now I believe that this college has taken a new departure, and I -believe there is a future for it from the fact that the alumni take -more interest in the college than they used to take, and because there -are so many poor students connected with it. Poor students are the -salvation of a college. I know young men who worked their way through -college who are to-day its benefactors. I worked my way through college -with a narrow axe, and when I was hard up for money, I used to set the -college fence afire and burn it up, and the treasurer would hire me to -build another one. Let the young man who has to help himself thank God, -keep his powder dry, and take to his bosom the old motto: “_Per angusta -ad augusta._” - - - - -AT CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION OF BOWDOIN COLLEGE, JUNE 28, 1894 - - -My love, Mr. President, for this college was inherited. I drew it in -with my mother’s milk, and was taught it at my father’s knees. He was -one of its first trustees, proposed its first president, and sold -the lands the proceeds of which, after almost interminable delays, -built Massachusetts Hall. Judge Freeman of the trustees, a most -excellent and influential man and ardently attached to the college, -was naturally very cautious, and that trait was now much increased -by age; it seemed on account of his influence as if a building would -never be erected. It was at length moved at a meeting of the Boards -that my father be appointed and empowered to sell the college lands. -He accepted the trust on condition that they would put Judge Parker -of Massachusetts with him to draw the writings. This being done, he -said, “Gentleman, these lands will all be sold within a year.” Judge -Freeman, stroking his face, as was his habit when excited, exclaimed: -“They will ruin us. They will ruin us.” “I,” observed another of the -trustees, “want to be ruined; I had rather die at once than moulder -away by dry rot.” The lands were sold within the specified time, a -building was then erected, and President McKeen inaugurated. Seldom -has the hand of Divine Providence been more clearly manifested than in -the origin and growth of this college. From its inception it secured -in its presidents, professors, trustees, and overseers men who had the -interests of morality and sound learning more at heart than their own -ease or emolument. The abilities of its teachers and their reputation -would have at any time procured for them more eligible positions if -ease, compensation, and reputation had alone been consulted. They -were self-denying men; they loved the college and labored and denied -themselves for its good. - -I was absent from college but three years when I returned and settled -at Harpswell. I had a great deal to do with the college, was in -intimate relations with the professors and their families, and had -opportunity to appreciate their real worth. They were not merely -residents of the community, but useful citizens and a public blessing. -The high school owes its origin in a great degree to Professor Smyth. -All the neighboring ministers were under more or less obligation to -them. They attended funerals, supplied destitute churches, and in the -weekly religious meetings of the village were a power for good. I have -worked weeks with Professor Smyth, setting out trees on the campus -which he bought and paid for. Professor Upham gave the greater part -of his property to the college. He for two years supplied the pulpit -of the Congregational church at Harpswell, and but for his efforts it -would not have been in existence now. In the last term of my senior -year he came to Andover and told me if I did not go to Harpswell, God -would curse me as long as I lived. I do not know what the Lord would -have done, but I have found that obedience is sweet and not servitude. - -Those worthy men inspired the students with like sentiments. Every -class made great sacrifices to purchase valuable standard works for -their society libraries. The literary spirit was by no means in -abeyance in those days. The best minds in college took as much interest -in preparing themselves for debates and other parts in the two -societies as they did for a Junior and Senior Exhibition. The students -dammed the glen at Paradise Spring and made a pond. They also terraced -the sides of the glen and constructed seats of turf, and addresses -and poems were delivered there to most appreciative audiences. Sam -Silsbee flung Albion Andrew into Paradise Pond, and he was so fat -that he floated like a bladder. Sam was not aware that he was laying -sacrilegious hands upon the future governor of Massachusetts any more -than I was aware that Melville Fuller would be Chief Justice of the -United States, when with care on his young brow and the fire of a -great purpose in his eye, I marked him laying the foundation of future -renown. Were there not poets in those days who possessed the vision and -the faculty divine? Did not President Allen have a hat that was woven -of grass that grew on Mount Parnassus? Did not John B. Soule compose a -Latin ode upon a moth that flew into a candle which in the opinion of -the class compared favorably with those of Horace? And has he not since -that time by more elaborate efforts proved that the child is father of -the man? How can I ignore a most pathetic effusion, on the death of -an unfortunate cat that was crushed beneath a woodpile, written in the -style of President Allen? - - “Poor puss, and wast thou to death squeezed - Beneath the weighty pile? - How must thy life have been outsneezed - The agonizing while! - And, pussy, didst thou found it hard - To part from kittens young? - For if thou’dst not a feeling heart, - Thou hadst a feline one. - Now, pussy, since thou art up-used, - From door thee I’ll outthrow, - Thy body from thy mind unscrewed, - To bleach beneath the snow. - By hill and valley, dale and stream, - The rats shall frisk and frolic, - Crying ’Hurrah, we’ll lick the cream - Since pussy’s got the colic.’” - -During the latter part of President Allen’s administration discipline -was lax; intemperance prevailed to a fearful extent in college as it -did in the community. There were no railroads, and people came to -Commencement and remained in Brunswick till the close. It was then -customary for the graduating class to set tables in the rooms in which -were liquors and other refreshments, and entertain their relatives -and friends. At one time there was a room in North College in which -a table was set with liquors and other refreshments, and straw was -put upon the floor, and over the door a sign bearing the inscription, -“Entertainment for Man and Beast.” But even at that time there was a -body of students composing the college church or Praying Circle, as it -was termed, the greater number of whom were persons of the most decided -religious character. They held meetings and taught Sabbath-schools -in different parts of the town, and were in sympathy with every good -work; but between them and the majority of the other students there was -a line of demarcation. Each party travelled their own road, and they -had little to do with one another. But after 1838 there was a change; -a deep religious interest began and continued, the herald of a better -day. Since that day Christian associations have exerted a salutary -influence, and, like the Gulf Stream sending its warm current through -the cold waters of the Atlantic, have imparted a more genial tone to -the intercourse of the students. Athletic exercises have likewise -laid a strong hand upon much of the time formerly devoted to more -questionable recreations. Although the present furor in these sports -has its dangers and the matter is liable to abuse, yet they fill the -bill as nothing else ever did, and when pruned of their excrescences -will become a power for good. Young men of real stamina, however full -of blue veins and vitriol and however enamoured of baseball, football, -and boating, and hurried to extremes for the moment, will yet recall -and heed the words of Cicero who represents Milo of Crotona, the -greatest athlete of ancient times, who could kill an ox with a blow of -his fist, shedding idiotic tears as in his old age he looked upon his -flabby skin and shrunken muscles, and wept because he could no longer -contend and conquer in the Olympic games. Milo had muscle and nothing -else. May it never be said of Bowdoin students that they have muscle -and nothing else, and certainly not that they are destitute of it. - -Great was the change when President Woods succeeded President Allen. -Never will the upper classes of that year forget the day of his -inauguration. When he took his stand upon the platform to deliver -his address, he laid upon the table before him a manuscript as thick -as a three-inch plank. A riband was passed through it, dividing it -into equal parts. But he never looked at it from the beginning to the -close, except that, when halfway through, he opened at the riband but -made no use of it. For more than two hours, without the hesitation of -a moment or the lapse of a word, he held that audience spellbound. -I have never known the man who could produce the impression--and a -permanent one--upon a wild boy that he could. There are many living, -distinguished and beloved, and many here present who will never forget -their obligations to Leonard Woods. - -For a poor boy smitten with the love of knowledge to work his way -through college was once a formidable task. The only methods of doing -it were keeping school in the long winter vacation, manual labor as -they went along, or hiring money with the result of being burdened with -debt at graduation. The Education Society could do but little, and -there were no scholarships as at present. I walked seventy-five miles -over the frozen ground after Christmas to the Penobscot to keep school, -and back again through the mud in March, because I was too poor to -ride; and I had to hire a watch in Brunswick to keep school with. - -The commonwealth justly expects much from the students and alumni who -enjoy the advantages both literary and pecuniary now accorded. - - “Ye are marked men, ye men of Dalecarlia.” - -The associations of this day come home with peculiar force to the -minds of those who have been familiar with the history and watched the -progress of this college from the day it was a mere shrub, with bare -shade sufficient to cover its own roots, to this glad hour when they -rejoice that they are permitted to look upon it as a massive tree, on -whose broad foliage the sunlight loves to linger and the dew lieth all -night on its branches. Withered hands are lifted in benediction: the -tremulous accents of age join the universal jubilee. They will depart -cheered by the assurance that when the dial plate shall be taken off -from this great clockwork of the universe, and in eternity we behold -its secret wheels and springs, it will be found that those who, at this -seat of science, have separated themselves that they might intermeddle -with all knowledge, its officers and its benefactors, have lived, -labored, endured, not for themselves, but for their country and their -God. - - - - -LOVE - -[Delivered at “Donation Party,” Harpswell, September 18, 1894] - - -Love, my friends and neighbors, is something that defies definition and -resents analysis. It is not possible to communicate the perception of -it to one who has never experienced it. It must be felt in order to be -known. It is likewise the most permanent of all the qualities of the -mind. Anger, however violent, expires with the occasion that called it -forth. Grief, however bitter and heart-rending, time will remove, and -it will blunt the sting of sorrow. But love is inexhaustible and grows -by what it feeds upon. Here is the father of a young family. He is -returning at night from his work. As he approaches the door, a little -one who can just go alone espies him. With cries of delight he runs to -meet his parent, till, out of breath and strength, he falls exhausted -into his father’s outstretched arms. The happy parent raises the -little one and kisses him. When he has kissed that child a dozen times, -does he not want to kiss him a dozen times more? Thus affection grows -by what it feeds upon and is inexhaustible. It will do or endure more -for the welfare of its object than any other faculty. You may hire a -man to labor for you, you may force him to obey you, but not to love -you. No power on earth can do that. On the other hand, does he love -you, that love will cause him to do more for you than all other motives -put together, and the more he does the more will he delight to do, -because love tells nothing is lost that a good friend gets. - -[Illustration: ELIJAH KELLOGG AT EIGHTY. 1893.] - -There are people before me to-night whom I began to love forty years -ago. Do I love them less? Is the affection worn out? No; it is worn in. -Then it was in the bark, but now it has got into the heart of the tree. - -Here, also, are the children and grandchildren of those who are not, -for God has taken them, and the affection I bore their parents clings -to the children. It is not worn out, because love is stronger than -death. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. -Or if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it -would utterly be contemned. It is love that makes home, love that makes -friends in the world, love that makes heaven, for God is love. - -What has brought all these friends together to-night? They did not -come to get, but to give, not with their hands shut up, but with both -hearts and hands wide open. They have come to gratify their feelings of -neighborly friendship and affection; for if they did not thus gratify -those feelings, they would not enjoy what they had left. Ought I not -to be grateful to be the recipient of so much good-will, kindness, and -neighborly affection? I trust it will be an encouragement to render me -more faithful to your souls’ best interests, to work for you and seek -your good; to pray that God, who loves the cheerful giver, will reward -and bless you. - -There were never two persons in this world who loved each other but -wanted and loved to eat together, and there were never two enemies who -did. There were never two persons who loved each other, loved God, -but who loved and wanted to pray together. We have eaten together; we -have enjoyed each other’s society; recalled the feelings of other and -happier days, before toil had stiffened our limbs, sorrow entered our -hearts, or tears trembled on our eyelids; now let us pray together -before we separate. - - - - -THE DELUDED HERMIT - -[Delivered at “Donation Party,” October 1, 1895] - - -In the ancient days, after the early Christian fathers who succeeded -the Apostles had departed, religion degenerated into superstition. -There arose under the influence of the Roman Catholic Church a class -of hermits, anchorites, and devotees who thought that heaven and -holiness were to be obtained by torturing and denying the flesh; that -by secluding themselves from society, by fastings and watchings, they -might escape temptation and sin and live nearer to God and merit the -divine favor. - -In the North Sea are a group of islands belonging to Denmark, sixteen -in number, called the Färöe Isles, some of which are of considerable -size and inhabited, others mere patches of rocks and turf. Upon one -of these, which is a mere sand spit flung up by the sea, a hermit had -taken up his residence. His dwelling was built of the stones of the -place, and the entrance was so low that he went in and came out on his -knees. When the door was closed, it was lighted by an opening in the -top which permitted a view of the sky, of the sun when far advanced -in the heavens, of the moon and the stars, but not of the earth. Here -this pious but deluded saint passed his days in prayer, meditation, -frequent fasting, and reading the Bible. His food was brought to him by -the inhabitants of the neighboring islands who greatly revered him for -his holiness and sought his prayers for themselves and their household. -He imagined that if he could see only the heavens, he should become -less earthly; that by cutting himself off from the sins, the cares, -and the labors of worldly and sinful men and being alone with God, -he should make great advance in holiness. Poor deluded man! If, when -he looked upon the heavens, the sun, the moon, and the stars, he had -only taken a reasonable and scriptural view of the purpose for which -they were created, he would have perceived that it was for the good of -others they were created, to declare the glory of God to a universe, -to cause grass to grow for cattle, and herbs for the use of man; that -for six thousand years they had been holding to all the nations of the -earth their high and perpetual discourse of the wisdom, power, and -goodness of God, who openeth His liberal hand and satisfieth the desire -of every living thing. Such reflections would have taught him that -if, instead of spending his life and energies, and consuming soul and -body, in prayers and meditations that began and ended in themselves, -he had taken a portion of his time to keep the fire burning on his own -hearthstone, and then gone forth among those islanders and told them -of God and Christ and the duties they owed, given them the benefit of -and shared with them his wisdom and holiness, and taught them to love -God and each other, it would have been more acceptable to God, and in -blessing he would have been blessed. This mistaken man imagined he -was crucifying sin when he was only crucifying the natural affections -and sympathies God had given him to be gratified for his own good and -that of others. Man was not made to live in a state of isolation, but -in fellowship with his kind. The human heart craves sympathy just as -naturally as the vine stretches its tendrils to clasp some friendly -prop, and, failing to reach it, droops and withers and bears no fruit. -He, who is the centre of many loving hearts, whose interests, joys, and -sorrows are his and his theirs, is stronger and happier than he who -treads the brier-planted path of life alone, with no one to lean upon -and share the burden or the conflict with him. We were made to find our -happiness in the happiness of others. When is a gift valuable? When -it is a part of the heart of him who bestows it. That which makes the -gifts I receive upon occasions like this of priceless value to me is -that they come from those with whom I have lived in love and sympathy -so long that they have become part of myself. The Saviour has said it -is more blessed to give than to receive. It is more blessed to give -than to receive. It is more gratifying to be able to bestow favors -than to be obliged to receive them. It is more like our Maker. He -never receives anything, for all things are His. He is the universal -giver.... May He who gives us all things reward you in your persons and -in your households, and grant you that which He sees is best for your -happiness both here and hereafter. - - - - -HOME - -[Delivered at “Donation Party,” October 19, 1897] - - -The sweetest word that ever trembled on human lips is the word “home.” -It embraces and concentrates in itself the germs of a thousand forces -of happiness, power, and progress yet to be developed from it. So -long as man wanders, and, like the savage, merely gathers what grows -of itself from the soil, or captures the fish of the streams, the -birds of the air, and the beasts that roam the forests, he makes no -progress; he bestows no labor upon, and therefore takes no interest -in, that abode which he is to abandon to-morrow. It is only when he -has a permanent dwelling and produces something from the earth that -progress, happiness, and the home relation begin. Home is the place -where character is built, where sacrifices to contribute to the -happiness of others are made, and where love has taken up its abode. -Love is the strongest passion of our natures and finds its happiness -in sacrificing for its object; the parent for the child, the child for -the parent, the sister for the brother. In this relation they are in -the best possible position for moral and intellectual development; they -stimulate and call out each other’s powers, energies, and affections. - -Infinite wisdom has declared, “It is not good for man to be alone.” -There is not a more unsightly or unprofitable tree than a white pine -growing alone. It is a mass of knots, knobs, short-jointed, crooked, -and wind-shaken,--in short, a scrub. The lumbermen in contempt call it -a bull pine. But put a thousand of them together as near as they can -grow. What a change! As you enter that majestic cathedral no sunbeam -can pierce, and look up at those heights,--trees straight as an arrow -seventy feet to a limb,--you almost feel like uncovering in reverence. -Thus with the family relation. The happiest homes are those the members -of which are frequently called to sacrifice something or to deny -themselves something for the others’ comforts and happiness. It is this -that sweetens home. It is those who bear the burdens of life together, -relying upon and trusting in each other, who get the most out of life, -bear its trials without being soured by them, and rear children who -arise and call them blessed--children that have real manhood--who can -look danger in the eye without quailing and grapple to severe tasks -without wilting, and are nobody’s servants. - -It is evident that home is not mere locality, that it is not defined -by metes and bounds. From Gibraltar to Archangel, from Calcutta to the -frozen seas, there are homes. One principle, one fruit-bud produces -them all. Home is not a thing that can be bought or sold in the market. -You may buy a homestead or a house, you may perhaps buy a wife, but you -cannot buy a woman’s love. Costly furniture, rich dresses, retinues -of servants, and luxurious dishes do not make homes. It is not the -residence but the affection of the occupants that constitutes the home. -Those who are united in the bonds of a true affection behold themselves -reflected in each other, and each is to the other as another self. In -the confidence of love there is repose. - -My friends and neighbors, this assembly is made up of those who have -been reared and have reared others in homes where parental love and -filial affection were the mainsprings of action and the foundation of -charitable and friendly acts. The desire to share with others the gifts -a kindly Providence bestows on ourselves is bred in the atmosphere of -home. All the sweet charities of life are but the overflow of these -feelings and sympathies born and bred at the domestic hearthstone. - -I thank you, my friends and neighbors, for the gifts of affection -bestowed this night, and may the blessing of God rest upon yourselves, -your children, and your homes. - - - - -SERMONS - - -THE PRODIGAL’S RETURN - -Text: Luke xv. 18, 20. “_I will arise and go to my father._” “_But when -he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and -ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him._” - - -The Saviour, by a beautiful and affecting story, illustrates the -natural and inevitable result of a sinful course, a course of -ingratitude and disobedience to God. We have placed before us the life -of a Hebrew patriarch. In that land now so barren beneath the curse of -God and the curse of a despotic government, but once so full of beauty -and blossoming, when the Chosen People clothed its now barren mountain -peaks with clambering vines and its valleys with waving grass and -grain, dwelt a Hebrew, a righteous man among the kindred of his people, -to whom God had given goodly land, and flocks and herds in abundance, -whose tents stretched far over the plains, and who had servants -born in his house. This man had two sons, one of whom was much older -than the other. It was a pleasant household; the father was kind and -affectionate to his servants and to the poor,--a just man, fearing God -and tenderly attached to his children. - -As the two brothers were different in their age, so were they in their -dispositions. The elder son was sober, industrious, and found in the -care of the flocks and the quiet enjoyments of rural life enough to -occupy and interest him. The father could put confidence in him, -could go away from home and leave all his business to his care, sure -that it would be completed as if he himself were present. But though -sober, industrious, and trustworthy, and held by the restraints of -his education, yet he was not of an affectionate and generous nature, -but penurious and severe in his temper, and much more feared and -respected than beloved by his servants and his equals. But the younger -son was the very opposite. He was full of life and energy, but fickle -and restless, and directed his energies to no good purpose. He cared -nothing for business nor for cattle. He would not remain at home, but -wandered from tent to tent and from vineyard to vineyard and into the -distant city; the farm life was dull and distasteful to him. His father -could put no trust in him. If so be that his father went from home and -left him in charge of the flocks and the servants, he was sure to find -on his return that the flocks had strayed, that some of them had been -lost or devoured by the wolves, or to find his son frolicking with the -servants instead of directing their labor. Thus while he could trust -the elder son with everything, he could trust the younger with nothing, -and must always watch him with constant anxiety. - -Yet, with all his faults, the younger son was generous and -affectionate, keen to perceive and understand, and of great -determination to accomplish when he was so minded. The father often -said to himself: “Oh, that my son would only do well! How much -comfort and honor would he be to me! And how much good he might -accomplish!” Indeed, it seemed ofttimes that the boy could not help -his wrong-doing; his wild, frolicsome, headstrong nature did so hurry -him along. Afterward he would be sorry and even shed tears, and then -go straightway and do the same again. Yet was the heart of the father -more after this wild slip of a boy than after the other. - -There is in the heart of the parent a principle, not possible perhaps -to be explained, which leads him to be more attached to and indulgent -of the youngest child. There is something also in the very anxiety -that the follies of the disobedient child occasion which calls out and -fosters the affections of the parent more strongly for him than for -the one who never gives that cause for uneasiness. The father also -felt that the boy, though carried away by the impulses of his own -imaginations and the romance of his nature and spirit, was after all -of deeper affections and nobler impulses and greater capacity than -the other son, and had in him all the raw material of a noble, useful -character, could this impetuous spirit and these burning impulses be -subdued, not destroyed, and these energies wisely directed. Many a -bitter tear he shed, and many a prayer he put up to God for this child -of his love and his old age. - -Matters went on in this way from bad to worse, the son becoming -more and more discontented and uneasy. He listened to the tales of -travellers who had been to distant lands and over the sea till his -blood boiled, and he said to himself: “Shall I never see anything but -these same hills and valleys? Shall I never hear any discourse but -about sheep and goats and fleeces of wool and cheese and barley? Shall -I never see anything of the great world of which I hear so much? Must -I stay here and milk goats when there is so much pleasure in the world -to be enjoyed?” But now the time draws near when he shall be of age -and his own master to go where he pleases. How he has been counting -the days and reckoning up the time when he shall escape the restraints -of home! No sooner has the time arrived than he goes to his father and -says to him, “Father, give me so much of your property as belongs to -me, my share.” He does not ask it as a gift, but as a debt which the -father was under obligations to pay him. What right had he to demand -anything of the father? Had it been his elder brother who made this -demand, who for many years after he was of age had labored hard and -given the proceeds of his labor into the common stock, there would have -been some justice in the request. But this man had never done anything, -had spent all he could get, had tried his father to the utmost, and -now had the assurance to come to his father and say: “Such a part of -the property belongs to me. I want it, that I may go where I like and -spend it as I wish.” He had been so long in the habit of receiving from -his father without effort of his own that he had come to consider it as -a matter of right. - -The father was pained by this ungrateful conduct, and the prodigal in -his own heart felt ashamed of himself; in the bottom of his heart he -loved and respected his father, but the love of pleasure, his lofty -imaginations of the enjoyments to be found in the world of which he had -read, heard, and dreamed so much, overpowered all other feelings. Could -he only escape from the restraints of home and obtain money and means -to gratify his desires, he should be happy. The father without any -reproach divides his living and gives to him his share. He has never -seen so much money before in his life. He is mad with joy. He thinks -it will never be exhausted. He can hardly stop to bid good-by to his -family, to his father whose heart aches to see this son of his love so -glad to leave him. He takes his journey into a far country, just as far -from home as he can get, that his friends may not be able to know what -he is doing or to trouble him with advice. He’s had advice enough. He’s -had enough of home. He’s going to try the world. Now he gives loose -rein to all his lusts. He is soon surrounded by a circle of generous, -jovial companions who would die for him; who every day pledge him -health and happiness in the social glass; who, so far from troubling -him with advice, tell him he is a noble-hearted, princely fellow, and -that everything he says and does is just right. How much better they -are than his father’s old, stupid, hard-working servants, or than his -sober brother who thought only of sheep and begrudged him every cent, -or than his father who was always telling him about the temptations -of life! These noble, large-hearted fellows tell him money is made to -spend and life is made to enjoy. - -While he is thus going onward in the pursuit of pleasure, there comes -a famine in the land. The prices of food rise to a fearful extent. -His money is exhausted, and he is amazed to find that his friends so -kind begin to cool in their affections just in proportion as his means -diminish. He finds that, so far from dying for him, their intention -is to live upon him till he has nothing left and then reproach him -for his extravagance. The friend who begged him to make his house his -home, just as though he were in his own father’s house, intimates -that times are very hard and every one must look out for himself. -Hunger succeeds and rags. He who never had a serious thought before -is serious enough now. He who never bestowed a thought upon food or -raiment must now find food or perish. In his necessity he resorts to -the house of a farmer and with humble tone begs work. He who demanded -of his father the property he had never earned a dollar of begs for the -meanest employment that may keep him from starving! The farmer tells -him that he may go into his fields and feed swine and eat a morsel with -the servants in the kitchen. But the servants’ fare is scanty, just -sufficient to preserve life. In the morning after taking his morsel, he -goes with a heavy heart to his work. What a contrast! He thought his -home lonesome; but where and what is he now? All around him the land -is scorched, the streams are dry, the trees leafless. He thought it -hard to feed cattle; he must now feed hogs and beg for the privilege. -Corn is so scarce that the swine can have only the husks, and he is so -hungry that he would fain fill himself with the husks that the swine -eat and no man gives unto him. Not one of all his former friends upon -whom he has spent so much will give him a crust. - -He now comes to himself; for the first time in his life he begins to -think. He thinks of his kind old father, of his home where there is -plenty. He says, “How many servants of my father have bread enough -and to spare, and I perish with hunger!” He says, “Shall I go home?” -Pride whispers: “Go home? How can I look upon my father’s face, on my -brother who was always steady and industrious, and the old neighbors? -My very looks will tell what I am, and where I have been, and what I -have been doing. No, I won’t go home. I can’t go home. I will starve to -death first.” But it is much easier to talk about starving than it is -to starve. Hunger and poverty are hard masters. Long is the struggle, -terrible. At length he decides. “I will go while I have strength enough -left to get there. ’I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto -him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no -more worthy to be called thy son.’” And before his resolution has time -to cool, he sets out on his journey. - -How truly and strikingly does this illustrate the condition of one who -wanders from God, and breaks the commands and deserts the house of his -Father in heaven. A young man has grown up the inmate of a Christian -family, but God has created him. His abilities of body and mind are -from God. The property which he acquires, the ability to obtain it, -and the opportunity and the time are God’s ability, God’s property, -God’s time. God declares that by using these in his service, he shall -be happy in life, and in eternity receive the crown of glory. But these -commands are not agreeable to him any more than the commands of the -father were to the prodigal. He does not feel that his abilities and -happiness are the gift of God, that he is under any obligation to his -Father in heaven. In the flush of youth and health and hot blood, he -feels that his strength is the strength of stones and his flesh brass. -He says to his heavenly, as the prodigal to his earthly, Father, “Give -me the portion of goods that falleth to me.” He feels that they are -his own to use as he pleases, and thus he means to do; though like the -prodigal all the return he has ever made to God is to sin against Him. -He loves not to think of God and eternity and Christ and sin. So, like -the son in the parable, he goes into a far country. - -It is not literal space that is here meant; it is the distance of -thought and feeling and affections and obedience. A man need not go -out of his country to get far from God. At home, in the practice of -all the outward duties of morality, regular in the attendance upon the -sanctuary, he may yet live as far from God, as unwilling to submit to -His commands, as though living in the most disorderly manner and in -open sin. But whether on the ocean and in foreign lands he lives in -sin and spends his substance in riotous living and looks everywhere -among all forbidden pleasures for happiness, or on the land conceals a -proud heart under a correct life, the result is that he is wretched, -finds no peace. But now the Spirit of God touches his heart, leads -him to reflect upon his true condition. He comes to himself. “I have -broken the laws. I have grieved thy spirit. I deserve not the least -of thy mercies. Do with me what seemeth good in thy sight.” But then -the thought arises,--and it is a bitter one,--”How can I go into the -presence of that pure and holy God? I, so vile a sinner, who have -blasphemed His name! Can such a sin be forgiven?” - -Let us now consider the reception the son meets with. It is noontide, -the time of burning heat. The cattle have sought the groves and the -cool places of the hills, or are standing in the running streams -beneath the tall reeds of the jungles. The goats seek the clefts of the -rocks. In his tent door, beneath the drooping branches of a sycamore -that screen it from the sun, sits an aged patriarch. On his face is -that submissive look that neither tongue nor pen can describe, and -that tells of high and holy communion with God. All around is peace -inviting to repose. The faint breath of the dying breeze is gently -rustling the leaves mingling with the hum of bees and the low murmur of -a distant brook. The servants are sleeping in the shadow. But the old -patriarch slumbers not with his slumbering servants. On his meek face -is a troubled look, and now and then a silent tear steals down his -cheek and falls upon his clasped hands. He is thinking of his absent, -dearly loved, wayward child! From the past he argues disastrously of -the future. If so headstrong and reckless under the mild restraint -of home, what will become of him when all check is removed? Where is -he, on sea or on land, this child of many prayers, many counsels, and -bitter anxieties? Is he living in riot and folly, or is he already -in suffering and distress, having not where to lay his head? Has he -remembered any of the words of affectionate counsel that have been -spoken to him? Do his thoughts ever turn toward his home and the -friends of his youth? - -While the good father is thus sitting in his tent door praying for and -thinking of his son, he sees a traveller far off upon the plains, so -far that he just discerns him. He thinks, What if that should be my -son? So he steps out from the tent door and he looks long and eagerly, -for the traveller comes slowly. But as he approaches, the father sees -he is lame, footsore, and ragged, and his heart tells him: “This is -just the condition in which I might expect my son to come. Ah, yes, -that is he.” And instantly the father runs to meet him. - -But what are the feelings of the prodigal as he draws near his native -country and the old familiar features of the landscape strike his eye, -and he sees in the distance his father’s tent and the old trees under -whose shadows he played when a boy? How does he feel? He does not feel -one-half the resolution he did when he set out. His hope which at first -sustained him begins to waver. He does not feel so much confidence now -as he did when he was farther off. He begins to think of his rags, and -the appearance he makes. He goes into the thicket and washes his face -in the brook and sleeks up his rags, and tries to make himself look -decent and respectable to meet his father. But it is no use. Wherever -he touches them they tear and finally fall off altogether, they are so -rotten. At length he gives up in despair and says: “Well, I must go as -I am, miserable wretch. I can’t make myself any better; the more I try -the worse I look. There’s nothing to make decency out of. Oh! what will -my father say to me, miserable? God help me!” - -While he is thus talking and going along, he sees his father in the -tent door. “Oh,” he says, “there is my father now!” Then he stops right -short in the road and looks down upon the ground, and is of a good mind -to turn back and run away. But while he is hesitating, his father comes -running and falls right on his neck and kisses him. And when he feels -his old father’s arms embracing him, his lips on his cheeks, and his -tears on his neck,--oh, that is the worst of all. Then his heart is -like to break with sorrow. He did not expect such treatment as this. -If his father had only reproached him and said, “You vile, wicked boy, -is this what you have come to?” he could bear that better. But this -kindness and love,--it quite breaks his heart. Then as soon as he can -find voice for tears, he slips out of his father’s arms and falls -down on his knees and says: “’Father, I have sinned against heaven -and before thee, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.’ Don’t -call me son; it breaks my heart. Make me thy servant, thy slave. Thou -didst give me a goodly fortune which I never earned a dollar of. I have -spent it all in folly, wasted thy substance, and disgraced thy name in -foreign lands wherever I have been. I come here in wretchedness and -rags to disgrace thee still more among the neighbors that know thee and -thy goodness. Now, Father, let me be thy servant and serve thee, that I -may earn thee something to atone for spending thy property and to show -that I am really sorry.” But the father will hear nothing of all this, -and while he is speaking, cuts him short, saying to the servants who -stand wondering, “Bring forth the best robe; take off his rags; wash -his sores; put a ring on his hands, and shoes on his feet: and bring -hither the fatted calf and kill it; for this my son was dead, and is -alive again; he was lost, and is found.” - -Thus it is with the returning and repentant sinner. When he is far from -God and is first drawn by the Spirit and assured by revelations of His -mercy, he with considerable courage begins to seek and pray. But as he -comes nearer and the light from the Excellent Glory grows stronger, and -he sees more of his sins, he begins to doubt and to falter. But when -God sees him thus afar off, sees a little love in his heart, He comes -to meet him. He puts the robe of Christ upon him and gives to him the -signet ring. - -My dear friends who are out of Christ, you are away from home. You -are perishing. You have no food for your souls. You will die and be -lost. Why sit here and perish in a foreign land? Why feed on husks when -you may have the choicest of the wheat? There is bread enough in your -father’s house. Many have gone there; more are on the road; others are -coming. Won’t you join the goodly company? Be resolute. Say, “I will.” -Be resolute as in the emergencies of life and business; as when the lee -shore is on one side and the gale on the other, and the seaman presses -the canvas on the cracking spars and the straining rigging, and the -ship must carry it or be dashed upon the breakers; be resolute as when -one sees his friend perishing in the water and says, “I will save him -or die with him.” - -My dear hearers, won’t you say: “I will go. Nothing shall keep me back -from my Saviour. Sins nor fears nor devils shall not stop me. I will -try if I die. I know that God is merciful.” - - - - -WRESTING THE SCRIPTURES - -The Second Epistle of Peter, Chapter III, part of 16th verse. “_In -which are some things hard to be understood, which they that are -unlearned and unstable wrest, as they do also the other Scriptures, -unto their own destruction._” - - -In speaking from this text I might dilate upon the etymology of the -words “unlearned” and “unstable.” I might go on to observe that we -must take the Bible as a whole and be taught of the Spirit in order to -practice its plain truths and fathom its more difficult ones; that as -in the schools of human science the elementary text-books are simple -while those designed for the advanced classes are more abstruse, thus -the Bible contains many things which are now far beyond the reach -of our minds, but to the comprehension of which we shall clamber up -in eternity; that in the Bible, the book of time and eternity, the -two volumes are bound in one. Here we only read the preface and the -introduction; in the hereafter we shall peruse the whole of the book. - -But as these themes are frequently discussed with more of learning than -I can presume to bring to the task, I shall pursue a less beaten path -and content myself with observing that to “wrest” a thing signifies -to wrench or twist it from its true position; the very word implies -violence. Thus to wrest a truth of Scripture signifies to detach it -from the other truths of the system, to make it bear a false meaning, -or to rob it of all meaning. A truth of Scripture thus wrested is no -longer a truth, and is, therefore, of no avail to the man who has -wrested it. It can do him no good; he can no more get to heaven with it -than a man who should tear a plank or a breast-hook from a ship could -cross the Atlantic upon it. But as there are capillary veins and nerves -in the bodily organization which discharge important though minute -functions, and becoming diseased affect larger vessels and tissues, -the consequence of which is sickness, and the result death, so there -are methods of wresting the Scriptures less violent but not less -fatal in their consequences. So great, my friends, is the evil bias of -our nature and so deceitful is the human heart that we are prone to -deceive ourselves, imagining that we are doing the will of God while we -are doing our own will, obeying while we are wresting the Scriptures. -This principle, following the example of Jesus of Nazareth, I will -illustrate by a parable. - -In that never-to-be-forgotten year when the Pilgrim Fathers of New -England rose up from their knees beneath the cliffs of Holland and -embarked, there dwelt, where Derwent-Water pours its swift current into -the black gorges of a lonely tarn, the descendant of a house, rich -in ancestral memories and renowned in arms. Often had these massive -walls rung to the battle clarion and its floors echoed to the tread -of mail-clad men. But their descendant, though inheriting all the -lofty heroism of his race, is, with a heart subdued by grace, a man of -scholarly tastes, of peace, and of God. - -Amid the family circle where are the mother that reared, the wife that -cherishes him, and the children who climb his knees, he lives, labors, -and prays. “Surely,” said some looker at the outward appearance, “this -man does not serve God for naught. Has not God made a hedge about him -and all that he has? He would have his good things in both lives. Is he -willing to sacrifice anything? Would he do anything with the Cross of -Christ other than build it into the masonry of his castles or inscribe -it upon the banner folds of his vassals?” Let us see. - -He enters his library, a room of antique mould; the roof groined and -blazoned reflects a thousand hues of soft light from lamps of fretted -gold. The thickly carpeted floor returns no echo to the footfall. View -him as he stands beneath that mellow light: The face is the face of a -prophet. The pure white brow, which no hardship has bronzed and around -which the locks of early manhood are clustering, is as radiant with -goodness as heaven’s own light. The eyes suffused, not dimmed, by that -mist which is the forerunner of tears, are turned toward heaven, while -from their calm depths, pure as those through which wanders the light -of stars, beam glances of gentle affection, a humility not assumed but -ingrained like the summer flush upon the cheek of a ripened grape. The -strong, firm lips are slightly parted with an expression of purpose -and action; motionless they seem to utter, “Father, what wilt Thou have -me to do?” - -Thoughtful he stands, then bows that stately head in deep contrition -before God. He kneels, indeed, upon an embroidered cushion, but it -is wet with tears. This man of noble blood and old descent, who -sayeth “to this man ’Go,’ and he goeth, and to another ’Come,’ and -he cometh,” grovels in the dust before his Maker. In his anguish he -prostrates himself upon the floor; he cannot get low enough before -his God. It is in his heart to embark with the Pilgrims, and he asks -counsel of Heaven: “Father, wilt Thou that I leave these towers of my -ancestors, moistened with their blood and beneath whose shadows their -bones lie mouldering, and my mother now in the wane of life? Wilt Thou -that I should take the wife of my bosom, my little ones reared in -luxury and with tenderness, that I myself ever having lived and loved -among the gifted and the great should go forth with my brethren to -the wilderness? Tell me, O my Father, that it is my duty, and I will -fling my whole estate into thy treasury as willingly as ever prodigal -wasted his in riotous living; I will venture my life and the lives of -those dearer to me than my own as readily as ever one of my warrior -ancestors laid lance in rest to break a hedge of spears. Thou knowest -that I love mother, wife, and children, comfort, refinement, wealth; -that life is sweet to the lusty and the young. Thou knowest how dear -to me are these old trees beneath which in childhood I played, these -swelling hills, these gently sloping vales, this fair stream whose -gleam I love at the sunset hour to catch through green foliage and to -whose murmur I love to listen, this chosen retreat filled with books -that embalm the lore of centuries whither I may retire after drinking -a thousand inspirations from without, and in silent prayer and thought -make them my own, growing in the reaches of my lonely thought to -greater affluence of progress and power. But I love Thee, O Lord Jesus -Christ, my Saviour, more than these; therefore let me go. Already my -brother and my kindred deem that I shrink from sacrifice and thus shall -thy name be dishonored through me. Thou lovest me not, else wouldst -Thou chasten me, wouldst permit me to endure hardness. Surely I am a -bastard and no son. He that never suffered never loved.” - -But while thus he prays and pleads, a voice from the Excellent Glory -whispers to his soul: “I know thou lovest me. Yet shalt thou not -embark. In Abraham I accepted the full purpose and the firm intent; so -will I in regard to thee. I have in reserve for thee tasks as stern, -and sacrifices as great, as the forests of America can furnish, tasks -for which I created thee and gave thee thy capacities. Thy forefathers -were men of brawn, but thou art a man of mind. Have not I chosen the -men who are to go? Their flesh is hard, their bones are strong to bear -the harness, and their whole course of thought is of a sterner cast, -better fitted than thine to bear the sword and set the battle in array. -It is not my will that the fire shall die upon the ancient altars; -remain thou to quicken its flame. I will not that thy mother, that -old saint who hath reared her household in the nurture and admonition -of the Lord, shall in her old age lack the protection of the son best -fitted of all her race to cherish her declining years; for I am a -covenant-keeping God. Remain, therefore, to lay thy hand upon her eyes. -Learning, eloquence, and passing knowledge to bend the minds of men -of all ranks to thy wish are thine. Go then into the councils of the -nation, there to use thy power for me, to moderate the fierceness of -persecution and send succor to those who are to go forth with the wolf -and the bear to the hillside. There are keener pangs than those born -of flowing blood and stiffening wounds on lonely battlefields, gashes -deeper than the tomahawk and the scalping knife can make, wrestlings -more terrible than those with flesh and blood. Fear not that thou -shalt lack occasions to prove thy zeal. Thou shalt find all the sunny -memories of thy life turned to gall. The church to whose altar thy -mother had thee linked with all the sweet memories of thy childhood -shall close to thee its doors. Thy children shall be excluded from -those seats of learning where their kindred and their mates resort. -And thou must endure all these things being among them, and thus the -iron will be pressed into thy soul day by day, which is more terrible -than to endure in a foreign land where thou art equal to thy fellows in -suffering and in privilege. These are sterner trials to the flesh and -to the faith, than when war horses are neighing and clarions sounding -to the charge, and the maddening rush and roar of conflict impart the -very courage they require to rush on perils and set thy life upon a -cast. Over the wreck of chosen thoughts and blighted hopes, through -the anguish of susceptibilities which refinement and culture have made -capacious of suffering of which under natures are incapable, shalt thou -glorify me.” Yet how many a short-sighted onlooker at that day, unable -to appreciate the inward motive, judged him who remained as shrinking -from the reproach of the Cross and wresting the Scriptures to suit a -carnal policy and the love of ease. - -Let us view this principle in yet another light. In a distant apartment -of the same castle is seated one whose features, though of a stronger -and sterner cast, browned by toils and exposure on fields of battle, -still bear that family resemblance which denotes them brothers. But -his limbs are cast in nature’s stronger mould, and his hand turns -naturally to the sword hilt. Upon his knees is a bundle of letters that -he peruses with eager interest. They are from the exiles in Holland, -informing him of the time of their departure, and urging him to join -them. And among the letters are some from his old companions in the -war of the low countries. Wrapped in thought the hours pass by him -unheeded. At length, rising suddenly to his feet and thrusting open -the door that leads to the great hall of the castle, he paces the -stone floor. His eye kindles as it glances over the portraits of grim -warriors and the proud trappings that adorn its walls. He stops in his -lofty stride, a frown gathers upon his brow, his hand grips to the hilt -of the sword at his side. He has made up his mind. His is the giant -strength and haughty pride of an heroic line. Retiring to his chamber, -he likewise kneels to pray, while the frown of anticipated conflicts -and the flush of stirring memories have scarce yet faded from his brow. -But there is no tremor in the hard tones of his voice, none of those -bitter tears that wet the pillow of the other fall from his eyes. There -is no breaking down of the strong man before Him who is stronger than -the strong man armed. But he prays like Henry the Fifth at Agincourt -or Bruce at Bannockburn. To carry his point he prays “my will be done” -with the spirit of those who inscribed upon the muzzles of their -cannon, “O Lord, open thou my lips; and my mouth shall shew forth thy -praise.” - -This man has condescended to help God. Through the long tempestuous -voyage, those fearful months of mingled famine and plague when the -icy breath of winter penetrated even to the pillows of the dying, and -the Pilgrims drove the ploughshare through the graves of those most -dear to them lest the savage should count the dead and ascertain their -weakness, he passed unbroken. Neither hunger nor sickness bows his -iron frame nor breaks his haughty spirit, and yet, unknown to himself, -he is all the while wresting the truths of Scripture, and deems he is -doing the will of God while he is consulting his own inclinations. Is -the discipline of Providence therefore to waste itself upon this rugged -nature, only to be repelled like the surf from the rock, in broken -wreaths of foam? Will he never become as a little child that he may -enter into the kingdom? - -Yes. His daughter is dying. The daughter, the only remaining member of -a once numerous household, whom he loves with an affection the more -absorbing since he loves nothing else, to whom he has given the scanty -morsel suffering hunger himself, whom he pressed to his bosom in the -long nights of that terrible winter that she might gather warmth from -his hardier frame, and around whom cluster all the affections that -throb beneath the crust of his rugged nature, as the oak wrappeth its -roots about the place of stones,--that daughter is dying. Though it -is now the Indian summer and an abundant harvest has scattered plenty -among the dwellings of the exiles, his daughter is perishing beneath -the terrible exposure she has endured. Upon her delicate frame the -previous winter and spring have done their work. Stretched upon a couch -of skins, she is fading like the yellow and falling leaves that the -forest is showering upon the roof, and the morning breeze is gathering -in little heaps around the threshold of the rude cabin. The strong man -has met one stronger than himself. The arrow aimed by no uncertain hand -has found the joints of the harness. A sweet smile begotten of that -peace of God, which passeth all understanding, mingles with the hectic -flush on her cheek; and as he watches the ebbing tide of life, every -sigh of pain, every frown that furrows the pale brow, wrung from her by -the agony of dissolution, shakes his iron frame. But it is suffering, -not submission. She lifts her finger, and he is at her side, takes her -head upon his broad shoulder, and his war-worn cheek is pressed to -hers, while the golden locks mingle with his white hairs like sunbeams -reposing upon a fleecy cloud, as he listens to her low speech. - -“Father, I must soon leave thee.” A hot tear falling on her cheek is -the only reply. “Father,” she says, laying her thin finger upon a -yellow leaf that an eddy of the wind just then blew in at the open door -upon the bed, “I am like this leaf, almost at my journey’s end.” - -“I know it, my child,” is the low answer. - -“Canst thou give me up?” - -“I cannot give thee up. Not a drop of my blood flows in any living -being but in thee, the blood of a noble race. I had thought that in -this new soil, transplanted, the old oak might flourish with renewed -strength; but over thee, the dearest and the last, is creeping the -shadow of the grave. My sons died a soldier’s death, and I mourned -them as a soldier should. Thy mother I married as the great marry, for -reasons of state and policy, but thou with thy gentle ways hast knit -thyself into my very heart, and I must lay thee in a nameless grave, -and conceal it from the Indian’s gaze, while thy kindred sleep beneath -sculptured marble and the shadow of proud banner folds. Thine uncle who -thought to take the journey with us flinched when it came to the trial, -while I have faced pestilence, treachery, and war. Surely I have borne -a heavy cross, and thus am I rewarded. God is too hard with me. He has -no right to bereave me in my old age of the only being I ever truly -loved.” - -“Father, whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth.” - -“Dear child, torture me not thus or I shall go mad.” - -“No, father, but thou wilt go mad if, in this desperate sorrow, thou -dost not win Heaven’s grace. If thy heart does not break in penitence, -thy brain will reel in madness. Father, dear father, it becomes me -to seek knowledge of thy gray hairs, and thou art esteemed by all a -man of shrewd counsel. But to those who, like me, are on the brink of -eternity, there is given a knowledge not of earth, and through these -weak lips the spirit speaks. Deceive not thyself. Thou hast as yet -borne no cross, but thou hast wrested the Scriptures. May it not be to -thine own destruction. Thy spirit could not brook oppression, and, as -thou couldst not resist, so hast thou fled from it. The perils of exile -and the stormy seas were less terrible to thee than the foot of the -oppressor on thy neck. Thou wast bred amid the alarms and in the bloody -frays of the border wars; thou hast loved the clash of steel, and the -smoke of battle is as the breath of thy nostrils. Thou hast been a -man of blood from thy youth up. My uncle was bred a scholar amid home -delights, unused to scenes of trial and hardship. They had terrors for -him, whereas they had none for thee. And yet he would have gladly come -with us had he not been forbidden of Heaven. I heard him pleading with -God to make known to him his duty. That which would have been to him a -real cross but was none to thee he was willing to take up. But God has -laid upon him a weightier one at home. Thus hast thou prayed to have -thine own way, hast suffered in accordance with thine own will, not the -will of God. The cross, the real cross, is now before thee. Wilt thou -take it up? If thou dost not do this, father, whither I go thou canst -not come. For nineteen years thou hast anticipated my slightest wish. -Wilt thou now refuse my last request? I, a timid maid, a daughter of -affluence and luxury, who had never listened to a harsher sound than -the murmur of Derwent-Water over the rocky bed and the breath of morn -among the hills, have broken every tie, torn from my heart the youth -I loved, because he stood between me and Christ, encountered perils -before which warriors quail, for the love of Jesus. I have drunk of the -bitter cup, but the cross has brought me to the crown. I see it. It -glitters in the hand of Christ. Soon it shall press my brow. Never in -the flush of youth and love in my early home did I know such joy as in -this savage wilderness, this rude hut, and at this dying hour fills my -soul. So will the cross bring thee to the crown. Dear father, wilt thou -not say, ’Thy will be done’?” - -The words died upon her lips like the murmur of distant music. Her -head which in the last energies of expiring nature she had raised from -his shoulder fell back, and she passed away even on his bosom. The red -light of morning fell on that still cold face on which the strong -man’s tears were showering like the summer rain, but they were tears -of submission. In that midnight vigil he had lived years, had fathomed -the difference between doing the will of God when it suited and when it -crossed his inclination, between wresting and wrenching the Scriptures -into conformity with a haughty spirit and bringing that spirit into -obedience to the truth; between making a cross to suit ourselves and -then bearing it in our own strength and for our own glory, and taking -up that which Christ places before us. - -Are we, my dear friends, wresting the Scriptures, picking and choosing -among the commands of God, and obeying only those that run parallel -with our inclinations? Have you gone just so far in obeying the -commands of God as fashion and the custom of your acquaintances would -go and stopped short when duty became self-denial? Have you done just -as little for Christ as you thought could in any way consist with a -fair profession in the eyes of the world, and have you gone just as -far in the pleasures of the world as you in your judgment might go and -still escape the fate of the unbeliever? - -Some persons wrest the Scriptures with a rude force, a noisy and -destructive violence, denying the existence and attributes of their -Maker, and are open scoffers and unbelievers; but others with a silent, -imperceptible force, unperceived even by themselves, and silent as -the power of frost which lifts the whole northern continent upon its -shoulders. Their morality, Christian culture, urbanity of deportment, -earnestness in defence of sound doctrine, private and public charities, -are not grounded on a new heart, but proceed from other motives; -force of education, the restraints of society, the love of a sect, -connection of religion with some political opinion, and not from the -spirit of love to Christ which it breathes; they spring from the desire -to be reconciled to God by something less galling to the pride of the -human heart than unconditional surrender. My friends, receiving the -doctrines of Scripture without obeying their requirements is a plain -and palpable wresting of the Scriptures. You believe there is a God -whose hand rules the universe, yet you have never bent the knee to ask -for His direction or to thank Him for the mercies He has bestowed. You -believe that you must strive to enter in at the strait gate, yet you -have never striven. You believe that when a person feels in his soul -the strivings of the Holy Spirit directing him to God, he ought, if he -would be saved, to fall in with and supplement them by his own efforts. -You have felt these strivings, yet you have never lifted a finger to -help yourselves. Is not this holding the truth in unrighteousness? - -Delay is wresting the Scriptures. God saith, “Now is the accepted -time.” Unbelief says, “Will not another time do just as well?” God -says, “To-day if you will hear his voice.” Procrastination says, “Will -not to-morrow do as well?” God says, “You know not what a day may bring -forth.” The careless hearer says, “To-morrow shall be as this day and -much more abundant.” Thus you think one thing and do another. This is -not the way to live, and certainly it is not the way to die. Remove, I -entreat you by faith and repentance, this strange discrepancy between -faith and practice. - -[Illustration: INTERIOR VIEW OF ELIJAH KELLOGG’S CHURCH AT HARPSWELL, -MAINE.] - - - - -THE BEAUTY OF THE AUTUMN - -[From a sermon to Bowdoin Students, October, 1889.] - - -Autumn is a most beautiful and joyous season of the year; more so even -than spring. The winds are low, and rich with a solemn music. The days -are clear and bright and have an element of assurance that pertains not -to the changeful skies of April. The air is bracing and salubrious. The -drapery of nature is gorgeous with the blended beauty of infinite hues. -The crimson and scarlet of the oaks, the bright yellow of the birch, -the bluish green of the willows contrasted with the brown and orange -of the soil and rocks, are all radiant in the sunlight and the keen -frosty air. The rich yellow of the corn bursting from the husk, the -loaded stalks swaying heavily in the October wind, all combine to form -a picture more beautiful, far more satisfactory, than spring presents. -Spring is the season of hope, yet it is hope deferred. Many unforeseen -casualties may destroy the crop before it is ripe for the sickle. But -harvest is hope realized. It is the time of taking possession. - -Thus it is with the servant of God. The autumn of his life is more -glorious than its spring. That was hope; this is reality. Then a long -road beset with perils lay before him; now they have been passed. -Notwithstanding his trials, life has been sweet. It has not been -altogether toil. He has beheld with open sense this glorious world -and appreciated what the Creator has done for the happiness of his -creatures. The song of birds, the breath of flowers, the majesty of -seas, and the grandeur of mountains and of forests, the hope of spring, -the beauty of summer, and the sweet companionship of kindred hearts, -have all been his. But now he is to possess the source of all that so -delighted him. He is to grasp that unseen hand that led him when he -knew it not, and held the tangled thread of his daily life. He is to -exchange the stream for the fountain, the sunbeam for the sun itself. -The journey has not been without much of profit and pleasure, and the -heart of the wayfarer has been cheered by messages from loved ones, but -he would rather be at home. He who made the flower is lovelier than -the flower. He who gave the grace doth the grace exceed. To sow the -seed and watch its growth has been a hopeful labor, but it is better -to bind the sheaves. Rich are the fading splendors of the autumn and -gorgeous the dyes in which the Almighty has decked the departing year. -Sweet the murmur of autumnal winds among the falling leaves mingling -with the deeper cadence of the streams. But a brighter glory illumines -the autumn of life that has been spent with God and for God. What -language shall describe, what figures worthily set forth, the maturity -of a soul that in these days of secular knowledge and Gospel privilege -has gathered to itself, with a sanctified avarice, all that God has -taught in the mighty utterances of nature and the clearer revelation of -His word, that has laid art and science under contribution and grappled -to every opportunity of intellectual and spiritual growth, that by -trial has been refined, and by blessings quickened to a higher measure -of gratitude and love. - -Permit one united to you by the college tie to which time only adds -intensity and depth, who has travelled over the path your feet are -now pressing, who has reached that period of life when the tissue -of the dream robe has fallen and when dreams unchilled by truth no -longer minister that maddening fuel to the feverish blood, permit one -to inquire if you are laying the foundations for such a maturity as -has been described. You are living in a day that affords opportunity -and likewise compels responsibility. Inspired by such sentiments, -using aright your splendid opportunities and holding yourself true to -your great responsibilities, may you resemble trees planted by living -waters. May you be enrolled among the inhabitants of the city that hath -foundations built by God on the banks of that river - - “Whose sapphire crested waves in glory roll - O’er golden sands, and die upon the shore in music.” - - - - -THE ANCHOR OF HOPE - - [From a sermon preached at the Second Parish church, Portland, Maine, - on Sunday, August 5, 1900, “Old Home Week.”] - -Hebrews vi. 19. “_Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both -sure and steadfast, and which entereth into that within the veil._” - - -The apostle declares that the relation of a hope in Christ to the soul -is the same as that of the anchor to the ship. - -The value of an anchor in emergencies is well known. A large ship -filled with passengers is making her passage in midwinter across the -western ocean. As she strikes soundings the weather thickens. The wind -is easterly; the gale increases; the sea makes; snow begins to fall; -and no pilot is to be found. But confident, too confident, of his -ability, the master, unwilling to lie off, runs into the narrow channel -of Boston Bay. The gale increases; the snow thickens. Sail after sail -is taken in until the ship under short canvas can no longer hold her -own, but makes leeway continually. Suddenly arises the cry, “Breakers -to leeward! Breakers to leeward!” and the seamen behold the long, black -line of ragged rocks and the white surf that breaks upon them, where -the strongest ship becomes in a few moments like the chips and bark -that fell from her timbers in framing. - -There is now but one resource. Canvas can do no more. The navigator’s -expedients are exhausted. There is but one hope left to cling to. The -anchor may bring her up. With the skill and energy of men working for -their own lives and the lives of those dependent upon their exertions, -the ship is brought to and the anchors are let go. The ship trembles as -fathom after fathom of massive chain is jerked through the hawse-holes. -The fire flies from the iron folds that encircle the windlass, and, as -she comes up to that terrific sea breaking mountains high, taking it -over both shoulders and filling her whole waist with water, pitching -and wallowing till every stick seems about ready to go out of her, and -the windlass itself to be carried into the bows, anxious eyes look -ahead at the seas and astern at the breakers. A cry is heard: “She -drags! She drags! The surf is bringing the anchors home! They won’t -hold!” Every cheek grows pale and strong men tremble. - -Presently there is another cry: “Now she holds! She holds! The anchors -have got her!” And men who have not spoken together during the voyage -embrace each other for joy. The last link of scope is given; the chains -are weather-bitted; the slatting canvas is furled; the yards are -sharpened to the wind, and then she lies in that tremendous surf, whose -pitiless diapason drowns every other sound--two hundred souls depending -for life upon the links of those chains and the strength and clutch of -those anchors. - -Thus with the soul of man. Without the Christian hope it is a ship -without an anchor, adrift on a stormy sea, at the mercy of its own -passions, the temptations of life, and the wiles of the devil. These -are the tempests which the soul must meet and struggle with; and, -destitute of the gospel anchor, it must make shipwreck of faith and a -good conscience. - -The anchor is the seaman’s last resort. He has many expedients with -which to battle and make head against the tempest, but when all other -methods fail, then the anchor must bring her up or she is lost. - -Thus the Christian, when all other expedients fail, when his own -strength is but weakness, flings himself upon the mercy of God, and -moors head and stern to the eternal promise and the covenants of grace. - -“Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, -and which entereth into that within the veil.” - -Many a good ship has been lost, not because her anchors were -insufficient and her ground tackle poor, not because they were not -thrown clear and the ship properly secured to them, but because -the holding ground was bad,--a smooth ledge, a soft mud, or loose -sand,--insomuch that the anchors either slip over or cut through, and -the seaman must perish without any fault of his own. In other places is -found a soft mud or gravel upon the surface and beneath a strong clay, -into which the anchor beds itself so sure and steadfast that no wind -or sea will bring it home--the best of holding ground. Such anchorages -are highly prized by seafaring men; they will beat up many a mile to -windward to gain an anchor in them. - -Thus the anchor of the soul is both sure and steadfast, because as -the anchor of the ship goes through the surface mud into the deep, -tenacious clay, it entereth into that within the veil. - -The Holy of Holies, the most sacred place in the Jewish temple, was -concealed by a veil, which was rent in twain at the crucifixion. That -event was typical of those inward spiritual truths which are revealed -to the believer by Christ, and in which his hope consists. The promises -of grace and the inward witness of the spirit that he is an heir of -those promises through faith in Christ are the holding ground of the -believers’ anchor, where once bedded it is sure and steadfast. - -These are inward spiritual joys of which the believer cannot be -deprived except by his own remissness and the letting down of the -anchor watch. These promises were the anchor of the apostle’s -experience. A rough, stormy life was his--almost always on a lee shore -and among the breakers. Very little smooth water did he see, for in -every city bonds and imprisonment awaited him; but he had on board -the gospel anchor, and shackled to it the chain of a rich and deep -experience. The bitter end of that chain was clinched around the riding -bits of his soul; and he had no fear that the anchor would come home or -the chain part that moored him to it, and he could say: “O death, where -is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?” - -Life is the sea; the soul is the vessel; the grace, gifts, and -experience of the soul make up the priceless cargo with which the ship -is freighted. Heaven is the harbor all hope to make. The temptations, -labor, and afflictions of life are the tempests we must encounter. It -is a stormy sea and a wintry passage. You need good ground tackle and -good holding ground. Have you them? If not, it is from negligence, not -necessity. It is, my friend, because you have not bestirred yourself to -take hold of the promises of grace that have been pressed upon you. - - - - -PRAYER OFFERED ON MEMORIAL DAY (May 30, 1883) AT BRUNSWICK, MAINE - - -O Thou who art equally supreme in the moral and the material universe, -guiding the sea-bird to her nest amid the blinding snows, the breaker’s -foam, and the driving mist of ocean, who makest small the drops of -rain, and a way for the lightning of thunder, and the thing that is hid -bringest forth to light, we adore thy power and thy wisdom; we magnify -thy grace; we hallow thy name. With penitence we confess our manifold -transgressions as individuals and as a nation. Holiness belongeth unto -Thee, but unto us shame and confusion of faces. - -We thank Thee that Thou didst direct our forefathers to these shores, -and inspire them with purpose and wisdom to form a civil compact built -upon the principles of religion, education, law, and labor. We thank -Thee that, in the face of famine, pestilence, and relentless foes, -they accomplished their purpose, and with a spirit of self-sacrifice -worthy of the cause, devoted themselves as stepping stones to bridge -the path of future generations that they might create a republic, lay -the foundations of civil liberty, resist oppression, and seal their -devotion to their principles with their blood. We thank Thee that -though they have passed away, their principles have survived, and -that when the republic they had reared was rocking to its foundations, -assailed by foes without and treachery within, their children did -not prove unworthy of the sires who begat them, nor recreant to the -principles they drew in with their mothers’ milk and were taught at -their fathers’ knees. We thank Thee that they were equally ready to -vindicate at the cannon’s mouth and maintain with property or life the -principles of civil and religious liberty, and the inalienable right of -every man to the fruit of his own labor. - -We pray Thee that, on this day, set apart by the Executive of the -nation as a day of grateful remembrance, we may appreciate the true -nature of the perils we have escaped and acknowledge our indebtedness -to the providence of that Being who ruleth over the affairs of nations. -May we not in our prosperity forget those dark hours when all faces -gathered blackness. May we not merely decorate the graves, but may we -ever cherish with affectionate remembrance our obligations to those -whose courage mounted in proportion to the imminence of the danger, -and who approved their loyalty with their blood. May we not on this -day fraught with associations so sad to those whose wounds, partially -healed, are this day reopened, forget the fatherless whose parents -sleep in bloody graves, and the widows whom this day reminds of all -they have lost, and the aged parents from whom war took the support -of their declining years. We commit these to thy care and keeping; we -commit unto Thee all those who suffered and sacrificed that the Union -might be preserved. And we thank Thee for the comfort of a vast army -come back from the deadly uproar of arms to take up again the unheroic -duties of life, and strive by honest living to maintain the principles -they fought to defend. - -We pray for thy blessing upon thy servant. May he be enabled to expound -and enforce those principles which lie at the foundation of social -happiness and free institutions; those principles which have made this -republic, which a little more than a century ago was a mere shrub with -bare shade sufficient to cover its roots, to become a tree that hath -sent forth its roots to the sea and its branches to the rivers, and on -whose foliage the sunlight loves to linger, and on whose branches the -dew of heaven lieth all night.--AMEN. - - - - -VERSE - - -FROM “THE PHANTOMS OF THE MIND” - - [First printed in _Bowdoin Portfolio_, September, 1839.] - - - I would not be a fragile flower - To languish in a lady’s bower, - A silken thing of texture rare - That fears to meet God’s blessed air; - My life a water, stagnant, low, - Without an ebb, without a flow; - Chained like a captive to his oar - To toil on, on, forevermore! - And supplicate with frantic cry - For the “poor privilege to die”; - A smooth-faced boy, a harmless thing, - A kitten playing with a string, - A child without, a brute within, - Without e’en energy to sin. - Not thus, when erst that iron race - From whom our birth we proudly trace, - No sculptured arras decked the bed - Whereon reposed the patriot’s head; - Nor proud device or motto wore - Those stern-faced men that lived of yore - In the good days of “auld lang syne,” - When liberty, a feeble vine, - Lay bruised and trailing on the ground, - Nor yet a single trellis found; - Gently they reared its drooping crest, - They bade its tendrils twine, - And many a traveller since hath blessed - The shadow of that vine. - - -THE DEMON OF THE SEA - - [First printed in _Bowdoin Portfolio_, November, 1839.] - - - Ah! tell me not of your shady dells, - Where the lilies gleam and the fountain wells, - Where the reaper rests when his task is o’er, - And the lake-wave sobs on the verdant shore, - And the rustic maid with a heart all free, - Hies to the well-known trysting-tree; - For I’m the god of the rolling sea, - And the charms of earth are nought to me. - O’er the thundering chime of the breaking surge, - On the lightning’s wing my course I urge, - On the thrones of foam right joyous ride - ’Mid the sullen dash of the angry tide. - I hear ye tell of music’s power, - The rapture of a sigh, - When beauty in her wizard bower - Unveils her languid eye. - Of those who die in rugged fight - And battling for their country’s right - With the shivered brand in the “red right hand,” - And the plaudits of a rescued land. - Ye never knew the infernal fire, - The withering curse, the scorching ire, - That rages, maddens in the breast - Of him who rules the billow’s crest. - Heard ye that last despairing yell - That wailed Creation’s funeral knell, - When young and old, the vile, the brave, - Were circled in one common grave? - While on my ear of driving foam - By moaning whirlwinds sped, - O’er what _was_ joyous earth I roam, - And trample on the dead. - This is the music that my ear - Thrills with stern ecstasy to hear! - I love to view some lonely bark, - The sport of storms, the lightning’s mark, - Scarce struggling through the fresh’ning wave - That foams and yawns to be her grave! - I saw a son and father fight - For a drifting spar their lives to save; - The son he throttled his father gray, - And tore the spar from his clutch away, - Till he sank beneath the wave; - And deemed it were a noble sight. - I saw upon a shattered wreck - All swinging at the tempest’s beck, - A mother lone, whose frenzied eye - Wandered in hopeless agony - O’er that vast plain where naught was seen, - The ocean and the sky between, - And there all buried to the breast - In the hungry surf that round her prest-- - With feeble arms, in anguish wild, - High o’er her head she raised her child, - Endured of winds and waves the strife, - To add a unit to its life. - - I whelmed that infant in the sea - To add a pang to her misery, - And the wretched mother’s frantic yell - Came o’er me like a soothing spell! - Are ye so haughty in your pride, - To deem of all the earth beside - That yours are fields and fragrant flowers, - And lute-like voices in your bowers, - And gold and gems of priceless worth, - And all the glory of the earth? - Ah, mean is all your pageantry - To that proud, fadeless blazonry, - That waves in scathless beauty free - Beneath the blue, old rolling sea! - For there are flowers that wither not, - And leaves that never fall, - Immortal forms in each wild grot, - Still bright and changeless all. - Decay is not on beauty’s bloom, - No canker in the rose, - No prescience of a future doom - To mar the sweet repose-- - There Proteus’ changeful form is seen, - And Triton winds his shell, - While through old Ocean’s valleys green, - The tuneful echoes swell. - But though a Demon rightly named, - For terror more than mercy famed,-- - Yet demons e’en respect the power - That nerves the heart in danger’s hour. - And when the veteran of a hundred storms, - Whom many a wild midnight - I’ve girded with a thousand startling forms - Of terror and affright,-- - When tempests roar and hell-fiends scream, - The thunders crash, the lightnings gleam, - ’Mid biting cold and driving hail - Still grasps the helm, still trims the sail, - Nor deigns to utter coward cries, - But as he lived, so fearless dies,-- - Mingles his last faint, bubbling sigh - With the pealing tempest’s banner-cry;-- - Then winds are hushed, the billow falls - Where storms were wont to be, - As I bear him to the untrodden halls - Of the deep unfathomed sea! - Now Triton sends a mournful strain - Through all that vast profound,-- - At once a bright immortal train - Comes thronging at the sound. - And on a shining pearly car - They place the honored dust, - And Ocean’s chargers gently bear - Along the sacred trust, - While far o’er all the glassy plain - By mighty Neptune led, - In sadness moves that funeral train,-- - Thus Ocean wails her dead! - And now the watch of life is past, - The shattered hulk is moored at last, - Nor e’en the tempest’s thrilling breath - Can wake “the dull, cold ear of death.” - No bitter thoughts of home and loved ones dart - Their untold anguish through the seaman’s heart. - - Peaceful be thy slumbers, brother, - There’s no prouder grave for thee, - Well may pine for thee a mother, - Flower of ocean’s chivalry! - - -PORTLAND - - Still may I love, beloved of thee, - My own fair city of the sea! - Where moulders back to kindred dust - The mother who my childhood nurst, - And strove, with ill-requited toil, - To till a rough, ungrateful soil; - Yet kindly spared by Heaven to know - That Faith’s reward is sure, though slow, - And see the prophet’s mantle grace - The rudest scion of her race. - - And while around thy seaward shore - The Atlantic doth its surges pour, - (Those verdant isles, thy bosom-gems) - May Temples be thy diadems; - Spire after spire in beauty rise, - Still pointing upward to the skies, - Unwritten sermons, and rebukes of love, - To point thy toiling throngs to worlds above. - - -AN ODE - - [Written for the Semi-centennial Celebration at Bowdoin College, - August 31, 1852.] - - - From waves that break to break again, - From winds that die to gather might, - How pleasant on the stormy main - Appears the sailor’s native height. - - And sweet, I ween, the graceful tears - That glisten in the wand’rer’s eye, - As haunts and homes of early years - Begemmed with morning’s dewdrops lie. - - Borne on the fragrant breath of morn, - His lazy vessel stems the tide - Among the fields of waving corn - That nestle on the river’s side. - - His mother’s cottage through the leaves - Gleams like a rainbow seen at night, - While all the visions fancy weaves - Are stirring at the well-known sight. - - But sweeter memories cluster here - Than ever stirred a seaman’s breast, - Than e’er provoked his grateful tear, - Or wooed the mariner to rest. - - ’Twas here our life of life began-- - The spirit felt its dormant power; - ’Twas here the child became a man-- - The opening bud became a flower. - - And from Niagara’s distant roar - And homes beside the heaving sea, - Rank upon rank thy children pour, - And gather to thy Jubilee. - - On these old trees each nestling leaf, - The murmur of yon flowing stream, - Has power to stir a buried grief, - Or to recall some youthful dream. - - Each path that skirts the tangled wood, - Or winds amidst its secret maze, - Worn by the feet of those we loved, - Brings back the forms of other days. - - Of those whose smile was heaven to thee, - Whose voice a richer music made - Than brooks that murmur to the sea, - Or birds that warble in the shade. - - Around these ancient altar fires - We cluster with a joyous heart, - While ardent youth and hoary sires - Alike sustain a grateful part. - - -A HYMN - - [Written for the Celebration of the Twenty-eighth Anniversary of the - Boston Seaman’s Friend Society, at Music Hall, Boston, May 28, 1856.] - - - I was not reared where heaves the swell - Of surf on coasts remote and drear, - But grew with roses, in a dell, - And waked with bird-notes in my ear. - - Glad hours on golden pinions sped, - As folded to her throbbing breast, - A mother’s lips their fragrance shed, - And lulled me with a prayer to rest. - - The red has faded from my cheek, - And bronzed and scarred the boyish face; - Affection’s eye might vainly seek - One lingering lineament to trace. - - Shipwrecked, the Sailor’s Home I sought, - My raiment gone, my shipmates dead, - Through poverty reluctant brought, - And there a sober life I led. - - But when the evening prayer was said, - It brought the unaccustomed tear, - A mother’s hand was on my head, - Her voice was thrilling in mine ear. - - Old memories waked that long had slept, - They forced the spirit’s brazen crust; - I wept and prayed, I prayed and wept, - Till anguish ripened into trust. - - Blest be the hands that reared thy dome - The wandering seaman’s step to greet; - Guiding the homeless to a home, - And sinners to a mercy-seat. - - -TRUE POETRY’S TASK - - When first the human clay, instinct with thought, - Doth feel the motions of those hidden fires - That by a subtle alchemy sublime - The crude contexture of its grosser powers, - It is not life--rather capacity - Of life and power hereafter to be given. - Life lies beyond us, as an Orphic tale - Of things mysterious and dimly seen, - A gorgeous phantom, but a phantom still - That ever is, and ever is without. - We dwell amid the border flowers that bloom - To bless and cheer life’s brier-planted paths, - Its dusty turnpikes, and its scorching noons; - And thus our primal being is a dream - And most mysterious to the dreamer, - E’en as the dim and iron forms that frown - From the dark walls of some old corridor - On which the moonbeams thro’ the crumbling towers - Bestow expression and inform with life - Delicious but delight indefinite. - The finer tissues of that wondrous web - That doth so strangely link spirit to sense - Matter to mind, are all unwoven yet; - Those subtle telegraphs that make report - Of outward action to the inward life - Still in the secret caves of being sleep. - The soul is conscious of no other tie - To nature than to love its beauty - And with an open sense luxuriate - In woods and fields with animal delight. - For as the sturdy trunk and massive limbs - Of the gigantic oak, lie deftly hid - Within the acorn’s small periphery, - Till in the pregnant bosom of the earth, - Warmed by the sun, moistened with summer dews, - It bursts its coffin and leaps forth to light; - Thus when the soul is in its progress brought, - Led on by nature’s genial processes, - To touch reality and outward life, - There is a stirring, from its inmost depths, - Of yearning thoughts and deathless energies, - Seeking the outward vesture that confers - A definite existence and a form. - Strong roots shoot forth and fibres more minute - That by mysterious alchemy impart - Substance to shadow, breath to lifeless forms. - Life is no more a pageant to admire; - Since with a yearning for a higher life, - The power to struggle, and the thirst to know, - Awakes a bitter principle to sin, - Breeding intestine war and conflict fierce, - Till powers are marshalled in the mind itself - That with itself chaotic warfare wage. - Henceforth man’s life is conflict, and his doom - By conflict to grow stronger, to contend - From the rude cross within some Alpine gorge - To the proud blazon of ancestral tombs. - In eastern myths and Christian chronicles, - In heathen temples, and in holy shrines - The same stern truth is graven on them all-- - That conflict only doth ennoble man. - But man is not sufficient to himself - In this great conflict, therefore God has given - A twofold revelation to his faith. - Subjective, one to reason makes appeal; - The other to the grosser sense explains - Stern truths by most persuasive images, - Graving dread mandates on the shifting clouds, - Weaving of wild flowers and of foliage green - A genial symbol for a genial faith. - This is the task to Poetry assigned: - Of life divine to be the messenger. - As to the sorrow-stricken soul of him - Who knelt and prayed in lone Gethsemane - The angel choir did gently minister, - E’en thus true Poetry doth nerve the soul - Upon its Alpine passage to commune - With truths that quicken and with thoughts that stir. - It is the soul’s sheet-anchor in the strife. - -[Illustration: ELIJAH KELLOGG AT EIGHTY-SIX. - -1899.] - - - - -MISCELLANEOUS - - -MEMORIES OF LONGFELLOW - - - TOPSHAM, MAINE, February 10, 1885. - - EDITORS OF THE ORIENT: - -_Dear Sirs_,--I have received your note requesting me to furnish -some reminiscences of Longfellow. I would say in reply that although -yielding to no one in my admiration of the character and genius of -Mr. Longfellow or regard for his memory, I still feel quite unable to -contribute anything that would meet your expectations or serve your -purpose, from the fact that my knowledge of him began and to a large -extent closed in very early youth before his powers had developed. -Nevertheless, as everything even remotely connected with him or his is -valued and treasured, I will endeavor to comply with your request. - -Hon. Stephen Longfellow, the father of Henry, was a friend of my -father’s and resided near us. Judge Potter, the father of the poet’s -first wife, lived almost directly opposite to us; and in an adjoining -house a sister of the late Eben Steele taught a school which I attended -with two of the daughters of Judge Potter and other children. The -Potter children, being the nearest neighbors, were my playmates. I can -see them now with their little blue aprons and happy faces. There was -something very attractive in the expression of Mary Potter’s features, -the future wife of the poet. It remains as fresh in my recollection -to-day as it was then. I used to hear a great deal about angels, but -cherished very incoherent ideas in regard to them, and one evening when -my mother was teaching me a hymn, the conclusion of which was:-- - - “May angels guard me while I sleep - Till morning light appears,” - -I astonished her by asking if Mary Potter was not an angel. - -Though she was quiet and retiring, it made one happy to be in her -society; and she enjoyed fun as well as the rest of us, only in a more -quiet way. One morning there was a platform laid around the pump in -the schoolyard and a man employed to paint it red. On going to dinner -he put his paint-pot and brush under the edge of the platform where -we discovered it. The Potters wore red morocco shoes and I wore black -ones. Some other children who rejoiced in red shoes were very proud of -them, which excited my envy. I painted my own and the shoes of several -others a staring red, and we strutted among our mates with great -satisfaction, which, however, was somewhat abated upon the arrival of -the schoolmistress. - -It was the custom at that time in Portland to send children to the -Academy very soon after leaving the primary school, and there I first -met Henry Longfellow; but he was a large boy fitting for college, and I -was a little one. I can therefore only give you the impression made (by -his habits and bearing) upon the mind of a boisterous boy who had with -him nothing in common. But I recollect perfectly the impression made -upon myself and others by his deportment, and from these impressions -draw the inferences I communicate. He was a very handsome boy, retiring -without being reserved; there was no chill in his manners. There was -a frankness about him that won you at once; he looked you square in -the face. His eyes were full of expression, and it seemed as if you -could look down into them as into a clear spring. There were many -rough boys in the school, a great deal of horse-play and a good many -rough-and-tumble games at recess, and the boys who were not inclined to -engage in them often excited the ill-will of their ruder mates who were -prone to imagine that the former felt above them. As a result the quiet -boys sometimes fell victims to this feeling and were dragged out and -rudely treated. But no one ever thought of taking such liberties with -Longfellow, nor did such suspicions ever attach to him. Not even John -Bartels or John Goddard ever meddled with him. I think John Goddard -expressed the common sentiment of the school when, after some boy had -remarked upon Longfellow’s retiring habits, he exclaimed: “Oh, let him -alone. He don’t belong to our breed of cats.” He had no relish for -rude sports, but he loved to bathe in a little creek on the border of -Deering’s Oaks. And he would sometimes tramp through the woods with -a gun; but this was mostly through the influence of others. He loved -much better to lie under a tree and read. Small boys think it a great -affair to tag after larger ones, especially if the larger ones carry -guns, and I have often picked up the dead squirrels that he and others -used to shoot in the oaks. And he and John Kinsman or Edward Preble -would boost me into a tree to shake off acorns for them. - -His early associations were very strong, and as is the fact in respect -to most of us, they strengthened with age and cropped out everywhere -in his verse. One familiar with the scenes and events of his youth can -readily trace to their source the allusions in many of his verses. It -was doubtless after gathering the mayflower on some half-holiday or -tramping through the woods that, as he lay beneath some one of those -old oaks on the verge of the forest, with limbs thirty feet in length -within reach of the hand, and looked up through the branches and -watched the clouds go by, he received those impressions which took form -in the following lines:-- - - “Pleasant it was when woods were green - And winds were soft and low, - To lie amid some sylvan scene, - Where the long drooping boughs between - Shadows dark and sunlight sheen - Alternate come and go.” - -Though Longfellow was a thoughtful, he certainly was not a melancholy -boy, and the minor key to which so much of his verse is attuned, and -that tinge of sadness which his countenance wore in later years, were -due to that first great sorrow which came upon him in the loss of -her to whom I have referred, and which was chiselled still deeper by -subsequent trials. He never buried her, and that beautiful tribute to -her memory in the “Footsteps of Angels” is as true as tender. - -He was ever ready to extend a helping hand to others. After leaving -school we took different paths and never met again till 1870, when I -received a communication from him through Mr. James T. Fields, saying -that he had kept run of me and wished me to call upon him at a time -fixed by him. I went and was most cordially received. I asked him how -he had kept run of me. He replied through his brother Alexander, his -sister Mrs. Pierce, and Mr. James Greenleaf, his brother-in-law, an -intimate friend and later schoolmate of mine. We reviewed the past, -and almost the first question he asked in relation to it was about the -scholars in that Academy, and he mentioned almost every name but the -one I knew was most dear to him. This is what led me to say that he -never buried her. - -But what a change in that care-worn face, marked with the deep lines -of thought and sorrow, from the smooth-cheeked boy of my early -recollections, unconscious of care and to whom the future was rainbow -tinted and full of hope. The eyes, however, had not lost their wonted -expression, and the same sweet smile was on his lips, and he encouraged -me in the kindest manner to continue in the course I had just then -commenced, in words that it does not become me to repeat, but which -will never be forgotten. And from that time to his death I found that -neither success nor sorrow had narrowed the sympathies or chilled the -heart of Henry Longfellow. - - - - -BEN BOLT - - -Some time since, in the story of a wasted life, we depicted the results -of intemperance and the terrible grasp which this vice fastens upon its -victims, alas, but seldom broken. Lest our young readers should be left -to imagine that reformation is hopeless, we will relate the story of -Ben Bolt. - -Ben Bolt was an English sailor about forty years of age, and a very -powerful man, of an iron frame and constitution and a choice man on -board ship. He was withal intelligent, having received a good common -school education, and of most excellent disposition even when in -liquor. He was honest as the sun, was never known to back out of -a ship, cheat his landlord, or run away after getting his month’s -advance. Ben was an excellent singer, and obtained his name from a song -called “Ben Bolt,” that he was very fond of singing. What his real -appellation was, for many years I did not know. He had none of the -vices common to seamen except drinking, and that he had to perfection, -insomuch that he was seldom sober while on shore. - -I was conscious of a singular attraction towards Ben; I liked him; and -whenever I could catch him comparatively sober, endeavored to wean him -from his cups. Sailors are, in general, inclined to relate incidents of -their life, and if they have religious or well-to-do parents, to speak -of them with satisfaction and honest pride. Ben, however, was reticent -in this respect. - -One day I was sitting at an open window in the reading room of the -Sailors’ Home, and Ben was seated on the piazza outside singing a psalm -in a low tone; at the conclusion he turned, and seeing me, said:-- - -“Parson, I’ve sung that psalm many times in the parish church at home.” - -Then, as though afraid I might pursue the subject further, abruptly -left. I judged from this that during his youth he might have sung in -the church choir; at any rate he could read music, had a thorough -knowledge of it, and was a skilful player on the violin. - -There were two hundred grog shops within a short distance of the Home, -several within three or four rods of the door, and every inducement -was held out to encourage seamen to drink. Ben had shipped for New -Orleans, but when the hour came for the vessel to sail, he was missing. -The superintendent of the Home told the “runners” to go to Ben’s -room, get a key, open his chest, and see if he had got his outfit of -sea-clothes and was ready to go, and if so, to search among the grog -shops and find him; but if he had not got his outfit, he would take a -man who was ready and put Ben in another vessel. - -I happened to be in the entry when they came upstairs, and went into -the room with them. They opened the chest, and there were his oil -clothes, sea-boots, woollens, and every part of his outfit, and stowed -snugly away among the flannels a two-gallon jug of whiskey. One of the -“runners” took it and was about to pour the liquor out of the window, -but I interfered, saying:-- - -“You have no right to pour his liquor out; he bought it and paid for it -and worked hard to earn the money.” - -“It is against the rules of the house to bring liquor into it.” - -“Well, it is here now.” - -“When he goes aboard, the mate of that ship will throw it overboard. -The last time he went from here he carried a jug, and the mate of the -ship took all their liquor away, for every man in the forecastle had a -jug.” - -“Well, the mate can do as he likes, but you shan’t pour it out.” - -I put the jug back and sat down on the chest to wait for Ben. The -“runners” did not succeed in finding him at his usual haunts, and, as -time was pressing, another man was taken and Ben left behind. I knew -he had a noble spirit of his own, and that taking liquor from him by -force had accomplished nothing in the past, and I resolved to make an -effort in another direction. I had some temperance tracts, written -by the boatswain of an English man-of-war, discussing the evils of -intemperance from the sailor’s standpoint, which I knew had produced -impressions upon many sailors. I spread one of these over the jug, then -took a Bible and opened to the twenty-ninth verse of the twenty-third -chapter of Proverbs, locked the chest, and went away. - -The doors of the Home were locked at twelve o’clock, and those who were -not in by that time must stay out. Ben came home, as the watchman told -me, about ten minutes before twelve pretty decidedly drunk. Finding -himself safe in his room, he concluded as he was not going in the ship, -and didn’t need the whiskey to carry to sea, he would have a good drink -and turn in. Opening the chest, he saw the tract and read it, espied -the Bible and read that, the result of which was that he turned in -without tasting the whiskey. When he waked in the morning, he read the -tract again, then took the jug, turned the liquor out of the window, -and broke the vessel on the window-sill. At breakfast he told the -“runners” what he had done. Upon this they told him of what had taken -place the previous afternoon, and who had placed the tracts and Bible -in his chest beside the rum jug. He then came into my room, the tears -on his cheeks, exclaiming:-- - -“Parson, you wouldn’t let ’em pour out my whiskey.” - -“No, Ben.” - -“Well, I’ve poured it out and broke the jug, and so help me God not -another drop of whiskey shall pass my lips. Rum and I have fell out. -There’s two kinds of drunk, being drunk in the head and in the legs. -I was drunk in the legs last night; I had all I could do to get -upstairs, but my head was clear enough to read that tract and take the -sense of it. The boatswain of that man-of-war talks well ’cause he -talks from experience. I also read the Good Book and took the sense -of that. I went to the “runners,” and they told me you wouldn’t let -’em pour out the whiskey. Ah, that took hold. I knew it wasn’t ’cause -you wanted me to drink liquor that you wouldn’t let ’em pour it out. -I knew you was a bitter enemy to liquor, but a good friend to the man -who drinks it. Don’t think I’ve forgotten all the good words you’ve -said to me during the four or five years I’ve been knocking about this -house drunk. I’ve thought of ’em in the middle watch at sea when I was -myself. I’ve thought of these bloodsuckers round this house trying to -get my money away from me, to take the clothes off my back and the -shoes off my feet, and you trying to get me out of their clutches and -save my soul; and I’ve thought if ever I got ashore again, I’d ship in -with you and sign the articles, and now I am going to do it.” - -“Are you really determined to leave off drinking, or is it a mere -impulse of the moment?” - -“I never was more resolved to get drunk when I had come off a long -voyage than I now am to keep sober.” - -“You cannot do this in your own strength. I have known hundreds attempt -it and fail; you do not, cannot realize the struggle it will cost. Let -us ask help of God.” - -We knelt down together. When I had finished, I asked him to pray; he -said he could not. - -“Then repeat the Lord’s Prayer with me; we are together in this thing -and must both have our hands on the rope.” He did so, and added to it,” -God, be merciful to me a sinner.” - -“Your appetites and passions, Ben, have got you under their feet, and -you must have help outside of yourself; so long as you seek it where we -have sought it together this morning you will succeed.” - -The next week he shipped for Australia. For five years I had seen him -go from the house on different voyages, and he had always gone so -intoxicated as to be barely able to sit in the wagon and unable to -get aboard without help. The captain or mate would often say to the -“runners”:-- - -“What did you bring that drunken fellow here for? I was to have good -men from your place.” And the invariable reply would be:-- - -“Captain, he will be the best man in the ship when the rum’s out of -him. He’s a bully man.” - -This time he went aboard sober and fit for any duty, and came home as -second mate of the ship. He was no longer Ben Bolt, but men who had -been in the ship with him and whom he brought to the Home, called him -Mr. Adams, William Adams. - -Note these two characters so strikingly different in circumstances and -in results. - -George L., spoken of in “A Wasted Life,” after several struggles for -victory over appetite, yielded and died by his own hand. William -Adams conquered, continued steadfast through life, and accumulated -property. George L. had youth on his side, a mother’s affection and -many kind friends to encourage him, and he made shipwreck. Adams at -forty years of age was a confirmed drunkard, all his associates were in -the practice of the same vice, all leagued together to drag him back, -and with but one friend to take him by the hand and encourage him to -a better course. George L. had a home, his flute, books, and steady -employment. He could attend lectures, find innocent amusement, and -good society. Adams was in the narrow compass of a ship’s forecastle, -where all the conversation among his shipmates was in respect to the -debauchery they had practised while on shore and meant to practise -again at the first opportunity. George L., if he had been so minded, -could have turned down the next street and got clear of his evil -companions, but Adams could not, and when the vessel arrived in a -foreign port, and the crew had money given them and liberty to go -ashore, the pressure was terrible. You may say, he could stay on board -and let them go; so he did. But if you think this was an easy matter -for a person of his previous habits, all I can say is, you don’t know -what sailors are, and are entirely incapable of forming any conception -of the strength of that instinct which leads a sailor to go with his -shipmates either in good or evil. We talk about the strength of the -college tie; the college tie is a spider’s web in the contrast. - -Why, I have frequently known the whole watch in a crew of men who had -just come off a long voyage to insist on sleeping in the same room, -three in a bed, and the rest on the floor, because they had been so -long together in the forecastle in the same watch; but after three or -four nights they would pair off and take rooms two together. - -All these trials, temptations, and discouragements Adams met and -surmounted. I attribute the failure of George L. to the fact that he -trusted in himself, and the success of Adams to the fact that he went -out of himself at the very outset, went to God for aid. In his case it -was the moral force supplementing the will that had become well-nigh -powerless which decided a contest in which character, consideration, -and happiness both here and hereafter, were at stake. All the talk at -present is about forces of various kinds; but if a young man would have -real force of character and wage a successful contest, let him seek for -it where William Adams sought and found. - - - - -MA’AM PRICE - - -A notable woman was Ma’am Price who taught school in Portland, Maine; -and Polly, her daughter, was a spunky piece and was ready with an -answer to anybody. The schoolroom was in Ma’am Price’s own house that -stood in Turkey Lane, so called from the following circumstance: -Mr.----, who lived in that locality, invited the Reverend Samuel Deane -to dine with him and partake of a turkey. The parson coming according -to appointment found a Cape Cod turkey on the table,--a boiled salt -fish. Notwithstanding the town christened the lane Newburg Street, the -name Turkey Lane clave to the spot more than forty years. - -When the British destroyed the town, Turkey Lane was directly in -range of the enemy’s fire; and when Ma’am Price had removed her -household stuff to a place of safety, Polly resolved to save her pig. -A sea-captain who had assisted her advised her to turn the animal out -to shift for itself, as Mowatt had opened fire, and it was not worth -while to risk life to save a pig that was not likely to be hit by a -cannon-ball. Polly, however, fastened a string to the creature’s leg -and undertook to drive it a long mile to Bramhall’s Hill. The pig was -obstinate, Polly determined, the progress necessarily slow. Meanwhile -shells were bursting and flinging the dirt on Polly. One junk of earth -struck the stick from her hand, and red-hot cannon-balls were whirring -around her, but Polly was determined to save the pig, and save it she -did. - -Ma’am Price came to Portland from one of the West India Islands. -She was a woman of culture, but very decided and strict in school -discipline. If a boy refused to hold his head up, she fastened a fork -under his chin. No trifling with her. - -Some years after this she was obliged to suspend her school on account -of an alarm of smallpox. A number of her scholars, among whom were -my mother and uncles, were inoculated with smallpox virus, put in a -pesthouse, and Ma’am Price, in whose experience and judgment the -parents reposed the greatest confidence, employed to take care of them. - -It was customary, before the discovery of Jenner, to inoculate with -smallpox matter; but the patients being first put under a strict régime -and properly and seasonably cared for, the disorder was not much more -severe than varioloid. It was seldom that a patient died or was even -pitted. - -These young persons had been long kept on water gruel and were -convalescent, when Hugh McLellan, by aid of friends outside, procured -two lobsters. The whole company were around the table about to partake, -when Ma’am Price made her appearance, and forbade them to take a -mouthful, saying it would kill them. They were, however, resolved -to eat, live or die. When unable to prevent them, for the boys were -large, she took out her box that was filled full of yellow Scotch -snuff, strewed it over the fish, and stirred it in with a spoon. Though -provoked enough at the moment, they cherished no ill-will against her; -at least I think not, when I recollect the number of presents the boys -and girls, whose parents were Ma’am Price’s scholars, used to carry to -Turkey Lane. - -The good lady’s house was a great resort for captains of vessels, -with whom her husband had been acquainted in the West Indies, and who -brought her a great many presents,--fruit, shells, coral, eyestones, -and vanilla beans. People who got anything in the eye would go to -her to have an eyestone put in, and the old ladies went there for -sweet-scented beans to put in their snuff-boxes. - -We were everlastingly teasing to carry some present to Ma’am Price, -and we found our account in so doing. She would put the eyestones in a -saucer and pour in vinegar, when they would crawl all over the saucer. -She would show us old pictures, needlework, and beautiful shells, and -tell us stories about the West Indies and the pirates. And always when -we carried a present, she gave us tamarind or guava jelly, or some West -India fruit. - -There was one fellow who thought--though doubtless it was just his -silly notion--that the boy who carried the most acceptable present -received the largest share of sweetmeats. So one time when he was going -to the good woman’s with several other boys, and all he had to carry -was a plate of doughnuts, while one of the others had a fifteen-pound -turkey, he told that boy if he would present the doughnuts and let -him present the turkey, he would give him two flounder hooks and a -gray squirrel; thus they swapped. We all thought the other boy rather -regretted it when going home, but he regretted it a good deal more -about a week after when Ma’am Price came to call on their respective -mothers and thanked his mother for “the nice plate of doughnuts” she -sent her. Ma’am Price was very punctual and particular in returning her -acknowledgments, and she did it like Britannia stooping to conquer. - -I am now going to tell the most wonderful thing that ever happened to -this excellent woman. One forenoon during recess she went into her -little garden, picked a mess of beans in her apron, sat down in the -schoolroom to shell them, and shelled out three diamonds. What a talk -it did make! People came from all the towns round to hear the story and -look at “the diamonds that grew in a bean pod.” - -I hear some boy say, “That never could be; diamonds couldn’t grow in a -bean pod.” I have quoted that as town talk, and Ma’am Price and Polly -always thought they grew there. I believe, moreover, that she shelled -them out of a bean pod; I shall stick to that. It’s not the least use -for you to tell me she didn’t. Mrs. Commodore Preble saw her with her -own eyes shell them out, and so did Mrs. Matthew Cobb who lived in the -cottage on the eastern corner of High and Free streets. My mother said -she did, and Mrs. James Deering said so too. Now, then, that’s not all. -The very day before the old lady died Miss Sarah Jewett said to her: -“Ma’am Price, did you truly shell those diamonds out of a bean pod? -Hadn’t the pod been opened, or was it solid together like the other -pods?” - -“Bless you, Miss Jewett, how could I tell? You know folks don’t look -at every bean or pea they shell, except there’s one that won’t open -right. I was shelling away and looking at the children to see that they -were all in their seats, when I felt something hard under my thumb and -looked into my lap, and there were two little shining things among the -beans, and another rolled out of the pod under my thumb when I took it -up.” - -Miss Jewett had one of the stones set in a ring that is now in the -possession of William Gould of Windham. John Campbell, a relative of -Polly’s, has another, and where the third is I do not know. - -Whenever the children carried Ma’am Price a present, she would take the -diamonds out of a cotton in which they were kept, lay them in her lap, -and let the children handle them; after which she would tell how she -shelled them out of the bean pod, and how surprised she was. - -I suppose if I don’t try to explain this mystery, I shall have forty -letters from boys inquiring how those diamonds came there. Well, my -father said that a vessel came to Portland from Brazil, on board of -which were several kinds of precious stones. The mate of the vessel -was paying attention to Polly, and he stole them out of the cargo and -put them in the bean. He dared not give them to Polly nor tell her -about it because he stole them; but as they had only about a dozen -bean vines, he knew she or her mother would find them after the vessel -was gone, so he put them in the pod just as he was about to sail. The -vessel was never heard from, and thus he never came back to claim -Polly nor to tell her where the diamonds, which were not of any great -value, came from, and Polly always thought they grew in the pod. -This was my father’s solution of the mystery which made considerable -of a stir at the time. As he knew all the parties and circumstances -thoroughly, it seems the most probable explanation; for nobody ever -doubted that Ma’am Price took them from the bean pod, and there were -not many that believed they grew there, though some did and looked at -it in the light of a special providence and provision for a worthy -woman; the objections to which are that, though diamonds, they were -rough diamonds, not much more valuable than quartz, and that Providence -provided abundantly for the good woman in the affections of her -scholars, who never suffered her to lack any comfort in her old age. - -If Ma’am Price was severe in her management of scholars, she was not -more so than the parents themselves, as the following anecdote will -show. Captain Joseph McLellan had a thermometer, rather a rare thing in -those days. His wife went to meeting one Sunday, leaving the boys, Joe -and Stephen, at home. Stephen held the bulb of the thermometer to the -fire to see the mercury rise, and by so doing broke it. They were well -aware of the consequences. Joe told Stephen if he would give him fifty -cents, he would tell his mother that he broke it and take the whipping, -which he did. The next day the mother found out the true state of the -case and whipped them both, Stephen for breaking the instrument, and -Joe for telling a lie. These were the kind of women to handle unruly -boys when the father was at sea. - - - - -THE DISCONTENTED BROOK - -A DIALOGUE - - -In a province of Old Spain respecting which the inhabitants were wont -to say that God had given them a fertile soil, a salubrious climate, -brave men, and beautiful women, but He had not given them a good -government lest they should not be willing to die and go to heaven, -there were two lakes separated by an intervening mountain. Each had an -outlet in a brook; and the two brooks, as they wound among the hills, -ran near each other, so that they were enabled to converse together -quite socially. They lay in the shadow of the hills among whose -roots rose the river Guadalquiver. The chain sloped by degrees to a -fertile plain covered with vineyards and olive trees. Fields of wheat -surrounded the scattered dwellings of the peasants and the tents of -shepherds whose flocks fed upon the mountains. The names of the brooks -were Bono and Malo. - -One pleasant night at the close of a very sultry day they met to pass -the evening together; so, getting into a little eddy beneath the -shade of some large chestnut trees, where the moonbeams which glanced -tremulously through the foliage enabled them to see each other’s faces -indistinctly, they thus spake in murmurs. - -_Bono._ “What a beautiful evening, neighbor Malo, after such a sultry -day! Yet I don’t know as I ought to speak ill of the weather, for it -has enabled me to do much good, to water many beautiful flowers and -fields of grain that otherwise would have perished.” - -_Malo._ “I don’t know about that. Who thanked you for it? I have been -this whole day,--yes, for the matter of that, my whole life,--running -first here, then there, squeezed in flumes, tangled in water-wheels, -pounded in fulling mills, flung over precipices till my neck was -well-nigh broken. Again, I am kept broiling in the sun, and if I steal -for a moment into the shade, I cannot stay there. I have almost boiled -to-day journeying among hot rocks and over burning sands. And what -thanks have I got for it? Do you know, neighbor Bono, the old peasant -Alva?” - -_Bono._ “Has he a daughter Lenore? Is his cottage shaded by two large -cork trees? And is there a field of saffron between his house and the -mill?” - -_Malo._ “Just so.” - -_Bono._ “I have known him these many years. His daughter keeps a few -sheep and goats on the mountain and often drives them to my waters.” - -_Malo._ “Well, only think! the old churl has been hoeing this morning -among his saffron; so at noon he comes to me and goes down on his hands -and knees to drink. Then he says, ‘I’ll bathe.’ So he bathes and, -without saying as much as ’By your leave’ or ’God is good’ or anything -of the sort, just puts on his clothes and walks off. Yet I have watered -his fields and those of his ancestors for a thousand years, have often -kept them from starving, and not one of them ever gave me even a look -of gratitude. But I am resolved to do so no more. I won’t wear out my -life for those who give me no thanks. I mean in the future to keep my -waters to myself and to water no one but myself.” - -_Bono._ “Well, neighbor Malo,” replies Bono, with a murmur so sweet -that the nightingale who was saying her evening prayers in the almond -tree stopped to listen, “I cannot feel as you do, neither do I wish to. -I have, indeed, had some weary times, especially, as you say, to-day, -and sometimes have been almost dried up. But I know what my duty is; -God made me to water the earth and the plants. It would be pleasant to -receive gratitude, but if we cannot have that, there is one thing we -can always have,--the happiness of feeling that we have done our duty.” - -_Malo._ “Duty! This is fine talking, but I heed it no more than the -song of that nightingale. What duty do I owe to that old peasant or any -of his kin? To the earth or the plants? What good have they ever done -me?” - -_Bono._ “But, neighbor Malo, the duty I speak of is not to them but to -God. I have, as you very well know, turned the mills of Henrique these -forty years, and also the fulling mills of Gonzalez, his nephew. As I -said before, this old Alva’s daughter, who used you so scurvily, both -waters and washes her sheep in my stream. Not one of these people ever -thanked me; yet I love very much to see their sheep fat, their lambs -frisking on the hills, and their families thriving. I indeed enjoy -their happiness as though it were my own.” - -_Malo._ “By this crouching spirit you invite insult and aggression.” - -_Bono._ “But are we not as well off in this respect as our neighbors? -The earth bringeth not forth fruit for itself; the ocean shares not in -the profits of the voyage. Who thanks the patient ox for dragging the -plough all his life? The sheep gives her fleece to clothe them and then -has her throat cut and her skin pulled over her ears, and not so much -as ’Thank you’ or ’By your leave’ to it all. You and I have not thanked -God for this pleasant moonlight, this sweet shade, and these flowers -that perfume our banks. He, without any thanks, causes ’his sun to rise -on the evil and on the good and sendeth rain on the just and on the -unjust.’ Surely then we, His instruments, ought not to complain who are -so forgetful ourselves.” - -_Malo._ “You are a very noisy brook as everybody knows, but I am -determined to take care of myself. I shall go home and stay at home. -And you, who are as full of Scripture as a brook is of pebbles, ought -to know that charity begins at home.” - -_Bono._ “True, but it does not stay there. I shall be sorry to lose -your company; we have run together so long, but if you are resolved to -benefit only yourself, I am just as firmly resolved to benefit others; -yes, the last drop--I will share even that with the faint and the -thirsty.” - -Thus Bono went on overflowing with kindness the whole world. The good -brook ran among the vineyards, and the grapes hung in rich clusters; it -ran through the fields, and the grass turned to deeper green; the trees -said, “He waters us; let us shadow him.” The great oaks and sycamores -bent kindly over the brook, and their branches screened it from the -heat of the sun. The shepherds often wanted wood, but they said: “Let -us not cut down the trees that shade the brook, for it is a good brook. -It turns our mills and waters our fields and flocks. God be thanked -for the running water!” Thus the brook that worked for everybody was -loved and protected. It grew larger and ran in the Guadalquiver, and -there helped to water larger fields and turn larger machinery; it -ran to the ocean and foamed beneath the keel of mighty ships and was -diffused over the whole universe of God. It sent up so many vapors to -heaven that they returned in plentiful showers bringing back more than -they carried. Thus the brook that watered, not expecting any thanks or -profit, but because it was duty, was loved and blessed. - -But how fared it with Malo who had retired into himself to take care -of himself and left his channel dry and dusty? For a while he had more -water than he knew what to do with. He was obliged to work night and -day raising his banks to keep it in. He labored a great deal harder to -keep the waters from breaking out and doing good to some one, watering -some poor man’s perishing crops, than he ever did before in watering -and fertilizing a whole province. Meanwhile, in the plains below, -the grass withered, the mill stopped, the flocks died, the shepherds -cursed the brook, and some of them cursed God. But Malo said: “Let them -curse. I’m for myself. I’ve water enough.” But by and by a fire at -which some shepherds were cooking their dinner got away from them, and -the wind being high ran up the dry bed of the brook in the withered -grass and dry leaves, and burnt up the forest on the sides of the hill -that fed the pond and all the trees that shaded it. The sun, then -pouring in with meridian heat, began to shrink the waters. There being -little motion in them since they had ceased to run, they putrefied -and the fish perished. Snakes, lizards, and all vile creatures came -to live there. Instead of flowers and foliage, bullrushes, reeds, -and the deadly aconite grew there. As the waters grew less and less -fewer vapors went up from it and less rain came down. After a while -it mantled over with a green scum, and malaria began to rise from it. -People began to die in the neighborhood; malaria got among the soldiers -in a garrison near by, and the doctors said, “It is the pond; it must -be drained.” Then all the country round about and the soldiers came -together and drained it dry, and brought down earth and rocks from the -mountain, and filled up the bed of the lake that there might be no more -stagnant water. - -Thus it fell out to the brook that was determined to benefit only -itself. It lost all. It had both God and man to fight against. For -if men are not always grateful, they are not often slack in repaying -injuries. Let us follow the example of the industrious brook, and by it -learn in blessing to be blessed. - - - - -A COMPLETE LIST OF ELIJAH KELLOGG’S BOOKS - - [With the exception of “Norman Cline,” all these books are published - by Lee and Shepard, Boston. “Norman Cline” is published by the - Congregational Sunday-school and Publishing Society, Boston.] - - - Good Old Times; or Grandfather’s Struggle for a Homestead. First - published as a serial story in _Our Young Folks_ in 1867; published in - book form in 1878. - - Norman Cline. 1869. - - -ELM ISLAND STORIES - - Lion Ben of Elm Island. 1869. - - Charlie Bell, the Waif of Elm Island. 1869. - - The Ark of Elm Island. 1869. - - The Boy Farmers of Elm Island. 1869. - - The Young Ship-Builders of Elm Island. 1870. - - The Hard-Scrabble of Elm Island. 1870. - - -THE PLEASANT COVE SERIES - - Arthur Brown the Young Captain. 1870. - - The Young Deliverers of Pleasant Cove. 1871. - - The Cruise of the Casco. 1871. - - The Child of the Island Glen. 1872. - - John Godsoe’s Legacy. 1873. - - The Fisher-Boys of Pleasant Cove. 1874. - - -THE WHISPERING PINE SERIES - - The Spark of Genius; or the College Life of James Trafton. 1871. - - The Sophomores of Radcliffe; or James Trafton and his Bosom Friends. - 1872. - - The Whispering Pine; or the Graduates of Radcliffe Hall. 1872. - - Winning his Spurs; or Henry Morton’s First Trial. 1872. - - The Turning of the Tide; or Radcliffe Rich and his Friends. 1873. - - A Stout Heart; or The Student from over the Sea. 1873. - - -FOREST GLEN SERIES - - Sowed by the Wind; or The Poor Boy’s Fortune. 1874. - - Wolf Run; or The Boys of the Wilderness. 1875. - - Brought to the Front; or The Young Defenders. 1876. - - The Mission of Black Rifle; or On the Trail. 1876. - - Forest Glen; or The Mohawk’s Friendship. 1877. - - Burying the Hatchet; or the Young Brave of the Delawares. 1878. - - -THE GOOD OLD TIMES SERIES - - (Including “Good Old Times,” first mentioned above.) - - A Strong Arm and a Mother’s Blessing. 1881. - - The Unseen Hand; or James Renfew and his Helpers. 1882. - - The Live Oak Boys; or The Adventures of Richard Constable Afloat and - Ashore. 1883. - - * * * * * - -Transcriber's Notes - -Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations -in hyphenation, spelling and punctuation remain unchanged. - -The duplication of the title immediately before the frontispiece has -been removed. - -Repetition of the sidenote “Journal” on each page of the section -devoted to the Journal has been removed. - -Italics are represented thus _italic_. - - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Elijah Kellogg, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELIJAH KELLOGG *** - -***** This file should be named 51281-0.txt or 51281-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/2/8/51281/ - -Produced by David Edwards, Les Galloway and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Elijah Kellogg - The Man and His Work - -Author: Various - -Editor: Wilmot Brookings Mitchell - -Release Date: February 22, 2016 [EBook #51281] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELIJAH KELLOGG *** - - - - -Produced by David Edwards, Les Galloway and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - - -<p class="half-title">ELIJAH KELLOGG<br /> - -THE MAN AND HIS WORK</p> - -<div class="figcenter" ><a id="frontis"></a> -<img src="images/frontis.jpg" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Elijah Kellogg at Sixty-five.</span><br /> 1878.</div> -</div> - -<h1> -ELIJAH KELLOGG<br /> -<br /> -<small>THE MAN AND HIS WORK</small></h1> - -<p class="center">CHAPTERS FROM HIS LIFE AND SELECTIONS<br /> -FROM HIS WRITINGS</p> - -<p class="center spaced"><small>EDITED BY</small><br /> - -WILMOT BROOKINGS MITCHELL<br /> - -<span class="xs">PROFESSOR OF RHETORIC AND ORATORY<br /> -BOWDOIN COLLEGE</span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt="Colophon" /></div> - -<p class="center spaced"><small>BOSTON</small><br /> -LEE AND SHEPARD<br /> -<small>1903</small> -</p> - - -<p class="center spaced"><span class="xs"> -<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1903, by Lee and Shepard.</span><br /> - -Published, November, 1903.<br /> - -<i>All Rights Reserved.</i><br /> - -<span class="smcap">Elijah Kellogg.</span></span></p> - - -<p class="center"><span class="xs">Norwood Press<br /> -J. S. Cushing & Co.—Berwick & Smith Co.<br /> -Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.</span></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - - -<p class="center spaced"> -<small>To</small><br /> - -FRANK GILMAN KELLOGG<br /> - -<small>AND</small><br /> - -MARY CATHERINE BATCHELDER<br /> - -<small>THIS SCANTY RECORD<br /> - -OF THE</small><br /> - -LIFE AND WORK OF THEIR BELOVED FATHER<br /> - -<small>IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED</small><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span></p> - - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE</h2> - - -<p>This book makes no pretence of expounding -the doctrines of the theologian or analyzing -the methods of the artist. It is simply -a remembrancer of a quaint and winning man -for his intimate friends and parishioners; for -the boys who have delighted in his stories; -for the sailors whose lives he saved from shipwreck; -for the college students who learned -from him a wisdom not to be found in books; -for all, in fact, to whom the memory of his -unique personality is dear. With the story -of his life, with anecdote and reminiscence, -with selections from his speeches, sermons, -letters, and journal, it aims to recall Elijah -Kellogg as he really was: the boy, tingling -with life and full of fun to his finger tips; -the college student, genial, prankish, and -zealous; the farmer-preacher, devout and resourceful, -making pen and book, scythe and -hoe, seine and boat, all his ready servants to -do God’s work; the author, finding his way<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span> -straight to the heart of the growing boy; the -aged man, fond as ever of the soil and the -sea, and after all the rubs and chances of a -long life, still young in spirit, strong in faith, -and free from bitterness and guile.</p> - -<p>Acknowledgment is here due to Mr. Kellogg’s -son and daughter, Mr. Frank G. Kellogg -and Mrs. Mary C. Batchelder, and to many of -his intimate acquaintances in Harpswell and -Brunswick for information relating to his -early Harpswell life. Special acknowledgment -is also due to President William DeWitt -Hyde for valuable advice concerning the preparation -of this book.</p> - -<p class="right"> -W. B. M.</p> -<p class="l1"> -<span class="smcap">Brunswick, Maine</span>,<br /> - November 23, 1903. -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - - - - -<div class="center"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">BIOGRAPHICAL CHAPTERS</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="2"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#ELIJAH_KELLOGG_THE_BOY">The Boy</a></span></td><td class="tdrb">1</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh">Rev. George Lewis, D.D., Pastor of Congregational Church, South Berwick, Maine.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#COLLEGE_AND_SEMINARY">College and Seminary</a></span></td><td class="tdrb">27</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh">Henry Leland Chapman, D.D., Professor of English Literature, Bowdoin College.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#EARLY_HARPSWELL_DAYS">Early Harpswell Days</a></span></td><td class="tdrb">50</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh">Wilmot Brookings Mitchell, Professor of Rhetoric and Oratory, Bowdoin College.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#THE_SEAMANS_FRIEND">The Seaman’s Friend</a></span></td><td class="tdrb">74</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh">George Kimball, Dorchester, Mass.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#AS_SEEN_THROUGH_A_BOYS_EYES">As Seen through a Boy’s Eyes</a></span></td><td class="tdrb">94</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh">Judge William Oliver Clough, Nashua, N.H.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#Kellogg_the_Author">Kellogg the Author</a></span></td><td class="tdrb">115</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh">Wilmot Brookings Mitchell.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#LAST_DAYS_IN_HARPSWELL">Last Days in Harpswell</a></span></td><td class="tdrb">141</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh">As Seen in Letters and Journal.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#REMINISCENCES">Reminiscences</a></span></td><td class="tdrb">169</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh">General Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain, LL.D., Ex-Governor of Maine and Ex-President of Bowdoin College.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#A_TRIBUTE">A Tribute</a></span></td><td class="tdrb">190</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh">Rev. Abiel Holmes Wright, A.M., formerly Pastor of St. Lawrence Street Church, Portland, Maine.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdc" colspan="2">SELECTIONS FROM WRITINGS</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#DECLAMATIONS">Declamations</a></span>:</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#SPARTACUS_TO_THE_GLADIATORS">Spartacus to the Gladiators</a></td><td class="tdrb">205</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#REGULUS_TO_THE_CARTHAGINIANS">Regulus to the Carthaginians</a></td><td class="tdrb">211</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#HANNIBAL_AT_THE_ALTAR">Hannibal at the Altar</a></td><td class="tdrb">217</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#PERICLES_TO_THE_PEOPLE">Pericles to the People</a></td><td class="tdrb">225</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#ICILIUS">Icilius</a></td><td class="tdrb">229</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#DECIUS">Decius</a></td><td class="tdrb">236</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#LEONIDAS">Leonidas</a></td><td class="tdrb">241</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#THE_CENTURION">The Centurion</a></td><td class="tdrb">248</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#VIRGINIUS_TO_THE_ROMAN_ARMY">Virginius to the Roman Army</a></td><td class="tdrb">254</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#GENERAL_GAGE_AND_THE_BOSTON">General Gage and the Boston Boys</a></td><td class="tdrb">259</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#THE_WRECKED_PIRATE">The Wrecked Pirate</a></td><td class="tdrb">265</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Speeches</span>:</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#AN_OUNCE_OF_PREVENTION">“An Ounce of Prevention”</a></td><td class="tdrb">271</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh1">Delivered in Boston in 1861.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#RELIGIOUS_WORSHIP_EARLY_IN_THE">Religious Worship Early in the Century</a></td><td class="tdrb">276</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh1">Delivered at Portland, Maine, Centennial Celebration, July 4, 1886.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#AT_BOWDOIN_COMMENCEMENT">At Bowdoin Commencement</a>, June 25, 1890</td><td class="tdrb">287</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#AT_CENTENNIAL_CELEBRATION_OF">At Centennial Celebration of Bowdoin College</a>, June 28, 1894</td><td class="tdrb">297</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#LOVE">Love</a></td><td class="tdrb">306</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh1">Delivered at “Donation Party” at Harpswell, September 18, 1894.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#THE_DELUDED_HERMIT">The Deluded Hermit</a></td><td class="tdrb">310</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh1">Delivered at “Donation Party,” October 1, 1895.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#HOME">Home</a></td><td class="tdrb">314</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh1">Delivered at “Donation Party,” October 19, 1897.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</a></span></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#SERMONS">Sermons</a></span>:</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#THE_PRODIGALS_RETURN">The Prodigal’s Return</a></td><td class="tdrb">321</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#WRESTING_THE_SCRIPTURES">Wresting the Scriptures</a></td><td class="tdrb">338</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#THE_BEAUTY_OF_THE_AUTUMN">The Beauty of the Autumn</a></td><td class="tdrb">357</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh1">To Bowdoin Students, October, 1889.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#THE_ANCHOR_OF_HOPE">The Anchor of Hope</a></td><td class="tdrb">361</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh1">Preached at the Second Parish Church, Portland, August 5, 1900, “Old Home Week.”</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#PRAYER_OFFERED_ON_MEMORIAL_DAY">A Prayer</a></td><td class="tdrb">367</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh1">Memorial Day, 1883, Brunswick.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Verse</span>:</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh">From “<a href="#FROM_THE_PHANTOMS_OF_THE_MIND">The Phantoms of the Mind</a>”</td><td class="tdrb">373</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#THE_DEMON_OF_THE_SEA">The Demon of the Sea</a></td><td class="tdrb">374</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#PORTLAND">Portland</a></td><td class="tdrb">378</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#AN_ODE">An Ode</a></td><td class="tdrb">379</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh1">Written for the Semi-centennial Celebration at Bowdoin College, August 31, 1852.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#A_HYMN">A Hymn</a></td><td class="tdrb">381</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh1">Written for the Celebration of the Twenty-eighth Anniversary of the Boston Seaman’s Friend Society, May 28, 1856.</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#TRUE_POETRYS_TASK">True Poetry’s Task</a></td><td class="tdrb">382</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#MISCELLANEOUS">Miscellaneous</a></span>:</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#MEMORIES_OF_LONGFELLOW">Memories of Longfellow</a></td><td class="tdrb">387</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#BEN_BOLT">Ben Bolt</a></td><td class="tdrb">394</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#MAAM_PRICE">Ma’am Price</a></td><td class="tdrb">404</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#THE_DISCONTENTED_BROOK">The Discontented Brook</a></td><td class="tdrb">413</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap"><a href="#A_COMPLETE_LIST_OF_ELIJAH">Complete List of Books</a></span></td><td class="tdrb">423</td></tr> -</table></div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[Pg xii]</a><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[Pg xiii]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="ILLUSTRATIONS" id="ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - - - - -<div class="center"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#frontis">Elijah Kellogg at 65</a>. 1878</td><td class="tdrb"><i>Frontispiece</i></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"></td><td class="tdrb"><small>FACING PAGE</small></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#p008">Rev. Elijah Kellogg</a>, 1796. Father of Elijah Kellogg. <i>From a Miniature</i></td><td class="tdrb">8</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#p028">Mrs. Eunice McLellan Kellogg</a>. Mother of Elijah Kellogg</td><td class="tdrb">28</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#p048">House on Cumberland Street</a>, Portland, Maine, in which Elijah Kellogg lived when a boy</td><td class="tdrb">48</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#p056">Elijah Kellogg’s Church at Harpswell</a>, Maine</td><td class="tdrb">56</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#p068">Hannah Pearson Pomeroy Kellogg</a>. Wife of Elijah Kellogg</td><td class="tdrb">68</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#p080">Elijah Kellogg at 43</a>. 1856</td><td class="tdrb">80</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#p114">Elijah Kellogg’s Home at Harpswell</a>, Maine</td><td class="tdrb">114</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#p140">View of the Kellogg Homestead</a>, Harpswell, Maine</td><td class="tdrb">140</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#p168">Aunt Betsy and Uncle William Alexander</a>, for fifty years nearest neighbors and dear friends of Elijah Kellogg</td><td class="tdrb">168</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#p188">Casco Bay as seen near Kellogg Homestead</a>, Harpswell, Maine</td><td class="tdrb">188</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#p202">I. Frank Gilman Kellogg</a>. Son of Elijah Kellogg.<br />II. Mrs. Mary Kellogg Batchelder and Baby<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[Pg xiv]</a></span> -Eleanor Batchelder. Daughter and granddaughter of Elijah Kellogg</td><td class="tdrb">202</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#p288">Elijah Kellogg at 77</a>. 1890</td><td class="tdrb">288</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#p306">Elijah Kellogg at 80</a>. 1893</td><td class="tdrb">306</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#p356">Interior View of Elijah Kellogg’s Church</a> at Harpswell, Maine</td><td class="tdrb">356</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdlh"><a href="#p384">Elijah Kellogg at 86. 1899</a></td><td class="tdrb">384</td></tr> -</table></div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="ELIJAH_KELLOGG_THE_BOY" id="ELIJAH_KELLOGG_THE_BOY"></a>ELIJAH KELLOGG: THE BOY</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">George Lewis</span></p> - - -<p>It is much easier to read the boy after you -see and know the man than it is to read the -man when you see and know only the boy. -Manhood may be the unfolding of the various -forces and dispositions of boyhood, but this -unfolding must take place before the boyhood -itself can be comprehended. The mill must -grind the wheat into flour and the flour be -baked and eaten before we can know how -good the kernels of wheat are. So we must -see Elijah Kellogg as a man before we can -fairly estimate him as a lad. When we hear -him preach or when we read some of his books, -then we know there was something in him -when a child more than mere roguery and fun. -Genius was there. Powers and faculties were -there which, when trained by judgment and -directed by piety, made him the preacher to -whom men and women loved to listen, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> -the writer of books that captivated the hearts -of all boys.</p> - -<p>This man first saw the light May 20, 1813, -in a house on Congress Street in Portland, -Maine, where dwelt the pastor of the Second -Congregational Church of the city. The baby -was called Elijah because that was the father’s -name; and the father at his birth had been -called Elijah because of the famous prophet -in Israel who bore the name. At the father’s -birth it was said by his parents, “We must -have a prophet in the family.” So the name -Elijah was given to the boy and he proved -a prophet not in name only, but in reality -as well. The Rev. Elijah Kellogg, pastor of -the Second Congregational parish in Portland -during the latter part of the eighteenth -and early part of the nineteenth centuries, -was no mean representative of the old Hebrew -prophet. The famous name sat well and appropriately -upon the younger man. Had the -Rev. Mr. Kellogg lived in the days of Ahab, -of infamous memory, we may be very sure -he would have stood beside the old prophet -in his stout resistance to that wicked king; -and had the Hebrew prophet been born in -New England in the eighteenth century he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> -would have sympathized warmly with his -young namesake as he buckled on his belt -and beat the drum for the patriots at the -battle of Bunker Hill, and put forth all his -skill and strength to free the colonies from -the selfish and tyrannical rule of George III. -There never yet was a true prophet of God -in any land whose heart did not beat warmly -for larger popular liberty and for a higher -type of righteousness. Every prophet looks -toward a sunrising that shall bring to earth -a better day.</p> - -<p>Elijah Kellogg, Sr., was but a boy at the opening -of our Revolutionary struggle, but he was a -boy of high spirit, of dauntless courage, and -of most generous impulses. He derived these -qualities of character from two distinct sources. -These sources were, first, his ancestry, and second, -the neighborhood where he was born, viz., -South Hadley, Massachusetts. A boy could -hardly be born and reared in the atmosphere of -Hampshire County, Massachusetts, especially -around Northampton and the Hadleys at that -period of time, and be anything other than a -freedom-loving patriot. It was a region of country -favorable to the growth of heroes. Settled -by stanch and sturdy Puritans, its people had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> -for many years been sternly disciplined by the -Indian troubles. No pusillanimous and faint-hearted -men could by any means live long -in that section. Only men of courage and -strength could abide there. The Kelloggs -proved what stuff they were made of, for the -family had been living there for more than -a century when Elijah came upon the scene. -They were there when the regicide judges, -Whalley and Goffe, pursued by the rancorous -hatred of Charles II., sought an asylum in -New England. Those men came first to New -Haven for shelter, but even there they were -not safe from the emissaries of the king. The -protection, however, that New Haven could -not afford them, Hadley could. Among the -steel-hearted men of that up-river country they -found safety. In that region was an association -of liberty-loving souls, which, better than -woods and better than caves, made life safe -for those men who had helped behead a faithless -king and had thereby given the cause of -political and religious freedom a great uplift. -Some towns are vastly better for boys to be -born in than other towns are. South Hadley -was one of the “better towns,” where Elijah -Kellogg, Sr., saw the light for the first time -in the year 1761.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> - -<p>Furthermore, there was good blood in the -Kellogg veins irrespective of their geography. -They were a worthy race anywhere and in all -circumstances. Among the ancestors of this -prophet-named lad were men who had borne -the banner of the cross in Palestine with Richard -of the Lion Heart, and others who had been -true and stanch men in the Wars of the Roses -and during the great reigns of Henry VIII. -and Queen Elizabeth, and still others there -were who a little later for their conscience’ -sake had come to America. With such an -ancestry as that and with a birthplace like -South Hadley, it is no wonder that we find -young Kellogg at Bunker Hill, where were -fired the opening guns of the Revolution; or -that a little later he endured the privations -of Valley Forge and fought at Monmouth. -He was, however, formed for scholarship -rather than for military life, and after the -war he entered and graduated at Dartmouth -College. In 1788 the Second Church of Portland -gave him a call to their pastorate. He -accepted the call, and after this time Portland -was his home as long as he lived.</p> - -<p>Elijah Kellogg, Jr., had a good deal come -to him from his father’s side of the house.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> -He also had a good deal come to him from his -mother’s side. This mother of his had once -been Eunice McLellan. Her father was Captain -Joseph McLellan and her mother was Mary, -daughter of Hugh and Elizabeth McLellan, -who had been among the earliest settlers of -Gorham, Maine. Eunice, therefore (Mrs. Kellogg), -was a McLellan of the McLellans. The -family were Scotch-Irish people, and were descended -from old Sir Hugh, who was knighted -in the year 1515, and the race was one of -strong family characteristics. Even at the -present time they are somewhat clannish, and -to this day throughout New England the name -McLellan is regarded by him who bears it as -a sort of patent of nobility; and all agree that -there are few if any names in the country -more worthy of respect and honor than that -one.</p> - -<p>Joseph McLellan was a born sailor if ever -there was one, an adventurous rover of the -seas, always happiest when on blue water -with a good ship under his feet and a stiff -breeze blowing him along his course. This -man sent his own disposition down the family -stream, and gave to his grandson Elijah a -generous share of that same roving and ad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>venturous -spirit. The story is told that on -the birth of an infant daughter to Joseph and -Mary the parents decided to call her Esther, -or as it was pronounced in those days, Easter. -The babe was taken to the church that she -might be baptized at the hands of the Rev. -Mr. Deane. At the font the name of the -child was handed to the clergyman, Easter, -upon which he broke out, “Easter! Easter! -That is no good name for a girl. Call her -after my wife. Call her Eunice. Eunice, I -baptize thee,” etc. The deed was done, and -the child was Eunice in spite of both father -and mother. The baby thus curiously named -became in due time the wife of Parson Kellogg -and the mother of the subject of this sketch. -The McLellans were a canny folk. They had -fought for Scottish liberty in many a sharp -tug with the Saxons in the old days. They -had helped fight the battles of the Covenanters -at a later period, and now in the -eighteenth century, transferred to America, -they still kept up the fight and played their -part on many a field, from Bunker Hill to -Yorktown.</p> - -<p>Blood will tell. Family traits will be transmitted. -Sons will in some degree resemble<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> -sires. With an ancestry on both sides like -that sketched above, it is no great wonder that -the subject of this volume became the man he -did. He had a good start. There was in him -a goodly fund of inherited gifts. In the book,“Good Old Times,” which is Mr. Kellogg’s -story of the McLellan family (his grandmother’s -branch of it more particularly), the -author lets us see how largely his own personal -character was formed and his whole life influenced -by the traditions and stories of the men -and women of the family, recounted as those -stories were at the fireside in the winter evenings, -and told over again in the daytime as -men and boys were doing their work in the -woods and in the fields. The boy was perfectly -happy when listening to these tales of -pioneer life, made up as they largely were of -homely and commonplace incidents and yet -of really adventurous deeds. They were tales -of conflict with the Indians, in which the -McLellan fairness and good sense always won -the respect of the savages and in most cases -secured their good will and good treatment; -of encounters with bears and wolves and other -wild beasts, where man’s craft and skill gained -the victory; and experiences with cold and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> -hunger and hardships of the wilderness, in -which Christian faith and the McLellan pluck -overcame all odds and achieved a good measure -of prosperity. Things like these were the -folk-lore of the Gorham people rather than -stories of round tables and fairies and ghosts -and witches. This boy, like Carlyle, came to -have a great admiration for the “man who -could do things.” The ideal hero of Elijah -Kellogg’s early boyhood was the hearty, warm-hearted, -rough-handed, whole-souled pioneer -who never turned his back upon a foe, whether -biped or quadruped, and who never blenched -in the face of a difficulty or a danger. He -was the man who had in himself resources -that were always called out and brought into -exercise when obstacles were encountered, and -invariably rose superior to the obstacles and -made the man complete master of the situation, -however bad that situation appeared. As he -would have phrased it, he liked the man who -never got whipped. The white man who -could outwit an Indian or outhug a bear or -outrun a pack of wolves was a man to be -admired. The man who could fell a forest -and clear a farm and put the soil to the production -of corn and wheat was a man to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> -admired. This hero of Kellogg’s childhood -was never entirely dethroned from the heart -of the man. To the end of his days he loved -that man who, using his own native strength, -could bridle and ride the storm, or over the -rudest billows of the ocean could bring his -vessel into port.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" ><a id="p008"></a> -<img src="images/p008.jpg" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Rev. Elijah Kellogg.</span> 1796.<br /> -Father of Elijah Kellogg.<br /> -<i><small>From a miniature</small>.</i></div></div> - -<p>It is almost superfluous to say that the man -who wrote such books for boys as are the Elm -Island and the Pleasant Cove series of stories -was himself, when a lad, what would be called -to-day an irrepressible. Without the least -spice of malice or any suggestion of real harm -in his nature, Elijah Kellogg was as full of -mischief as a spring is of water, and it was simply -impossible for parents and guardians to -keep him within the bounds of Puritan propriety. -It weighed not one jot with him that -grave ministers and dignified elders of the -church were among his forbears. It never -occurred to him that because his father was -a clergyman therefore he, the boy, should not -go with other boys on Sunday morning to -enjoy a frolic and take a swim in the waters -of Back Cove, well out of sight from the parsonage -windows, though of course such things -on the Lord’s Day were strictly forbidden.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> -Elijah’s proclivities were well known, and -many were the family traps that were set for -his ensnarement. But he had great facility -for getting out of scrapes as well as getting -into them. He did not, however, always escape -detection. On one occasion, for example, the -Sunday morning swim and games had been too -fascinating for his boyish discretion, and had -held him at the water until the public services -for the morning at the church had closed. -Elijah went home to meet his father, who had -missed the boy from his proper seat in the -family pew. That meeting between father -and son can be more easily imagined than -described, especially if the reader happens to -be the child of a stern Puritan church-goer, -and has himself been guilty of escapades on -Sunday. To the question, “Where have you -been this morning?” the boy replied without -hesitation that he had been to the Methodist -meeting. He heard his father preach every -Sunday, and he had become a little tired of -hearing one voice, and he wanted to hear what -some other man had to say. Of course the -next question was, “What was the preacher’s -text?” Elijah was ready for this and at once -gave chapter and verse and repeated the pas<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span>sage. -But the inquisition did not stop here; -he must now give some account of the sermon. -This seemed a perfectly easy matter to the -young culprit. He had heard a good many -sermons, and he felt very sure that he could -report one even though he had not listened -to it at all. But here he was caught. He -had never heard anything but the rigid, old-school, -Calvinistic doctrines, and it never -entered his head that one minister did not -always preach like another. It was therefore -a sound Calvinistic sermon that this young -reporter put into the mouth of the Methodist -minister. He was soon brought up short with -the paternal remark: “Elijah, stop right there. -Now I know you are lying. No Methodist -minister ever preached like that. Your whole -story is false. You have spent your morning -down by the water.”</p> - -<p>When Elijah was some ten or eleven years -old he was taken to Gorham, and spent some -months in the home of Mrs. Lothrop Lewis. -Mrs. Lewis had a young daughter whom she -wished put into a Portland school, and an exchange -of children was made with the Kelloggs, -they taking the girl into their home and Mrs. -Lewis taking the boy into hers. This exchange<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> -was in many respects a grateful one to the boy. -The country was the place for him. There -was more freedom there, more room and more -chance for fun than in town. Perhaps, too, -the fact that his father was nine miles away -had its alleviations, for the presence of a -father, however dearly he was loved, was a -damper on the spirit of prankishness. While -with Mrs. Lewis, Elijah certainly made mischief -for everybody, but at the same time he -made friends of everybody, for none could help -loving the bright and lively fellow. In due -time the boy went back to Portland. But the -city was no place for a lad like him. He -chafed under its restraints, and cared but little -for its schools. He was like a sea-gull shut -up in a cage. As the imprisoned gull pines -for the freedom of wind and wave so did the -heart of Elijah Kellogg long for the free winds -and the rolling waters and the ships that went -sailing away to distant ports. It was a longing -that could not be suppressed, and no one -can really blame him that before he was thirteen -years old he had found his way on board -a ship and become a sailor in downright earnest. -I am sure that the boys who read his -books are not sorry that the hand that wrote<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> -those stories gained some of its cunning by -pulling ropes, furling and unfurling sails, taking -his trick at the wheel, and sharing actively -in whatever pertained to the handling and -management of vessels. He loved the sea, and -was fascinated by the strange sights and sounds -of foreign countries. He was a keen observer -for a boy just entering his teens, and he gained -much valuable knowledge as he wandered -round the world borne along by the wings of -a ship. But in his roving he never for one -moment forgot his home. His heart was warm -and true to the friends who were there. Letters -written to his father from different quarters -of the world are now in existence, and they -bear full testimony to his ardent affection for -home and friends. His love for friends was -perhaps the strongest element of his nature, -even stronger than his love of adventure, and -in due time that love brought him back from -his travels no longer to sail the seas except in -small boats near the shore. In the story of “Charlie Bell,” Mr. Kellogg (unconsciously, -no doubt) has given us the picture of a boy’s -nature and disposition very much like his own.</p> - -<p>After returning from sea Elijah found Portland -and Portland ways no more congenial to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> -him than they had been before he went away, -and again he left home and went to Gorham -to try life among his McLellan relatives. He -lived for a time in the family of Major Warren -on a farm some two miles out of the village, -matching his own strength of muscle with that -of the regular farm-hands. He was not there -a great while, however. Rev. Mr. Kellogg -came out from Portland and interviewed Mr. -Alexander McLellan, a near relative of his own -wife, and the result of that interview was that -Elijah was, after the fashion of the time, indentured -as an apprentice to Mr. McLellan to -do general work on the place for the period of -one year. The purpose of this indenture, however, -was rather to restrain and hold him in -one stated place than to make a servant of -him, for he became at once a true member of -the family “in good and regular standing.” -He took his position and did his share of the -work on the place in a faithful and orderly -manner. His experience on the ship had been -of great benefit to him. He had there learned -the lessons of obedience and of industry,—lessons -absolutely essential for every boy to learn -if he would ever arrive at a worthy maturity. -Now, instead of blocks and ropes and belaying<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> -pins, his tools were the plough, the hoe, the -scythe, and the axe, and while using these he -could almost fancy himself a pioneer. All this -was a very wholesome kind of life and a right -life in its way. Still it was no proper life for -such a young man as by this time Elijah Kellogg -had become. All his friends seemed to -feel the incongruity of it, and the truth of this -began to dawn upon himself, also. He began -to feel, and to feel very strongly, that this sort -of life was not up to his own level. The bird -is for a life higher than the ground, and in like -manner he was for something higher than the -farm. There was a real genius in the soul of -this boy that was reaching up toward intellectual -exercises. Decks of ships, fields of corn, -loads of lumber, were all good, but for him -there was something better. The play of intellect -appealed to him now more than the play -of muscle did. All the associations in the -family where he lived and those throughout -the village were such as to encourage and foster -this new ambition. This new feeling, this -new ideal which was fast taking possession of -his mind, was only an indication that the doors -of boyhood were closing and the doors of manhood -were beginning to open. He was grad<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>ually -coming to understand himself and to have -a dawning perception of some God-given powers, -which, if they were properly trained, might -result in the accomplishment of fine things. -This vision of what he might sometime perform, -if he would, rose to the front, and for -the time assumed the leadership of his life. -He was as obedient to this vision as Saint Paul -was obedient to the vision he had near the -city of Damascus, or as Abraham Lincoln was -obedient to those dreams and visions that he -had while he was managing the flatboat on -the great river. The McLellan family, where -he was living, were heartily in sympathy with -this new development. From oldest to youngest -they all felt that it was not a proper thing -that this young man who was so gifted and -who showed so many marks of a true genius -should spend his energies on the farm and in -the shop. There is iron for the place of iron -and steel for the place of steel and silver for -that of silver. This was a piece of silver, and -he ought to take his proper place. It is needless -to say how much this <i>change of aim</i> on -the part of Elijah gladdened the heart of his -own father. It was indeed a day of general -thanksgiving when this young man put him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span>self -in the way of a higher intellectual development -and entered Gorham Academy as one -of its students. This was one of the best -academies in the country at that day. Its -presiding genius was Master Nason who was -known far and wide, not only as one who -could keep rude boys in subjection to school -rules by a liberal use of the birch, but as one -who possessed faculty and power to stir the -minds of pupils and impart to them rich stores -of knowledge. New England has seen few -instructors equal to Master Nason. The names -of boys whom, in the old Academy at Gorham, -he fitted for college, have in several instances -become known all over the country, and some -are known round the world. The Academy is -proud of its roll of graduates, and those who -studied under Mr. Nason have always been -proud of their teacher.</p> - -<p>Young Kellogg now put himself squarely -down to hard work. He was older than are -most boys when they take up the higher -branches of study and begin to point their -way definitely toward college, and he studied -and worked in the Academy like one who is -trying to make up for lost time. Such an -intensity of application to books as was his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> -at this time would have broken down many -students; but Kellogg had a rare stock of good -health and physical strength. He could well -stand the strain of hard study. He had a well-knit -frame. He never forgot how much of -his own power of endurance he derived from -his sturdy habits of toil in field and forest. -He never forgot what a good physical basis -for intellectual work manual labor gives one. -In one of the college boys of his creation in -the Whispering Pine series of books—Henry -Morton—he shows the close connection between -that young man’s hoe and axe and his -leadership of the college class. When Mr. -Kellogg did this, he knew very well what he -was talking about. Seventy years ago these -things largely took the place of the athletic -field of our time, and they filled that place -very well, too. An old fogy may perhaps be -pardoned for saying that in spite of all the -excitement and glory of base-ball and foot-ball -and running and leaping and boating, still the -oil of hoe handle has its virtues as a medicine -for students.</p> - -<p>The life of young Kellogg shows distinctly -two points of turning. The first one was when -he wakened to the consciousness of his mental<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> -powers; when he realized something of what -he was and determined that he would live on -the high level of his intellectual self. A young -horse that has in him the elements of speed to -win a race on the track is trained for the track. -The horse of great weight is put into the truck -team. Animals are put in training, according -to what they are. When Kellogg realized -something of his own intellectual power, then -he put himself in training for an intellectual -life. He therefore went into the Academy -that he might fit for college. After he had -begun work in the Academy there came to him -another consideration, and he asked the question: “Is a life of mere scholarship the highest -and best one of which I am capable?” He felt -surely that he ought to live up to the level -of his mind, but he began to feel that there -was some power in himself superior to that -of brains and that that higher power should -be developed and his own life should be devoted -to that which was supreme. He felt -strongly that he should not allow the spiritual -element of his nature to lie dormant or go to -waste. The diamond that is not ground on -the wheel is just as hard as the one that is -ground, but it does not sparkle and flash like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> -the one on which the lapidary has spent his -skill. The uncut diamond is like the man -who stops in the classical school and does not -care for the infinitely finer work that religion -does for him. Mr. Kellogg felt that it was -not enough for him to have power. The power -that was in him should be dedicated to the divinest -ends. It should be religiously dedicated -and consecrated. This was the second turning -of his life, and when it was made he had -become an earnest and devoted Christian. He -understood Christianity to mean that he should -employ the faculties and powers of his own -nature in helping other people to lead better -and more wholesome lives. Christianity meant -more than self-culture; it meant self-giving. -If there was in himself (as there certainly was) -a large element of fun, this was by no means -to be suppressed or sent into eclipse. Religion -would not maim him that way any more than -religion would clip the wings of a robin and -make a mole of the bird. But religion would -take that spirit of fun and cause it to play -and shine and work for the production of purer -thinking and cleaner living and higher aiming -among all young people.</p> - -<p>It was in obedience to this new spirit that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> -Elijah went to work at once outside of the -Academy as well as in it, and he then started -some streams of religious influence that have -by no means ceased running even to this day. -Among the things he did at this period was -to go into a certain neighborhood not many -miles from Gorham and start a Sunday-school. -It seems easy enough to <i>say</i> that the young -man went into a certain place and organized -a Sunday-school, but from all accounts it was -by no means an easy or even a safe thing for -that young man to do. Three score and odd -years ago—long before the days of Neal Dow -and the Maine Law—there were certain -regions here and there in the State where -those people who were ignorant and given to -drink and other forms of vice were sure to -congregate like birds of ill omen, and there -would be a neighborhood from which respectable -people would keep away. Such a community -was a multiplied Ishmael whose hand -was against every man and every man’s hand -against it. On one of these disreputable districts -Elijah’s attention became fixed. With -two or three of the people who lived there he -had in some way become acquainted, and he “felt a call” to preach in that place. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> -even Elijah Kellogg, young, brave, and stout-hearted -as he was, shrank from going there -alone with an invitation to a Sunday-school -to be sent abroad among that class of folk. -He feared what might come from such a movement, -and wished for a companion to share -his fortunes. He appealed to a young friend, -George L. Prentiss, afterward for many years -an honored professor in Union Theological -Seminary in New York, to go with him. But -the response of Prentiss to this request was -not favorable. “No, Elijah,” was his word,“I don’t dare to go down there. They will -kill us if we do.” Then after a moment’s -pause, “I’ll tell you what I will do. If you -go down there and start a Sunday-school and -don’t get killed, I’ll come in later and help -you.” But Elijah had set his heart on doing -the bit of work, and was not to be scared out -of it. He started on his mission alone, and I -doubt if Judson on his way to India, or Livingstone -going to Africa, did a more heroic -thing than that. He did start a Sunday-school, -and he did get the people interested in both -himself and his school, and through his influence -the community was transformed, and to-day -the descendants of those people are an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> -intelligent, God-fearing, church-going, high-minded -class of citizens, and they are such because -of Mr. Kellogg. He never forgot them, -and they never forgot him. The writer of -this article was present in company with Mr. -Kellogg at the fiftieth anniversary of the inauguration -of that school. The season was -mid-summer. The day was Sunday. The -place was the church. The audience was everybody -who lived in the district, supplemented -by a large number who had driven thither from -Portland, Westbrook, Gorham, Scarboro, and -Saco. The larger share of those who had -gathered were not able to get inside the church, -but they crowded as close to the wide open -windows as possible and heard what they could. -After brief introductory exercises, Mr. Kellogg -preached a most beautiful and touching sermon -of some twenty minutes’ length. Then the -Bible was closed, and a period of story-telling -began. There were present some four or five -persons who remembered the “first day of -school” fifty years before. They all talked. -Reminiscences were called up, old scenes revived, -old stories told, old experiences related, -and the old time was contrasted with the new. -It was all of it immensely funny. Sometimes it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> -was crying, but a good deal more it was laughing. -My own feeling at the moment was that -it was fortunate the windows were open, for -otherwise the house must have burst. I do -not think there ever was another church than -that since churches were built where was heard -so much laughter and manifested so much fun -and wit on Sunday.</p> - -<p>Mr. Kellogg got through with the Academy, -and entered Bowdoin College in 1836. It is -worthy of note that in all his long life he -never shuffled off the boy. It was not a mere -memory on his part that he once was a boy. -The genuine boy was never a memory with -him, but was always a present reality. In one -sense he was as young at eighty as he was at -eighteen. Boys were his mates always. There -are men who, like Oliver Wendell Holmes, never -grow old, and Mr. Kellogg was one of them. -To the very last his lips would smile and his -eyes would twinkle as he recalled some prank -of his boyhood or told tales of those who had -been his companions on the ship and on the -farm and in the school. He never forgot a -friend, and he certainly never forgot a funny -or laughable incident. His own perennial boyhood -has cheered and made more noble an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span> -almost numberless band of young lives throughout -the country, and may the time be long -before the young people of the land shall cease -to read his wholesome books.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="COLLEGE_AND_SEMINARY" id="COLLEGE_AND_SEMINARY"></a>COLLEGE AND SEMINARY</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Henry Leland Chapman</span></p> - - -<p>It was in 1836, in the twenty-fourth year of -his age, that Elijah Kellogg entered Bowdoin -College as a Freshman. His father had been -one of the earliest and firmest friends of the -college. As one of the Cumberland County -Association of Ministers he had joined in the -petition to the General Court of Massachusetts -for the establishment of a collegiate institution -in the province of Maine. When in answer -to the petition of the ministers, and of -the Court of Sessions of Cumberland County, -the college was incorporated in 1794, Mr. -Kellogg was named as one of the first board -of overseers. Four years later he became a -trustee, and continued to hold that official -relation to the college until 1824. During -his boyhood, therefore, and before he cherished -any purpose or desire to enjoy its privileges, -Elijah must have heard, within the family cir<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span>cle, -much about the college which was so great -an object of interest and pride to his father, -as it was, indeed, to the whole community. -It was but natural, therefore, when his purpose -was seriously formed to seek a college -training in preparation for his father’s calling -of the ministry, that Bowdoin, aside from its -proximity to his home, should be the college -of his choice. But his course collegeward was -interrupted and delayed by various circumstances, -and particularly by personal tastes -that were quite other than scholastic. Always -a lover of the sea, and delighting in the tales -of sea life and adventure to which he listened -from the lips of sailors themselves along the -Portland wharves, it is not strange that the -call of the sea sounded louder than any other -in his ears. So, listening to the call, he shipped -before the mast, and for three years lived -the hard and perilous life of a sailor. It is -true that the experience, which may have been -useful to him in other ways also, was an admirable -preparation for the brilliant service -which he afterwards performed as chaplain -of the Sailor’s Home in Boston, but in the -meantime it made him late in entering upon -his college life. It is to be said, however,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> -that of his thirty classmates six were as old -as himself.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"><a id="p028"></a> -<img src="images/p028.jpg" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Eunice McClellan Kellogg.</span><br /> -Mother of Elijah Kellogg.</div> -</div> - -<p>We must look to certain volumes of the -Whispering Pines series, and particularly to -the volumes entitled “The Spark of Genius,” “The Sophomores of Radcliffe,” and “The -Whispering Pine,” for a picture of his college -life, true in its general features, and graphic -like everything from Mr. Kellogg’s pen. These -books, which have been read with eager interest -by so many generations of boys, describe -Bowdoin College, its professors, students, customs, -and manners as they were known to Elijah -Kellogg during the years of his residence -there from 1836 to 1840. If they seem to be -devoted largely to a recital of pranks and mischief -and practical jokes among the students, -it is partly because such things made a stronger -appeal to scheming brains, and youthful fellowship, -and leisure hours in those days, before athletic -sports enlisted, as they have since enlisted, -the restless energy and high spirits and intense -rivalry of college boys; and partly, also, it was -because his native sense of humor and love of -fun, his spirit of adventure and personal courage, -constituted an ever present temptation to -him to share or lead in enterprises which de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span>manded -wariness and cunning and pluck, and -which promised the discomfiture of some boastful -and unloved fellow-student, or the perplexed -disapproval of the college authorities, -or the entertainment of a college community -always keenly appreciative of a diverting -sensation. So alive was he to this phase of -student activity, and so conspicuous was he -among his mates for resourcefulness and courage, -that he became, in the popular opinion -of his time and in subsequent tradition, the -hero of many an escapade with which he had -no connection. One instance, however, of -strenuous effort quite outside his college duties -seems to be well authenticated, and will -serve to show the kind of mischievous exploit -which was attractive enough to enlist his cooperation.</p> - -<p>The president of the college during the first -three years of Kellogg’s course was a man of -great dignity and reserve. He held himself -quite aloof from the students, neither inviting -nor allowing any freedom of social intercourse. -Partly on this account he was unpopular with -the student body, and the solemn reserve in -which he intrenched himself seemed, in their -eyes, to make any infringement, however<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> -slight, of his personal dignity particularly humorous. -There was much irreverent laughter, -therefore, when it was whispered about on one -occasion that the silk hat which the president -was accustomed to wear, and which seemed -the very crown and symbol of his formal stateliness, -had been stolen, and was in the hands -of some of the students. When it came to -the ears of Kellogg he remarked that if he -knew the boys that had the hat he would put -it on the top of the chapel spire. Of course -the interesting information was not long withheld -from him, and in the darkness of a showery -night he climbed sturdily up by the slender -and insecure pathway of the lightning-rod, -and placed the hat on the very top, where, in -the morning, it met the dismayed vision of -the president, and received the boisterous salutations -of the college. That was Kellogg’s -contribution to the deed of mischief. To -steal the hat was a petty and foolish trick, -such as might be perpetrated by a half-witted -person, a coward, or a thief; but to carry it -through the darkness to the top of the chapel -spire required a clear head, a stout heart, good -muscle, and nerve, and these Elijah Kellogg -possessed, both in youth and manhood.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> - -<p>In reading these books, which tell the substantial -history of his life at Bowdoin, it is -quite evident that, with all the interest he -took in the pastimes and pranks of his associates, -he was not unmindful of the high and -serious purpose of a college course. He maintained -a consistent ideal of personal integrity -and helpfulness and truth. It is the repeated -testimony of those who were in college with -him that his influence upon his fellow-students -was in a high degree stimulating and wholesome. “He was,” says one who knew him -well in the intimacy of college association, “universally popular, but he had his own -chosen favorites, and one characteristic of -him was his strong personal affection for them. -His soul burned with love to those whom he -loved. This was one secret of his power for -good, for his influence upon them was always -good.” An unaffected scorn of what was mean -or false, and an eagerness to recognize and to -make the most of every good and generous -trait in his companions, were as characteristic -of him as was his light-hearted, fun-loving disposition, -and it is easy to see why he won -both the respect and love of those who were -admitted to his friendship.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p> - -<p>These engaging qualities of his youth were -no less those of his age, and they made him -throughout life the friend of boys and the -favorite of boys. He never lost the spirit of -sympathy and comradeship with young men, -and as his home, during the later years of -his life, was not far from the college that he -loved, he had a double motive to revisit, from -time to time, the scene of those labors and -frolics and friendships which he had so charmingly -depicted in the Whispering Pine books. -Accordingly he presented himself, now and -then, either unexpectedly or upon invitation, -at the door of some undergraduate member of -his college fraternity, the Alpha Delta Phi, -and became, for as long as he would stay, a -welcome and honored guest.</p> - -<p>It did not take long for the news to spread -that Elijah Kellogg was in college; and then -the hospitable room would be visited by many -callers, eager to greet the shy, weather-beaten -little man, whose heart was always warm for -boys, and even the mazy wrinkles of whose -face seemed to speak less of age than of kindness. -And by the evening lamp an interested -circle of students forgot the morrow’s lessons -as they listened to stories of olden time, and to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> -quaint words of counsel and comment as they -fell from the visitor’s lips. When the circle -finally dissolved, and Mr. Kellogg and his -entertainers were left alone, a psalm, which -seemed somehow to gain new meaning from -his reading of it, and a simple earnest prayer, -brought the long evening to a fitting and -memorable close.</p> - -<p>It is interesting, moreover, to notice, as an -evidence of the profound regard and affection -which the Bowdoin students felt for Mr. -Kellogg, that when, in 1901, they published -a volume of Bowdoin tales, no other dedication -of the book was thought of than the one -which inscribes it to the memory of Elijah -Kellogg, “who celebrated his Alma Mater -in story, honored her by practical piety, and -won the hearts of her boys, his brethren.” If -he was not eminent in the prescribed studies -of the college, neither was he neglectful of -them, nor unfaithful to them. Perhaps his -enjoyment of college fellowships and his love -of fun interfered to some extent with his devotion -to the classics and mathematics, which -made up a large part of the curriculum, and, -in addition, the necessity under which he lay -of providing for his own expenses must have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> -diverted a part of his energies from study to -manual toil. But whether at work, at play, -or at study, he was hearty and resourceful. -An incident, as told by himself, illustrates -this trait of his character, and, incidentally, -introduces the president whose sombre dignity -provoked the stealing and subsequent disposal -of his hat, as already related.</p> - -<p>“I had to work my way through college,” -said Mr. Kellogg, “and I boarded with a -woman named Susan Dunning. I came to -her house one Saturday. There was a deep -snow on the ground, and college was to open -Monday. She was feeling very blue because -her well-sweep had broken. I told her not to -mind, I’d fix it. The snow was too deep to -get the cattle out, so I took a sled, and going -to a wood-lot cut a big, heavy pole, it took -a big one, too, for an old well-sweep. I put it -on the sled, and tried to haul it back; but the -long end dragging in the deep snow made -that impossible. So, instead of hauling it, I -took hold of the end and started pushing it -home. It was hard work, but to make it -worse President Allen met me and remarked, -‘Well, Kellogg, I have heard of putting the -cart before the horse, but I never saw it done<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> -before;’ then he burst into a hearty laugh, -and that’s the only time I ever saw him even -smile in all the years I knew him.”</p> - -<p>Besides President Allen, who was a man of -learning and piety, as well as soberness, and -whose single laugh, as chronicled by Mr. -Kellogg, may perhaps be extenuated on the -ground that it was indulged in before the -term began, it was a notable group of men -under whose influence and instruction Mr. -Kellogg came during his residence at Bowdoin. -There was Professor Alpheus S. Packard, -whose elegant culture and kindly heart -and beautiful face relieved the tedium of the -Greek class-room, and impressed themselves -upon the grateful memories of not less than -sixty classes of Bowdoin students. There -was Professor Thomas C. Upham, the quaint -and shy philosopher, who had in himself so -much of the mystic and seer combined with -the patient metaphysical analyst that it sent -him from time to time into bursts of religious -song, and assured his name an honored -place among the hymn-writers as well as -among the philosophers. There was Professor -Samuel P. Newman, who, by precept and -criticism, imparted as much as can be imparted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> -of the art of rhetoric, in which Mr. Kellogg -was to become so much of a proficient. There -was Professor William Smyth, rugged, impetuous, -and true, an apostle of abolition, an -enthusiastic champion of popular education -and, indeed, of every good cause, and, above -all, a profound and famous mathematician, -about whom Mr. Kellogg relates the somewhat -apocryphal story of the “Mathematician -in Shafts,” not, as may be seen, to suggest -ridicule, but in a sort of fond and amused -recognition of his unique and vigorous personality. -And finally, not to make the -catalogue too long, there was Professor Parker -Cleaveland, the distinguished scholar and -teacher of chemistry and mineralogy, and a -man of idiosyncrasies as striking as were his -gifts. In a beautiful memorial sonnet Longfellow -said of him:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">“Among the many lives that I have known</div> - <div class="verse">None I remember more serene and sweet,</div> - <div class="verse">More rounded in itself, and more complete.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>“From Seniors to Freshmen,” says Mr. Kellogg, “all believed in, loved, and were proud of -the reputation of the scholarly, kind-hearted, -democratic, and, at times, compassionate<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> -professor.” And at the close of the chapter -which is devoted to illustrations of Professor -Cleaveland’s eccentric ways and beneficent -influence, Mr. Kellogg is moved to this earnest -and affectionate expression of his reverence: “Blessings on thy memory, faithful -one,—faithful even unto death,—to whom -was committed the gift to stir young hearts -to noble enterprise and manly effort; who -knew how to train the youthful eye to look -upon, and the heart to pant after, the goal -thou hadst reached! Those most amused -with thy peculiarities loved thee best. From -hence removed to the presence and enjoyment -of Him whose wisdom, power, and goodness, -manifested in the material world, thou to us -didst so worthily explain and illustrate, we -shall behold thy form and press thy hand no -more; but only with life shall we surrender -the memory of him who united the attributes -of both teacher and friend.”</p> - -<p>It is impossible that under the personal influence -of these teachers, and of their instruction, -young Kellogg, with his frank and -susceptible nature, should not have been -stimulated to intellectual effort, and to moral -earnestness, and that he should not have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> -retained in subsequent life some impress from -their vigorous and scholarly and noble characters. -How much he owed them in the -direction and the development of his powers -we may not say. It is never possible to -measure, or to estimate exactly, the total -influence of a teacher’s life and work upon -his pupils. It acts often in ways that do -not disclose themselves to our perception; it -touches the young men at points and moments -of which we do not know the responsive or -the repelling significance; it often produces -effects which are the very opposite of what we -should predict; it falls into the ground and -dies, as it were, and years afterward springs -up and bears fruit in a form so changed that -we do not recognize the seed in the resulting -harvest; it is often hidden in the hearts of the -young men, and works by way of impulse or -restraint so subtly that they themselves are -not conscious of it; and so we can never tell -to what extent a young man’s character has -been formed or modified by the influence of -his teachers. But there is certainly some -indication of Mr. Kellogg’s own estimate -of what he owed to college instruction and -stimulus in the ardent and unwavering affec<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span>tion -which he always exhibited for his Alma -Mater, and which was abundantly reciprocated -in the reverent honor accorded to him by the -college, and by all its students and alumni. -At the one-hundredth anniversary of the college, -in 1894, there were more than a thousand -graduates assembled at the banquet in a -mammoth tent on the campus. Mr. Kellogg -had, with some difficulty, been persuaded to -be present. He was, of course, called upon -for a speech; and when he rose to respond, -every graduate, young and old, in the great -company was instantly on his feet, cheering -and shouting a glad salute. It was a touching -and memorable ovation, and the flush of -troubled happiness that flitted across his -bronzed and wrinkled face was something long -to be remembered, as was also his glowing -tribute of affection for the college, which was -his answer to the welcome of his brethren.</p> - -<p>In Mr. Kellogg’s student days the chief -literary interest and activity of the undergraduates, -and no small part of their more -formal social life, centred about two societies, -the Peucinean and the Athenæan. Between -these two societies there was intense rivalry in -securing accessions from among the more de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span>sirable -members of newly entering classes, in -public exhibitions and anniversary exercises, -and in the distribution of college and class -honors. Each society possessed a considerable -library of carefully selected books, and each -held regular weekly meetings for literary exercises -consisting of essays, poems, declamations, -and debates. Kellogg was an active -and esteemed member of the Peucinean society, -and contributed not a little to the -interest of its meetings in the several features -of their literary programmes. Mr. Henry H. -Boody, of the class of 1842, and subsequently -professor of rhetoric and oratory in the college -from 1845 to 1854, recalls the fact that at the -meetings of the Peucinean society, “we used to -consider a poem by Kellogg as a very rare -treat,” and then adds that perhaps “our liking -for the man influenced our judgment as to the -merit of his productions in that line.” However -that may be, it is evident that his gifts of -tongue and pen were freely exercised during -his undergraduate days, and that the charm -of them was felt and acknowledged by his -college associates.</p> - -<p>In Mr. Kellogg’s Junior year a literary -magazine, the second venture of the kind at<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> -Bowdoin, was projected by some of the students, -and made its first appearance, under -the name of the <i>Bowdoin Portfolio</i>, in April, -1839. Its advent was heralded, in a manner -somewhat figurative and characteristic of the -time, by an editorial note, of which the following -are some of the first sentences:—</p> - -<p>“A short time since, as we were sitting -quietly in our room discussing the common -topics of the day, we were suddenly surprised -and pleased by the entrance of a comely -youth, of an ideal nature, that is, made up of -the immaterial mind, but who had embodied -himself in a visible form. He was arrayed in -a neat, simple garb, evidently preferring pure -simplicity to ostentatious splendor, and wishing -to attract notice, not so much by a showy -dress and gorgeous outward appearance, as by -the spiritual within, made clear and comprehensible -by the outward representation. On -his front he bore the name of ’Bowdoin Portfolio,’ -and in communing with him we found -a most entertaining and agreeable companion. -He was just making his debut into the literary -world, and it was with modesty and timidity -that he declared to us his intentions of speedily -making his bow, and paying court to the -public.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> - -<p>There is no indication that Mr. Kellogg -was connected with the editorial board of the -<i>Portfolio</i>, but there are contributions from -him in three of the seven numbers that were -published, and all his contributions are of -verse. This fact recalls the testimony that -has been quoted as to the pleasure with which -his poems were received at the meetings of -the Peucinean society. Altogether it seems -as if, during his college days, his tastes led -him to the cultivation of poetry, and as if -the impression he made upon his college -mates was rather by his verse than by his -prose.</p> - -<p>One of the poems in the <i>Portfolio</i> is a -clever translation of a Latin epitaph upon a -moth miller which “came bustling through -the window directly into the editorial taper, -and fell lifeless upon the sheet of paper.” A -part of the epitaph in Kellogg’s verse is as -follows:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">“Whose greatest crime was to intrude</div> - <div class="verse">Upon a Poet’s solitude;</div> - <div class="verse">Whose saddest fortune was to fly</div> - <div class="verse">In a Poet’s lamp, and cheated die.</div> - <div class="verse">Ah! punishment to rashness due,</div> - <div class="verse">How certain! and how direful too!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> - <div class="verse">The silly Moth thus seeking light</div> - <div class="verse">Is overwhelmed in shades of night;</div> - <div class="verse">So Youth pursuing Pleasure’s ray</div> - <div class="verse">O’ertakes grim Death upon the way!”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>The Latin of the epitaph is of that obvious -kind which an American college boy is likely -to write, and there is really more distinction -in Kellogg’s translation than in the original.</p> - -<p>The other poems contributed by Kellogg to -the <i>Portfolio</i> are entitled, “The Phantoms of -the Mind,” and “The Demon of the Sea.” -They are both vigorous in sentiment and correct -in form, and the opening lines of the -latter remind us of the author’s early, and, -indeed, lifelong passion for the sea:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">“Ah, tell me not of your shady dells</div> - <div class="verse">Where the lilies gleam, and the fountain wells,</div> - <div class="verse">Where the reaper rests when his task is o’er,</div> - <div class="verse">And the lake-wave sobs on the verdant shore,</div> - <div class="verse">And the rustic maid, with a heart all free,</div> - <div class="verse">Hies to the well-known trysting-tree;</div> - <div class="verse">For I’m the God of the rolling sea,</div> - <div class="verse">And the charms of earth are nought to me.</div> - <div class="verse">O’er the thundering chime of the breaking surge,</div> - <div class="verse">On the lightning’s wing my pathway urge,</div> - <div class="verse">On thrones of foam right joyous ride,</div> - <div class="verse">’Mid the sullen dash of the angry tide.”</div> -</div></div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span></p> -<p>It is not altogether fancy that recognizes in -such lines as these hints of the impetuous and -stirring rhetoric of Mr. Kellogg’s later prose, -especially on occasions when his deepest feelings -were moved, and he spoke of love and -duty, of character and destiny, of life and -immortality, out of the fulness of his conviction, -and with the ardor and eloquence of his -sensitive and poetic nature.</p> - -<p>So passed his college days, in the keen enjoyment -of generous comradeship, in the instinctive -indulgence of his fondness for fun -and frolic, in the cheerful acceptance of the -burden of defraying his own expenses, in -manly fidelity to the appointed studies of the -course, and in the voluntary and congenial -exercise of the literary gifts with which he -was endowed, and through which he has made -so many of us his debtors. And through it -all he preserved the unaffected simplicity and -purity of heart, the reverence for truth, and -the consideration and charity for his fellows, -which were the winning characteristics of his -whole life.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Mr. Kellogg’s theological training in immediate -preparation for the ministry was received<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> -at Andover Theological Seminary from 1840 -to 1843. The intellectual and social conditions -which prevail at the professional school -are quite unlike those of the college. It does -not have the same atmosphere of venerated -tradition and compelling custom, nor is it the -scene of a life so varied and buoyant. The -students are older, more sedate, and more intent -upon the special studies of the place. -They have passed through the period of boyish -effervescence and frolic, of ardent and generous -comradeship, of steadfast friendships and -changing schemes of life, of relative unconcern -for what lies beyond the horizon of the -college world—and the period is not to be -repeated. They are committed to common -pursuits and ambitions, and are sobered by -the duties and responsibilities of life to which -they are sensibly drawing near.</p> - -<p>In his college life Mr. Kellogg found the -material for a series of sparkling stories, evidently -as congenial to himself as they have -been interesting to his readers; but of life in -the seminary he has given us no picture. -This is not to the discredit of the honored -school of theology to which he went, nor does -it imply that he did not enter into its studies<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> -and its life with heartiness and joy, but it is -a natural result of the distinction which has -been suggested between the college and the -professional school. The picturesque nook or -landscape attracts the pencil or the brush of -the artist, but his choice does not discredit the -thousand scenes of field and pasture and hill -and woodland which he passes by as unsuited -to his artistic purpose.</p> - -<p>It is enough to mention the names of -Moses Stuart, Bela Edwards, Leonard Woods, -Ralph Emerson, and Edwards Park, to show -that Mr. Kellogg was as fortunate in his -teachers at the seminary as he had been at -the college. They were men of profound -learning, of stimulating influence, of consecrated -character, and of great and deserved -reputation. They could not fail to quicken -and enrich both his intellectual and his spiritual -nature, and to send him forth fully -instructed, as well as profoundly eager, to -preach with persuasiveness and power, as he -did preach for nearly half a century.</p> - -<p>It was while he was a student in the seminary -that Mr. Kellogg wrote the famous -declamation, “Spartacus to the Gladiators,” -as well as some others, almost equally famous,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> -of the same general character. It was written -for one of the prescribed rhetorical exercises -of the course, at which the writer or speaker -was publicly criticised by members of the -student body, and also by the professor in -charge. Mr. Kellogg, always timid at the -prospect of open and formal criticism of his -writing or speech, greatly dreaded the ordeal, -and resolved to write something which should -so interest his hearers by its unusual subject-matter -as to divert their minds from the -thought of criticism. His scheme was completely -successful. The students listened with -breathless attention, and were dumb when -the speech was concluded. To the inquiry of -Professor Park if there were any criticisms -to be offered, not a voice was raised; and the -professor himself remarked that though -there were some things, perhaps, that might -be said in criticism, yet it was so admirable a -specimen of masterful rhetoric that he should -say nothing. It has been considered so much -of a masterpiece in its kind, that at Andover -they still point out No. 20 Bartlett Hall as -the room in which it was written.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" ><a id="p048"></a> -<img src="images/p048.jpg" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">House on Cumberland Street, Portland, Maine, in which Elijah Kellogg lived when a boy.</span></div> -</div> - -<p>There is an unmistakable dramatic quality -in the conception and speech of “Spartacus,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span>” -as there were hints of such a dramatic quality -in some of Mr. Kellogg’s sermons in later -years, and it is interesting to note that, in his -Senior year at Andover, he wrote a “dialogue,” -or brief play, called “The Honest -Deserter,” which was performed by the Philomathean -Society of Phillips Academy. The -occasion of its presentation was considered of -so much interest and importance that an elm -tree was planted in the Phillips yard in commemoration -of the event.</p> - -<p>When in his Senior year as a theological -student Mr. Kellogg went to Harpswell to -preach for some weeks, his personality and -his preaching, his love of the sea and his -kindly human qualities, so won the hearts of -the Harpswell people that they besought him -to return to Harpswell after his graduation, -and become their pastor. To their urgent -request he yielded, being himself much attracted -by the people and their home by the -sea. It was in 1844 that he was publicly -installed over the church, and the official tie -of pastor to the Harpswell church was severed -only by his death.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="EARLY_HARPSWELL_DAYS" id="EARLY_HARPSWELL_DAYS"></a>EARLY HARPSWELL DAYS</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Wilmot Brookings Mitchell</span></p> - - -<p>Harpswell, Maine, is a seaboard, almost a -sea-girt, town. It is made up of a long, narrow -neck of land and forty islands, some -containing hundreds of acres, others almost -entirely covered by the tide. Indenting the -shore of this peninsula and the larger islands -are sheltered inlets of deep water well suited -to the building and harboring of ships. Hither -came, during the first half of the eighteenth -century, from Boston, Scituate, York, and -other settlements, men and women of Puritan -stock and Puritan ways of thinking; -and here grew up large families, hardy and -God-fearing, some farmers, but most of them -fishermen, sailors, and ship-builders.</p> - -<p>Elijah Kellogg could not long attend -Bowdoin College, only a few miles distant, -without being attracted to these sea-going -people of Harpswell; for Kellogg was born<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> -with webbed feet. When hardly out of the -cradle, family tradition has it, he went to sail -in Back Cove, Portland, with a sugar-box for -a boat and his shirt for a sail. As a youngster -he would often steal to the Fore Street -wharves to watch the ships, and he was never -so happy as when listening to the yarns -which the sailors spun. He says of himself, “At ten years of age I began to climb the -rigging, and at fifteen went to sea.” His -years in the “fo’c’sle,” with all their perilous -and disagreeable tasks, only intensified his -love for the water. As a Freshman he took -supreme delight in sailing with a good comrade, -on a Saturday afternoon, in his little -cat-rigged boat, the <i>Cadet</i>, among the islands -of Casco Bay.</p> - -<p>One of these half-holiday expeditions affected, -as it happened, his whole after-life. -The <i>Cadet</i>, belated by wind and tide, ran -ashore on Birch Island, and “Captain” Kellogg -and crew, supperless and weary, sought -shelter at the house of Captain John Skolfield. -Mr. Kellogg never forgot how cosily -the light from the house that evening -shone through the hop vines growing over -and around the windows. The hospitable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> -islander gave the wayfarers a warm welcome -and a plentiful supper; for which hospitality, -before the evening ended, Kellogg, full of -stories of college and the sea, made his host -feel well repaid. Thus began his acquaintance -with the Birch Islanders,—the Skolfields, -Curtises, and Merrimans,—an acquaintance -which was to ripen into a life-long friendship. -The men on this island, hardy, powerful, and -fearless, at once became heroes in the admiring -eyes of this venture-loving student. After -this he spent many happy hours building -boats, gunning and fishing with Captain John, -or spinning yarns and reading aloud with “Uncle Joe” Curtis,—a man who read every -book he could get hold of and who remembered -everything he read.</p> - -<p>From Birch Island to Harpswell Neck, -where Eaton’s store and the church were -located, is but a short row; there Kellogg -often went to buy something for his boat, or -to worship on the Sabbath. Before long he -had many friends and admirers upon the -mainland; for these people had but to see the -sharp-eyed, brown, wiry “colleger,” and hear -his stories, or listen to his earnest and eloquent -exhortations in the prayer-meeting, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> -order to love him. It was with them, as -well as with him, love at first sight; and -by the time he was a Sophomore they had -plighted troth. Learning that he was to -study for the ministry, they must have him -for their preacher; and he, half jokingly -perhaps, told them if he lived to get through -the seminary and they built a new church, -he would come to preach for them.</p> - -<p>After graduation at Bowdoin, Kellogg began -the study of theology at Andover. When -his course at the seminary was near its close, -Professor Thomas C. Upham, who had been -so stanch a friend of the Harpswell church -that Mr. Kellogg once said it owed its very -existence to him, came to Andover with a -message from the Harpswell people that the -timber for the new church was on the spot, -and they still wanted him for a preacher. -The bearer of the message evidently saw in -the young preacher the salvation of the -Harpswell church; for he reënforced this reminder -of the promise Kellogg had made in -his student days by the emphatic prophecy -that God would curse him as long as he lived -if he did not go. Influenced somewhat by -these prophetic words, but probably much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> -more by his love for the place and the people -and the opportunity he saw of doing good, he -turned away from a call to a much larger -church and went to Harpswell, where, as he -said many years later, he found that “obedience -is sweet and not servitude.”</p> - -<p>Although Mr. Kellogg, in response to this informal -invitation, began at once to supply the -pulpit in the old church, a formal call to settle -as pastor was not extended to him until the -next year. The reason for this becomes apparent -upon an examination of the church -records.</p> - -<p>The original Harpswell church and parish -were at this time passing through a transition -period. Formed in 1751, the parish was at -first identical with the town. The preacher’s -salary and other church expenses were assessed -by the town officers as taxes. But -later, other churches having been built and -other denominations having sprung up, many -citizens objected to being taxed for the support -of the minister, and some absolutely refused -to pay such taxes. A troublesome question -concerning the control and ownership of the -first church building also arose between the -town and the parish. Accordingly the sup<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span>porters -of the Congregational church organized -a new society and erected a new church -building.</p> - -<p>This church was dedicated September 28, -1843. For this dedication the following poem -was written by Mr. Kellogg:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">“Here, ’mid the strife of wind and waves</div> - <div class="verse">Upon a wild and stormy sod,</div> - <div class="verse">Beside our fathers’ homes and graves,</div> - <div class="verse">We consecrate a house to God.</div> - <div class="verse">“Here, on many a pebbly shore,</div> - <div class="verse">Old Ocean flings his feathery foam,</div> - <div class="verse">And close beside the breaker’s roar</div> - <div class="verse">The seaman builds his island home.</div> - <div class="verse">“’Mid giant cliffs that proudly breast</div> - <div class="verse">And backward fling the winter’s spray,</div> - <div class="verse">’Mid isles in greenest verdure dressed,</div> - <div class="verse">’Tis meet that rugged men should pray.</div> - <div class="verse">“Its spire shall be the last to meet</div> - <div class="verse">The parting seaman’s lingering eye,</div> - <div class="verse">The first his homeward step to greet,</div> - <div class="verse">And point him to a home on high.</div> - <div class="verse">“Here shall the force of sacred truth</div> - <div class="verse">Defeat the Tempter’s wildest rage,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> - <div class="verse">Subdue the fiery heart of youth</div> - <div class="verse">And cheer the drooping strength of age.</div> - <div class="verse">“And when the watch of life is o’er</div> - <div class="verse">May we, where runs no stubborn tide,</div> - <div class="verse">No billows break, nor tempests roar,</div> - <div class="verse">In Heaven’s high port at anchor ride.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>The records show that on April 25, 1844, -with Professor Upham as moderator, it was “moved and voted that the church of the -Centre Congregational Society in Harpswell -do hereby invite and call Mr. Elijah Kellogg -to settle with them as their pastor in the -Gospel ministry and [do agree] to pay [him] -by subscription $300 a year for four years -from the first day of June, 1844.” This -call to what proved to be a long and fruitful -pastorate Mr. Kellogg, on May 4, 1844, -accepted in these simple and earnest words: “Brethren and Beloved: I have considered -your call to settle with you as a minister of -the New Testament. It appears to me to be -the will of God pointed out by his providence -that I comply with your invitation, which I -accordingly do, praying that it may be a connection -full of blessed fruits both to pastor -and people.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter" ><a id="p056"></a> -<img src="images/p056.jpg" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Elijah Kellogg’s Church at Harpswell, Maine.</span></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> - -<p>The new pastor was ordained on June 18, -1844. He entered with enthusiasm into his -work. Among these rugged farmers, fishermen, -and sailors, he sought in all ways to -expound and exemplify the teachings of Him -who many years before taught the fishermen -of Galilee. On the Sabbath he preached sermons -so interesting and eloquent that people -came in boat loads from the islands to hear his -words; and he entered familiarly and sympathetically -into the home life of his parishioners. “His little boat might be seen in all -weathers flitting to and fro between mainland -and islands as he made the circuit of his watery -parish in visits of friendship or of consolation, -to officiate at a marriage or a funeral. He -was heartily welcome in every home, for he -knew their domestic life, and seemed to be a -part of it; and he talked of the sea and of -Him who made it in a way that brought him -close to the hearts of his people, and made -religion seem a natural and practical and important -part of daily life. He rebuked wrong-doing, -recognized and applauded every good -act or effort, composed differences between -neighbors, helped in manual toil, comforted -the afflicted, gave to the poor,—and all in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> -such a simple, unconventional, and genuine -fashion, that his people felt that he was one -of them, only better than the rest.<a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>”</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> From an address by Professor Henry L. Chapman, -delivered at the Maine State Congregational Conference, -September, 1901.</p></div> - -<p>The pastor of the early forties was often -formal, arbitrary, and autocratic, seeking to -drive rather than to lead his flock. Between -pastor and people there was too often a great -gulf fixed. But this humorous, unpretentious, -sincere man did not hold himself as of finer -clay than his people. He liked to plant and -reap with his parishioners. To pull rockweed -and pitch hay and chop wood, to swing the -flail and hold the plough, were not beneath his -dignity.</p> - -<p>One Sunday during these first years of his -pastorate, just after reading the usual notices, -he said: “Widow Jones’s grass, I see, needs -mowing. I shall be in her field to-morrow -morning at half-past four with scythe, rake, -and pitch-fork. I shall be glad to see all of -you there who wish to come and help me.” -The next morning found a good crew of men -and boys in the field ready for work. Among -them was a man six feet two in his stock<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span>ing-feet -and weighing some 250 pounds. -Captain Griggs we will call him. As they -were working up the field near each other, -the captain said, “Parson, I am going to -cut your corners this morning.” The little -wiry parson, who had served a good apprenticeship -upon his uncle’s farm in Gorham, whet -his scythe and kept his counsel. The big captain -didn’t cut any of his corners that day. -Indeed, the story goes that before noon the -man who thought that he could mow around -the parson, dropped under a tree, exhausted -by the terrific pace that Kellogg set.</p> - -<p>Before he had completed the first year of -his ministry, Mr. Kellogg was elected a member -of the school committee, on which he -served several years. That he sought to do -his duty on the school board faithfully is -attested by the resolution—heroic it will seem -to some—which he recorded on December 8, -1844. “Having never till this time been fully -convinced of the importance of mathematics -in strengthening the mind and preparing it to -investigate truth, and never having been able -to conquer my dislike for them till led to them -by the study of philosophy and an impression -of the interdependence of all philosophy and all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> -science, I now begin at the bottom and determine -to push my researches as far as possible -and to set down whatever may be worthy -of note. I this day commenced Emerson’s -Arithmetic in order to be prepared to do my -duty thoroughly as one of the superintending -committee.” As committeeman, he did more -than make a perfunctory visit twice a term. -He kept his eyes open for the alert, promising, -studious lad. Such a boy he encouraged, -advised concerning his studies, and often -urged to go to Master Swallow’s school in -Brunswick and fit for college. These boys -he picked carefully, for he didn’t believe in “wasting nails by driving them into rotten -wood.”</p> - -<p>From the first of his ministry to the very -end, Mr. Kellogg showed an instinctive knowledge -of boys, and originality in dealing with -them. Any just estimate of his work and -character must rate high his tact in handling -and influencing boys. Wherever he -preached, boys were quick to see that he -was their friend, a man after their own -heart. They soon found that this unconventional, -simple, eloquent little man, who -had a way of throwing his arm over a boy’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> -shoulder and walking home from the evening -meeting with him, was more than an ordinary -preacher. They found that he could understand -them. They could tell him their jokes -and their serious plans, and he could see -through their eyes and hear through their -ears. They found that he, more perhaps -than any other man they had ever known, -was all the time at heart a boy himself; -that he was interested in them not simply -as a professional duty, but because he -couldn’t help it. He loved boys, was happy -in their companionship, and delighted to -talk of his own boyhood and college days,—of -the time when the frogs by croaking “K’logg, K’logg,” called him away from -school, or when he in recitation informed -his dignified professor that Polycarp was one -of the <i>many</i> daughters of Mr. Carp. He -would swim and sail and farm and fish with -the boys in his parish, and then, at an unexpected -moment, but in a manner not repellent, -he would kneel down in their boat or -in the field by the side of a cock of hay or -a shock of corn and pray with them.</p> - -<p>Many men to-day who were born and bred -in Harpswell like to tell of the way he won<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> -and kept their friendship. Here, for example, -was a boy whom he was taking to Portland -in his boat; the youngster felt very proud, -for his grandmother had intrusted to him -her eggs to take to market. But alas! in -disembarking he dropped the basket, and the -eggs were smashed. The boy’s extremity, -however, was the preacher’s opportunity. By -paying for those eggs from his own pocketbook, -he saved the young marketman no end -of humiliation, and bound him to his soul -with a hoop of steel.</p> - -<p>If one may judge by his journal and correspondence, -no work that Mr. Kellogg did -during his long life afforded him greater satisfaction -or yielded larger returns in affection -and gratitude and right living than his work -with boys. When, for instance, he had -been on Harpswell Neck less than a year, -he heard that a schooner had put into -Potts’s Point, some ten miles below his home, -with a boy on board who had broken his leg. -He knew that this boy on a small schooner -in a strange place would need sadly the comforts -of home. He hastened to him, brought -him to his boarding-place, put him in his own -bed, and nursed him as he would have nursed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> -a son. When the boy was able to go to sea -again, having no money, he could repay his -benefactor for all the trouble and expense he -had been, only with words of kindness and -gratitude. Years afterwards, however, when -Mr. Kellogg was preaching in Boston, a well-dressed -man and woman came into the sailors’ -church, and appeared much interested in the -sermon. At the close of the service they -came forward and spoke to the preacher. -The boy had now become a man—the mate -of a large ship. The bread which the young -minister had cast upon the waters now returned -to him after twenty years, in the -words of affection and encouragement with -which this man and his wife expressed -their gratitude, also in the $50 which, as -they bade him good-by, they left in his -hand.</p> - -<p>For some years Bowdoin College, recognizing -Mr. Kellogg’s power in getting at the -heart of boys, had the custom of sending to -him some of the students whom it rusticated; -and his strong, manly character -brought more than one boy to his better -self. That his treatment of these boys was -not exactly that of Squeers, this instance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> -will show. One young fellow whom the -college sent him was especially rebellious -at first. Through cheap story papers he had -come cheek by jowl with old Sleuth and -his boon companions, and he sought to emulate -them by carrying a revolver and a dirk -knife. Mr. Kellogg told him that as he would -not find any Indians or many wild beasts -down there, he had better surrender his -weapons. This the young man did after -much reluctance. During the first day, Mr. -Kellogg left him to himself, as he was -inclined to sulk. In the evening he began -to talk to the boy indifferently at first, afterwards -kindly. All the time—lover-like—he -kept edging up nearer to him on the big -sofa, and finally in his genuine, whole-souled -way, put his hand affectionately on the lad’s -shoulder. To such treatment the young fellow -was not accustomed. It was so different -from his over-stern father’s that it threw him -entirely off his guard. He could not withstand -the man’s kindly interest and genuine -manner. His rebellious spirit was broken. -The boy dreaded his father’s rebuke, and -the next day, unknown to him, Mr. Kellogg -wrote to his mother, telling all about her son<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> -and urging that the father write to him kindly -and not sternly. A few days after this the -young fellow was surprised and delighted to -receive from home a letter of forgiveness and -encouragement.</p> - -<p>On July 4, there was to be a celebration -in Portland. The boy wished but did not -expect to go. “Well,” said Mr. Kellogg one -day after they had been speaking of the matter, “I am afraid you can’t go. I have no -authority to let you. But, then, I really want -to attend that celebration myself, and I can’t -be expected to leave you at home alone.” -When the day of celebration came, the student -and the preacher could have been seen tramping -the streets of Portland, both, no doubt, -having a right royal good time.</p> - -<p>A few years ago, the heart of the aged -minister was uplifted by the assurance that he -had dealt aright with this high-spirited lad. -A successful business man, the vice-president -of a large western railroad, came many miles -to look again into his kindly face and to tell -him that those weeks of companionship full -of honest counsel marked the turning-point in -his life.</p> - -<p>For the first five years of his life in Harps<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span>well, -Mr. Kellogg boarded at the home of one -of his parishioners, Mr. Joseph Eaton. Here -his mother spent the summers with him, his -father having died in 1843. In 1849 he -bought a farm of thirty-five acres at North -Harpswell, and at once began to build a house -that he might provide a suitable home for his -lame and aged mother. The location of this -house is an attractive one. It is on the western -side of Harpswell Neck, a half-mile or so -from the main-travelled road. From it the -land slopes gently an eighth of a mile, perhaps, -to the shore of Middle Bay. From the windows -of the house which he here built, one -peeping through the oaks and spruces on a -summer’s day may see to the west, across -the sparkling water of the channel, the green -sloping bank of Simpson’s Point, or to the -south Birch and Scrag islands and several -of the other 363 which dot the waters of -Casco Bay. The house itself is a wooden, -two-story, L-shaped farm-house facing the -west, bespeaking nothing of luxury, but -large enough to be airy in the summer, -and in the winter a good place, as Captain -Rhines would say, in which to ride out the -storm.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> - -<p>Much of the material of which the house -is made Mr. Kellogg brought here from -different parts of his parish; some strong -timbers from Ragged Island, three miles out -at sea, fine sand for his mortar from Sand -Island, and the door-stone from Birch. Nearly -all of the larger timbers in his house this -preacher cut and hauled himself. And when -they were on the spot, seventy-five of his -friends and neighbors, giving him a good -surprise, as did those of Lion Ben in the Elm -Island stories, came and hewed the timbers -and framed his house. Little wonder is it -that this house, with its attractive surroundings -and its pleasant associations, was ever to -him the most beautiful place on earth.</p> - -<p>He lived here with his mother and housekeeper -until 1852, when his mother died. -This bereavement took a strong influence out -of his life; for the tactful, firm-willed mother -had played a large part in moulding the character -of her impetuous, venturesome son. In -1854 he married Miss Hannah Pearson Pomeroy, -daughter of Rev. Thaddeus Pomeroy of -Syracuse, New York, previously pastor of the -Congregational church of Gorham, Maine. -Three children were born to them: a son who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> -died in infancy; Frank Gilman, at present in -business in Boston; and Mary Catherine, the -wife of Mr. Harry Batchelder of Melrose -Highlands, Massachusetts.</p> - -<p>The circumstances of Mr. Kellogg’s marriage -are characteristic. While he always -maintained a due respect for women, he was -preeminently a man’s man or perhaps better -a boy’s man. It is not surprising, then, to be -told that his wife was “recommended to him.” -A friend of his at Gorham, rallying him a bit -on his bachelorhood, asked why in the world -he did not marry. “Oh,” said he, “I can -find no one to have me.” Whereupon his -friend replied, “There is your old schoolmate, -Hannah Pomeroy of Syracuse, a minister’s -daughter, well educated, a good school-teacher, -and smart as a whip; just the woman for a -minister’s wife.” What had been the preacher’s -previous plans concerning matrimony is not -known, but before long he took a trip to Syracuse, -and when he returned, the bargain was -practically made. Though apparently so businesslike -a transaction, this proved to be for -more than forty years a happy union. His -friend spoke truly. Had Mr. Kellogg searched -many years, he could not have found a better<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> -helpmate than Hannah Pomeroy. Attractive, -sincere, energetic, practical, she was a prudent, -encouraging wife and a wise, loving mother.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" ><a id="p068"></a> -<img src="images/p068.jpg" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Hannah Pearson Pomeroy Kellogg.</span><br />Wife of Elijah Kellogg.</div> -</div> - -<p>The folk-lore of Harpswell contains many -stories of this minister’s daring on sea and -land and of his original ways in dealing with -both saints and sinners; so original, indeed, -that one rough old admirer on Ragged Island, -whom Mr. Kellogg had influenced for good in -a way that no other minister had ever thought -of doing, said that when Parson Kellogg died, -he was going to carve upon his tombstone -three letters—”D. F. M.” The last two were -to stand for “Funny Minister.”</p> - -<p>This daring parson had upon his farm a -bull that rendered himself extremely obnoxious -to visitors who found it convenient -to reach his house by crossing the pasture. -The bull, therefore, must be disciplined. The -preacher first harnessed Mr. Taurus to the -front wheels of a heavy cart, preparatory to -putting him over the road and showing him -who was master. But before the guiding ropes -had been adequately arranged, the bull on a -mad rush took to the woods, leaving in his -trail fragments of cart-wheels and harness. -The little minister, however, was not thus to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> -be outdone. The next day, at flood-tide, with -tempting fodder he allured the bull to the end -of the wharf and in an unguarded moment -shoved him into the bay. An excellent swimmer, -he then quickly jumped astride the bull’s -back. By grasping his horns and intermittently -thrusting his head under water, with a -prowess which a “broncho-buster” might well -envy, he conquered his steed. Thus, as all -stories rightly end, they lived happily together -ever afterwards.</p> - -<p>Of this pastor’s unconventional methods in -accepting and dispensing gifts of charity, the -following are illustrative. One afternoon, just -before tea, he happened into the house of a -master ship-builder in his parish, a man of -property and influence. The old gentleman -was on the best of terms with the young -preacher, and after passing the time of day, -began to banter him on the condition of his -boots, which were muddy and somewhat the -worse for wear. “Parson, what makes you -wear such disreputable-looking foot-gear?” he -said. “Throw those boots away and let me -get you a new pair.” The parson waited till -later before he fired the return shot. After -all were comfortably seated at the tea-table<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> -and he had said grace, he asked to be excused -for a moment and went to the sitting room. -There a good fire was blazing upon the hearth, -and near by were the master-builder’s best -shoes. Quickly came off the parson’s old -boots, and into the fire they went; and as -quickly went on to stay the master-builder’s -best calfskins.</p> - -<p>One winter day while on Orr’s Island, he -got an inkling that a family there was in distress. -By skilful inquiry he learned that the -father had been drinking badly, and the mother -and children needed food and fuel. Something -must be done at once to relieve them. Going -to the house of a well-to-do parishioner, he -requested the use of his horse and sled for -an hour or two. When they were ready, he -quickly drove up to the man’s woodpile and -loaded the sled generously, while the owner -stood by in wonderment. The only explanation -given was: “That family down there -need fuel badly. You’ve got a plenty, and -I’m going to haul them down a good load.” -And that was explanation enough, for Parson -Kellogg offered it.</p> - -<p>Although so familiar and informal in his -social and pastoral relations, as a preacher he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> -never hesitated to point out to his people -their duty in language that was unmistakable. -Soon after the new church was -built, for example, he told them that increased -privilege means ever increased responsibility. “God has given you,” he said, “a -commodious and elegant place of worship. -Why? That you might sit down and admire -it and be proud of it? Do that, and He will -wither you to the root. Do it, and He will -send leanness into your souls. My dear friends, -we had better, like our Puritan forefathers on -the coast of Holland, kneel down among the -rocks and seaweed in the cold winter to pray -to God with the humble spirit with which -they prayed than to worship Him here in -peace and comfort, surrounded with tasteful -decorations, without that humility. You have -heard of congratulation and praise as much as -you ought to hear. I wish you to look at -your increased responsibility. As God has -made you first in point of privilege, be not -by abusing those privileges the last to attain -salvation.”</p> - -<p>In his pulpit, with plain-spoken words such -as these, and with quaint phrases, and apt -illustrations drawn from the farm, the forest,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> -and the sea, this preacher quickened the conscience, -and broadened the sympathies, and -strengthened the faith of the farmers, fishermen, -and sailors, who heard him gladly. As -a preacher, “he seemed,” says one who knew -him well, “a prophet in the authority with -which he spoke, an evangelist in the tenderness -with which he appealed to the conscience -and set forth the promises of the Gospel, a -poet often in the simple beauty and grace -with which he portrayed the conditions of -human life, and discoursed of the deep things -of God.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="THE_SEAMANS_FRIEND" id="THE_SEAMANS_FRIEND"></a>THE SEAMAN’S FRIEND</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">George Kimball</span></p> - - -<p>At its annual meeting, May 17, 1854, the -Boston Seaman’s Friend Society accepted the -resignation of Rev. George W. Bourne, pastor -of the Mariners’ Church and chaplain of the -Sailors’ Home. The board of managers then -began the search for “a suitable man” for -the vacant position, and their choice fell upon -Rev. Elijah Kellogg of Harpswell, Maine.</p> - -<p>Mr. Kellogg began his duties in September -of that year, with his accustomed earnestness, -and under his ministry the attendance -at the church increased, and a new impulse -was given to the society’s work.</p> - -<p>He first appeared before the society at its -twenty-seventh anniversary, held in Tremont -Temple, May 30, 1855. A large audience was -assembled. President Alpheus Hardy introduced -him in complimentary terms, and he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> -made an eloquent address. His “suitability” -as the seaman’s friend and pastor is shown in -these extracts: “The greater portion of my life -has been spent among seamen, either at sea or -on shore. The first personal effort, to any extent, -I made for the salvation of souls was while -teaching among a community of sailors. The -first sermon I preached was to sailors. The -first couple I united in marriage were a sailor -and his bride. The first child I baptized was -a sailor’s child. The first burial service I performed -was over the body of a seaman. The -society with which I have been connected during -the last eleven years is with scarcely an -exception composed of sailors and their families. -There is not a house in the parish in -which the roar of the surf may not be heard, -and in many of them the Atlantic flings its -spray upon the door-stone.... The men who -interest seamen and do them good have not -any recipe for it; neither can they impart it to -others. It is all instinctive. They love the -webbed feet, and the webbed feet love them.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Kellogg was at this time forty-one years -old. His pleasing personal appearance and his -hearty, rugged, forceful utterance made a -favorable impression upon his hearers.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> - -<p>The task he had undertaken was by no -means an easy one. It involved hard and -constant work, often of a kind little, if at all, -like that of the average clergyman. On the -Sabbath there were in the Mariners’ Church -three services for public worship, and the -Sunday-school. In addition to this work upon -the Sabbath, Mr. Kellogg conducted a social -religious meeting in the reading room of the -Sailors’ Home upon one evening of each week, -and in the winter lectured occasionally in the -church upon topics of vital interest. He visited -sailors upon shipboard and in hospital, offered -the comforts of religion to the sick and -dying, and often communicated to loved ones -the parting message they would never otherwise -have received. For this work the salary -was necessarily small, and the material equipment -not of the best; but Mr. Kellogg did -not hesitate. He threw himself into the work -with zeal and enthusiasm.</p> - -<p>From the establishment of the Seaman’s -Friend Society in 1827 to July 12, 1852, religious -services were held at the Sailors’ -Home, but upon the latter date the building -was burned. The church at the corner of -Summer and Sea streets, which had formerly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> -been owned and used by the Christian Baptists, -was soon after purchased, and on December -30, 1852, was dedicated to the work for -sailors. A church building, in these days, like -the modest bethel in Summer Street would -be regarded as quaint in appearance and ill-adapted -to its uses. It was inferior, in many -ways, even to other churches of its day, but it -was easily accessible to those to whom it especially -ministered (wharves to the south were -then much more fully utilized by shipping than -they now are), and was in the centre of a favorite -residential district; for Fort Hill and surrounding -streets were at that time mainly -occupied by pretentious dwellings.</p> - -<p>The Sailors’ Home, when rebuilt, was a -large brick structure upon the eastern slope of -Fort Hill, at 99 Purchase Street. Here, with -Mr. John O. Chaney as its superintendent, -many of the brave carriers of the commerce of -the world were comfortably housed and cared -for. The Home had a large reading room -and library, and besides providing good board -and home comforts, it did much from time to -time for the relief of shipwrecked and destitute -sailors. Often hundreds of sailors were -here. The very year Mr. Kellogg began his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> -work it sheltered 2458, and during his chaplaincy -of nearly eleven years 25,358 were -beneath its roof.</p> - -<p>In urging the need and importance of such -an institution as a haven of rest, a “port in -a storm,” Mr. Kellogg once said: “Suppose -twenty-five seamen from Calcutta, with beard -and hair of 130 days’ growth, hammocks, -canvas bags, sheath knives, chests lashed up -with tarred rigging, redolent of bilge water, -with a monkey or two, and three or four -parrots, should drive up to the Revere -House in a North End wagon, and say, ’We -want to stop here; our money is as good as -anybody’s,’ would they stop there? Would -their money be as good as anybody’s? I trow -not. Let them, repulsed from the Revere, -go to the Marlboro,—a temperance, pious -house, prayers night and morning,—and tell -the proprietor if he does not take them in they -must go to a place that leads to a drunkard’s -grave and the drunkard’s hell, would they be -taken in there, think you? This shows the -need of a Sailors’ Home, does it not?”</p> - -<p>When Mr. Kellogg had been at work -awhile, Captain Andrew Bartlett of Plymouth, -a retired ship-master, was employed by the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> -society as a missionary helper. Always faithful -and zealous, as “a lieutenant to Mr. -Kellogg,”—so he styled himself,—Captain -Bartlett proved of valuable assistance. With -his aid libraries were placed upon shipboard -to be managed by Christian sailors, and -the minor details of the work went forward -successfully.</p> - -<p>Another fruitful source of increased life and -enthusiasm in the work came early in Mr. -Kellogg’s pastorate. It was a body of young -men drawn by the personal magnetism of the -popular preacher, inspired by his earnestness -and devotion, and moved by their own desire -to be of service in the good cause. He issued -no special call, made no urgent appeal, for -these helpers. One by one they came, impelled -by the promptings of the Holy Spirit. -They rallied like a forlorn hope in a desperate -encounter, each feeling that his services were -needed. They were ready for any service -their Divine Guide and their beloved leader -might require of them, should it carry them -even to “moving accidents by flood and field.” -They had heard the “still, small voice,” and -had responded, “Here am I; send me.”</p> - -<p>Captain Bartlett early reported: “The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> -young men of the church are Mr. Kellogg’s -body-guard. They are a sort of flying artillery. -They visit the receiving-ship, the -Marine Hospital, and other places. They hold -meetings, and talk with sailors.”</p> - -<p>Mr. Kellogg in an annual address before -the society said: “An army of young men are -putting their strength to the wheel of a difficult -and hitherto well-nigh discouraging work. -It was feared by many, when these efforts -began, that they were the outgrowth of romance -and the love of novelty, and would be -of transient duration; but they have assumed -the same enduring character as the other departments -of labor. At the hospital, on board -the receiving-ship, at the Mariners’ Church -on Sabbath evenings, they have entered heart -and hand into this work, and, from their very -youth, adapted to the impulsive nature of seamen, -they have been in the hands of God a -most efficient instrumentality for good.”</p> - -<p>This army of young men grew very rapidly -during the revival of 1858, and by the beginning -of the Civil War was of creditable size. -At the Sunday evening prayer-meetings it -made itself especially felt. On these occasions -the church was always crowded. Minis<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span>ters -of the Gospel, merchants, young people, -and captains of ships sat side by side with -men whom every wind had blown upon, from -the equator to the pole, all uniting in fervent -prayer to the same great Father, all striving -to bring each other to a knowledge of the -truth. Not an evangelical denomination in -the city was unrepresented, and it is impossible -to form even an approximate estimate of -the amount of good accomplished, for these -meetings were exceptional both in number of -attendants and in interest shown.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" ><a id="p080"></a> -<img src="images/p080.jpg" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Elijah Kellogg at Forty-three.</span><br />1856.</div> -</div> - -<p>But war came, and it found the Mariners’ -Church patriotic to the very core. Mr. Kellogg -had to report that sixty-eight of his“body-guard” had enlisted to fight for the -preservation of the Union, sixteen of them -teachers in the Sunday-school. In 1864, in -his address before the society, he said: “At -the beginning of the war there were connected -with the Mariners’ Church a body of young -men, landsmen, who were deeply interested in -the conversion of sailors and enjoyed their -confidence and affection. They, with a single -exception, entered the army. Poor and without -patronage, they enlisted as privates. Five -of them have been promoted.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> - -<p>Those connected with the Mariners’ Church -when the war opened will never forget the -stirring scenes in the church meetings or the -eloquent words of patriotism and faith with -which the pastor bade his “boys” Godspeed as -they went forth into the great struggle. One -Sunday evening in April, 1861, he spoke feelingly -of the impending crisis. He was so -prophetic, outlining so accurately what afterward -proved to be the extent and course of -the secession movement, that many of his -hearers have since thought him to have been -almost inspired. When he had finished, he -requested three of his “boys” who had enlisted, -one of whom had that very day been -admitted to the church, to step to the desk. -Then, amid a scene such as is rarely witnessed -in a sacred edifice, he talked to them personally, -while the large audience showed great -sympathy and the liveliest interest. When the -enthusiasm had reached its highest pitch, he -drew from under his desk three revolvers and -passed them to the young men, bidding them -go forth in the name of God, in a cause which -he declared to be as holy as any that ever a -people contended for. In 1865, referring feelingly -to the services of these young men in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> -the field, he said: “They departed with the -prayers and good wishes of the congregation. -One of them, but nineteen years old, fell at -Gettysburg; another,<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a> having been twice severely -wounded, has returned with honor, -and the third, having received three wounds, -and led his company at the storming of -Fort Fisher, still remains a captain in the -service.”</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Readers will be interested to know that Mr. Kimball, -the author of this chapter, is here referred to.—W. B. M.</p></div> - -<p>The work was often attended by interesting -and sometimes humorous incidents. During -a meeting in the reading room of the Home -one evening an intoxicated sailor created a -disturbance at the door. He wanted to enter, -and had to be held back by force. The meeting -closed, and the “flying artillery,” under -the leadership of Mr. Kellogg, was about -starting for the nine o’clock prayer-meeting -at the rooms of the Young Men’s Christian -Association in Tremont Temple. The inebriate -took it into his head to go too. He was -reasoned with, but without effect. “You -fellows have got a good thing,” said he, “and -I want some of it.” The leader and his “body-guard” -started, and sure enough, the disciple<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> -of Bacchus followed. Mr. Kellogg protested, -but in vain, and finally ordered “the flying -artillery” to take the double-quick. The man -then showed that he, too, could sprint a bit -even if he did happen to be “loaded.” He -managed to keep the party in sight, and although -he met many obstacles and collided -with a horse-car in crossing Washington Street, -he succeeded in landing a fairly good second. -He was not allowed to enter the prayer-meeting, -however, as he was still inclined to be -noisy, but was “held” in an adjoining room. -The young men got him back to the Home -after the meeting, and he again declared it -his purpose to have religion anyhow, in spite -of opposition. Next morning he appeared, -demanded a pen, and with the air of a usurper -of a throne about to banish all who had in -any way opposed him, placed his name upon -the temperance pledge. That evening in the -prayer-meeting he requested prayers. He -gave his heart to Christ, became a devoted -worker, and a year afterward, returning from -a voyage, was found to be still in the faith.</p> - -<p>But sinners had to be brought to repentance -ordinarily. They rarely came unsought, like -this poor wayfarer, and thus Mr. Kellogg and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> -his helpers always found plenty to do. It -was an inspiring scene when the leader and -his “body-guard” set out for the prayer-meeting -upon the receiving-ship <i>Ohio</i> or -returned therefrom. In going, they usually -met at the Young Men’s Christian Association, -proceeding thence via “Foot and Walker’s -line,” two by two, keeping step to the music -of their own voices. “The Old Mountain -Tree,” “A Life on the Ocean Wave,” and -many other popular songs of the day, as well -as hymns, were sung. Among the favorite -hymns was “Say, brothers, will you meet -us?” It had that stirring chorus, “Glory, -glory, hallelujah.” This was sung a great deal, -and it finally became the foundation of the -famous “John Brown Song,” to the rhythm -of which thousands marched in the great war -for the nation’s life.</p> - -<p>No small part of Mr. Kellogg’s success in -this work came from his intimate knowledge -of the seaman’s nature. Sailors are in many -ways peculiar, and in order to be of service -to them a worker must proceed understandingly. -They regard themselves as in a measure -set apart from their fellow-men. One of -them once wrote:—</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">“I am alone—the wide, wide world</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Holds not a heart that beats for me;</div> - <div class="verse">I’ve seen my brightest hopes grow dim,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">As fades the twilight o’er the sea.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>That Mr. Kellogg understood this loneliness -and had a large sympathy for the men “that -go down to the sea in ships, that do business -in great waters,” these eloquent words of his -well show: “In respect to the great mass of -seamen, they neither own land, build houses, -nor rear families. They neither give nor -receive those sympathies and attentions which -create among men a mutual dependence and -attachment. When they are sick, no circle of -neighbors and friends watch by their bedside -and minister to their necessities, but the walls -of the hospital, if on shore, receive them and -conceal their sorrows from observation. No -kindred follow them to the grave and erect -the memorial stone. They are not, in the -expressive language of Scripture, ’gathered -unto their fathers,’ but they are buried on -the shores of foreign lands, or amid the -everlasting snows of the pole, or in the -abyss of ocean, slumbering in nameless -sepulchres and mausoleums of the mighty -deep. Like the winds that bear and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> -waves that break around them, they are the -visitors of every clime, the residents of none.... -The knowledge of the community at -large in respect to seamen is too often -gleaned from the exaggerated descriptions of -novelists.... Every man has in his heart -home feeling. It is an old-fashioned thing. -He drew it in with his mother’s milk. He -learned it at his father’s knees. Even sailors -are men. They did not spring from the froth -of the sea, like Venus. They had mothers -and fathers that loved them and prayed for -them. It is the heart makes home. It is -the heart makes friends in the world. The -heart makes heaven.”</p> - -<p>Sailors are ever among the bravest of the -brave. Great as is the appreciation of the -American people of the bravery of the men -who lined up behind the guns of our warships -in the great war which kept the Union -whole, it is not half great enough.</p> - -<p>Neither can we overestimate their loyalty -in all great crises of the nation’s history. It -was President Lincoln who pointed out the -fact that in all the general defection of the -first period of secession not a single common -seaman proved false to his flag.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p> - -<p>In a prayer-meeting at the Mariners’ Church -while the war was in progress a landsman lamented -its effect upon the “Jackies.” A man-of-war’s -man arose and said: “What is war -to me? What is war to my shipmates? It -brings no increase of peril—only another kind. -We have always faced danger and death and -disease. What is it to me whether danger -comes from storms or from batteries? I can -kneel down between the guns and pray as well -as in my room at the Sailors’ Home.”</p> - -<p>For patriotism and bravery wherever shown, -Mr. Kellogg had the greatest admiration. -Besides the large number of landsmen connected -with his church who entered the service, -over two hundred of the inmates of the Sailors’ -Home joined the army and more than six hundred -the navy during the war. With many -of these, Mr. Kellogg kept in touch through -frequent correspondence, and looked after -their personal needs. He loved them all. He -often sent necessities and delicacies to his“boys” at the front. In one of the early battles,<a name="FNanchor_3" id="FNanchor_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a> -one of the young men of whom mention -has been made as receiving arms at his hands -in a Sunday evening prayer-meeting was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> -wounded. He at once visited the hospital to -which the young man had been taken, secured -a furlough for him, provided him liberally -with necessities, brought him to Boston, and -sent him to his home in Maine for a visit to -his father and mother.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3" id="Footnote_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Here, again, the reference is to Mr. Kimball.—W. B. M.</p></div> - -<p>The results of Mr. Kellogg’s great work for -seamen were often not apparent. His sailor -parishioners were scattered throughout the -world. In speaking of this, he once said: “If -a person on shore is converted, it immediately -becomes known to a church of perhaps six -hundred members; if he leads a devoted -Christian life, his influence is felt by thousands. -But these Harlan Pages of the ocean, who pray -with messmates, speak good words to shipmates -in the middle watch, maintain a Christian -life on board frigates which have been compared -to floating hells enlivened once in a while by -a drowning—who writes their memoirs? -What stone records their virtues? What -periodical chronicles their death? They slip -quietly to heaven unnoticed and unknown. -Their bier is a plank across the lee gunwale, -their mausoleum the ocean, their epitaph is -written in water. And when the report circulates -in the forecastles of different vessels,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> -some old sailor, dashing a tear from his eye -with his shirt-sleeve, exclaims to his shipmates, -‘Well, he has gone to heaven. He saved my -soul, and he would have saved the whole ship’s -company if they had listened to him.’”</p> - -<p>The visible results of Mr. Kellogg’s work, -however, were from the first encouraging. -During the winter of 1858, the great revival -was fully felt. Many were brought to Christ. -The next year the interest continued, not -only at the church and the Sailors’ Home, -but at sea. At the Home 276 signed the -temperance pledge and 95 were converted. -Good work was also done at the hospital -in Chelsea. That winter word was received -that four members of the Mariners’ Church -were holding prayer-meetings on board the -<i>Hartford</i>, flagship of the squadron then in -Chinese waters, and that a lieutenant, the fleet -surgeon, a ship’s doctor, a gunner, two midshipmen, -six petty officers, and twenty-five seamen -had been converted. Prayer-meetings -were then being held upon fifteen other men-of-war. -The next year also showed good results. -In 1861, Mr. Kellogg was able to report -seventy-four conversions at the Sailors’ Home, -fifty-five on the receiving-ship <i>Ohio</i>, twenty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span>-eight -at the hospital in Chelsea, thirty-seven -at sea, and a number at the church. Statistics -show the conversion of 725 during his ministry -of eleven years.</p> - -<p>The high esteem in which Mr. Kellogg was -held by the other clergymen of Boston was -well expressed in 1862 by Dr. Todd of the -Central Church. Speaking at an annual meeting -of the society from which Mr. Kellogg was -forced to be absent by a serious attack of lung -fever, Dr. Todd said:— -“I regret exceedingly the absence to-day of -one who is the life and soul of this work in -this city, whose treasured experience, given in -his racy way, is wont to enliven this anniversary. -I regret exceedingly the cause of his -detention. But I may take advantage of his -absence to bear some slight testimony to the -preciousness of the influence which he is exerting. -Apart from his successes among seamen, -for which he is eminently qualified by the -characteristics of his nature, as well as the -tastes of his heart, he is diffusing an untold -influence in other spheres. I presume that -there is not an evangelical clergyman in this -city who cannot gratefully trace among his -people, and especially among the young men<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> -of his congregation, the quickening and healthful -influence of the pastor of the Mariners’ -Church.”</p> - -<p>A year later the decline in the merchant -marine began to be seriously felt. It was said -to be due to the sale of a large number of vessels -to the English and the change in destination -of others, many going to England and -the Continent which formerly would have -come to Boston and New York. This diversion -of commerce was believed to be due to the -prevailing high rates of exchange. Then, of -course, a great many of the men who had -manned our merchant vessels had been absorbed -by the army and navy. Just before this -decline began, a competent authority had estimated -that throughout the world at least one -hundred and forty thousand merchant vessels -of all kinds were afloat, manned by a million -men, and that one-third of these were under -the flag of the United States.</p> - -<p>These changes in our commerce and this -falling off in American seamen greatly lessened -the number of inmates at the Sailors’ -Home, and seriously weakened the Mariners’ -Church. Then, too, a new element had occupied -Fort Hill and the adjacent streets. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> -growth of business was crowding people southward -and westward, comfortable homes giving -way to commercial establishments. These -things, together with an intention which Mr. -Kellogg had long cherished of entering upon -a literary career, caused him to think seriously -of resigning his position. During the summer -of 1865 he did so, and was soon after succeeded -by the Rev. J. M. H. Dow.</p> - -<p>The foregoing is but a glimpse of Elijah -Kellogg’s work in Boston. In its entirety, -that work is known only to God and the -Recording Angel. Its influence was widely -felt upon sea and land. Thousands of sailors -upon lonely waters were made happier by it, -and up among the hills, under the trees, at -many a farm-house window, sad faces that -looked out and watched for their dear ones’ -coming brightened at the remembrance that -they had been led to Christ through the efforts -of this seaman’s friend.</p> - -<p>Mr. Kellogg was a saintly, lovable man, -and but for his modesty, shunning, as he often -did, the leading churches of the day, because -of what he termed their “starch and formality,” -he would have been named and known -among the great preachers of his time.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> - -</div><div class="chapter"></div><div class="chapter"> - - -<h2><a name="AS_SEEN_THROUGH_A_BOYS_EYES" id="AS_SEEN_THROUGH_A_BOYS_EYES"></a>AS SEEN THROUGH A BOY’S EYES</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">William Oliver Clough</span></p> - - -<p>When and under what circumstances I -made the acquaintance of the Rev. Elijah -Kellogg I do not now recall. The place, -however, was Boston, and I persuade myself -that the time was the winter of 1856-1857, -during what was mentioned in the newspapers -of that day as the “Finney revival.” I was -then an errand boy in a jewelry store, a member -of the Park Street Church Sunday-school -and congregation, and spent many of my -evenings out—for I slept in the store—at -the rooms of the Young Men’s Christian -Association, then in Tremont Temple. It was -probably at the last-mentioned place that Mr. -Kellogg came into my life, and now, looking -back over the years that have passed, I -acknowledge that I have cause for gratitude -that I did not resist the love and friendship -that he generously bestowed upon me.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> - -<p>Those of us, his friends and admirers, who -recall the dignified manners and solemn utterances -of the good old clergyman of our grandfathers’ -days—on whose approach to the old -homestead we fled like a brood of frightened -chickens—do not find in him a counterpart. -He was like yet unlike them, and it was the -unlikeness that attracted young people to him -and compelled them whether they would or -no to follow where he led. It was that he -had been a boy—the old school clergyman -never gave evidence of such weakness—and -that it seemed no condescension on his part to -be a boy again with boys, when by so being -he could keep them out of mischief and as he -was wont to say “headed up the stream.” -More than this he knew how to “get at -boys.” He had a purpose in it all. Many -boys did not in my boyhood days—and I -assume that they are the same in all generations—take -kindly to being told that unless -they turned over a new leaf and joined the -church they would surely go to the devil. Mr. -Kellogg knew this and was ever on the watch -to discover their plans and ambitions, and, -apart from sermons,—for he could get them -in in the proper place,—encourage them to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> -strive for success, while incidentally warning -them of the pitfalls in their path. In a word, -he had an intuitive knowledge of the character -of the person upon whom he would impress -the better way of life, and knew just -how much religious talk he would stand and -still come to him with his burdens and for -advice. His attitude always seemed to be -that religion—as men profess it—was in a -large degree dependent upon education in -honesty and sincerity of purpose in the things -that are nearest at hand, in the affairs of -everyday life, that if the twig were but -rightly bent, thus the tree would incline. He -was indeed a reverend schoolmaster.</p> - -<p>Hardly a week passed between the date I -have tried to fix and the time I left Boston in -1870, when, if Mr. Kellogg was in the city, I did -not meet him somewhere in his wanderings. -I do not recall that I ever attended services -at the Mariners’ Church on Summer Street, -over which he was for many years pastor, on -a Sunday morning or afternoon. Sunday -evening was the time. It was then that -the larger half of the Park Street Church -boys and girls ran away, as the annoyed deacons -put it, and went to Mr. Kellogg’s meet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>ing. -No matter what the weather happened -to be or what the attractions were at home, -the young people into whose lives Mr. Kellogg -had forged his way went where he was -to be found. They had done their duty by -their own church, and they must do their duty -by Father Kellogg; and so it happened that -year after year the Seaman’s Bethel was -crowded to overflowing on Sunday night, the -middle of the house being reserved for Jack, -and the wall pews for the boys and girls. Incidentally, -and always in the right place, the -preacher gave us the advice that was withheld -in social and friendly intercourse. In -an up-to-date way of expressing it, he “got -it all in.”</p> - -<p>Father Kellogg, having followed the sea in -his youth, had a good many odd ways of saying -things that were pleasing to us. Here -are some that I now recall:—</p> - -<p>The writer said to him one day: “The deacons -at Park Street are greatly offended because -you take us away from them on Sunday -night, and have expostulated with us.” -“That reminds me of an old couple in our -state” (“our” is accounted for by the fact -that the writer is a native of Gray), he replied<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span>. “The wife was a strapping woman of more -than two hundred pounds and the husband -was a little fellow of not much over one -hundred pounds. She abused him past the -endurance of a block. Her tongue was forever -going. She gave him no rest, no peace. -Some one said to him, ’Why don’t you turn -about and give her as good as she sends?’ -and he replied, ’Oh, but it amuses her and it -doesn’t hurt me any!’ And that is how it is -with the deacons and me. The boys and girls -will come to the Bethel just the same.” He -was right about it.</p> - -<p>Father Kellogg was standing in his accustomed -place one night in front of the pulpit, -watching the ushers and showing anxiety -through fear that sittings would not be found -for all comers, when, after looking about, he -pointed to one of the pews, and this is what -he said:— -“Six persons may be comfortably seated in -those wall pews. There are only five in that -pew. Why won’t you take another reef in -your mainsails, ladies, and accommodate one -more?” The ladies blushed and reefed.</p> - -<p>One night, when temperance was the theme, -he paused, and directing his conversation to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> -some boys who were whispering, remarked: “I sometimes wonder how it will be with -young men who cannot behave in Boston, -where there are so many policemen to watch -them, when they get into that far country -where there are no policemen. You’d better -cast anchor, boys.”</p> - -<p>This anecdote is on the writer. My companion -was one of the young ladies of Park -Street, and I was feeling just a bit proud of -myself. We were on hand in time, and had -good seats against the wall. Distress came -upon me by reason of new and tight-fitting -shoes. I had slipped them off and put them -under the seat, and was as peaceful and contented -as a bug in a rug. Presently the crowd -came, and there was a demand for seats. Spying -other boys and me, this is how he fixed -us: “Here, John, Thomas, Ezra, Henry, and -William, come this way and sit on the pulpit -steps.” All the other boys started. I kept -my seat. I was in a fix. Then he spoke a -second time. “Come, come, no hanging -back!” Taking the shoes in my hand, -I went as directed. The boys and girls -laughed, and he comforted me by saying: “I sat on the pulpit steps many a time when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> -I was a boy. It didn’t hurt me, and it won’t -hurt you.”</p> - -<p>One night just before the benediction he -said very earnestly: “I wish the congregation -would exhibit less haste to be dismissed. -When the last verse of the hymn is being -sung, you throw your books into the rack -with a nervous thud that sounds like the -’ram-cartridge’ of a regiment of raw militia. -Kindly hold the books in your hands until -after the benediction.”</p> - -<p>On one occasion when he was talking about -politeness as apart from selfishness, this is how -he got back at some of us, “Now I suppose -if you were travelling in a crowded horse-car, -and a tired mother with a baby in her arms, -or a feeble old man with bundles in his hands, -got aboard, you would give up your seat even -if you had paid for it—but I happen to know -that there are some of your elders who won’t -do it.” I never knew whom he fired that -shot at.</p> - -<p>A transient man (speaking in meeting one -night) bemoaned the fact that some of the -tunes to which hymns were sung were theatre -refrains, and unholy. “What!” exclaimed -Father Kellogg, “you wouldn’t give all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> -good music to the devil, would you?” The -stranger sat down.</p> - -<p>One cold, blustery day Father Kellogg came -to the store on Milk Street where I was employed, -with a tale of sorrow. He had discovered -a sick family. There was no food or -fuel in the house, and he had no money -in his purse. He must raise $3 immediately. -Every one contributed on the instant, -and he obtained nearly $4. There was a -tear in his eye when he went out, and probably -having in mind that some of us -were theatre-goers or billiard-players, or something -else—he turned to me, and remarked -aside, “Old Satan will be about $4 short to-night!”</p> - -<p>It should not be understood from the foregoing -that my recollection of Father Kellogg -and my admiration for him are based on and -began and ended with a few little anecdotes -incidental to evening meetings at the church -over which he was the honored pastor. I -knew him in the broad field, the world. He -frequently spent an hour of the evening with -me at the store which was my only home, and -where half the evenings in the week I was -alone as watchman after closing hours; here<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> -he often related his experiences as a sailor—much -of which was afterward woven into his -stories—and corrected the compositions I had -written as a student at the Mercantile Library -Association then located on Summer Street. -More than this, he knew most of the boys and -young men of the association, and dropped in -occasionally to hear them speak his declamations -and to encourage them in their studies. -Later he was wont to call at my boarding-place, -as he did at boarding-places of other -homeless young men in that great city, to -look after me and make me feel that some -one cared for me. In those years I went occasionally -with him and others to his week-day -meetings at the Marine Hospital in Chelsea to“help out in the singing,”—as he was pleased -to put it,—and to more other places than it -would be interesting to mention here. On -most of these occasions he “stood treat” on -soda or ice-cream somewhere on the tramp, -and, as I now discover, was always endeavoring -to keep us interested and out of reach of -temptation. In after years and following my -departure from Boston, I used to find him at -the Athenæum on Beacon Street where—after -giving up his church duties—he spent<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> -most of his time when writing his books. -These meetings were the joy and pride of my -life, and from them I always obtained new courage -to persevere in my profession. And here -let me say that of all the boys of 1857-1870 -I know of but one who has made a misfit of -life; and over his misfortunes I throw, as I -know Father Kellogg would were he still -among us, the broadest mantle of charity.</p> - -<p>Of Father Kellogg as an earnest and inspired -preacher, a consecrated man with a message -to men, and of his greatest sermons, others -may speak. He was a modest and unassuming -man who did not recognize in himself his -full power to move and convince men. Physical -fear stood in the way. He often expressed -himself as greatly embarrassed when -officiating over large and fashionable congregations, -and he said to me, following his magnificent -discourse in a series of meetings at -Tremont Temple, that when he approached -the desk, his knees shook so that he feared he -should fall in his tracks. However this may -have been, he got control of himself before he -had spoken twenty-five words. All of embarrassment -fled before the earnestness of his -words and purpose. It was—and I speak<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> -with the knowledge that many others consider -his sermon on the “Prodigal Son” his masterpiece—one -of the greatest efforts of his life. -He realized that he was in contrast with Dr. -Stone, Dr. Manning, Dr. Kirk, Dr. Neal, and -others, and that he must give the best he had. -The sermon made a deep impression upon all -his hearers.</p> - -<p>It was a comparative parallel of a brook -and the career of man in weird and forceful -language, in imagery that was entrancing, in -striking passages, and with the lesson every -moment in the foreground,—man and brook -at their sources, the place of their birth.</p> - -<p><i>Morning.</i> He dwelt upon its beauty at -sunrise, and the secluded depths of the forest, -and sought the birthplace of the brook. Then -with the child and the tiny stream he lingered -and dwelt in graceful, dreamy thought, in -which he compared their purity, pondered -upon the dangers and pitfalls beyond, half -undecided whether to venture farther or cease -to be. Having determined that it would be -cowardly to resist destiny, he followed the -murmuring stream, listened to its complaints -and made note of its troubles. It was the -career of man. As it flowed on, and he wan<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>dered -beside it, he listened to the song of -birds, the murmuring wind, and found himself -in harmony with things divine. Anon, -the scene changed, the harmony was broken, -the temptation to recklessness was observed -on every hand. The little brook had increased -in strength and commenced its complaining. -It was being bruised against -boulders, rushed over logs and through -chasms, over ledges, alongside of marshes and -across the quicksands of meadows, under -water-wheels and bridges, thrown mercilessly -over precipices and dashed against every substance -in its path.</p> - -<p><i>Noonday.</i> He mused with it, gathered -admirers about it and discovered that it entered -into partnership with other streams as men and -women enter into the partnerships of life. He -listened to its whispered songs by day and -sought its harmonies by night, he sympathized -with its fault-finding because of the impurities -which flowed into it from cities and villages, admired -it when it became a broad expanse, and enforced -the lesson of man’s journey through life.</p> - -<p><i>Evening.</i> Standing on the shore of the -ocean, the tide receding, he gazed far out -toward the horizon, and in descriptive beauty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> -I cannot reproduce, saw the river meet and -mingle with the sea, losing its identity; saw -the streets of shining gold, the great white -throne and the crown for those who are faithful -unto death.</p> - -<p>The outline of one other of Father Kellogg’s -great sermons still lingers in my mind and -attracts my thought. Paragraphs from it are -discoverable in the stories he wrote late in -life. It was prepared for the purpose of presenting -the cause of the Seaman’s Friend -Society before a great convention in the -Boston Music Hall. He was to speak to a -cultured audience of men and women from -all parts of the state, and in the presence of -some of the best scholars and thinkers in his -own profession. He felt that he would be -criticised in comparison with other speakers, -and was therefore determined to do himself -and his alma mater credit, and withal present -his cause, so as to reach the hearts and pocketbooks -of his hearers. I did not hear the -sermon at its original delivery, but later he -used it for the same purpose in the churches. -I heard it at Park Street, and was so attracted -and impressed by its beauty of language -and eloquence when spoken by him that I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> -went to the Mount Vernon Church when he -delivered it there. This gives the impression -it left upon my mind.</p> - -<p>Through the career of one sailor, learn of -many. He pictured the child in the cradle, -the love and hope of a doting mother; followed -him to school, saw him develop in -mind and muscle; sailed cat-boats, set lobster-traps, -and dug clams with him. He talked -and dreamed with him about other lands and -climes beyond the boundary of their vision, -and entered into his hopes and ambition to -become the master of a ship. Passing briefly -over his coasting voyages, he portrayed him -in port surrounded by sharks and bad women, -and in the whirl, where if he listens and yields -to the tempter, he becomes lost to himself and -a sorrow to the mother who bore him. He -spoke of his needs, of the associations that -should environ him, the necessity for a snug -harbor home in every port, and then, when an -able seaman, he accompanied him on a voyage -to a foreign land.</p> - -<p>Then he presented, in vivid colors, beautiful, -weird, and awful pictures of the sea such -as no man who has not witnessed them may -discover in the storehouse of his knowledge.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> -The vessel drifts to-day in a calm; there is -little to do on shipboard, and so, half homesick, -the sailor looks upon the glassy deep as -in a mirror, and sees faces and forms of those -he loves. Meantime, there are omens that -indicate a coming storm, and anxiety is depicted -on every face. Night and the storm! -Then the awful picture of the raging deep; -the vessel climbing mountain waves and anon -pitching into the trough of the sea; the dark -and ominous clouds, the angry winds, the -mingled prayers and supplications of the -crew; the promises of a better life if spared -to reach land, the wreck, the rescue,—all in -vividness, in rapid and burning oratory that -held a landsman as in a vice, moved him to -tears, and blotted from his mind all else save -the speaker and his theme. Into port, far -from home and kindred, and the old story of -forgetfulness of promises when in the presence -of temptations, and, in conclusion, a masterly -plea for pecuniary aid from those who had -it in their hearts to better the sailor’s -environments.</p> - -<p>During the war of the rebellion, Father -Kellogg’s patriotism and zeal for the cause of -his country was of the most pronounced type.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> -Whenever a regiment from Maine was due -to march through the streets of Boston, -whether outward or homeward bound, his -affection for the old home and the boys of his -state, excited him beyond self-control. He -met the command, if informed of its coming, -at the railroad station, crossed the city with -it, remained close to the ranks and at every -halt talked with and cheered the boys. He -made speeches to several regiments, when -reviewed on the Common, and on one occasion—I -was present to greet a cousin in the -ranks—he broke down completely, and wept -like a child. It was pretty safe to say after -the departure of a regiment from Maine that -Mr. Kellogg had not a “penny to his name.” -He made speeches and offered prayers at the -unfurling of the flag, and spoke parting words -of affection and advice to seamen of his congregation -and young men of his Sunday evening -meetings, many of whom “died with their -wounds in front.”</p> - -<p>The last of my several visits with Father -Kellogg at his home at North Harpswell was -on August 5, 1899. On my journey thither, -I talked freely with the driver of the hired -carriage—G. W. Holden, a brother of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> -mystic tie—and said to him: “I should -think the people of such an up-to-date place -as this would demand a younger preacher, -more of a society man than Mr. Kellogg.” -He became enthusiastic at once and replied: “Why, bless you, brother, the people of this -place are all of one mind in this matter. -Like myself they had rather hear Mr. Kellogg -say ’amen,’ than the finest sermon any -younger minister could possibly preach. Why, -people come from far and near to hear him, -and every now and then he has a request -from some of them to deliver his discourse on -the ’Prodigal Son.’ It is a most remarkable -sermon. I could hear it twice a year, and -hunger for a third.”</p> - -<p>But here we were at the end of our pilgrimage, -at the very door of his residence. It -was nine miles from the boat-landing, half a -mile from the main highway through a strip -of woods, and in a romantic and secluded -spot; an old-fashioned, unpainted farm-house -of the fathers, with large, high-studded rooms, -and furnishings after the fashion of the city. -Everything bespoke comfort.</p> - -<p>Mr. Kellogg met me at the door with warm -greeting, and when he made out my identity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> -through the mists of years, embraced me with -the enthusiasm of a child, put his arms about -my neck and kissed me upon the cheek. It -was the same warmth and affection with -which he greeted the old Park Street Church -crowd of young people in good old times. -“Come in! come in!” and then our -tongues were loosed and it was a race for life, -for my visit was necessarily to be brief, to -see who could do the most talking. I think—mind -you, reader, I am not positive about -it—that he did the most of it; at any rate -he conjured with names of old-time companions -and friends whom I had forgotten, but -whose faces and forms were instantly upon -the screen before me, and spoke with tenderest -affection of boys and girls, old men and -matrons, whom we had known and loved, and -who have long since paid the debt of nature. -Oh, that the living of the good old times -could have joined me on that pilgrimage!</p> - -<p>He told me it was his purpose to proclaim“glad tidings” to men while life lasted; that -he had engaged to preach the next year; that -he expected to officiate on Sunday at Bowdoin -College, and that his health was such—deafness -being his only apparent infirmity—he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> -had reasonable hope of becoming a centenarian. -He recalled incidents innumerable with -which I am familiar, and related with manifest -pleasure that the deacons of Park Street -undertook to put a stop to the “running -away” of their young people on Sunday -nights, and, with merriest twinkle of the eye, -said, “their lectures fell on stony ground. -Some of the young people replied that they -were born in the Bethel, others that they -were looking for a chance to sing, and there -were a few—and I fear you were one of the -number—who always turned up where the -girls were. Anyhow, I had the crowd, and -I loved every one in it as though he were my -own.”</p> - -<p>Then, in softened accent, as though he -feared he had wronged those deacons in -thought and spirit, he said practically this: “Ah, but those same deacons were good and -true men. They were sympathetic, they were -liberal to a fault, and I never went to one of -them for aid in my work to return empty-handed. -Then there was my old friend, -Alpheus Hardy, of the Mount Vernon Church. -I verily believe he would have turned all he -had in the world over to me had I solicited it.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> - -<p>The conversation ran on and on in changing -moods. I feared that Brother Holden and -our lady travelling companion would begin to -think themselves in for a half-day of steady -waiting, and so I began to break away. This -was the hard part of it all. He clung to me -and put his arms about me, urged me to dismiss -the driver and sleep under his roof, and -finally exacted a promise that I would come -again next year, if in that vicinity, and tarry -longer. Our adieus were then spoken, and he -stood upon the porch and waved his hand in -parting.</p> - -<p>All that I have here written is, as I view -it, a eulogy on the character and career of -Father Kellogg, and yet I may be pardoned, -considering my long acquaintance, tender -attachment and admiration for the man, if, -as attorneys put it, I sum up:—</p> - -<p>He was one of nature’s noblemen; he was -incapable of deceit; he lived a life above reproach. -His one great purpose was to make -himself useful to the human family. To this -end he sought out boys who were liable to go -astray, and it may be said in all seriousness, -and with impressive emphasis, that he succeeded -in the mission to which he was conse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span>crated. -The seed he sowed ripened in the -lives of those in whom it was planted, and, -granting that each in turn confers the same -blessing upon his children, Father Kellogg’s -influence must continue on and on to future -generations, making the world wiser and -better because he has lived in it. His gentle -chidings, his forgiveness of seeming neglect, -his patience when troubles were upon him, -his sympathy for those who were in sickness, -sorrow, need, or any other adversity, his hopefulness -when in financial stress, his devotion -to his invalid wife, his anxiety for his children, -his unselfishness, his never failing cheerfulness -and steadfast faith in God, his -submission by which he ever discovered the -silver lining in the dark cloud, his determination -to preach the Gospel to the end of his -days,—all, all, have lodgment in my heart; -and so, when I think of him, it is not as of -one dead, but one who lives, lives in the affections -of kindred and friends, in beneficent influence -still abroad in the world, in deeds: -not dead, not dead:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">“There is no death,</div> - <div class="verse">The stars go down to rise upon a brighter shore.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="figcenter" ><a id="p114"></a> -<img src="images/p114.jpg" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Elijah Kellogg’s Home at Harpswell, Maine.</span></div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"></div><div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="Kellogg_the_Author" id="Kellogg_the_Author"></a>Kellogg the Author</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Wilmot Brookings Mitchell</span></p> - -<p>“If the gods would give me the desire of -my heart,” exclaims Thackeray in <i>The Roundabout -Papers</i>, “I should write a story which -boys would relish for the next few dozen of -centuries.” This is a glorious immortality -which Thackeray desires for his boys’ story. -Generously have the gods dealt with that -author whose writings for boys have been -relished even a quarter of a century.</p> - -<p>Of the stories and declamations of Elijah -Kellogg the past at least is secure. What -boy reader did not relish “Good Old Times” -and “Lion Ben”? What schoolboy has not“met upon the arena every shape of man or -beast that the broad empire of Rome could -furnish, and yet never has lowered his arm”? -The schoolboy of the future will be of different -stuff from the schoolboy of the past if, when -declaiming to his mates on a Friday afternoon,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> -he does not begin in subdued tones and stand, -like Regulus, “calm, cold, and immovable as -the marble walls around him,” and end in guttural -tones and in a fine frenzy with “the -curse of Jove is on thee—a clinging, wasting -curse.” -“Spartacus to the Gladiators,” the first of -Mr. Kellogg’s eleven declamations, was written, -as has already been said,<a name="FNanchor_4" id="FNanchor_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> in 1842, for one of -the rhetorical exercises at Andover Seminary. -At this exercise there was present a Phillips -Academy boy, John Marshall Marsters. Some -years afterward, when Marsters was to take -part in the Boylston Prize Speaking at Harvard -College, he secured from Mr. Kellogg a -copy of “Spartacus.” In this, as in many -similar competitions, it proved a prize-winner; -and it so won the admiration of Mr. Epes -Sargent, one of the judges, that he first published -it, in 1846, in his “School Reader.” -Since then no school or college speaker has -been deemed complete unless it included“Spartacus to the Gladiators.”</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4" id="Footnote_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> See <a href="#Page_47">page 47</a>.</p></div> - -<p>“Regulus to the Carthaginians” Mr. Kellogg -wrote at Harpswell for his friend, Stephen -Abbott Holt, then a student at Bowdoin Col<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>lege, -who first declaimed it in the Junior Prize -Speaking, August 25, 1845; and it was first -published in 1857 in Town and Holbrook’s -Reader. Most of his other declamations were -written for <i>Our Young Folks</i>, and similar -magazines.</p> - -<p>As school and college declamations, these -have seldom, if ever, been surpassed. Vivid -in description, stirring in sentiment, alive with -action, dramatically portraying concrete deeds -of heroism, they are especially attractive to -school and college boys. Nearly all of these, -it will be noticed, deal with ancient characters -and events. From the time Mr. Kellogg began -to prepare for college in his father’s study, -he was exceedingly fond of the ancient classics. -He had in his library at the time of his death -235 volumes of the classics of Greece and -Rome. Well versed in Greek and Roman -history and mythology, he could fittingly extol -the patriotism of Leonidas and Decius; -bewail the woes of the Roman debtor; incite -the gladiators to revolt; and appeal to the -Roman legions, or curse the Carthaginians -through the mouth of Icilius or Regulus.</p> - -<p>With the exception of a few bits of verse -written while he was an undergraduate and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> -printed in the college paper, <i>The Bowdoin -Portfolio</i>, “Spartacus” was the first of Mr. -Kellogg’s writings to be published. During -the twenty-three years between 1843, when -he became pastor of the church at Harpswell, -Maine, and 1866, when he resigned as pastor -of the Mariners’ Church in Boston, he wrote -very little that was printed: “Regulus,” an -ode for the celebration of Bowdoin’s semi-centennial -in 1852, and a sermon, “The -Strength and Beauty of the Sanctuary,” -preached at the dedication of the Congregation -Chapel, St. Lawrence Street, Portland, -Maine, in 1858. After 1866, after Mr. Kellogg -was more than fifty years old, came that -rather remarkable period of story-writing. -Uncommon is it for a story-writer not to begin -his career until after he has lived two score -years and ten. That Mr. Kellogg could tell a -tale, however, in a way to interest boys, his college -mates discovered during his undergraduate -days; for those well acquainted with him -in college, as they have recorded their recollections -of young Kellogg, seldom fail to -mention that “he was very fluent in talk, -exceedingly interesting as a conversationalist, -and an excellent story-teller.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span></p> - -<p>For some time before his resignation from -the pastorate of the Mariners’ Church he had -been thinking of trying his hand at a boys’ -story, and in January, 1867, the first chapter -of his first story was printed in <i>Our Young -Folks</i>, a magazine published in Boston by -Ticknor and Fields. This story, “Good Old -Times,” at once became popular with the young -readers of this magazine. It is one of the best -stories that Mr. Kellogg ever wrote. It is -largely a narrative of facts—the story of Hugh -and Elizabeth McLellan, the great-grandfather -and great-grandmother of Elijah Kellogg, in -their struggle at the beginning of the eighteenth -century to cut a home for themselves -out of the forest wilderness of Narragansett -No. 7, where the town of Gorham, Maine, now -is. Of Scotch-Irish descent, young, brave, and -resolute, “strong of limb, strong in faith, strong -in God,” this couple left their home in the -north of Ireland to escape persecution, poverty, -and famine. They braved the terrors of the -sea and the savages to found a home in the -new country. Accustomed as they had been -in Ireland to regard a landowner as the most -fortunate of men, they deemed it a rare privilege -to secure land in Narragansett No. 7, by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> -paying “but little money and the balance -in blood and risk and hardship.” They gladly -dared the privations of a savage wilderness to -obtain some soil they could call their own.</p> - -<p>Little wonder is it that the story of how -they did this proves of interest to the boys of -New England; it is the story of what their -own grandfathers and great-grandfathers endured, -enjoyed, and achieved. Here, to be -sure, they read of no fairyland peopled with -elves and sprites, with ogres and goblins; -here is no fairy godmother with glass slippers -and pumpkin coaches, but a land of flesh-and-blood -men and women, of real boys and girls, -of Indians with war-whoops, and tomahawks, -and scalping-knives—all true, but all enchanted -by the wand of the story-teller. -What better fun for the boy reader than to -join this resolute family as they set out from -Portland, and go with them into the primeval -forest; Elizabeth on horseback with a babe in -her arms leading the way, little ten-year-old -Billy just behind driving the cow, and Hugh -with a pack on his back, a musket slung across -his shoulders, and another child in his arms, -acting as rear-guard. Here in the woods were -hard work, peril, and poverty; but here, too,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> -were all kinds of interesting things for a boy -to see and do. To help build the log house, -shingle it with hemlock bark, and stuff the -chinks with clay and brush; to see Hugh make -the big “drives” and prepare for the “burn,” -an exciting and important event in the -making of a forest home; to watch the fire -as it rushed through the clearing, and to lie -in wait, gun in hand, near the woods and -watch the “raccoons, woodchucks, rabbits, -skunks, porcupines, partridges, foxes, and field -mice ’on the clean jump,’ all running for dear -life to gain the shelter of the forest, while a -great gray wolf, which had been taking a -nap beneath the fallen trees, brought up the -rear”—this was rare sport. To wear leggings -and breeches of moosehide; to gather -spruce gum and maple sap; on moonlight -nights to shoot the coons that were stealing -the corn; to see the men cut and haul the -masts, those immense trees upon which the -king’s commissioner had put the broad arrow, -those trees so large that upon the stump of -one of the largest, so said Grannie Warren, -a yoke of oxen could turn without stepping -off—this was fun indeed for little Billy. -What boy, as he reads the story, does not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> -wish that he were the son of a pioneer, even -if the corn and meat did now and then get so -scarce that the McLellans were obliged to dine -upon hazelnuts, boiled beech leaves, and lily -roots. In those good old times, men and boys -were not forced to betake themselves to tents -and camps to get away from our “modern -conveniences,” to test their resourcefulness -and ingenuity in devising ways and means to -secure food and shelter. From the boy’s point -of view that pioneer life was one long, glorious -vacation of “camping out.”</p> - -<p>And then there were the Indians, who, -whatever else they did, kept the life of that -day from becoming tame and commonplace. -They furnished, when friendly, no end of entertainment -for the youngsters. What fun -the boys had playing beaver in Weeks’s brook, -and how delicious the venison was when -roasted by old Molly the squaw! Under the -instruction of friendly Indians, Billy learned -to give the war-whoop, to hurl the tomahawk, -and to acquire great skill with the bow. If -he could not, like Robin Hood, cleave a willow -wand at a hundred yards, he could “knock a -bumblebee off a thistle at forty.” And when -Billy was fast coming to man’s estate, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> -Indians, instigated by the French, dug up the -hatchet that had been buried for nineteen -years; then there was a call for all the coolness, -cunning, and heroism that this pioneer -life had developed in boy or man; then Beaver, -as the Indians called Billy, and his savage -playmate, Leaping Panther, were compelled -to pit against each other their prowess and -cunning. Narragansett No. 7, right in the -Indians’ trail, was the scene of many an encounter, -often bloody and disastrous in those -days, but more exciting than a Captain Kidd -expedition when looked back upon through -the eyes of the twentieth-century boy. Driving -the oxen, with a gun resting on the top -of the yoke, planting and reaping and every -moment expecting to hear the war-whoop, -creeping serpent-like through the grass and -stealing noiselessly under an overhanging bank -in order to discover an Indian ambush—the -story of all this arouses the heroic in a boy’s -nature.</p> - -<p>After “Good Old Times,” from Mr. Kellogg’s -pen the books came thick and fast,—the -Elm Island stories, the Forest Glen, the Pleasant -Cove, and the Whispering Pine series,—so -that by 1883 there were twenty-nine in all.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> - -<p>While writing these books, the author lived -in Boston, on Pinckney Street, during the winter, -often supplying neighboring pulpits, and -spent the summer at his Harpswell home. -His favorite workshop was the Boston Athenæum. -Here he often wrote from morning -till evening. One of his college mates has -said: “Kellogg when in college was strenuous -and persistent in whatever he undertook. -I remember when he was composing a poem -or preparing an essay, he gave his whole soul -to it; his demeanor showed that he was absorbed -in it and absent-minded to everything -else, until that one thing was done.” This -power of concentration now stood him in good -stead. Often he worked upon his stories fifteen -hours a day. Upon his “Sophomores of -Radcliffe” he spent a year and a half; but by -making his days long and concentrating his -thought upon the one task before him, he was -sometimes able to turn out a book in three -months.</p> - -<p>The style in which these books are written -is not faultless. The participles are sometimes“dangling” or “misrelated.” The uses of“most” and “quite,” of “and which” and -the “historical present,” are not always ac<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span>cording -to the rhetorician’s rules. Flaws may -also be picked with the way some of the characters -are introduced, transitions made, and -statements repeated. But considering the -number of stories the author wrote in these -sixteen years, such mistakes are surprisingly -few. Mr. Kellogg had an ear sensitive to the -flow of a sentence and a memory in which -words stuck. The rhythm of his prose is -noticeably good and his vocabulary excellent. -Well acquainted alike with farmers and sailors, -with mechanics and students, he could put fitting -words into the mouth of each. The language -of his characters does not stultify them: -his carpenters are not fishermen; his sailors -are not landlubbers; his farmers are not caricatures. -He knew well the “down-east” vernacular. -In the use of the dialect—if such -it may be called—of rural New England, Tim -Longley and Isaac Murch can give points even -to Hosea Biglow.</p> - -<p>All of these books are not of the same merit, -and concerning them boys’ opinions differ. -Next to “Good Old Times,” perhaps the Elm -Island and the Pleasant Cove stories are most -after a boy’s heart. An island far enough out -at sea so that the dwellers thereon cannot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> -easily supply their wants and consequently -have to use inventiveness and daring, is an interesting -element in any story, whether it be“Robinson Crusoe,” “Masterman Ready,” or “Lion Ben.” Although not a tropical land -abounding in cocoanuts, turtles, and parrots, -Elm Island affords abundant opportunity for -boys’ play and boys’ work. “Does such an -island really exist?” writes a mother to the -author. “No,” he replied, “only in my own -imagination.” And yet for many boys it does -exist. There is no need to describe Elm Island -to the boys of New England. They have trod -every foot of it and know its every nook and -cranny. They know that it is six miles from -the Maine coast, “broad off at sea,” and that -in the early days fishermen used to land there -and make a fire on the rocks and take a cup -of tea before going out to fish all night for -hake. They have looked admiringly upon its -rich coronal of spruce, fir, and hemlock, the -large grove of elms on its southern end, and -the big beech tree which often has in it as -many as ten blue herons’ nests at one time. -They can tell you of its precipitous shores, -its remarkable harbor, its beautiful cove into -which runs the little brook where come the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> -frostfish and smelts, and where the wild geese, -coots, whistlers, brants, and sea-ducks galore -come to drink. That big rock where the -waves roar hoarsely is White Bull; and this -smaller one, white with the foaming breakers, -is Little Bull.</p> - -<p>They know that “it was a glorious sight to -behold and one never to be forgotten in this -world or the next, when the waves, which had -been growing beneath the winter’s gale the -whole breadth of the Atlantic, came thundering -in on those ragged rocks, breaking thirty -feet high, pouring through the gaps between -them, white foam on their summits and deep -green beneath, and—when a gleam of sunshine, -breaking from a ragged cloud, flashed -along their edges—displaying for a moment -all the colors of the rainbow.... And how -solemn to listen to that awful roar, like the -voice of Almighty God!”</p> - -<p>This island and the neighboring mainland -Mr. Kellogg peopled with likable and interesting -characters. Strong, good-natured Joe -Griffin, beneath whose hat is ever hatching -a practical joke, Uncle Isaac Murch, full of -Indian lore, skilled in the use of tools, always -able to look at things from a boy’s point of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> -view, Captain Rhines, John Rhines, Charlie -Bell, and old Tige Rhines are dear to many a -boy’s heart. And Lion Ben, powerful, overgrown, -agile, slow-tempered, warm-hearted -Lion Ben! Almost as soon could a boy forget -Leather-Stocking as forget Lion Ben.</p> - -<p>Situated as was Narragansett No. 7 some -ten miles inland, in “Good Old Times” Mr. -Kellogg had but little to say of sailors and -the sea. But Elm Island and its sea-loving -people afforded him large opportunity to use -the knowledge of ships and seamen gained -during the three years he had sailed before -the mast, or the twenty he had ministered to -sailors in Harpswell and Boston. He knew -all the pleasures which the sea and shore -afford inventive, resourceful boys like John -Rhines and Charlie Bell. Fishing and swimming, -making kelp siphons, spearing flounders, -shooting coot and geese, building boats and -sailing them into the teeth of the gale—no -author has told of these more entertainingly. -Mr. Kellogg loved the sea dearly and -knew the words and ways of sailors well. “Here,” says a reviewer, “is an author who -knows just what he is writing about. He -never orders his sailors to lower the hatch<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> -over the stern or coil the keelson in the forward -cabin.” He liked nothing better than -to build an “Ark” or a “Hard-Scrabble,” -load her with lumber and farm produce, man -her with Griffins and Rhineses, a snappy crew -of home boys, who would “scamper up the -rigging racing with each other for the weather -earing,” and sail away to the West Indies. -Through hurricanes, blockades, or pirates, they -would sail with colors flying, reach their port -in safety, sell their cargo for a handsome profit, -and come back laden with coffee, molasses, -and Spanish dollars to gladden the hearts of -the dwellers on Elm Island and in Pleasant -Cove.</p> - -<p>The Wolf Run stories depict characters and -events similar to those in “Good Old Times.” -They tell of the way a handful of Scotch-Irish -settlers in the mountain gorge of Wolf Run -on the western frontier of Pennsylvania, about -the middle of the eighteenth century, built -up their homes; and of the “fearful ordeals -through which they passed in consequence of -their deliberate resolve never with life to abandon -their homesteads won by years of toil -from the wilderness.” Here, as in “Good Old -Times,” is a scattered community of a few<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> -families, frugal and hardy, hating injustice -and loving righteousness, to whom food and -shelter of the rudest kind are luxuries, and -life itself is often at stake. These stories are -full of vivid pictures of frontier life, making -the “birch” and the “dug-out,” devising ingenious -makeshifts for tools and furniture, -trapping the wolf and beaver, building and -defending the stockade. Here are many enlivening -accounts of Indian battles, ambushes, -midnight attacks, hair-breadth escapes, and -long, hard chases on the trail of the Mohawks -or the Delawares. Across the pages of these -stories walk sinewy men of oak, in moccasins, -buckskin breeches and coonskin caps, ready -to fight or fall, keen of eye and lithe of limb, -skilled in forest lore, tireless on the chase, -sagacious in finding or covering a trail, keen -marksmen, “delicate in nothing but the touch -of the trigger.” Sam Summerford, Ned Honeywood, -Seth and Israel Blanchard, Bradford -Holdness, Black Rifle,—twin brother of Cooper’s -Long Rifle,—are characters which live -in a boy’s memory. These are stories of strong -lights and dark shades; but they are true to -the life of that day, and show well “what the -heritage of the children has cost the fathers.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> - -<p>In the Whispering Pine stories the author -relates the struggles, achievements and pranks -of a group of students in Bowdoin College. -In these books he has given us a good look -into the lives of students in a small college in -the first half of the nineteenth century, and -has preserved in the amber of his story many -Bowdoin customs.</p> - -<p>He pictures vividly the early Commencement, -when nearly the whole District of Maine -kept holiday. From far and near people came -in carryalls and stages, on horseback, in packets -and pleasure boats, to join in the college merry-making. -Hundreds of carriages bordered the -yard, and barns and sheds were filled with -horses; hostlers were hurrying to and fro -sweating and swearing, and every house was -crammed with people. To Commencement -came not only the beauty, wit, and wisdom of -the district, but also those who cared little for -art or learning. With dignified officials, sober -matrons, and gay belles and beaux came also -horse-jockeys, wrestlers, snake-charmers, gamblers, -and venders of every sort. The college -yard was dotted with booths where were sold -gingerbread, pies, egg-nog, long-nine cigars, -beers small, and, alas! too often, for good order,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> -beers large. While Seniors in the church were -discoursing on “Immortality,” jockeys outside -were driving sharp trades and over-convivial -visitors engaging in free fights.</p> - -<p>In his “Sophomores of Radcliffe” Mr. -Kellogg tells us of the Society of Olympian -Jove, whose customs perhaps sprang partly -from the author’s imagination and partly from -his experience. In those days the initiate -was made to rush through the pines and ford -the dark Acheron, and was carefully taught -the signals of distress—signals which James -Trafton, with work unprepared, the morning -after his initiation, much to the merriment of -the class, proceeded to give to the irritated professor -by squinting at him through his hand.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the most interesting of the early -Bowdoin customs described in these books -is the “Obsequies of Calculus.” This custom -was in vogue many years, and a headstone -can yet be seen upon the campus marking -the spot where the sacred ashes were -consigned to dust. At the end of Junior year -when Calculus was finished, the Junior class -gathered in the mathematical room and there -deposited their copies of Calculus in a coffin. -The coffin was then borne sorrowfully to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> -chapel, where amid wailing and copious lachrymation -a touching eulogy was pronounced. -The orator was wont to discourse of the “gigantic -intellect of the deceased, his amazing -powers of abstraction, his accuracy of expression, -his undeviating rectitude of conduct,” -his strict observance of the motto that, “The -shortest distance between two points is a -straight line.” Then came the elegy in Latin; -after which, amid the grief-convulsed mourners, -the coffin was placed upon a vehicle called by -the vulgar a dump cart, and the noble steed -Isosceles, which “fed upon binomial theorems, -parabolas, and differentials, and every bone of -whose body and every hair of whose skin was -illustrative of either acute or obtuse angles,” -drew the sacred load to its last resting-place. -The funeral procession, consisting of the college -band, Bowdoin artillery, the eulogist and -elegist, and the Freshman, Sophomore, and -Junior classes, moved slowly down Park Row, -through the principal streets of the village to -the rear of the college yard. Here the books -were “placed upon the funeral pyre and burned -with sweet odors, the solemn strains of the -funeral dirge mingling with the crackling of -flames.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">‘Old Calculus has screwed us hard,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Has screwed us hard and sore;</div> - <div class="verse">I would he had a worthy bard</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To sing his praises more.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Peace to thine ashes, Calculus,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Peace to thy much-tried shade;</div> - <div class="verse">Thy weary task is over now,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Thy wandering ghost is laid.’</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>The ashes were collected, placed in an urn, -and enclosed in the coffin. A salute was then -fired by the college artillery. The epitaph, -like that upon the grave of the three hundred -who fell at Thermopylæ, was brief but full of -meaning, having on the tablet at the head,—</p> - -<p class="center"> -CALCULUS,<br /> -</p> - -<p>on that at the foot,—</p> - -<p class="center"> -<i>dx</i>/<i>dy</i> = 0.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>But the Whispering Pine books were written -for other purposes than simply to depict the -life of the college or to let us into the escapades -of the students. The dictum that “all art -must amuse” did not go far enough for Mr. -Kellogg. With all his fun and “frolic temper” -he was too much of a Puritan to make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> -amusement the chief end of his writing. All -of his stories were written with the avowed -purpose of making boys more robust and genuine -and manly, of giving them redder blood -and broader chests and larger biceps, and at -the same time making them hate gloss and -chicanery and love straightforward, courageous, -Christian dealing. So imbued was the -author with this purpose that he wrote his -books, as he expressed it, “while upon his -knees.” Often at first he felt that he should -be preaching rather than writing stories; and -it was not until letters came to him from all -over the country that he realized he was -reaching more boys with his pen than he could -possibly have reached with his voice.</p> - -<p>Although written with a purpose, it is noticeable -that his books are not of the wishy-washy -type. His boys are not Miss Nancies -and plaster saints. They do not die young -and go to heaven; they live and make pretty -companionable kind of men. Mr. Kellogg was -too much of a story-teller and too strong a -believer in truth to distort life for ethical -purposes.</p> - -<p>One does not have to delve deep, however, -to find the lessons which this author would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> -teach. To college boys his advice is, choose -your chums well. College is not simply a -place where learning is bought and sold, where -you pay so much money and get so much -Greek or so much philosophy. Not all college -lessons are in your books, neither are they all -taught in the class-rooms. You will learn -them on the college paths, in your sports, in -your dormitories; and generally it is your -chums who teach them to you. The set of -fellows with whom you cast your lot may -make or mar you. College ties are strong. -The boys with whom you eat and sleep, those -with whom you solve the difficult problems -and pick out the tangles in Greek and Latin, -with whom you stroll of an evening to the -falls or a Wednesday afternoon to the shore, -to whom you tell your future plans, your love -affairs, and your religious doubts, whose sympathies -mingle with yours “like the interlacing -of green, summer foliage,” those fellows -are going to mould your ideals and determine -your character.</p> - -<p>Again, he believed that boys must not be -afraid to lock horns with an obstacle. A -difficult job may be their greatest blessing. -Richardson coddled at home feels himself a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> -weakling by the side of Morton whom difficulties -have made self-reliant. William Frost, who -begins a business career with good looks, good -clothes, and parental influence, returns to his -home in disgrace because he “disregards the -claims of others, esteems labor drudgery, and -expects recompense without service rendered”; -while Arthur Lennox, who sets out from his -Fryeburg home barefoot and penniless, his -only inheritance “a strong arm and a mother’s -blessing,” wins success by unflinching toil. “Hardship,” said Mr. Kellogg, “is a wholesome -stimulant to strong natures, quickening -slumbering energies, compelling effort, and by -its salutary discipline reducing refractory elements.” -The boy who is always dodging difficulties -will make a gingerbread man. Only -by grappling can we gain power to achieve. -Only by having tough junks to split can we -learn “to strike right in the middle of the -knot.”</p> - -<p>The value and dignity of labor is the ever -recurring burden of these stories. They teach -boys to work as well as to play. Through them -all resounds the merry music of labor. The -ring of the axe, the crack of the whip, the -song of the teamster, the screech of the plane,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> -the ring of the anvil, the swish of the scythe, -the chirp of the tackle, the creak of the windlass, -the shout of the stevedore—all in these -books make a happy harmony and witness -that man’s primal curse has become his choicest -blessing. Mr. Kellogg believed with Carlyle -that all work is divine, that to labor is to -pray. Especially did he wish to get out of -boys’ minds the false notion that only mental -work is honorable. He thought that often it -is as honorable to sweat the body as to sweat -the brain. As honorable and as necessary; for -he believed that it is only by keeping the lungs -full of fresh air, and the pores open by perspiration, -and the limbs strong by activity, -that a man can keep his vision from being distorted. “The essence of hoe handle, if persistently -taken two hours a day,” would, he -believed, cure many diseases of the mind and -heart. The devils of fretfulness and fault-finding -are not always to be cast out with -prayer and fasting. Often it requires labor in -the fresh open air,—a good pull against the -tide, a long ride on horseback, or an hour’s -chopping with the narrow axe. Many a disheartened -preacher who now mopes in his -study and who “takes all his texts out of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> -Jeremiah,” would get “Sunday’s harness-marks -erased from the brain,” and preach -glad tidings of great joy if he would only -start the perspiration by healthful, outdoor -exercise. Mr. Kellogg thought a boy should -learn to work with his hands as well as with -his brain. All wisdom, he knew well, is not -in school and college. He appreciated the -value of book learning; but democrat as he was -and well acquainted with common people, he -knew that an illiterate Jerry Williams or an -Uncle Tim Longley can teach scores of valuable -lessons to many a schoolman. The boy -who is too lazy to do some of the practical -duties of life, who thinks it disgraceful to -work with his hands, can have no part or lot -in his kingdom. His boys are always able “to -cut their own fodder.” His ideal college boy -is Henry Morton, who is a keen debater, a -good writer, a lover of the classics and a lover -of nature, but who, at the same time, can hew -straight to the line, cut the corners of many a -farmer, and take the heart of a tree from many -a woodsman.</p> - -<p>Elijah Kellogg gave to the boys of America, -at a time when they needed them most, fresh, -wholesome, stirring stories of out-of-door life.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> -With these stories he both entertained and -taught the boys,—entertained them so well -that they never suspected they were being -taught,—taught them endurance, pluck, integrity, -self-sacrifice. He stimulated them to -effort, inspired them with a respect for labor, -taught them to despise effeminacy, showed -them that “the manly spirit, like Dannemora -iron, defies the fury of the furnace, and even -beneath the hammer gathers temper and tenacity,” -that “pure motives, warm affections, -trust in God, are by no means incompatible -with the greatest enterprise and the most -undaunted courage.” Such was his work as -an author, and it was a work worth while.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" ><a id="p140"></a> -<img src="images/p140.jpg" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">View of the Kellogg Homestead at Harpswell, Maine.</span></div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> - -</div><div class="chapter"></div><div class="chapter"> - - -<h2><a name="LAST_DAYS_IN_HARPSWELL" id="LAST_DAYS_IN_HARPSWELL"></a>LAST DAYS IN HARPSWELL<br /> - -<small>AS SEEN IN LETTERS AND JOURNAL</small></h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Wilmot Brookings Mitchell</span></p> - - -<p>Mr. Kellogg accepted the call to the -Mariners’ Church in 1854, not because he -had tired of his Harpswell farm or pastorate. -They were as dear to him as ever. But -fitted by nature and by experience to work -among sailors, he saw in the Boston pastorate -increased opportunities for doing good. -Doubtless, too, financial considerations had -their weight in this decision; for he had been -unable to pay for his farm, and he hoped -from the larger salary he would receive at -the Mariners’ Church to save money enough -to cancel that debt. While he was in Boston, -he did not sever his connection with his -Harpswell parish. Each summer he spent -some time on his farm and preached a Sunday -or two at the church. And now and then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> -these people would see him in the winter, -when some special errand of love or of -business called him hither. At such times -they were reminded that the city was not -spoiling their minister, but that he was the -same unique, unselfish, fearless man.</p> - -<p>On one November, for example, he appeared -at “Uncle” William Alexander’s with two -sailors. These men, who had been dissipated, -he had persuaded to sign the pledge. He -feared, however, that if they went off to sea -at once, they would forget their good resolutions -and fall back into their old ways -of drinking. They tried to get work in -Boston and failed. At length they said if -they only had a boat, they could fish for a -living. Mr. Kellogg thought of his own -twenty-five-foot boat, and at once they set out -for Harpswell to get it. The morning after -their arrival a northeast wind was blowing a -gale, kicking up a rough sea. Mr. Kellogg -doubted the feasibility of starting for Boston -in such a gale. Whereupon the sailors -questioned his courage! They did not know -their man. “Don’t dare to, eh? We’ll see -who dares.” Quickly making ready, he set -out in his little boat, while his old neighbors,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> -knowing his absence of caution or of fear, -prophesied disaster. By the time the boat was -off Cape Elizabeth, the old sailors were begging -their captain to make harbor. But no; -they must see who dared! When, cold and -drenched, they reached Gloucester that evening, -they had fully decided never to stump the -sailor-preacher again.</p> - -<p>From 1865, when he resigned as acting -pastor of the Mariners’ Church, until 1882 -Mr. Kellogg continued to reside in Boston, -busily engaged in writing his books and in -preaching. During these years he supplied -pulpits at Wellesley, Massachusetts (1867), -Cumberland Mills, Maine (1869), Portland, -Maine (1870), and Pigeon Cove, Massachusetts -(1874-1875). To the Warren Church at -Cumberland Mills, the Second Parish Church -at Portland, and the Congregational Church -at New Bedford he received calls; all of which -he declined.</p> - -<p>In 1882 Mr. Kellogg came back to Harpswell -to live for the rest of his life. He had -worked hard in Boston and had made there -many firm friends, but a large city was not the -place for one who loved the smell of earth as -well as he. He had often told his Harpswell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> -friends that if he could consult only his -own wishes, he would rather pass a winter -in a brush camp built on the lee side of -William Alexander’s stone wall than return -to Boston. Like many another, “he found -himself hungry to throw aside the tame and -trite forms of existence and to penetrate the -harsh, true, simple things behind. His imagination -and his heart turned towards the -primitive, indispensable labors on which society -rests,—the life of the husbandman, the -laborer, the smith, the woodman, the builder; -he dreamed the old enchanted dream of living -with nature.”</p> - -<p>Though glad to return, Mr. Kellogg came -back to his first parish a poor man. His -books had made his name known throughout -the United States, but fame and the consciousness -of having done much good were his only -remaining proceeds from years of writing. -By the fire of 1872, and the consequent failure -of his publishers, he had lost money that -he could ill afford to lose. Pressed for funds, -he had even been obliged to sell all his copyrights, -with one exception—that of “Good -Old Times.” He came back to his Harpswell -home in debt, his farm run down, blindness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> -threatening his wife, deafness and old age -beginning to creep upon him. But his old -grit and courage were still left; and he found -his Harpswell friends unchanged, they and -their children eager to welcome him back and -to help him in every way they could. As -General Chamberlain so well shows in the -next chapter, he went to work with a will -to do his best,—farming, preaching, going -wherever duty called on errands of charity -and consolation.</p> - -<p>These were undoubtedly hard years. His -struggle with debt was often embarrassing; -his growing deafness caused him anxiety; and -in 1890 the death of her who had been his -companion and counsellor for more than forty -years bowed him in grief. His son and daughter -besought him to come and make his home -with them. But that was not his way. He -must stay in Harpswell and do his work.</p> - -<p>Between 1883 and 1889 Mr. Kellogg preached -in the neighboring town of Topsham, driving -up Saturday afternoon and returning Monday -morning. In 1889 he came back to his old -pulpit, and there, in the church that had been -built for him, he continued to preach, until he -died, on March 17, 1901, with this message to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> -his faithful flock upon his lips, “I want to send -my love to all these people.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Journal.</div> - -<p>As one reads the journal which Mr. Kellogg -kept during these years of struggle, “the years,” -as he called them, “of the right hand of the -Most High,” one feels that out of the struggle -came a character which ease and plenty could -not have given him. His boyish enthusiasm, -his ready wit, his fun and humor, are all -here; and here, too, is the faith of one who -walked as seeing the Invisible. He indeed -proved the promise, “To him that overcometh -will I give to eat of the hidden manna.”</p> - -<p>His abounding gratitude, his childlike faith, -his willingness to put his hand in God’s and be -led of Him, his love for his people, and the way -prayer and deed were beautifully intermingled -in his life, may be seen on every page that he -wrote during these last years.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">May 29, 1882.</div> - -<p>I have kept the day as a day of fasting and -prayer. I have been called by the church to -go to Harpswell. I dare not refuse to go; at -the same time I do not see how I can go.... -I have this day endeavored to cast my burden -on the Lord, feeling that as He has sent me to -Harpswell, He will provide me with a way of -getting there and enable me to do my necessary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> -work. And I have resolved to trace and set -down the different steps by which I am led -and to mark the finger of God in them all.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Sabbath, -June 18, -1882.</div> - -<p>I have preached half a day and the people -seemed to make much effort to get to meeting, -and seemed, I thought, very tender.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">April 2, 1884.</div> - -<p>In the evening went to see —— —— and -had a most pleasant evening. I believe I can -do good in that family.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">April 17, -1884.</div> - -<p>This afternoon I went to the college. Found -a new student, Morton, who comes to meeting, -and he invited me to his room. Saw B—— -and gave him a hint about his soul.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">June 18, -1884.</div> - -<p>I had my barley on the ground and by working -through the afternoon and getting to Topsham -the last moment could have sowed it, but -my conscience told me that was not in the -spirit of the resolutions made the Sabbath -before. Corrupt nature said, “It is duty to -get your bread.” I was enabled to say, “Corruption, -go about your business, my business -is with God.” I went to my knees, made -preparation for the Friday night meeting, and -was enabled by grace, on a pleasant, sunny -afternoon at four o’clock, to turn my back -cheerfully on my work and go to Topsham.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">June 28, -1884.</div> - -<p>I finished sowing barley to-day, and I knelt -down on the ground and prayed to God that -as I had used my own judgment to the best -advantage, had taken the advice of others, had -worked diligently, and had not neglected my -duty to Him that He would be pleased to bless -this crop sown so late and under so many disadvantages -and give me from it some good -returns.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Nov. 26, -1885.</div> - -<p>Rose early. Prayed with my wife, provided -for her comforts, and started for Topsham. -About four or five inches of snow, the first of -the season, all blown in heaps, the ground -frozen, wind northeast by north. A cold ride. -Got to the Baptist house in time.... I thank -God I have done my duty. I have since coming -home prayed for Harpswell and have been -to the old willows and to the rock in the field -and thanked God. Oh, my God, I thank Thee -that I have for the first time since my mother -died eaten a Thanksgiving dinner in this -house, and the first time since I was married, -all the intervening winters being spent in -Boston and Thanksgiving observed in a hired -house. I ate Thanksgiving in this room with -my blessed mother for whom I built this house, -to provide a happy home for her in her old age,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> -in November, 1849, thirty-six years ago, and -have never eaten a Thanksgiving dinner here -with my wife till to-day, though we have been -married thirty-one years; and never with my -children who were born in Boston where we -have resided since our marriage with the exception -of the summers spent here. But I -have never formed any attachment to Boston. -Here is my home. I cut the greater part of -the timber of this house with my own hands, -had a hard struggle to build it, and a harder to -keep it. I thank God this night I am in it -once more. God give me a grateful heart.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Nov. 27, -1885.</div> - -<p>I have been wont to kneel at the threshold -when I went out in the morning for the first -time. It seems natural, loving, and right in -every way to ask God’s blessing the first thing -before touching the world’s work, and when -I do it, the day’s efforts always seem successful.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Nov. 29, -1885.</div> - -<p>God in great mercy has relieved me of my -cold and given me an exchange at Harpswell, -so that I preached to my old people. I have -had a fire in my study, read my mother’s -Bible, visited the old willows, the rock, the old -maple, the Skolfield barn, the burnt tree, all -my old praying spots, and read over the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> “record of the years of the right hand of the -Most High.”</p> - -<div class="sidenote">May 19, -1886.</div> - -<p>Went to the old pine, read the Word at the -foot of it, and prayed for wisdom. It did me -good. My heart warmed to the spot. Went -to Knowlton; he was very kind, left his recitations, -and got me the book I wanted.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">July 4, 1886.</div> - -<p>Rose at six-thirty. Prayed and gave thanks. -I strove to put myself into the hand of God. -Mr. Little came for me in a chaise. We went -to my father’s old church where I prayed and -pronounced the benediction. At two-thirty we -went to the city hall. About two thousand -people were there. I spoke twenty-one minutes -to the apparent satisfaction of those who listened -and those who brought me here, and -the friends and benefactors who have stood by -me in my trouble. I call upon my soul and -all that is within me to bless the holy name -of God who has turned this thing I so dreaded -into an ovation, and has given me strength, -patience, and perseverance to prepare for it -under the pressure of work and still not -neglect anything.... I thank God that in -this city where I was born, where my father -preached so many years, I have received from -the city authorities so much respect, they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> -sending a carriage for my wife and me, honoring -me as his son, and fulfilling the promise -of a covenant-keeping God, who declares that -He will show mercy unto those that love Him -even unto the third and fourth generations. -I cannot express my feelings of gratitude that -I who so tried him and my mother have been -made by God the means of honoring their -memory.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">July 6, -1886.</div> - -<p>Rose early. Prayed and gave thanks. A -carriage was sent to take my wife and me to -the city hall to listen to the oration by -Hon. Thomas B. Reed. I was given a seat -beside him. From there we went to a clam -bake on Long Island, and there I met and -had much talk with Phillips Brooks. In the -evening we went to the last meeting, which -consisted in a general talk on reminiscences. -Thus has closed this Portland centennial. I -have here received the most kindly attention, -not only from religious people, but from the -civil authorities; have been introduced to a -great many people who have read my books -and who have spoken “Spartacus,” Phillips -Brooks among the rest. I now humbly thank -God and ask Him to keep me.... Went -to see Mr. Ezra Carter; he is confined to his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> -bed. He was very glad to see me. There -was not time to see him and go to my parents’ -graves where I wanted to thank God for the -manner in which my father’s name had been -honored in me. But Ezra Carter has been -my friend for years. He helped me put my -father in his coffin, and was for years his -friend, and therefore, as I could not do both, -I thought it would be more acceptable to God -to comfort the living than to pray at the -grave of the dead.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Oct. 19, 1886.</div> - -<p>Oh, how great is the goodness of God to me! -I have been to-day keeping thanksgiving in -my closet and in the sanctuary; though having -extra duties, I have found much time to -pour out my soul in thanksgiving to God. -I have been looking back upon the sea of -providential mercies and noting the most prominent -ones, but oh, it is all mercies. The trials -have brought forth mercies. I should never -have known what God is if He had not known -my soul in adversities. He has been around -my path in the daytime, my couch at night.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Nov. 7, 1886.</div> - -<p>This has been to me a most interesting, -peaceful, and solemn Sabbath. It is with us -a day of Sacrament. At the conference yesterday -I chose this subject for my remarks:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> “Open thou thy mouth and I will fill it.” -It touched every chord of my soul. Indeed, -I have of all persons to open my mouth wide, -for my necessities are very great. The purport -of the whole text and context is that of -a Being so magnificent in all His attributes, -so infinite in His fulness, that we may, and -are encouraged to, ask great favors. And -on the strength of it, after looking over the -record of God’s mercies in my journal for -the past six years, I went to the altar where I -have administered the communion and threw -myself upon the mercy of God and opened my -mouth wide and asked Him for His name’s -sake through Christ to put me in a way of paying -my debts that are such a dishonor to His -cause, as I have consecrated my labor to Him -and work only for daily bread and to pay my -debts.... I also asked Him to grant me -His Holy Spirit to interpret aright the indications -of His providence, for I surely do not -wish to be a revelation to myself. I cannot -judge of their bearing on the present or the -future. His written revelations would be a -sealed book to me without His spirit, and so -will the unwritten of His providence. I can -see that preparation for another year may<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> -have very important bearing on my stay here -and on my attempting to write a book: two -things which have sadly perplexed me, and -which I am waiting and praying for the providence -of God to solve, as He has by His providence -solved so many other things and brought -me out of so many difficulties which in prospect -seemed insurmountable. I feel now glad -that Mr. Kendall did not come for me to -preach at Bowdoinham, though I sadly needed -the money; for I feel that I have seen my -Father’s face, and I mean to mark the way by -which He leads me and take every step with -prayer. God, in mercy withhold me from attempting -or even desiring to work any deliverance -of my own. I now prepare for the -evening service.... I have just returned. -The meeting was full of young people. I certainly -have no reason to complain of my -audience, though they may have of me. God -bless them. I do not dread this week so -much as I did. God grant my first thought -may be directed to Him. Glory to God for -this pleasant Sabbath.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Sept. 29, -1887.</div> - -<p>Rose early, prayed, and gave thanks. Hauled -in the forenoon all the rocks required. Mr. -Getchell finished at noon. In the afternoon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> -I took him to Brunswick, paid him, got my -lime and sand, and got home by dark. I have -knelt down beside the wall that is now finished -and humbly thanked God for doing this -kindness to me, for He has done it. Blessed -be God for the mercies of this day.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Oct. 25, 1887.</div> - -<p>Rose early. Prayed at the hearthstone and -the threshold. John came. We sawed, split, -and hauled the wood. The old house windows -surprised him. We then prepared the horses, -and at noon John went home. Though -pressed with work, I felt prompted to go to -the burnt tree and went to that and to the -old maple and thanked God and prayed for -little Frank. Made my fires and the company -began to come. They poured in with full -hands and warm hearts to the number of -eighty or more. Surely God’s dealing with -me in most unthought-of ways. Glory to God -for the mercies of the twenty-fifth of October.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">April 25, -1889.</div> - -<p>This has been the day of the National Fast, -but has been more of a thanksgiving than a -fast to me, although I have abstained from food -and striven to humble myself before God.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Nov. 25, -1889.</div> - -<p>Went to the Skolfield barn, prayed, and then -with a tackle and much contrivance put my ox -cart on the scaffold. I then took the wheels<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> -from the axle, and stowed them and the axletree -away below. It took me a long time, -and was hard work. William and his boy -and myself would have done it in ten minutes, -but as they thought and said I could not do -it, I did. If it had been twenty years ago, I -should have got help; but a person situated as -I am—in debt, and having to begin life anew—must -not show any sign of failure of strength -or energy. I did it not for vanity but on calculation, -as a duty. Especially is the sin of -old age fatal to a minister.... I am now -going to treat myself to a little agricultural -reading.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Letter to Dr. -George P. -Jefferds of -Bangor, Oct. -24, 1890.</div> - -<p> ... I am well and can preach and work -and do all that I ever could, but I have become -deaf so that I cannot do anything in a -social meeting.... My people have retained -their affection for me as strong as ever. It -was a love match at the beginning, and so it -has continued; the children and grandchildren -have followed suit. I never have regretted -going to Harpswell, and I do not regret that -I wrote the books; for if I have reaped -nothing, I have abundant testimony that I -have scattered good seed in virgin soil.... -I am more than glad that I learned to farm in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> -my youth, and that I have all these years -kept up my habits of labor, that I can do any -kind of farm labor and take care of cattle, for -otherwise I should not at this time have a -place to put my head.</p> - -<p>I am writing you to-night before an old-time -open fire, and I cut in the woods the -fuel which feeds it. I am thankful that -deafness is no bar to labor nor to writing. If -it were not for the illness of my wife, I believe -I should write a book this winter.... -I send you with this letter a copy of the Commencement -number of the <i>Orient</i>, by which -you will see that Bowdoin boys feel their oats -and have aspired to govern themselves. May -God bless old Jeff, and may his shadow never -grow less.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Letter to -son, June 1, -1893.</div> - -<p>You may be assured it is from no lack -of affection or sympathy with you in your -mishap that I have not written before, but a -complication of circumstances, some of them of -a very sad nature, has rendered it impossible. -In the first place, I strained my heel cord -either by jumping out of the wagon or by -wearing a very tight congress boot, and had -to limp around for about ten days, but am all -right now. Don’t you think, the second night<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> -it was done, just as I was going to bed, two -men came from Bailey Island for me to attend -a funeral the next day at two o’clock. I told -them it was impossible as I could with greatest -difficulty hobble to the barn. They said there -was no minister in town but me, and if I did -not go, the person would have to be buried -without any service. Upon that I told them -to go to John Randall’s and tell him to come -over in the morning, and take me to the intervale -point where they must meet me with a -boat. John came; we rode to the point. -John took me in his arms and put me into -the boat. When we were across, two men, -one on each side, led me to the house; when -we got to the doorstep one of them said, “Mr. Kellogg, do you think you will be able -to preach?” I replied, “Put me before the -people, and the Lord will tell me what to -say.” The next morning my foot and leg -were swollen to the knee, and I could not get -on a rubber boot, but had to wear arctics.... -I am all right now, however, and carried a -bushel of apples on my back to-day.</p> - -<p>I put the harness on the colt this week for -the first time since the 10th of last August, the -week before I was hurt, and he behaved so well<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> -that I had to give him some sugar. I have -cleaned him all up, combed his hair and washed -his face, and he goes to school every day. He -is a strapping great fellow and full of grit.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Letter to -son, Dec. 1, -1893.</div> - -<p>It is a rainy evening and I take it to write -to you. Yesterday was a most lovely day. I -went to George Dunning’s to dinner. Frank’s -wife gave us a splendid dinner,—turkey, pudding, -pies, and fruit, grapes and oranges. Betsy -was quite disappointed; she meant to have -me, but Frank got the start of her and invited -me about the middle of the month. I let -Delia go home right after breakfast, and told -her I would get my supper. I came home -from George Dunning’s about three o’clock, -took care of the cattle and got an early supper, -and had a long evening alone; that was -just what I wanted and was planning for. I -never can feel that Thanksgiving Day should -be all taken up with eating and merriment. -I never spent a happier evening than I did -last evening in looking over the year, and in -praising God for what He has done for me. I -have food, fuel, and clothing, and food for my -cattle that have come to the barn in excellent -order. Let us be grateful. Gladness is not -always gratitude.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> - -<p>I have been to Brunswick and preached to -the students in Memorial Hall. I will send -you and Mary both a notice of it. There are -two magazines and you can exchange them. -I feel quite happy that I have got through -with the students. They checkmated me. I -did not want to go and did not mean to, -but Dr. Mason, the minister at Brunswick, -and President Hyde wrote me and backed -them up, and also the Brunswick people who -gave me a good deal at the donation and -have for several years followed suit; I had -to give in. I was afraid I should not be -able to see in the evening, as the hall is very -large and I have been preaching in a small -house for two years; but there was no trouble. -It was a splendid light and I had the service -all in my own hands; no responsive readings. -The students did the singing and gave me -two anthems. After it was all over, I had to -shake hands with twenty-five or thirty, and -President Hyde said he could hear every word.</p> - -<p>The town has made a road to the Lookout. -They are going to build a wharf in the spring, -and the Mere Point boat will run there. It -will be of no benefit. It will bring a Sunday -boat, rum, and tramps of all kinds.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span></p> - -<div class="sidenote">Letter to -son, March -29, 1894.</div> - -<p>I am glad you are having such good weather, -and that you are enjoying yourself setting out -fruit trees. You can see now why it is that -I am so much attached to this spot. I have -been through just what you are going through -now. I am eating the fruit of the trees I -have planted and grafted, and am sheltered -by them in the winter and sit under their -shadow in the summer. Such labors attach -us in a most singular manner to the spot we -have improved. The trees seem almost like -children.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Letter to -son, Jan. 22, -1895.</div> - -<p>You ought to have been here to take supper -with us last night. I got a peck of large -clams. Fannie baked the most of them and -we set to work tooth and nail. I never ate so -many before in my life at one time. I was -almost afraid to go to bed, but I had a good -night’s sleep and experienced no trouble. We -have had very cold weather till the last week -when it has been moderate. Until last Thursday -I have not been to Brunswick since the -week before Christmas. The Sundays have -been so stormy that we could not have meetings, -and I never preached my New Year’s -sermon till last Sunday which was a very -pleasant day.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p> - -<p>I have before me two letters both from -different places in New York State and from -men who have made their mark in the world, -who attribute their success in life to the influence -of my books. I had almost made up -my mind to send them to you. Such letters -do me good. I at one time used to fear that -I had done wrong in devoting so much time -to writing that might have been given to -preaching the Gospel, but I have of late had -so many letters of this kind that I feel differently, -especially when I consider how many -more persons a book reaches than a sermon.</p> - -<p>I have never been so pleasantly situated -since my great loss in parting with your -mother as I am now. I have food, fuel, -raiment, and health. There has not been a -Sabbath since I was hurt that I have not -been able to preach, nor a single day in the -week that I have not been able to take care -of my cattle and do all my work. I am sure -this is something to thank God for. It is -wealth without riches. Is it not something -to thank God for to have so many friends, -so many to love you and wish you well, and -feel that you have been able to benefit them? -When I looked over that assembly of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> -hundred and twenty-five persons last fall at -the donation, many of them the grandchildren -of old friends, and when I look at Fannie -sitting here ready to anticipate all my wants, -and doing all in her power to make me happy, -and think here is the grandchild of Pennell -Alexander, one of my earliest and best friends, -I feel that life is worth living, at least for me.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Letter to -son, Dec. 3, -1895.</div> - -<p>Thirty years ago, Alcott Merriman died and -left four young children fatherless and motherless. -He was a great friend of mine, and I -kept run of the children. Fourteen years ago -Irving, the youngest, was taking me down to -Potts’s, and I entered into conversation with -him and urged him to give his heart to God. -He received it so kindly that I began to pray -for him and the other three boys, Alcott, John, -and Paul Sprague, and have prayed for them -ever since some time every day. Alcott was -converted and is a member of my church; -Irving was taken very sick a few months ago. -I went to see him and found that he had not -forgotten the conversation fourteen years ago, -and was then praying for himself. I became -intensely interested in him. I wanted him to -get well. I asked my church and many others -to pray for him, that God would forgive his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> -sins and raise him up. I went to see him -every week. He lived almost down to Potts’s -and the going has been bad. God did not see -fit to raise him up, but He gave him a new -and wonderful peace of mind. I wish you a -happy New Year....</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Letter to -son, Jan. 1, -1896.</div> - -<p>Perhaps you recollect Mr. McKeen, the -president of the alumni of Bowdoin College, -who introduced me at the centennial. He -sent <i>The Outlook</i> for a year and five dollars -as a Christmas present. He is the man who -owns Jewel’s Island. It seems to me as if -God had been with every step I have taken -all this month. Everything I have put my -hand to has prospered. I have my whole -winter stock of wood under cover. Since I -was injured I have always ridden to the -afternoon meeting, but all this month and part -of last I have walked. My fodder corn held -out till the tenth of November. I have plenty -of hay and my people seem to love me better -than ever. I hated to part with the old -year; it has been a pleasant year to me.... -The missionary society got so poor in the hard -times that they gave notice that they must -cut down twenty-five per cent the churches -which they helped, but they did not cut me<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> -down; was not that remarkable? Thus you -see I have a Shepherd who watches over me.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Letter to -daughter -Mary, Jan. -25, 1899.</div> - -<p>Though I have not written to you for a -long time, you have seldom been out of my -thoughts. I never had so many engagements -as of late,—funerals, weddings, and letters -that must be written. There were two persons, -a brother and sister by the name of -Chaplin from Georgetown, Massachusetts, who -have visited here several years and have -always been very constant at meeting. They -were here the first Sunday in August when I -preached in the old church where I preached -my first sermon to the Harpswell people fifty-five -years ago. At Christmas they sent me -a most kind letter and a present of handkerchiefs -and neckties. I think I will send you -the letter that you may know what friends I -have among the summer visitors....</p> - -<p>George Dunning is dead. I shall miss him -very much; we have been near neighbors and -friends for more than half a century. There -were seventy-five persons that got together, -hewed out and raised the frame of my house -when I came here to live, and George Barnes -and Stover Pennell are all that are left of -them....</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p> - -<p>Deafness is a great deprivation; it cuts me -off from exchanging and going from home to -preach. I go up to the college, but President -Hyde sits beside me and keeps me from making -blunders. I wanted to give up preaching -three years ago, but our folks said they had -rather hear me pronounce the benediction -than any one else preach a whole sermon. I -thank God for the love of my people even to -the third generation.... I went to Betsy’s -Thanksgiving to dinner, spent the rest of the -day in praising God for the great measure of -strength He has given me this winter and -courage to face the weather and do a good -deal of work; also for the help He has given -me in hard places.... Thus I had a most -happy day with my Maker and Benefactor -who has held the tangled thread of my life -all these years, who has by His providence -preserved me from perishing in some of those -harebrained, presumptuous freaks into which -my reckless nature led me. I look back upon -it all with astonishment and with gratitude. -I can hardly realize that I once tied up one-fourth -of a pound of powder and the same -quantity of saltpeter and sulphur, and because -the fuse I had fastened to it would not ignite,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> -held it in my fingers and put a fire coal to it -with the other hand. I was fearfully burnt; -all the skin came off from my face, hands, and -throat. But God had some better use for me -when that courage was needed in His service. -God bless you, my child!</p> - -<div class="sidenote">To daughter -Mary, April -26, 1899.</div> - -<p>I am glad that you have named the little one -Hugh. I trust that he will grow up to inherit -not only the name, but the virtues and qualities -of the old stock.... I am alone and -have been for a month. It was a great trial -to me losing Esther; she was like a daughter -to me and anticipated all my wants. I trust -the good Father who has thus far provided for -me will continue His paternal care.... I -have outlived a multitude of good friends and -helpers, but the great Friend, He of whom other -friends are the instruments, is everlasting.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Letter to -son, June 25, -1900.</div> - -<p>We had a great time here yesterday. We -put off our service till eleven o’clock, which -gave time for the boat to arrive and bring a -great crowd from Portland. Many of them -were old friends of mine. Every one seemed -pleased and satisfied. It would have been a -very hard day for me, but Fannie came over -and got dinner, and John Randall carried me -down, so that I had no horse to harness and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> -take care of. I have lost one of the best -friends I ever had in George Barnes. He was -but a boy when I came here, and he helped -me to get the timber to build my house.</p> - -<div class="sidenote">Last entry -in Journal, -Jan. 14, 1901.</div> - -<p class="space-below">I am going to spend this evening in thanksgiving -to God.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" ><a id="p168"></a> -<img src="images/p168.jpg" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Aunt Betsy and Uncle William Alexander, for fifty years -nearest neighbors and dear friends of Elijah Kellogg.</span></div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> - -</div><div class="chapter"> - - -<h2><a name="REMINISCENCES" id="REMINISCENCES"></a>REMINISCENCES</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain</span></p> - - -<p>A student coming to Bowdoin College -in 1848 found the fame of Elijah Kellogg -already among historic traditions, shading -somewhat into the atmosphere of legend and -the heroic. Wild stories of his youthful exuberance, -and the surprising ways he had of -manifesting it, involved so much that was -extreme in prowess and peril, that they led -more to wonder than to imitation. An unusual -quality and combination of intellectual -gifts, and a quaint style both of utterance -and action, together with an openness of heart, -and ease of manner quite peculiar to himself, -gave him the reputation both of a genius, and -of a queer genius.</p> - -<p>His writings, too, had a peculiar effect that -set him apart from others. So much of his -stirring power had been poured into his classic -descriptions that they were something like<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> -storage-batteries of manly emotion. Whoever -of the prize declaimers took “Spartacus” for -his performance was pretty sure to take the -prize also, whoever were the judges; and -it came to be deemed not quite fair for a -contestant for the prize to make this his -selection.</p> - -<p>These stories and associations connected -with his name gave a certain glamour to the -idea of him before his personal presence -showed how real he was. But surely to those -who were disposed to enjoy all the advantages -of college life, Elijah Kellogg was far from -being a mythical personage. Although a -well-employed minister of a church in the -congenial neighboring town of Harpswell, he -found frequent occasion to visit the college; -and preferably, it seemed, at unappointed -times. He did indeed, occasionally upon -notice, address the religious societies, greatly -to their enjoyment and spiritual edification. -But he did not come into classrooms with -formal introduction by the dignified professor. -More likely his visit would be at a private -room, and his announcement by a simple -knock, known by its frankness and assurance, -at any time and at any student’s room he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> -thought he wanted to see. This was the signal, -not for a general clearance, as would be the -case in certain other instances, but for the summoning -of a little group of special friends and -those ambitious to become such. This was the -beginning of free and wide discussion along the -unmeasured circle of the <i>nihil humani alienum</i>. -It need not be said that these communications -were held in a noble range, and a thoroughly -manly and wholesome tone. Sometimes, such -was his confidence in us, or distinct intention -of putting us each on his own responsibility, -as to taking easy occasion to make fools of -ourselves, that he would get upon the recital -of old sea stories, and perhaps touch lightly -on his boyish pranks in college. The element -of personal courage, strength, self-reliance, the -despising of physical danger whether of accident -or consequence, lifted these examples out -of the suggestion of meanness and trickery, -which were far from him as he would have -them far from any friend of his. Moreover, -without the robust qualities of mind and nerve -which characterized the original, no boy would -be foolish enough to be led to imitation which -would surely end in failure and ridicule. All -that was said or intimated in these recitals<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> -was always with loyalty to the college and to -the ideals of manliness.</p> - -<p>If these symposiums were prolonged so far -into the night as to render inexpedient his -questionable return to his Harpswell domicile, -it was easy to find a bed in a college room -for such time as there was remaining before -morning prayers. As to that matter, at the -house in town of more than one hard-headed -old sea-captain there was always ready just at -the head of the stairs, with doors unlocked, a -room set apart for Elijah Kellogg.</p> - -<p>In the opinion of all he was the good genius -of the college. The fellowship he held there -was of a higher order than that pertaining to -the arts and sciences; it was in the department -of sound living and straightforwardness. -Not only was he the friend of every student, -but he was especially so of those who needed -some guidance or correction inspired by sympathetic -understanding and directed by practical -good sense. For the faculty he served -an office in the disciplinary line not easily -described,—call it adviser, mediator, mitigator, -or demonstrator of applied common sense. -He had an idea that parents sent their boys -to college to be made to stay there and per<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span>form -their duties and work out their best, -rather than to be sent away when any little -thing went wrong with them. Still he admitted -exceptions.</p> - -<p>One of the recognized degrees of punishment -in those days was that of “rustication,”—country -residence being supposed to be a -balance or compensation for some of the tendencies -of the pursuit of the fine or liberal -arts within a college town. This was applied -to cases not quite deserving of technical “suspension”; -but still was in fact removal from -actual attendance on college exercises, whether -required or prohibited,—a forced residence at -the home of some scholarly and judicious -gentleman, where the attractions would be -wholesome influences rather than dangerous -temptations, and where the pupil might receive -instruction in the three branches of -learning pertaining to a classical course, and -thus be enabled to do what seemed less likely -within college walls,—to keep up with his -class.</p> - -<p>Such were the peculiar qualities of Mr. -Kellogg that these temporary sojourns with -him were much in fashion at that time, and, -it is truth to say, rather sought for by those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> -a little backward or wayward. Borne on the -college books as a grade of punishment, it -certainly was not of the vindictive, but of the -reformatory, or rather, the sanitary character. -In either aspect, to the delinquent “student” -this punishment was by no means clothed with -terrors. To take up such familiar relations -with a man of stalwart manhood, who never -lost his sympathy and love for youth, and had -the faculty of putting every one at his ease -and at his best, to say nothing of the provision -for needful exercise by going out often with -an able seaman in a stout Hampton boat, -braving the terrors of the seas, and the beauties -of the islands of Casco Bay,—this should -bring a boy whose forces were not yet knit -together in just balance, to his best of body -and heart and mind, and to some clearness of -purpose and steadfast resolution.</p> - -<p>When after three years the writer of these -lines returned to the college as professor, Mr. -Kellogg appeared in a new phase. The young -wife had known him under this higher aspect -during her girlhood association with mature -and cultivated people. So we met now with -a broader intellectual horizon. His opinions -on theological, public, and political questions<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> -were rather conservative, but they were illuminated -by his warm heart. His presence -was cheering in the home as in the college -room. He was a good adviser on practical -questions of life—for other people!</p> - -<p>When the War of the Rebellion threatened -the existence of the Union and some of us -went out for its defence, we looked to see him -take the field or the seas for the honor of the -flag under which he had sailed. But he saw -his duty otherwise. He was not even drawn -by the considerations which appealed to some -of our brightest college men, to take service -as paymaster in the navy. With so many -men gone forward, he thought he had a duty -to the homes.</p> - -<p>After the war, when circumstances brought -the relater of this into more responsible positions, -our acquaintance became yet closer. -He let himself be seen at his best, and also in -his deeper needs. He had done a great and -honored work among the sea-faring men in -Boston, and he had written many right-minded, -bracing books for boys which have gone the -world over. All, however, from a singular -course of mishaps, brought him more fame -than fortune. He had held on to his old<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> -place and church relations in Harpswell; and -thither he returned. His old people welcomed -him back and gave him their hearty support. -But with all that could be reasonably done, -his income could not overtake his outgo. He -was in the position of Paul in the storm, with -four anchors out of the stern, wishing for the -day.</p> - -<p>But he had a good little farm on Harpswell -Neck, a long way off the main road but with -a fine outlook on the bay. With some strange -freak,—an abnormal desire for seclusion perhaps,—he -had shut off his front view by -planting a thick hedge of black-spruce trees, -effectually concealing his home from the bay -view whether from without or from within. -This black belt, however, served to mark the -mouth of the channel for those of us obliged -to make port farther up the bay, or good -anchorage ground before his door for those -who were bound to see him even if they had -to carry intrenchments.</p> - -<p>Well understanding the meaning of the old -Antæus fable, he thought to recover strength -by contact with the earth. He betook himself -to his farm. No man ever worked harder -at this or more completely conformed to its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> -demands. City friends, of the learned professions, -were not always considerate of his -conditions and the pressure of his “environment.” -One Saturday evening just before -sunset, and a shower rapidly coming up, he -was in his barn pitching off a load of hay up -to the “great beams,” with two loads more -to get in before the shower, when the “girl” -came running out of the house calling, “Mr. -Kellogg, Mr. Kellogg, there’s two ministers -come, and I think they mean to stay to supper!” -Strong stories are told about his -remarks on this occasion; but when questioned -as to the truth of them, he would -neither affirm nor deny.</p> - -<p>With his honesty and sincerity he did not -think it necessary to change his working suit -when he came to Brunswick for exchange of -farm products for commodities. His classical -friends could scarcely recognize him trudging -through the streets accompanying—not driving—his -contemplative oxen. More easily -recognizable was he when, homeward bound -and fairly out of the village, he would spur -them to a brisk trot, and enter port as suited -him well, on the jump, with “very rag of -canvas flying.” At times, when under press<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span>ure, -he would drive to town with a peculiarly -endowed colt he had raised, whose inclination -to freedom and independent “rustication” -seemed to have well qualified for a degree in -the liberal arts. On one of these voyages the -demonstrations in these directions were of such -centrifugal order as to dislocate the normal -relations of horse, harness, wagon, and driver, -and even the continuity of some constituent -parts of the respective latter three, leaving -wreck and confusion behind, and nothing to -get home whole but the colt. Mr. Kellogg’s -friends earnestly advised him to sell the colt; -but to no avail. He seemed to like the colt -better than ever; whether because of the -colt’s facility of “high action,” or from the -force of classical studies, applauding the victor -in the game, or perhaps from that tenderness -of heart that would not forsake a sinner.</p> - -<p>With all his love for the beautiful Birch -Island just across the narrow channel of the -bay, which he had begun to frequent when -a college boy, he had an inclination—or -what the French call a “penchant,” both a -leaning and a drawing—toward the wild -and odd. This had led him to carry his boat -voyages around to the east side of Harpswell,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> -amidst some very bad ledges and boisterous -seas, across to Ragged Island. This has only -a little boat-harbor, and is so difficult of access, -so storm-lashed and grim, that it was believed -to have been, if not still to be, a resort for -those who had reason to avoid the customs -officers and agents of the courts, and not less -implacable creditors. A curious impulse to -know more about such a place led Mr. Kellogg -to make acquaintance with this weird -fastness in the seas, and the very eccentric character -who at that time made his dwelling there. -It is said that he even bought a half interest -in the island. Many queer stories have come -down from that passage in his experience,—chiefly -of his quickness at repartee when some -self-sufficient wight thought to pose him with -a sea-dog witticism; and of his skill in restoring -strong, rude friendships so quickly broken -by some fancied disregard of the extreme sensibilities -of the longshoreman’s personal code. -His influence upon that class of men was wonderful, -owing to their absolute faith in his -integrity and absence of self-seeking. As to -his Ragged Island proprietorship, whether he -sold out or was sold out, the result would -be about the same to him. It was possibly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> -such business ventures as this which deepened -the embarrassment in balancing his accounts.</p> - -<p>In the course of this varied struggle things -came to such a pass that he made known his -condition to some of his most intimate friends. -His farm was heavily mortgaged,—in fact for -about all it was worth,—and the mortgage -note was overdue and payment rigorously -demanded. His home was in danger, and -he seemed quite broken up about it. In a -very private way this payment was provided -for, and the mortgage taken off. It was a -day of deep revelations when this burden was -lifted, and he returned to a home which was -in the dispensations of both law and gospel -his own. Nor was it any great surprise to -hear it said that it was mortgaged again not -long afterwards. That would be the natural -outcome of habits he indulged in, of which a -characteristic story may be an example. His -self-forgetfulness was of so obvious a character -that his neighbors saw fit to provide a fine -new overcoat to cover one mark of this deficiency. -Putting it on one cold day soon afterwards -to drive to Brunswick, he met a poor -fellow, gaunt and thin as to flesh or other cov<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span>ering, -poking his way down the Neck to something -he called home. Plain greetings were -exchanged, when Mr. Kellogg exclaimed rather -than questioned, “Tom, haven’t you any better -clothes than that!”—”No, Parson Kellogg,” -came the apology, “I hain’t got no others at -all!” Off came the new overcoat, with the -Kellogg outcome, “Take this, then; you need -it more than I do!” throwing it over him and -driving out of reach of the astonished man’s -protest, left to the necessity of keeping the -garment for the present, and the possibly not -disagreeable reflection that it would be of no -use to try to give it back at any time. The -absolute verity of this story in every detail -has not been vouched for; but the fact of its -general acceptance among the people shows -that it was true to nature,—that is to say, “Just like Elijah!” Anyway, the story goes -to prove his recognized character.</p> - -<p>All this time he was strictly keeping up his -faithful ministry among his faithful Harpswell -people; doing good to everybody he -met, preaching stanch old-school sermons -with irresistible logic, enlivened by brilliant -flashes of wit and flights of poetry and heart-reaching -illustration; a familiar and welcome<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> -visitor in every house, holding the confidence -and love of every home, sharing joys and -griefs, intrusted with innermost experiences; -smiled at in some sense or other by all who -saw him; respected and revered by all whom -he knew, whether of his fold or of some other, -or perchance without any fold, astray, and, -but for him, lost.</p> - -<p>His public ministerial work knew no limit -but that of the hours of the day. After his -own church service it was his practice to meet -every opportunity to speak to the people on -neighboring shores. Not only was his boat -seen threading the channels among the eastern -Harpswell Islands that made part of his -far-outlying, conglomerate parish, but pushing -its way across the western bays to Flying -Point, Wolf’s Neck, and Freeport,—the track -of this life-message more kindling to the -thought than the thrilling vision of the funeral -boat-train faring to these same places -named in Whittier’s weird poem of “The Dead -Ship of Harpswell.”</p> - -<p>The people among whom Mr. Kellogg came -to minister had marked and interesting characteristics. -Natural advantages for seafaring -business in all its variety had in early times<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> -brought to these shores settlers of a robust type. -Among them were many who, at that period -when minds and bodies were so astir in the -old world and new over questions of life, religion, -and the social order, sought a change -of place that they might find scope for their -abounding energies and unchanging purpose. -These were strong characters—men and -women—strong in body, mind, and heart,—and, -it must be said also, in political and -religious faith. This implies originality, independence, -diversity,—the outcome of which -is not a tame common likeness in the elements -of a community, but differences which when -properly harmonized give strength to the -social structure. These leading spirits organized -their likenesses and differences into a little -republic, based upon integrity, and by mutual -service tending to the common good realizing -what was best in the ability of each. They -prospered. Many a noble old homestead -stands to-day on these island fronts and headlands, -testifying to the uses they made of this -prosperity. These characteristics appeared in -their descendants down to the third and fourth -generation.</p> - -<p>It was the holding together of this society,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> -the harmonizing of these elements, and bringing -out their power for good, that made the -inspiring and noble work for Elijah Kellogg. -With a warm heart for all; the quick recognition -of every worthy trait of temperament -or habit; taking in the sorrows of others with -sincere sympathy; tactful in dealing with -weakness or defect; tolerant of differing belief -or profession; fearless of adverse expression or -hostile force,—he went straightforward in his -work. He was appreciated. Most of those -he dealt with were in one way or another seafaring -men; builders and owners, masters and -sailors of ships; men of wide experience, who -had seen the world, who had endured hardships, -who had well carried great responsibilities; -the women, too, accustomed to enlarging -thoughts and sympathies.</p> - -<p>These were a people worthy of such a man -as he was of them. His sound instruction -and faithful exhortation impressed such minds. -Strong doctrine, largely on the lines of the -old Pilgrim faith, propounded, pondered, and -at least respected, meets and makes such -characters. The untiring effort to apply these -principles in the practice of daily living, -instilling these elements into the springs of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> -action and fibre of character, inculcating the -test of right and sense of honor for the rule of -social intercourse and endeavor,—out of all -this comes a mighty result in the course of -years. For three generations in that steadfast -old town he stood at the gates of life. -Birth, baptism, marriage, and the passing over -we call death,—none of these was held quite -acceptable to God, or blessed to the full for -any, unless Elijah Kellogg were the usher. -To the last days of his life, he was summoned -from near and far by descendants of these -families to perpetuate by this token the covenant -of the inherited blessing. His influence -is still powerful in the sterling character of -that community, of which it is not too much -to say that it is typical of the best American -citizenship.</p> - -<p>One interesting custom kept up to the last -was that time of all good gifts and greetings,—the -annual “donation party,” or reception, for -Mr. Kellogg, at that home of ample welcome, -dear “Aunt Betsy” Alexander’s, his oldest -and nearest neighbor. What gatherings were -there! What types of strength and beauty! -What harmonious contrasts and balancing of -youth and age, of soberness and mirth, of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> -brooding memories and forward-looking, untested -promise! And all owing so much of -their worth to this one man.</p> - -<p>In his latter years Mr. Kellogg was more -an object of interest than ever. The inroads -of advancing age did not reach his mind and -spirit. He stood up in his old church and -gave strong sermons,—some of them quite -likely the same as had been given to other -generations, but equally applicable and wholesome -now. People came long distances to see -and hear him. Summer visitors at neighboring -resorts kept the circle of admirers undiminished -and filled the church on Sundays.</p> - -<p>He was often sought for to go elsewhere for -one more greeting. At the great meeting of -the graduates at the centennial of the college, -he was entreated to be one of the announced -speakers. His modesty and real diffidence -would not allow him to assent. But, as might -be expected, he was sought out in some of his -old haunts within the grounds, and brought -in by acclamation. His was the best speech -among them all, which bore hearts away to -the unseen bonds of fellowship and the continuity -of college life and power.</p> - -<p>In the very closing days of his activity—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> -in the mingling of the twilight and the dawn—he -was persuaded to address a meeting of -friends from neighboring towns held in the -spacious auditorium in Merrymeeting Park, by -the riverside in Brunswick. Over against the -solid physical force of the vast assembly he -stood with the aspect of an already disembodied -spirit; but in clear tones, as of a voice from -heaven, he delivered his message, in that -marvellous, all-entreating discourse, “The -Prodigal Son.” Those of us who stood near, -almost dreading lest the winged words should -bear him away, saw by the gleam of his eye -what joy it was to that great heart of faith, -and hope, and love, that his last commission -might be to point out the way by which the -wilful, unworthy wanderer, with belated penitence, -might find the Father’s House.</p> - -<p>It does not seem quite natural to close -these reminiscences without expressing thankfulness -that the last decade of years brought -the long-cherished friendship within even -closer bounds. With a summer home on the -site of one of the great old shipyards came -the good fortune of becoming one of Mr. -Kellogg’s nearest neighbors. After life’s toil -and trial, its strifes and storms and perils, we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> -sat down within hailing distance on shores -sloping toward each other, looking over quiet -waters. It was a time of boats again; and -their message was still of glad tidings. It -seemed but an easy row across the mile of -bay, with him on the other shore. Thus was -more than renewed the old habit of hospitalities -and symposiums. The dreams of youth -had been interpreted; its faiths tested; its -hopes and fears overpassed; only its heart -unchanged. We knew what we were talking -about now; and there was much to say. On -Sundays we walked together the well-worn -paths to his familiar church with boyish -embrace, caring not if any thought it strange. -Then, too, meeting at the bankside of dear -friends departed, with his words the last of -earth.</p> - -<p>Now the black spruces stand in mourning; -but our hearts go on with him. His boat is -still on the sloping shore, pointing seaward; -so does his cherished spirit help to bear us -over.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" ><a id="p188"></a> -<img src="images/p188.jpg" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Casco Bay as seen near the Kellogg Homestead, Harpswell, Maine.</span></div> -</div> - -<p>Through nearly threescore years what -blessed work was his! And his reward is not -wholly on high, although it will be so in the -consummation. But here and now and in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> -years to come is a great part of it, in living -power in the hearts and souls of men and -women walking worthily in this world, letting -their light also shine to illumine the path for -others still. Who can estimate the value, the -power, the reach, of a work like this? Faithful -friends are earnest now to set up a monument -to mark the place of his forth-giving -and to keep the memory of him fresh; but -the whole world is not too wide to look for -the place of his power, and the memory of -him belongs to the eternities.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="A_TRIBUTE" id="A_TRIBUTE"></a>A TRIBUTE</h2> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Abiel Holmes Wright</span></p> - -<blockquote> - -<p>[On Tuesday, March 19, 1901, funeral services for Mr. -Kellogg were held at the Harpswell church. At these services -Professor Henry L. Chapman officiated, and spoke to -the Harpswell people of the work and character of their -beloved pastor. A choir of Bowdoin College students, -members of the Alpha Delta Phi fraternity, sang appropriate -hymns. On the next day services were held in the -Second Parish church of Portland at which Rev. Abiel H. -Wright, pastor of the St. Lawrence Street church and an -intimate friend of Mr. Kellogg, delivered the following -tribute, and Rev. Dr. George Lewis of South Berwick offered -prayer. The burial was in the Western Cemetery, Portland, -where are buried Mr. Kellogg’s wife and father and mother.]</p></blockquote> - - -<p>In one of the pastoral psalms God’s thought -and feeling concerning the death of his consecrated -servants find this expression, “Precious -in the sight of the Lord is the death of -His Saints.” When the aged saint comes -home from the toil and trouble of his earth-time -services, there is joy in the heart of the -Eternal Father. Angels rejoice when one -sinner repenteth and the life of faith is begun<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> -on earth, but when the sinner becomes a saint -and the long weary trial-way is trodden -through to its end, when, as the Lord sees, -His servant’s work is done, and he is received -on high into the saints’ everlasting rest, then -indeed the death of His saint is precious in -His sight.</p> - -<p>Fifty-seven years ago Elijah Kellogg began -his life ministry as a preacher of the Gospel -in the humble village of Harpswell Centre, -where a few days past it was ended. What -minister of Maine has ever been more widely -known and loved by its people than was this -saintly and revered preacher? As a young -man of thirty years but recently from Andover -Theological Seminary, he began his -ministry among the Harpswell people; as an -aged saint of God, nearly eighty-eight years -old, known and loved far and wide in our -land, he closed that ministry in his death, -among the people he had seen grow up from -childhood to declining age. He had baptized -the children of those who were his first parishioners. -He had buried the parents and in -many instances the grandparents of those who -loved, revered, and supported him during the -last years of his laborious ministry.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> - -<p>If we ask why he remained among them, -when called to other and more inviting fields -of labor; why, when this honored Second -Parish invited him to its pastorate in the time -of its strength and prime, he declined to leave -the little country church of forty or fifty -members, the answer is, because he loved the -Harpswell people. They were his first love, -and they were his last love. Highly privileged -people! God-blessed church! To have -had this holy man of God living among them, -passing by them continually, speaking God’s -truth to them, serving them in their homes, -their fields, their boats, their sanctuary, in the -Christ-spirit of devotion, and living out his -rich, fruitful life of faith among them to its -end, content and satisfied to have their love and -gratitude, and with his dying breath speaking -his last loving benediction upon them every -one. It has been a beautiful life of service,—a -noble ministry for God and humanity.</p> - -<p>We have often wondered what Elijah Kellogg -would have been had he chosen to take -his father’s pulpit, and the position and the -prominence which it would have given him in -our city and throughout our state. It might -possibly have made of him a grander preacher<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> -than he was—and few are the preachers that -ever came to Portland pulpits who drew larger -or more satisfied congregations than did he; -it might have made of him a more influential -clergyman in our state than he was. -But who will say he could have developed a -grander character or won a fairer fame than -now belong to him?</p> - -<p>Elijah Kellogg was a man of deep and fervid -piety—a man of prayer. There are guest -chambers in our city where his voice has been -heard in prayer for hours at a time, the memory -of which is a benediction. There is a -chamber on Munjoy Hill, in which I have -often slept, which Elijah Kellogg frequently -occupied as the guest of one of his former -Harpswell families. In that chamber he -wrote parts of many of his surpassing juvenile -stories, and there he prayed often and long.</p> - -<p>Being a man of prayer, it was his wish and -will to abide where God would have him. It -was God’s will that of the fifty-eight years of -his ministry, the Harpswell people should -have his service nearly all of the time for -forty-three years, and part of the time each of -the remaining fifteen years. During the ten -years he was minister of the Seaman’s Bethel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> -in Boston, as chaplain of the Seaman’s Friend -society, he spent his summer in his Harpswell -home, preaching and ministering to the -people. Counting out the five years of his -Topsham pastorate, we may say that his -connection with the church of Harpswell -Centre was practically unbroken for fifty-three -years, and during his pastorate in Topsham -he continued to dwell in his Harpswell home.</p> - -<p>His work in Boston brought out one -prominent characteristic of his ministry: his -interest in and love of young men. Elijah -Kellogg was every man’s friend, but he was -preëminently the friend and helper of young -men. As he delighted to write books for -boys, which helped them to become right-minded -and true-hearted young men, so he -aimed in preaching and by personal effort to -reach and save young men. He did so conspicuously -in Boston. At the time when Dr. -Stone was pastor of Park Street Congregational -church, Mr. Kellogg was preaching in -the Mariners’ church of that city. At that -time Dr. Charles G. Finney was at work as a -revivalist with Dr. Stone. Rev. Mr. Kellogg -had been, and was then and subsequently, in -the habit of meeting a class of young men in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> -Dr. Stone’s chapel. From among those young -men he trained Christian workers and led -them down into the slums of the North End -to help him in his work of holding meetings -on the wharves.</p> - -<p>One of those young men I knew years -afterward, who devoted much of his spare -time aiding Elijah Kellogg in his good work -among the tempted classes of the North End. -Two years later that young man came to -Portland to live. He became a worker, then -a member, of the St. Lawrence Street church. -When Mr. Kellogg was back again in Harpswell, -this young man was a prominent merchant -and politician, and a well-known -Christian worker in this city.</p> - -<p>At the dedication of the new St. Lawrence -Congregational church in 1897, Mr. Kellogg -made two memorable addresses, in one of -which he alluded to the lamented Henry H. -Burgess, who had died in 1893, in these -words: “When I was preaching in Boston, -Henry H. Burgess was the bookkeeper for a -paint and oil firm in that city, and a member -of the Park Street Sunday-school. I was -preaching at that church, and saw that the -people were sending out old men to gather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> -the young men into the Sunday-school. I -told them they would never do any good in -that way, and asked them why they did not -send out young men to do this work. They -said they did not have any young men to do -it, and I said I would get some of them for -the purpose. I preached one sermon, and the -first Sunday after that I walked fifteen young -men into that Sunday-school, with Henry -Burgess at their head, and the next Sunday -in came twenty more, and so on, until finally -the building was crowded to its utmost -capacity, and we had young men to work for -us.</p> - -<p>“When Henry Burgess came to Portland -from Boston, I gave him a letter of introduction -to Dr. Carruthers. He is no longer -here,” continued the aged speaker, while tears -of emotion coursed down his bronzed cheeks, “but though absent in the body, he is rejoicing -here with us in the spirit.”</p> - -<p>They loved each other, this aged minister -and that strong young man, and they were -helpful to each other. They have changed -eyes and clasped hands, now, I believe, in the -eternal home of the saints.</p> - -<p>It was during Mr. Kellogg’s life in Boston,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> -in his home on Pinckney Street, that he wrote -his marvellous books for young people. Is -there here man or woman, young man or -maiden, who has not read them and received -from them moral tone and stamina? Perhaps -it is true to say, and no discredit to Mr. Kellogg -to say, that he was more widely known -as author than as preacher, and that he has -probably done more for the moral health of -American youth by his breezy, fascinating -books than by his work as preacher and pastor. -Yea, he has been a mighty preacher to -young Americans by the eloquence of his -industrious pen.</p> - -<p>It would, I believe, be difficult to find an -author who wrote with a more definite and -practical aim to Christianize young people -than did Elijah Kellogg, or one who had better -success in the attainment of his high and -noble purpose. Mr. Kellogg possessed a genius -for that kind of literary work. That he -had, in early years, the latent art of an accomplished -rhetorician was proved in his student -days, when he wrote and declaimed “Spartacus -to the Gladiators,” while in Andover Theological -Seminary. It is well, doubtless, that -Mr. Kellogg’s literary genius was directed to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> -the humbler, yet more practical and serviceable, -art of writing books for the moral and -religious culture of the young.</p> - -<p>As a preacher Mr. Kellogg was great, both -in the art of making and in the forceful -presentation of the sermon. Rhetorical finish -and enlivening humor were alike natural and -easy to him. I never have heard a preacher -who seemed more thoroughly to enjoy the -effort of preaching, and few preachers excelled -him in the ability to make his audience enjoy -the sermon. How quickly could he change -the amused interest of the congregation in the -play of his humor into serious and solemn -emotion by the power and pathos of his forceful -appeals, applying the teaching of his sermon -to the conscience and the heart.</p> - -<p>He was a man of quick and responsive sympathies. -His whole life was characterized by -the spirit of Christian benevolence. He not -only gave himself to his people to be ever and -always their servant in things spiritual, but as -truly in things temporal. He was their counsellor -and helper in all their heavenly and -earthly concerns. It was the habit of his life -to keep a purse for the Lord, into which went -one-tenth of all moneys received by him.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> -Thus he furnished himself, systematically, -with the means to extend aid to those whose -sufferings appealed to his sympathies. It is -said that he gave beyond his means, and often -to his own embarrassment. His services as -a preacher were in constant demand, from -churches far and near, and he responded when -he could. Not a few churches have been -blessed by his labors, at different intervals, -during his Harpswell pastorate. Here in -Portland he was greatly beloved. For nearly -one year he was the continual supply of the -St. Lawrence Street church, and in the -thought of its older members he is regarded -as one of its pastors. Portland claimed him -as her own. He preached at Cumberland -Mills, at Wellesley, Rockport, and New Bedford, -Massachusetts, and in other places he has -served the church of God. The Congregational -church in New Bedford extended to -him a call, as did this Second Parish. But -he refused all such calls, being unwilling to -make any final severance from his beloved -Harpswell people.</p> - -<p>In 1889, after the close of his Topsham -pastorate, he resumed full pastoral care of the -Harpswell church, which had been served by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> -others during his work elsewhere, and there -he remained until God called him home. It -was a wonder to us all how this venerable -man, with the infirmities of extreme old age -creeping upon him, could still keep on preaching -in his eighty-eighth year, two sermons each -Sunday, and ministering as a pastor to his -flock.</p> - -<p>His last visit to Portland was during “the -Old Home week” in August, 1900. He -opened the festivities of that notable week by -preaching Sunday morning in this Second -Parish church, upon invitation of its pastor, -and preaching again in the evening of that -day at Yarmouth; returning Monday morning -to the residence of his niece in the old -homestead of his honored father, the first -pastor of this Second Parish church, who died -in that historic house on Cumberland Street -in 1842, aged eighty years.</p> - -<p>Elijah Kellogg married, after the age of forty, -Hannah Pomeroy, the daughter of the Rev. -Thaddeus Pomeroy, pastor at Gorham, Maine, -from 1832 to 1839. Two children survive this -union, both residing in Melrose Highlands, -Massachusetts, Frank Gilman Kellogg and -Mary Catherine, the wife of Mr. Harry Batchel<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span>der. -I was called to officiate at the funeral -service of their mother in the Cumberland -home referred to, and rode to the grave with -her sorrowing husband. Returning from the -cemetery, the aged, grief-stricken man, said, “Now I will return to my home to be alone -with my God.” His words have been living -in my memory ever since. They implied that -he was sure of finding the God of all comfort -in that secluded and desolated home on Harpswell’s -shore. Who doubts but the God we -love dwelt there with his aged servant, -strengthening and supporting him in his loneliness -and sorrow?</p> - -<p>His children desired greatly to have their -father with them in their pleasant homes, but -he chose to dwell among the people whom -God gave him to serve unto the end. “I will -die in the harness,” he would say, in answer to -their appeals. I have from the lips of his son -the words of the last prayer he was heard to -offer some days before his death. “I thank -God for a Christian mother, who consecrated -me to Christ and the Christian ministry,”—the -prayer was followed by his repeating of the -twenty-third Psalm.... Just before Elijah -Kellogg passed away from earth, he delivered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> -this touching message for his Harpswell flock, “I want to send my love to all these people.” -Having loved his own, like his dear Lord, he -loved them unto the end. Yesterday the -message was delivered to them by Professor -Chapman in his funeral discourse. The very -last words of this venerable man of God, this -faithful shepherd of God’s people, were, “I -am so thankful.”</p> - -<p>Let us not attempt to interpret the words; -they teach us that his Christian heart was -overflowing with gratitude to God. He was -dying in a good old age, his children around -him, his people near him. He was gathered -to his fathers after a long, faithful, heroic, -and noble life. He leaves with us a most -precious and a most blessed memory. Our -hearts, too, are full of gratitude to God for -the life of Elijah Kellogg on earth.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" ><a id="p202"></a> -<img src="images/p202.jpg" alt="" /> -</div> - -<div class="center small"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<col width="50%" /><col width="50%" /> -<tr><td align="center"><span class="smcap">Frank Gilman Kellogg.</span></td><td align="center"><span class="smcap">Mrs. Mary Kellogg Batchelder and Baby Eleanor Batchelder.</span></td></tr> -<tr><td align="center">Son of Elijah Kellogg.</td><td align="center">Daughter and granddaughter of Elijah Kellogg.</td></tr> -</table></div> - - - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span></p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a><br /><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="DECLAMATIONS" id="DECLAMATIONS"></a>DECLAMATIONS</h2> - - -<h3><a id="SPARTACUS_TO_THE_GLADIATORS"></a>SPARTACUS TO THE GLADIATORS</h3> - - -<p>It had been a day of triumph in Capua. -Lentulus, returning with victorious eagles, had -amused the populace with the sports of the -amphitheatre to an extent hitherto unknown -even in that luxurious city. The shouts of -revelry had died away; the roar of the lion -had ceased; the last loiterer had retired from -the banquet; and the lights in the palace of -the victor were extinguished. The moon, -piercing the tissue of fleecy clouds, silvered -the dewdrop on the corselet of the Roman -sentinel, and tipped the dark waters of Volturnus -with wavy, tremulous light. It was -a night of holy calm, when the zephyr sways -the young spring leaves, and whispers among -the hollow reeds its dreamy music. No sound -was heard but the last sob of some weary -wave, telling its story to the smooth pebbles -of the beach, and then all was still as the -breast when the spirit has departed.</p> - -<p>In the deep recesses of the amphitheatre a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> -band of gladiators were crowded together,—their -muscles still knotted with the agony of -conflict, the foam upon their lips, and the -scowl of battle yet lingering upon their brows,—when -Spartacus, rising in the midst of that -grim assemblage, thus addressed them:—</p> - -<p>“Ye call me chief, and ye do well to call -him chief who, for twelve long years, has met -upon the arena every shape of man or beast -that the broad Empire of Rome could furnish, -and has never yet lowered his arm. And if -there be one among you who can say that, -ever, in public fight or private brawl, my -actions did belie my tongue, let him step -forth and say it. If there be three in all your -throng dare face me on the bloody sand, let -them come on!</p> - -<p>“Yet I was not always thus, a hired butcher, -a savage chief of still more savage men. My -father was a reverent man, who feared great -Jupiter, and brought to the rural deities his -offerings of fruits and flowers. He dwelt -among the vineclad rocks and olive groves -at the foot of Helicon. My early life ran -quiet as the brook by which I sported. I -was taught to prune the vine, to tend the -flock; and, at noon, I gathered my sheep<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> -beneath the shade, and played upon the shepherd’s -flute. I had a friend, the son of our -neighbor; we led our flocks to the same pasture, -and shared together our rustic meal.<br /> -<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">“One evening, after the sheep were folded,</span><br /> -and we were all seated beneath the myrtle -that shaded our cottage, my grandsire, an old -man, was telling of Marathon and Leuctra, -and how, in ancient times, a little band of -Spartans, in a defile of the mountains, withstood -a whole army. I did not then know -what war meant; but my cheeks burned, I -knew not why; and I clasped the knees of -that venerable man, till my mother, parting -the hair from off my brow, kissed my throbbing -temples, and bade me go to rest and -think no more of those old tales and savage -wars. And, methinks, if I could look on something -other than warrior’s harness and the -blinding glare of burnished steel, and hear -some other sound than death groans and armor -clangs, could I but lay these throbbing -temples upon the soft green turf beside my -native brook, and let my hand hang over the -bank into its blessed current, and feel the -broad sweep of its waters, while the leaves -danced over me, methinks that I could heave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> -this cursed crust from off my heart and be -again a child. Yes, a child, a child! But -what have I to do with thoughts like these? -I do forget my story.</p> - -<p>“That very night the Romans landed on -our shore, and the clash of steel was heard -within our quiet vale. I saw the breast that -had nourished me trampled by the iron hoof of -the war-horse; the bleeding body of my father -flung amid the blazing rafters of our dwelling. -To-day I killed a man in the arena, and when -I broke his helmet-clasps, behold! he was my -friend! He knew me,—smiled faintly,—gasped,—and -died; the same sweet smile -that I had marked upon his face when, in -adventurous boyhood, we scaled some lofty -cliff to pluck the first ripe grapes, and bear -them home in childish triumph. I told the -prætor he was my friend, noble and brave, -and I begged his body, that I might burn it -upon the funeral-pile, and mourn over his -ashes. Ay, on my knees, amid the dust and -blood of the arena, I begged that boon, while -all the Roman maids and matrons, and those -holy virgins they call vestal, and the rabble, -shouted in mockery, deeming it rare sport, forsooth, -to see Rome’s fiercest gladiator turn pale,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> -and tremble like a very child before that piece -of bleeding clay; but the prætor drew back as -if I were pollution, and sternly said: ’Let the -carrion rot! There are no noble men but -Romans!’ And he, deprived of funeral rites, -must wander, a hapless ghost, beside the -waters of that sluggish river, and look—and -look—and look in vain to the bright Elysian -Fields where dwell his ancestors and noble -kindred. And so must you, and so must I, -die like dogs!</p> - -<p>“O Rome! Rome! thou hast been a tender -nurse to me! Ay, thou hast given to that -poor, gentle, timid shepherd-lad, who never -knew a harsher sound than a flute-note, -muscles of iron and a heart of flint; taught -him to drive the sword through rugged brass -and plaited mail, and warm it in the marrow -of his foe! to gaze into the glaring eyeballs -of the fierce Numidian lion, even as a smooth-cheeked -boy upon a laughing girl. And he -shall pay thee back till thy yellow Tiber is -red as frothing wine, and in its deepest ooze -thy lifeblood lies curdled!</p> - -<p>“Ye stand here now like giants, as ye are! -The strength of brass as in your toughened -sinews; but to-morrow some Roman Adonis,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> -breathing sweet odors from his curly locks, -shall come, and with his lily fingers pat your -brawny shoulders, and bet his sesterces upon -your blood! Hark! Hear ye yon lion roaring -in his den? ’Tis three days since he tasted -meat; but to-morrow he shall break his fast -upon your flesh; and ye shall be a dainty meal -for him.</p> - -<p>“If ye are brutes, then stand here like fat -oxen waiting for the butcher’s knife; if ye -are men, follow me! strike down yon sentinel, -and gain the mountain-passes, and there do -bloody work as did your sires at old Thermopylæ! -Is Sparta dead? Is the old Grecian -spirit frozen in your veins, that ye do crouch -and cower like base-born slaves beneath your -master’s lash? O comrades! warriors! Thracians! -if we must fight, let us fight for ourselves; -if we must slaughter, let us slaughter -our oppressors; if we must die, let us die -under the open sky, by the bright waters, in -noble, honorable battle.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="REGULUS_TO_THE_CARTHAGINIANS" id="REGULUS_TO_THE_CARTHAGINIANS"></a>REGULUS TO THE CARTHAGINIANS</h3> - - -<p>The beams of the rising sun had gilded the -lofty domes of Carthage, and given, with its -rich and mellow light, a tinge of beauty even -to the frowning ramparts of the outer harbor. -Sheltered by the verdant shores, an hundred -triremes were riding proudly at their anchors, -their brazen beaks glittering in the sun, their -streamers dancing in the morning breeze, while -many a shattered plank and timber gave evidence -of desperate conflict with the fleets of -Rome.</p> - -<p>No murmur of business or of revelry arose -from the city. The artisan had forsaken his -shop, the judge his tribunal, the priest the -sanctuary, and even the stern stoic had come -forth from his retirement to mingle with the -crowd that, anxious and agitated, were rushing -toward the senate house, startled by the -report that Regulus had returned to Carthage.</p> - -<p>Onward, still onward, trampling each other<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> -under foot, they rushed, furious with anger -and eager for revenge. Fathers were there -whose sons were groaning in Roman fetters; -maidens whose lovers, weak and wounded, -were dying in the distant dungeons of Rome; -and gray-haired men and matrons whom -Roman steel had left childless.</p> - -<p>But when the stern features of Regulus were -seen, and his colossal form towering above the -ambassadors who had returned with him from -Rome; when the news passed from lip to lip -that the dreaded warrior, so far from advising -the Roman senate to consent to an exchange -of prisoners, had urged them to pursue, with -exterminating vengeance, Carthage and the -Carthaginians,—the multitude swayed to and -fro like a forest beneath a tempest, and the -rage and hate of that tumultuous throng vented -itself in groans, and curses, and yells of vengeance. -But calm, cold, and immovable as the -marble walls around him, stood Regulus the -Roman; and he stretched out his hand over -that frenzied crowd, with gesture as proudly -commanding as though he still stood at the -head of the gleaming cohorts of Rome.</p> - -<p>The tumult ceased; the curse, half muttered, -died upon the lip; and so intense was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> -the silence that the clanking of the brazen -manacles upon the wrists of the captive fell -sharp and full upon every ear in that vast -assembly, as he thus addressed them:—</p> - -<p>“Ye doubtless thought—for ye judge of -Roman virtue by your own—that I would -break my plighted oath, rather than, returning, -brook your vengeance. I might give reasons -for this, in Punic comprehension, most -foolish act of mine. I might speak of those -eternal principles which make death for one’s -country a pleasure, not a pain. But, by great -Jupiter! methinks I should debase myself to -talk of such high things to you; to you, expert -in womanly inventions; to you, well skilled -to drive a treacherous trade with simple Africans -for ivory and gold! If the bright blood -that fills my veins, transmitted free from godlike -ancestry, were like that slimy ooze which -stagnates in your arteries, I had remained at -home and broken my plighted oath to save my -life.</p> - -<p>“I am a Roman citizen; therefore have I -returned, that ye might work your will upon -this mass of flesh and bones which I esteem -no higher than the rags that cover them. -Here, in your capital, do I defy you. Have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> -I not conquered your armies, fired your towns, -and dragged your generals at my chariot -wheels, since first my youthful arms could -wield a spear? And do you think to see me -crouch and cower before a tamed and shattered -senate? The tearing of flesh and the -rending of sinews are but pastime compared -with the mental agony that heaves my -frame.</p> - -<p>“The moon has scarce yet waned since the -proudest of Rome’s proud matrons, the mother -upon whose breast I slept, and whose fair -brow so oft had bent over me before the -noise of battle had stirred my blood, or the -fierce toil of war nerved my sinews, did with -the fondest memory of bygone hours entreat -me to remain. I have seen her, who, when -my country called me to the field, did buckle -on my harness with trembling hands, while -the tears fell thick and fast down the hard -corselet scales,—I have seen her tear her gray -locks and beat her aged breast, as on her -knees she begged me not to return to Carthage; -and all the assembled senate of Rome, -grave and reverend men, proffered the same -request. The puny torments which ye have -in store to welcome me withal shall be, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> -what I have endured, even as the murmur of -a summer’s brook to the fierce roar of angry -surges on a rocky beach.</p> - -<p>“Last night, as I lay fettered in my dungeon, -I heard a strange ominous sound; it seemed -like the distant march of some vast army, -their harness clanging as they marched, when -suddenly there stood by me Xanthippus, the -Spartan general, by whose aid you conquered -me, and, with a voice low as when the solemn -wind moans through the leafless forest, he -thus addressed me: ’Roman, I come to bid -thee curse, with thy dying breath, this fated -city; know that in an evil moment, the -Carthaginian generals, furious with rage that I -had conquered thee, their conqueror, did basely -murder me. And then they thought to stain -my brightest honor. But, for this foul deed, -the wrath of Jove shall rest upon them here -and hereafter.’ And then he vanished.</p> - -<p>“And now, go bring your sharpest torments. -The woes I see impending over this guilty -realm shall be enough to sweeten death, -though every nerve and artery were a shooting -pang. I die! but my death shall prove a -proud triumph; and, for every drop of blood -ye from my veins do draw, your own shall<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> -flow in rivers. Woe to thee, Carthage! Woe -to the proud city of the waters! I see thy -nobles wailing at the feet of Roman senators! -thy citizens in terror! thy ships in flames! I -hear the victorious shouts of Rome! I see -her eagles glittering on her ramparts. Proud -city, thou art doomed! The curse of Jove -is on thee—a clinging, wasting curse. It -shall not leave thy gates till hungry flames -shall lick the fretted gold from off thy proud -palaces, and every brook runs crimson to the -sea.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="HANNIBAL_AT_THE_ALTAR" id="HANNIBAL_AT_THE_ALTAR"></a>HANNIBAL AT THE ALTAR</h3> - - -<p>The last rays of the setting sun lingered on -the towers of Carthage, and tinged with a -warm flush the snowy crests of the waves that -flung their gray foam to its very ramparts. -Laughing maidens, bearing their pitchers from -the fountains, assembled at the gates; tired -camels that all day long had borne from -distant and tributary realms vestments of -purple, fragrant gums, and dust of gold, -released from their burdens, were feeding -beneath the walls; while from the deck of -many a galley the slave’s rude song floated on -the evening air.</p> - -<p>In a quiet vale, secluded, yet not distant -from the city, beneath the shadow of a palm, -reclines a lovely woman; the low-voiced summer -wind, stirring the citron groves, has lulled -her to rest. The ripe grapes from a pendent -vine almost touch her swelling breast. The -spray of a neighboring fountain falls in minute -drops, like tears of pearl, on her cheek, while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> -a beautiful boy, tired with play, has nestled -to her side, half hidden by her flowing -locks.</p> - -<p>Hurried footsteps are heard in the distance, -a heavy hand puts aside the branches, and -Hamilcar, the chieftain of the Carthaginian -armies, stands beneath the shadow of the -palm; as he bends forward to look upon his -slumbering wife, a ripe grape, shaken by the -plume of his helmet from the cluster, falls -upon the face of the sleeper, and she awakes. -Bright tears of pride and joy glitter in her -dark eyes, as, seated at his feet among the -flowers, her white arm flung in careless happiness -across his sinewy knees and throbbing -in his gauntleted grasp, she gazes on the -towering form and noble brow on which the -stern traces of recent conflict still linger. -Tempests have bronzed his cheek, desperate -and bloody conflicts left their scars upon him; -yet is he not less dear to her than when in joy -of youth they crowned the altars of the gods -with flowers, sporting among the sheaves at -harvest home. Thus she speaks:—</p> - -<p>“My lord, is it disaster or business of the -State that brings you here? Your eye is -troubled, and these iron fingers too rudely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> -press my flesh, as though your thoughts were -dark and fraught with doubt or danger.”</p> - -<p>“I have left the camp to make good a purpose -long since known to thee, to devote with -sacred rites this boy at the altar of Mars, and -pledge him to eternal enmity with Rome.”</p> - -<p>“Is this the weighty business which brings -thee at this twilight and unaccustomed hour, -thine armor soiled with dust, thy brow with -sweat, in such fierce haste to pluck this fair -child from his mother’s breast, and train him -up to slaughter? Strange that this great -empire, so full of men and arms and fleets -of war, should need the arm of childhood to -protect it. Stern man, thou lovest me not.”</p> - -<p>“Why question thus my love? For as this -breastplate does my heart defend, so have I -cherished and protected thee, while in thy -fragile beauty thou hast clung around the -warrior’s stubborn strength, even as that -wreathing vine doth yonder citron clasp, -adorning its protector; but little dost thou -know, fair wife, of the affairs of nations and -of camps. Beneath these shades where the -cool zephyr from Trinacrian hills breathes -through spicy groves thou hast reposed; no -tear has stained thy cheek except the foun<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span>tain’s -pearly drops that glistened there when -I thy sleep disturbed.</p> - -<p>“Not thus my path has lain; too well I -know the Roman’s iron strength; in times -of truce and intervals of conflict I have seen -his daily life and marked his customs well. -Poverty, at Carthage a disgrace, he but rejoices -in. The water of the brook to quench -his thirst, the dry leaves for his bed, and bread -of simplest preparation supply his wants. -Then, as the fierce she-wolf whose dugs -nourished his ancestors doth raven for her -whelps, so goes he forth to plunder and to -prey among the nations, and, for the sake of -stealing that which stolen is not worth the -keeping, will life and fortune set upon a cast. -Show to a Roman senate some patch of sand -within mid-Africa, some waste of Alpine -rocks, white with eternal snows, where, -famished peasants watch their starving flocks -and wrestle with the avalanche for life; did -Phlegethon with all his burning waves the -wretched pittance guard, and fierce Eumenides -beleaguer all the shore, yet would a -Roman consul dare the flood, do battle with -the lion for his sands, and slay the shivering -goatherd for his rocks.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The Romans turn their greedy eyes toward -these fair realms; they seek to lay in ashes -these ancestral towers, where whatsoever piety -reveres, memory recalls, or old affection cherishes, -is garnered and bestowed, nor will they -pause till every wave of this encircling sea, -crimsoned with the gore of matrons, of aged -men, and even of the laughing and unconscious -babe, shall roll its bloody burden to the shore.</p> - -<p>“Most unequal is the conflict. The men -who reared these towers and moistened with -their blood these battlements are not; in their -stead has come a race of petty shopkeepers -and sycophants, having no inner life, no -haughty purpose or generous resolve, no -strength to keep what their forefathers won. -The streets are thronged with youths whose -dainty limbs are clad in flowing and embroidered -robes, whose jewelled fingers are skilful -to touch the lyre, but not to press the war-horse -through ranks of thronging spearmen, -to draw the Numidian arrow to the head, -and dip its thirsty point in hostile blood. -The rest are veterans gray with years, and -most unfit for service, like the shepherd’s -dog that, stiff with age and pampered with -good living, erects his hair and shows his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> -toothless jaws, making in vain a noble front -before the gaunt and wiry wolf.</p> - -<p>“Our only hope is in the legions I have -drawn from Spain, and trained in foreign -wars to conflict. But my step, once lighter -than the brindled tigers on the Libyan sands, -grows heavy with weight of years and hardships. -Were I to fall, armies would lack a -leader, my country one who loves her better -than himself, or wife, or child. But the blood -that mantles in this boy’s cheek is that of -heroes; thine ancestors and mine were chieftains -of the olden time; and when the lion -shall breed sheep will I believe that any of -our race and lineage can ever fail their country -in her hour of need. Therefore, despite -thy tears, mine own affection, and his tender -age, from off thy bosom will I take this child -and as the lion brings his whelps afield with -claws half-grown and trains them on the -hunters, so will I him. It is not what we -choose, but what our country needs, and sacred -liberty requires, that we must do, though in -the conflict our own heartstrings break. He -shall be the enemy of Rome in soul and body -and in secret thought. He shall not feed on -dainties and sleep on Tyrian purple till he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> -becomes the object of men’s sneers. The panther’s -shaggy hide, the forest leaves, the dry -bed of some mountain brook, shall be his -couch, while on my corselet scales his cheek -shall rest,—the soldier’s iron pillow; and -when with growing strength and hardihood -his bones endure the harness, behind his -father’s buckler he shall learn to fight and -bathe his maiden sword in blood.”</p> - -<p>At the altar of Mars, surrounded by a vast -throng of citizens, soldiery, and chief estates -of the realm, stands Hamilcar; his helmet -down conceals his features from the crowd. -On the opposite side of the altar are his wife -and her maidens; at his side the child. Placing -his little fingers on the yet quivering flesh -of the victim, he said: “Hannibal, son of -Hamilcar, swear, by this consecrated blood, -and in the presence of that dread God of battles -on whose altar it smokes, that you will -neither love nor make peace with any of -Roman blood; should fortune, friends, and -weapons fail, you will still live and die the -inexorable enemy of Rome.”</p> - -<p>As he paused, the clear tones of that childish -voice, answering, “I swear,” rose upon a -stillness so deep that the low crackling of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> -flames that fed the altar-fires were distinctly -audible.</p> - -<p>It was broken by one wild shriek of agony, -as the frantic mother fell fainting into the -arms of her maidens.</p> - -<p>The stern chieftain spake not, but, as he -stooped to raise the child, a single tear, falling -between the bars of his helmet upon the -upturned face of the wondering boy, told of -the agony within.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="PERICLES_TO_THE_PEOPLE" id="PERICLES_TO_THE_PEOPLE"></a>PERICLES TO THE PEOPLE</h3> - - -<p>Imagine yourself at Athens, among that -strange people of feverish blood, who deify -to-day the man they slaughtered but yesterday. -The voice of the herald proclaims that -Pericles is to be arraigned before the tribunal -of the people. Borne along by the crowd, -you enter the hall of justice. Not a sword -rattles in its scabbard; not a mailed foot rings -on the marble floor; one deep, intense, ominous -silence pervades that dangerous assembly, -as Pericles, rising, thus addresses them:—</p> - -<p>“Ye men of Athens, I come not here to -plead for life, though it be spent in exile; to -entreat for a breath, though it be drawn in -the damps of a dungeon; but to refute a vile -slander; to show that he who invents and -propagates a falsehood, like Sisyphus, rolls -a stone to return and crush him. Cratinus -accuses me of having embezzled the money -raised for the defence of Greece, and of having -expended it in adorning the city of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> -Athens, as a proud and vain woman decketh -herself with jewels.</p> - -<p>“Have I not defended Greece, while Sparta -and the allies were reposing in comfort by -their own firesides? He avers that I was -often at the house of Phidias to admire his -statues, but insinuates that I had a softer -motive. Suppose I had; rather let him show -in what I have betrayed my country, when I -have oppressed the poor, polluted myself with -bribes, or turned back in the hour of battle. -He accuses me of sacrificing the lives of brave -men to my vaulting ambition, and even affects -to shed tears over those who fell, in the flower -of their youth, at Samos.</p> - -<p>“Sacrificing! Were they machines to move -at my bidding? bullocks to be dragged up -and offered at the altar of Mars? Were they -Persian mercenaries, to be driven with whips -to the conflict? or were they patriots defending -their firesides, and I their elder brother? -They were the descendants of those who fell -at Marathon,—men whose youthful locks had -been worn off by the helmet, and whose fingers -grew to the sword-hilt.</p> - -<p>“The parents of those brave men did not, -with reddening cheeks, behold them lying on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> -some feverish couch, like a sick girl, crying -for cooling drinks; but they died with their -wounds in front, the broken sword in their -hand, and the shout of victory ringing in -their ears. Oh, yes! one hour of glorious -conflict—when the blood leaps and the muscles -rally for the mastery, when the hero’s -soul wings its way through gaping wounds to -Elysium—is worth a whole eternity of sitting -in senates and dull debates, and private -bickerings, and tame, common life.</p> - -<p>“One day, as we were making forced marches -across the isthmus in pursuit of the Lacedæmonians, -a woman, following the camp as a -sutler, with a child at her breast, fell and -expired from fatigue. A soldier raised a -spear to despatch the infant. Moved with -compassion, I struck down his weapon; for -I thought of my own little ones at home, -whose kisses were scarcely yet cold on my -lips, and even in the confusion of pursuit, I -provided him with a nurse.</p> - -<p>“On my return, he accompanied me, grew up -with my children, fed at my table, slept in my -tent, and fought behind my shield. As a -reward for life, education, and a thousand -anxious cares incurred, he has now, by false<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> -accusation, summoned me to the tribunal of -my country, to plead for that life which has -ever been held cheap in her service. What -shall be done with such a wretch? I hear -you exclaim: ’Send for the executioner! -burn him to ashes! fling him from the -Acropolis!’</p> - -<p>“Cratinus, thou art that wretch; and yet -methinks thou hast not altogether the noble -bearing of the patriot who rejoices that he -has been able to bring to justice the betrayer -of his country; but thou hast rather the look -of some timid shepherd, who, in chasing the -stag, and pursuing the goat, has, all unwittingly, -stumbled upon the lair of the lion, and, -too terrified to flee, stands shivering before -the glaring eyeball of the tawny brute.</p> - -<p>“Thou small thing, I will not hurt thee; for, -in the proud consciousness of right, I could -even pity thee. And, when again thou liest -among the slain at Megara, thy helmet cleft, -the lance of the enemy at thy throat, and -thou with not strength enough to parry it, -then call for Pericles, and he will <i>again</i> come -to thy rescue. Farewell, thou grateful child! -thou faithful friend! thou manly enemy!”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> - -</div><div class="chapter"> - - -<h3><a name="ICILIUS" id="ICILIUS"></a>ICILIUS</h3> - - -<p>The intolerable oppression of the patricians, -to which was now added the tyranny of the -Decemvirs, had excited a spirit of rancor in -the breasts of the Roman commons, which -was gradually extending itself to the entire -army that now lay encamped in a strong position -within sight of the enemy. But so sullen -was their temper that the generals feared to -lead them from their intrenchments, and the -only barrier to open mutiny seemed to be the -absence of special provocation, or the lack of -a leader.</p> - -<p>Upon the slopes of Crustumeria hung the -dark masses of the Roman legions, while the -watch-fires of their enemy, gleaming through -heavy masses of foliage, lit up the vales -below. But the haughty joy with which -these stern warriors were wont to hail the -hour of conflict no longer thrilled the soldiers’ -breasts. By the dim light of stars men spake -in whispers; and murmurs, waxing louder as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> -the night wore on, like the hollow moan of -surf before the gathering tempest, rose on the -midnight air.</p> - -<p>Just as the red light, touching, tinged the -mountain summits, a warrior, clad in gory -mantle from which the blood, slow dripping, -had stained his armor and clotted upon his -horse’s mane, rode down the sentry, and, -bursting into the midst of the camp, shouted, “Soldiers, protect a tribune of the people!” -Those pregnant words, associated with all of -liberty the commons had ever known, were -to the chafed spirits of the soldiery as fire to -flax. From every quarter of the camp trumpets -sounded to arms, the clash of steel mingled -with the tramp of hurrying feet, and, -marshalled by self-elected commanders, the -gleaming cohorts closed around him. But -when the helmet, lifted, revealed a face of -wondrous beauty, stained by the traces of -recent grief, the eyes flashing with the light -of incipient madness, and they recognized the -features of that tribune most of all beloved -by the people, tears trembled on the cheeks of -that stern soldiery, and, “Icilius!” ran in a -low wail through their ranks.</p> - -<p>“Comrades,” he cried, “you behold no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> -more that young Icilius who, foot to foot and -shield to shield with you, has borne the brunt -of many a bloody day, and whose life was like -a summer’s morning, rich with the fragrance -of the opening buds, while every morn gave -promise of new joys, and twilight hours were -in their lingering glories dressed,—but a man -sore broken, made ruthless by oppression, and -so beset with horrors that this reeling brain, -just tottering on the verge of madness, is -steadied only by the purpose of revenge.</p> - -<p>“Yesterday, Virginia, my betrothed, was by -her father slain, to thwart the lust of Appius -Claudius, a guardian of the public virtue and -a ruler of the State.</p> - -<p>“As she crosses the forum, on her way to -school, that she may take leave of her mates, -and invite them to her bridal, some ruffians set -on by Appius Claudius lay hold upon her, averring -that she is not the daughter of Virginius, -but of a slave-woman, the property of Marcus, -his client. The matter is brought to public -trial; Appius, failing to attain in this manner -the custody of her, that he may gratify his -evil passions, commands his soldiers to take -her by force. Her friends, apprehending no -violence at a legal tribunal, are without arms.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> -Soldiers are tearing her from her father’s embrace, -when the stern parent, preferring death -to dishonor, catches a knife from the butcher’s -stall, and, crying, ’Thus only can I restore -thee untainted to thine ancestors,’ stabs her -to the heart.</p> - -<p>“The purple torrent gushing from her -breast, she falls upon my neck,—her arms -embrace me,—her lips close pressed to mine, -murmuring in death my name, she dies.</p> - -<p>“In childhood we were lovers; from her -father’s door to mine was but a javelin’s cast. -We sought the nests of birds,—played in the -brooks,—chased butterflies—we clapped our -hands in childish wonder when the great -eagle from the Apennines plunged headlong -to the vale, or skimmed with level wing -along the flood,—and I, adventurous boy, -risked life and limb upon the jutting crag, to -pluck some wild flower that her fancy pleased.</p> - -<p>“As generous wine by age becomes more -potent, thus fared it with our loves. For her -I kept myself unstained, rushed to the battle’s -front, and honors gained, that I might lay -them at her feet, and by her love inspired, -press on to worthier deeds. Like flowers -whose kindred roots intwine, whose perfume<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span> -mingles on the morning air, did our affections -blend. ’Twas but three nights ago that we -sat hand in hand beside the Tiber, and listened -to the song of nightingales among the -elms. The purple twilight quivering through -the leaves streamed o’er her brow, and bathed -in heavenly hues her lovely form.</p> - -<p>“There we talked of our approaching nuptials. -Love ripened into rapture. I kissed -her lips, and chid the slow-paced hours that -kept us from our bliss. The marriage day -was fixed. With curtains richly wrought, and -coverings of finest linen, spun by her own -hands and by her maidens’, my mother had -adorned the couch.</p> - -<p>“To that sweet home where I had hoped -through happy years to cherish her a wife, I -bore her mangled corpse, gashed by her father’s -hand. Her blood bedewed the bed decked -with those nuptial gifts.</p> - -<p>“To you, mates of my boyhood, brethren in -battle tried, I stretch my hands; not in the -petty interest of private wrong, but in the -sacred right of Roman liberty, of virgin -purity, sweet household joys, and in the name -of those whose fair forms mingle with your -dreams, in the fierce shock of battle nerve<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> -your arms, the fragrance of whose parting -kiss yet lingers on your lips.</p> - -<p>“The blood of age creeps slowly, and in its -timid counsels interest and fear bear sway. -Shall youthful swords lie rusting in the scabbards, -and young men count the odds, when -slaughtered beauty from its bloody grave -clamors for vengeance?</p> - -<p>“Behold this mantle, drenched in the blood -of her whose fingers wove it as a gift of love,—each -precious drop a tongue to shame your -lingering courage. Led by the father with -his bloody knife, your comrades thunder at -the gates of Rome, while you, unworthy sons -of sires who banished Tarquin and expelled -the kings, sit here deliberating whether the -virgin’s sanctity, the wife’s fair virtue, and -all that men and gods hold sacred, are worth -the striking for. Consume your youth in -hunger, cold, and vigils, with spoils of conquered -realms to pamper tyrants, till, waxing -wanton on your bounty, they desolate your -homes; and ye, hedged in by mercenary -spears, revile your misery.”</p> - -<p>His words were drowned in the clash of -steel and the cries of multitudes calling to -arms. Tearing the bloody garments in pieces,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> -he flung them among the thronging battalions. “Be these your eagles. Bind them to -your helmets; and, in the spirit they inspire, -strike down the oppressor, that sweet Virginia’s -unquiet ghost no more may wander -shrieking for vengeance on the midnight air, -but to the silent shades appeased return.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p> - -</div><div class="chapter"> - - -<h3><a name="DECIUS" id="DECIUS"></a>DECIUS</h3> - - -<p>Patriotism in the Roman breast was something -more than principle; it was a passion. -The sacred fire, so far from being diminished -by age, waxed purer through the decay of the -flesh, and, partaking of the nature of a divine -afflatus, expired only with life itself. After -all reasonable allowances made for the enchantment -which distance flings around the -great of past ages, the instances of devotion -to country, scattered here and there through -the pages of their history, fill us with amazement. -To extend its empire, contribute to its -glory, repel its enemies, no sacrifice was -deemed too great. In common with other -ancient nations they believed that the blood -of a human victim, smoking upon the altar, -was a sacrifice most acceptable to the gods, -and in great emergencies an argument of -wondrous power. It was therefore resorted -to only when the fate of armies and nations -hung trembling in the balance.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p> - -<p>The victims chosen were often aged, useless, -or prisoners taken in war; but when a virgin -in the purity of her innocence and the glory -of her expanding charms, or a man of noble -birth in the prime of manly vigor, with -high hopes and great inducements to live, -voluntarily devoted themselves to die for -the State, victory was considered no longer -doubtful.</p> - -<p>The Roman army being engaged in desperate -conflict, and hard pressed by a valiant foe, -the left wing, under command of Decius, was -forced to retire; their general, determined to -devote himself, arrayed in a mantle broidered -with purple, and standing with bare feet upon -his spear, cried: “Ye gods and heroes who -rule over us and our enemies, and ye infernal -deities whose dwelling is in the shades beneath, -I invoke your presence. I entreat you -to give victory to the Roman armies, and -strike their enemies with fear and death. I -here devote myself to mother earth and the -shades of my ancestors in behalf of the Roman -republic, her legions and auxiliaries, and with -myself I devote the legions and auxiliaries of -the enemy. For every drop of my blood shed -in holy sacrifice grant that theirs may flow in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> -torrents; for my single life, may they atone -by thousands.”</p> - -<p>Putting on his armor and mounting his -horse, he said: “It is well known to you, my -countrymen, that our fathers have taught us -both by their words and acts, that it is the -duty of every citizen to devote himself to the -welfare of his country. They have taught us -during peace to cultivate the soil, to despise -luxury and effeminate pursuits, and, by begetting -and educating children, to strengthen the -State; in war by valor to defend it; nor without -sufficient reason to risk our lives, the -property of our country, bestowed by the -gods. This I have ever striven to do. I am -indeed young to die; age hath not tamed my -sinews, nor misfortune broken my spirits, that -I should be weary of life; fortune thus far -has been friendly to me, reasonable expectations -have been gratified, and efforts crowned -with success. I might justly hope for many -years of usefulness to my country and honor -to myself, but it is now in my power, by -devoting myself, to secure the interposition of -the gods in crowning with victory the banners -of our country and destroying its foes.</p> - -<p>“It would be a solace to me once more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> -to embrace an affectionate wife and dutiful -children, to look again upon the trees I have -planted and watched in their growth till they -have become a part of myself, and upon the -fields from which for so many years I have -raised my bread and that of my family. I -should like to walk over them once more, -but I leave them with all my other affairs to -the care of the State, which I am assured I -shall this day more benefit by death than by -the longest and most prosperous life. To you, -Valerius, I commit the care of interring my -body, that, having received the sacred rites -of burial, I may enter those happy fields, -where dwell the shades of heroes and my -warlike ancestors. I commission you to inform -my wife of the manner of my death, -charging her to educate my sons in a manner -worthy of their father and their ancestors.</p> - -<p>“I pray you, my friends, look not so mournfully -upon me, as though some great misfortune -were about to befall me; for, though I -may no longer lead you to battle, my shade -will be present with you and nerve your arms -to strike for the safety and glory of the Republic. -The spirits of our ancestors hover -around us; I behold their shadowy forms.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> -The immortal gods are present for our aid. -Jove thunders from the sky and Apollo bends -the bow.”</p> - -<p>Followed by the frantic legions assured of -victory, he rushed into the midst of the foe; -they fled in terror before the terrible warrior -armed with supernatural terrors and seeking -only death. The contest ended, the victorious -Romans drew the body of their general -from beneath a heap of slain, contemplating -with emotions of mingled pride and sorrow -the wounds which had let out a spirit so -noble. They cleansed that beloved form from -the stains of battle, arrayed it in gorgeous -robes perfumed with fragrant odors, and reverend -senators bore it to the grave.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="LEONIDAS" id="LEONIDAS"></a>LEONIDAS</h3> - - -<p>It was on the morn of the 7th of August, -480 <span class="smcap">B.C.</span>, that Leonidas, with three hundred -kindred spirits, performed the deed that shall -be transmitted from father to son, through -the generations of men, while human hearts -shall throb with the love of country and of -the domestic hearth. Four days had the -haughty invader lingered at the mountain -pass to afford this desperate band time to -reconsider their act and disperse. Summoned -to lay down their arms, they replied, “Come -and take them.” Vainly had he poured his -thousands upon this devoted band till the -defile was choked with Persian dead. At -length the tidings came that ten thousand -men guided by a traitor were threading the -goat paths to attack their rear. With ample -opportunity to retreat, in obedience to the -laws of their country, which forbade its soldiers -to retreat from the foe, the Spartans, -dismissing their allies, remained to face the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> -storm. Never before or since has law been -thus voluntarily baptized in blood, or the sun -looked down upon a scene like that.</p> - -<p>On one side in solitary grandeur tower the -massive cliffs of Œta, wreathed with the white -foam of torrents, and shaggy with forests bathed -in dew; before stretches the narrow path leading -to a plain, where lie the hosts of Xerxes, -two million men; and on the other, the sea.</p> - -<p>In these rude ages of brawl and battle his -life and liberty alone were safe whose hand -could help his head; thus also in respect to -communities, the nation unable to defend itself -found no allies; to be weak was to be -miserable. The institutions of Lycurgus aimed -to produce the greatest physical strength, contempt -of pain and death, and to inspire an -absorbing love of country. They decreed that -all puny and imperfect children should be put -to death, thus leaving to grow up only the -strongest of the race. All labor was performed -by slaves, that the citizens might be -left at leisure for the study and practice of -arms. The fatigues of their daily life were -greater than those of the camp, and to the -Spartan alone war afforded a relaxation. -Their cities disdained the protection of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> -walls, while they boasted that the women -had never seen the smoke of an enemy’s -camp. From the breast they were taught -that glory and happiness consisted in love -for their country and obedience to its laws. -They were early accustomed to cold, hunger, -and scourgings, in order to teach them endurance -and contempt of pain. No tender parent -wrought with saddened brow their battle robes, -or buckled on with tears their armor; but the -Spartan mother’s farewell to her son was, “Bring back thy shield or be borne upon it.” -Trained in the contests of the gymnasium -and the free life of the hunter and the warrior, -accustomed from childhood to the weight -of harness graduated to their growing strength, -their armor grew to their limbs, and was worn -with a grace and their weapons wielded with -a skill that was instinctive.</p> - -<p>Such were the stern brotherhood, chosen -from a thousand Spartans, all the fathers of -living sons, that others might be left to fill -their places, inherit their spirit, and follow -their example. In those forms so replete -with manly beauty dwelt a spirit more noble -still, which, preferring the toils of liberty to -the ease of servitude, caught from those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> -frowning precipices and that matchless sky, -ever flinging its shadow over sea and shore, -a love for the soil enduring as life itself.</p> - -<p>As the sun arose they bathed their bodies -in water, anointed themselves with oil, and -arranged their hair as for a banquet. “Let -us,” said Leonidas, “breakfast heartily, for -we shall all sup with Pluto to-night.”</p> - -<p>“Comrades,” cried the heroic king, as the -serried ranks gathered around him, “those -whose laws do not forbid them to retreat from -the foe have left us. I welcome you to death; -had not treachery done its work, three hundred -Spartans would have still held at bay -two million slaves. Deem not because we, -trained in all feats of arms, in the full -strength of manhood, perish nor hold the -pass, our country’s gate, we therefore die -for naught. This day shall we do more for -Sparta than could the longest life consumed -in war or councils of the State. As trees that -fall in lonely forests die but to live again, and -with other trees incorporate, lift their proud -tops to heaven, wave in the breeze, and fling -their shadows over the murmuring streams, -thus shall our blood, which ere high noon -shall smoke upon these rocks and stain these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> -fretting waves, beget defenders for the soil it -consecrates. To-day you fight the battles of -a thousand years and teach this vaunting foe -that bodies are not men, that freedom’s laws -are mightier than the knotted scourge or -chains by despots forged. The savor of this -holocaust, borne by the winds and journeying -on the waves, shall nerve the patriot’s arm, -while Pinda rears its awful front, and from -its sacred caves the streams descend. Inspired -by this your act, henceforth five hundred -Spartan men shall count a thousand. -Our countrymen with envy shall view the -gaping wounds through which the hero’s soul -flees to the silent shades, and mourn they were -not privileged with us to die. Our children -shall tread with prouder step their native hills, -while men exclaim each to the other, ’Behold -the sons of sires who slumber at Thermopylæ.’ -These battered arms, gathered with -jealous care, shall hallow every home; our -little ones with awful reverence shall point to -the shivered sword, the war-scarred shield, -the bloody vesture or the helmet cleft, and -say, ’My father bore these arms at old Thermopylæ.’ -With noble ardor shall they yearn -for the day when their young arms shall bear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> -ancestral shields, the spear sustain, and, like -their sires, strike home on bloody fields for -liberty and law.”</p> - -<p>Their courage needed to be attempered, not -aroused by the clangor of trumpets, the stormy -roll of drums, and the frantic shout of multitudes. -To the sound of softest music, and -decked with flowers as for a bridal, they -marched upon their foe.</p> - -<p>Now flute notes and the sweet music of the -Spartan lyre floated upon the breath of morn -as they encountered the foe. Persian arrows -and javelins darkened the air, and discordant -yells rose up to heaven, but before that terrible -phalanx the multitudes went down like grass -before the scythe of the mower. Their spears -gave no second thrust, their swords no second -blow; assailed at length by millions in front -and rear, they were slain and not subdued. -Yet does their influence live in all literature -and all lands. To-day they teach the age -that there are nobler employments for man -than the acquisition of riches or the pursuit -of pleasure. The patriot scholar goes from -the contemplation of the relics of Roman and -Grecian art, to pay a deeper devotion at their -grass-grown sepulchre; listens to the dash of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> -waves, breaking as they broke upon the ear -of Leonidas and his heroes, when, on that -proud morning, they marched forth to die; -reads with awe that sublime epitaph and -passes on a better patriot and a better -man.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span></p> - -</div><div class="chapter"> - - -<h3><a name="THE_CENTURION" id="THE_CENTURION"></a>THE CENTURION</h3> - - -<p>The Roman Senate, in high conclave assembled, -deliberated respecting the raising of -fresh levies of men and arms. Powerful and -vindictive foes, with difficulty held at bay, -were gathering for attack, while the commons -were ripe for revolt. Meanwhile, a turbulent -crowd thronged the forum, surging to and -fro like forests tossed by conflicting winds. -Exasperated by oppression, beggared by usury, -they recounted their causes of discontent, and -thus fanned the smouldering flame in each -other’s breast. It was from their households -the conscription now pending was to be made; -their blood was to stain the fields of battle, -and victory, bringing but empty honors, would -leave them more under the power of their -masters than before. To increase the confusion, -some Latin horsemen came full speed -to the city, announcing that the Volsci were -on their march to attack it; upon which the -people set up a shout of joy, willing to perish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> -if so be their oppressors might perish with -them.</p> - -<p>Cries of agony now arose above the tumult, -and an old man pursued by creditors ran into -the midst imploring aid; but his pursuers -catching hold of the chain which was fastened -to his right foot, he fell upon his face, while -the blood gushed from his nostrils. He had -just escaped from the dungeon of a creditor; -his clothes were in tatters; his body emaciated -by hunger; while his face, hideous with -matted hair and beard, resembled more that -of a beast than of a man. Some soldiers at -length recalled the face of a centurion under -whom they had served, famed for military -skill, and distinguished by honors received as -the reward of valor in the field. It needed -but this spark to ignite a train already prepared -for explosion. With a roar, like that -of surges upon a winter’s beach, they trampled -his pursuers beneath their feet, bidding him -without fear to tell his tale, for they would -protect him though it were necessary to fling -both senate and consuls into the Tiber. And -now to that fearful uproar succeeded a silence -like that of the sepulchre, permitting the -feeble tones of the miserable man to reach<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> -every ear and touch every heart in that vast -assembly, as thus he spake:—</p> - -<p>“Ten years ago, my countrymen, I was the -owner of a little farm, the fruit of my labor -and that of my ancestors. It lay along the -base of hills around whose roots wound a brook -which, watering my fields, ran into the Tiber; -on its banks grew the elms that sustained our -vines; the hills were clothed with chestnut and -olives, and there also was the pasture of my -flocks. In the sheltered vale beneath, the -almond mingled with the fig, the flax spread -its azure flowers to the sun, apples bent the -laden boughs, and grain rewarded the toil of the -reaper. How dear to me was that humble cot -with its straw-thatched roof from which the -swallows sprang to greet the breaking day; -where the stock-dove hung its nest in the -beechen shade, and morning breezes brought -perfume to its threshold. How sweet, when -the weary bullocks were released from the -yoke, to lie among the lengthening shadows -and listen to the dying breeze steal through -the soft acanthus leaves in wild, low music. -Our wants were few and easily satisfied; my -wife ground the corn, her hands spun and -wove our clothing, my children were dutiful;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> -we led a frugal, happy life, revering the immortal -gods and cherishing the virtues of our -fathers. These few acres, valued as the fruit -of my own labor, the gift of my ancestors, consecrated -by their toil and pregnant with their -ashes, were to me inexpressibly dear. I, indeed, -was most of the time in arms for my country, -yet often in the midnight watches of the camp -did memory picture those sunny fields, my -family thinking and talking of the absent -soldier; nor did I forget to thank the immortal -gods, that, should my country require my -life, my family possessed a heritage and a -home. The sun was declining as I neared -my native vale on my return from the Sabine -war. Eagerly I pressed to the brow of the -hill that I might look down upon that dear -cot. It was a heap of ashes; the storm of war -had swept over those pleasant fields; fire had -consumed the standing corn; the cattle were -driven off, and the beauty of the groves had -departed. As nearer I drew, I descried the -body of my wife and first-born lying dead at -the threshold; the rest had fled, not a living -thing, even a dog, was left to welcome me; -and the tired soldier had not where to lay his -head.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p> - -<p>“To war succeeded famine, hostilities continued, -taxes increased, the land lay untilled. -I was compelled to borrow money at exorbitant -usury; that loved heritage passed into the -hands of strangers. The golden crown and -silver chain, bestowed for being the first to -enter the enemy’s camp, went next; they are -in the coffers of a man who never saw the -color of a foeman’s eye nor drew his sword in -the State’s behalf. All this not sufficing, my -creditor immured me in a foul dungeon beneath -his palace; with fifteen pounds of iron, the -utmost the law permits, was I loaded; a pound -of corn and water was my daily food, and I, -a Roman citizen and a centurion, was scourged -like a dog. Had I not broken my chain and -flung myself upon you for protection, this war-worn -body would have been cut in pieces and -apportioned among my creditors.</p> - -<p>“Comrades on many a bloody field, behold this -arm,—which in twenty-eight battles has fought -for the liberty of Rome till the hand clave to -the sword hilt,—worn by cruel fetters to the -bone; this body, seamed with honorable scars, -dripping blood from the knotted scourge. -Milder tortures would have been reserved -for me had I been the betrayer instead of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span> -the defender of my country. The laws which -consume the poor man’s substance and drain -his blood are by usurers enacted, by them are -executed. Usurers rob the public chest and -parcel out the conquered lands among themselves. -Let us, rather than longer submit to -such extortion, fling wide the gates to the -approaching enemy, leave them to exercise -their wisdom in making laws where there -are none to govern, levying taxes where there -are none to pay, and displaying their valor -where there is nought to defend. By the -ashes of that ruined home, those loved forms -mangled by the Sabine sword and devoured -by the vultures of the Apennines, by the sufferings -of my remaining children whose young -lives are consumed by the tortures from which -I have fled, by him who on Olympus holds his -awful seat and shakes the nations with his -nod, I conjure you to assert the rights of the -people and the ancient liberties of Rome.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p> - -</div><div class="chapter"> - - -<h3><a name="VIRGINIUS_TO_THE_ROMAN_ARMY" id="VIRGINIUS_TO_THE_ROMAN_ARMY"></a>VIRGINIUS TO THE ROMAN ARMY</h3> - - -<p>The night wind blew in fitful gusts, with -occasional dashes of rain, where, grouped -around their watch-fires, and sheltered by -the dense foliage of a beechen grove, a Roman -cohort held its leaguer. Some, their spears -thrust into the ground beside them, sat upright -against the trees; while others lay at -full length, with their heads resting upon -their shields.</p> - -<p>As the flames threw their red light upon -the war-scarred faces of the veterans, they -revealed only sullen features. No song nor -jest was heard,—no sound, save the low hiss -of the raindrops on the embers, the bay of a -wolf in the distant forest, and the low muttered -words of a soldier who was telling to his -comrade how that, the night before, as the -sun fell over the hills, a centurion rode past -his beat full speed to Rome, summoned there -by some new outrage of the Patricians.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p> - -<p>All that night, throughout the host, mysterious -forebodings crept. Men around their -watch-fires spake in low whispers; and many -a silent grasp of the hand passed from man to -man. As the night wore away, and the day -dawned, Virginius, upon a foaming steed, his -head bare, and in his right hand a bloody -knife, dashed past the guard to where—beneath -an oak which, withered and scorched -by sacrificial fires, flung no shadow—great -Jove was worshipped.</p> - -<p>Mounting the altar-steps, he turned, and, -with bloodshot eyes, glared upon the soldiers -who thronged tumultuously around him. -Holding aloft the bloody knife, he exclaimed, “With this weapon I have slain my only -child, to preserve her from dishonor!” Yells -of horror and bitter execrations rose from the -whole army; and a thousand swords flashed -in the sun’s bright beams.</p> - -<p>“Soldiers!” he cried, “I am like this -blasted tree. Two years ago the Ides of -May three lusty sons went with me to the -field. In one disastrous fight they perished. -A daughter, beautiful as the day, yet remained; -’tis but a week ago you saw her -here, bearing to her old sire home comforts<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> -prepared by her own hands, and sharing with -him the evening meal, and you blessed her as -you passed.</p> - -<p>“You’ll never see her more, who weekly -came, with the soft music of her voice, and -spells of home, to cheer our hearts. As on -her way to school she crossed the Forum, -Appius Claudius, through his minion Marcus, -claimed her as a slave. With desperate haste -I rode to Rome. Holding my daughter by -the hand, and by my side her uncle, her aged -grandsire, and Icilius her betrothed, I claimed -my child.</p> - -<p>“The judge, that he may gain his end, -decides that in his house and custody she -must remain, till I, by legal process, prove my -right! The guards approach. Trembling, -she clings around my neck,—her hot tears -on my cheek. Snatching this knife from a -butcher’s stall, I plunged it in her breast, that -her pure soul might go free and unstained to -her mother and her ancestors.</p> - -<p>“And this is the reward a grateful country -gives her soldiery! Cursed be the day my -mother bore me! Accursed my sire’s untimely -joy! Accursed the twilight hour, -when ’mid Etruscan groves I wooed and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> -won Acestes’ beauteous child, while youth’s -bright dreams were busy at my heart!</p> - -<p>“Soldiers! the deadliest foes of our liberties -are behind, not before us; they are not -the Æqui, the Volsci, and the Sabines, who -meet us in fair fight; but that pampered -aristocracy, who chain you by the death-penalty -to the camp, that in your absence -they may work their will upon those you -leave behind.</p> - -<p>“But why do I seek to kindle a fire in ice? -Why seek to arouse the vengeance of those -who care for no miseries but their own, and -are enamoured of their fetters? I, indeed, -can lose no more. Misfortune hath emptied -her quiver,—she hath no other shaft for this -bleeding breast; but flatter not yourselves -that the lust of Appius Claudius has expired -with the defeat of his purpose.</p> - -<p>“Your homes, likewise, invite the destroyer; -into your fold the grim wolf will leap; among -the lambs of your flock will he revel, his jaws -dripping blood. For you, also, the bow is -bent; the arrow drawn to the head; and the -string impatient of its charge. By all that I -have lost, and that you imperil by delay, -avenge this accursed wrong!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p> - -<p>“If you have arms, use them; liberties, -vindicate them; patriotism, save the tottering -State; natural affection, protect the domestic -hearth; piety, appease the wrath of the gods -by avenging the blood that cries to heaven. -To arms! To arms! or your swords will -leap from their scabbards, the trumpets sound -the onset, and the standards of <i>themselves</i> -advance to rebuke your delay!”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="GENERAL_GAGE_AND_THE_BOSTON" id="GENERAL_GAGE_AND_THE_BOSTON"></a>GENERAL GAGE AND THE BOSTON -BOYS</h3> - - -<p>The year seventeen hundred and seventy-five -dawned gloomily upon the inhabitants of -Massachusetts Bay. Portentous clouds darkened -the political horizon, while clear-sighted -and forecasting men prepared themselves for -a struggle they saw to be inevitable. The -attempt to crush by force of arms the spirit -of liberty in the colonies had already commenced. -A hostile fleet, with guns double-shotted -and trained upon the town, lay at -anchor in Boston Harbor. The town was -under martial law, the hills bristled with -cannon, sentinels challenged the citizen going -to his daily vocations, and the common was -a camp.</p> - -<p>On the wharves of this busy emporium of -colonial trade that had been wont to send its -thousand vessels each year to foreign and -domestic ports, the sailor’s song was hushed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> -warehouses were closed, and no canvas fluttered -to the breeze. But few shops, and those -only which dealt in the necessaries of life, were -opened, and the hammer of the artisan lay -rusting on the anvil. In many streets the -snow lying white and undisturbed before the -doors of hospitable dwellings evinced that -their occupants had fled from a tyranny -they were unable to resist. Beneath this -grinding oppression, so intolerable to the -spirit of a free people, no weak complaints -were uttered nor sounds of riot heard. The -citizen pursuing his business brushed the -sentinel with a calm brow and sealed lips, -and the children went to and fro to their -schools and plays.</p> - -<p>When soldiers barracked and horses were -stabled in their churches, when bayonets -gleamed in their halls of legislation, they -lifted up the voice to God in other places and -the town meeting was held as heretofore. -For the first time in the history of peoples, -the flocks sported in the pasture or slept -in the fold unconscious of the butcher’s knife; -the inhabitants of Massachusetts had resolved -to eat no mutton, that their resources might -be increased. On the roofs of sheds and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> -porticoes wool and flax were bleaching; from -hundreds of dwellings were heard the hum of -the wheel and the stroke of the loom, where -the mothers of heroes were preparing their -children for the forum or the field. Balls -were run and cartridges made by the hands -of women and children at the kitchen fire, -and, deftly concealed in loads of offal, passed -unchallenged the sentries to hiding-places in -the neighboring towns. Men who pursued -their usual labors during the day met at midnight -in garrets and cellars, and after swearing -upon the Scriptures to keep secret the purpose -of the meeting, consulted and prayed -together, enduring meanwhile as best they -might the insults of the soldiery.</p> - -<p>It was Wednesday afternoon and half-holiday. -General Gage, commander of troops -that held watch and ward over the rebels in -Massachusetts Bay and the town of Boston in -particular, was sitting in his quarters at the -Province House. The general’s brow was -clouded and he was evidently a prey to uneasy -thoughts; the intelligent perversity of -his opponents both perplexed and alarmed -him. He liked not the unwonted calm, the -utter absence of bluster and bravado, for he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> -knew too well the temper of the people with -whom he had to deal to mistake silence for -submission. He had fought with Washington -at Duquesne, aided to bear the dying Braddock -from the field, and feared that the rifles -that then saved the British army from utter -destruction were only biding their time, and -the drums that beat at Louisburg might at -any moment wake the slumbering fires and -the mine explode beneath his feet.</p> - -<p>While thus uneasily balancing probabilities, -his servant announced that some boys requested -an interview. The general, who was -exceedingly fond of children, ordered them to -be admitted.</p> - -<p>“Well, boys,” he inquired, “what is your -business with me?”</p> - -<p>“We have come, sir,” said the tallest boy, “to demand satisfaction.”</p> - -<p>“What, have your fathers been teaching -you rebellion and sent you to show it -here?”</p> - -<p>“No, sir, nobody sent us and nobody told -us to come, but we’ve come of our own accord -for our rights. The common belongs to the -people of Boston and their children. We are -town born, all of us, and so are the boys<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> -whom we represent, therefore we have a right -to play on the common. We have asked -many old people, and they tell us that boys -always have had this right, that they played -there and their fathers before them. We -have never made faces at your soldiers, called -them lobsters, thrown snowballs at them, or -insulted them in any manner, but while we -were minding our business, skating and building -snow hills, just as we have always done -every winter before even they were here, they -came and trampled down our sliding hills, and -broke the ice on our skating ground with the -breech of their musket. We complained; -they called us young rebels and told us to -help ourselves if we could. We then went to -the captain, and he laughed at us. We have -come, sir, for our rights. We want only the -rights which the law gives us and boys have -always had. Yesterday your soldiers destroyed -our works for the third time, and we -won’t endure this oppression any longer. -Your soldiers may shoot us if they wish, but -if you will not give us satisfaction, we will -get together all the boys and defend our works -while there is a snowball, a stone, or a boy -left in the town of Boston; for if we can’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> -play on our own common and skate on our -own pond, what can we do?”</p> - -<p>The general could not but admire the -resolution of the boys and assured them that -henceforth their rights should be respected.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p> - -</div><div class="chapter"> - - -<h3><a name="THE_WRECKED_PIRATE" id="THE_WRECKED_PIRATE"></a>THE WRECKED PIRATE</h3> - - -<p>In the year 1813 a piratical schooner was -wrecked upon one of the desolate Keys of the -Bahamas. The captain alone, of a crew of -ninety men, reached shore upon a broken -spar. For several months he subsisted upon -shell-fish and tropical fruits, with which the -island abounded, eked out by some provisions -saved from the wreck.</p> - -<p>While in this solitude, feelings which had -long slumbered were awakened in his breast, -and his heart was melted to repentance.</p> - -<p>After long months of waiting, he was rescued -by a passing vessel bound for Spain. A -pardon was at length obtained for him from -the Spanish government, and he ever after -lived a Christian life. But what thus wrought -upon the heart of the savage, hardened in -crime and blood? “Fear,” I hear you exclaim, “heightened by that terrible solitude; -death groans and piteous entreaties for mercy -that haunted each lonely ravine, and moaned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span> -in the winds of midnight!” Oh, no; it was -but the evening song of the turtle-doves which -built their nests among the mangrove bushes -that fringed the borders of the creeks.</p> - -<p>Behold him as he stands! that man of -brawl and battle, his stern features unmoved -as the cliffs beside him, gazing upon the bodies -of the companions of many a bloody fray, -tossed amid the fragments of broken timbers -in the surf at his feet. What a mingling of -the elements of agony and fear!—the abyss of -ocean, the lonely wreck, the livid bodies of the -dead, the desolate shore, himself cut off from -all human fellowship, a stinging conscience -within, and the eternal God above him, whose -lightnings play around his head. All these -move him not. But hark! As those bird-notes, -so sweetly mournful, strike upon his -ear, familiar through many an hour of careless -boyhood in his early home, the blood -flushes to his cheek and lip; the sweat bedews -his brow. Those soft notes recall days of innocence, -ere blood had stained his hand, and -remorse was gnawing at his heartstrings. -The low notes of a mother’s prayer thrill, like -some forgotten melody, upon his ear. Again -her lips are pressed to his as when she kissed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> -him for the last time, upon his father’s threshold. -Tears are streaming down those cheeks, -bronzed by burning suns and furrowed by seafoam -and tempest; and that voice, whose stern -tones had risen above the roar of battle and -roused the seaman from his slumbers like the -trump of doom, grows all tremulous with emotion -as he cries, “God, be merciful to me a -sinner.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a><br /><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span></p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a><br /><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span></p> - -</div><div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="SPEECHES" id="SPEECHES"></a>SPEECHES</h2> - - -<h3><a id="AN_OUNCE_OF_PREVENTION"></a>“AN OUNCE OF PREVENTION”</h3> - -<p class="center"><small>[Delivered at a meeting of the Temperance Society in -Boston in 1861]</small></p> - - -<p>Were I called upon, Mr. Chairman, to define -intemperance by its effects, I would say: “It -is that which covers the fields of the husbandman -with tares and thorns, and strews the -ocean with wrecks. It is that which renders -the clerk unfaithful to his employer, the public -man to his constituents, the magistrate to his -oath of office, the parent to his family, and all -who are trusted to every trust. It is that which -stirs to mutiny every corrupt passion, weakens -every motive to virtue, adds strength to -vicious allurements, and pushes the reluctant -will over the verge of every damnable and desperate -enterprise. So well is this understood -by the doers of evil that it is in the armies of -evil the regular weapon whose value is unquestioned -after the experience of ages. Is -a seaman to be enticed to desert his ship or a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> -soldier his colors? Ply him with liquor. Is -a ruffian steeped in crime to be urged to some -deed of horror from which even his hardened -nature revolts? Ply him with liquor. Is a -young man with his curiosity awake, his passions -pure and jubilant, and his heart throbbing -with warm impulses of budding life to be -put upon that same descending grade opening -to a like abyss of utter loathsomeness, his fair -face to be rendered shameless, and his lips to -reek of the pit? Then go, thou familiar -spirit, whose abode is in the sparkling cup, -assume the form of beauty and youth, show -him not at once thy craven features, but -while his arm is linked in thine, accustom -him by slow gradations to the festive and -genial cup.”</p> - -<p>The ways and methods of doing good are -not intuitive. They are, as in the arts and -crafts, the result of effort and experience. -Good men by long practice into which they -have flung their very hearts have learned -more and more effective methods of grappling -with intemperance. At first they began with -cure; now they try prevention, not forgetting -the other. Once they went alongside the old -hulk stranded on the beach, her masts gone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> -by the board, her rigging white and weather-worn -hanging over her bulwarks, ochre hanging -from her opening seams, and refitting -and relaunching her, they obtained from the -stranded hulk a few years of inferior service. -Now they buoy the channel and light the -beacon, and thus prevent the shipwreck. -Noble men went to the inebriate crawling in -the gutter; with kindly sympathy they raised -him up and restored him to usefulness and -power. But who, save the inebriate himself, -can tell the bitterness of that struggle between -the man, the husband, the father, struggling -to rise, and the demon that strives to drag -him back? How true it is that that accursed -longing never dies! How true it is that we -need never learn to drink but once! What -temperance reformer is there who has not -shed bitter tears over the final wreck of those -whom he thought he had saved?</p> - -<p>Thus noble efforts were made, multitudes -partially, and many really reformed, but all -the time behind there was a thronging army -of young men treading the same paths. But, -taught by experience, men have now begun -to grapple with this evil on its strongest -ground; that is, in its social aspect, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> -which is most alluring to the romantic and -the young.</p> - -<p>I may safely say that from the beginning -of social life the great mass of the literature, -genius, and wealth of the world has been, -and is now, on the side of intemperance. The -greatest poets that ever lived have sung in -strains of beauty that captivated the young -heart the praises of the ruby wine. It has -for ages been interwoven with all festivals,—the -meeting and parting of social life. -It is this more than the love of liquor that -attracts. In this view wine becomes the -exponent of all that is genial and warm; -temperance of all that is cold, forbidding, and -repulsive. It is for just this purpose and to -meet the enemy at just this point that associations -like this have been formed. They seek -to show that the flowing bowl is not of necessity -the quickener of the intellect, or of all -ardent and generous feeling; that it is not -the only elixir for the heavy heart. They -would show that there are other pleasures as -exhilarating as those of the wine cup—pleasures -that leave no sting behind. They would -show that men can be earnest scholars, -sympathetic friends, jovial companions, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span> -at the same time taste not, touch not, and -handle not the wine cup, or be under any -obligations to alcohol for their enjoyment. -May this association in the heart of this great -city accomplish its purpose, and be the young -man’s friend.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="RELIGIOUS_WORSHIP_EARLY_IN_THE" id="RELIGIOUS_WORSHIP_EARLY_IN_THE"></a>RELIGIOUS WORSHIP EARLY IN THE -CENTURY</h3> - -<p><small>[Delivered at the Municipal Celebration of the one hundredth -anniversary of the incorporation of the town of -Portland, Maine, Sunday, July 4, 1886.]</small></p> - - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Chairman</span>: Having been requested to -offer some remarks in respect to the conduct -of religious worship early in the century, I -would say that early impressions are the most -enduring, and religious impressions more so -than all others, resulting from the fact that -they are not so much impressions as the development -of innate tendencies kept alive and -nourished by the intercourse that all men, to a -greater or less extent, hold with their Creator. -There are none that so resent interference or -are with such difficulty eradicated. Though -by no means one of the good boys who die -young, and with little inclination to acquire -knowledge by books or by dint of study, -there were two subjects that always possessed -for me a peculiar interest and attraction—<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> -one the employment by which men obtained -their bread, and the other the discussion of -religious doctrines, though utterly averse to -any personal application of them. I recollect -that when I had twenty-five cents given me -by my father to go to Sukey Baker’s tavern -to see an elephant, a rare sight in those days, -I sat as demure as a mouse in my father’s -study the greater part of an afternoon listening -to a discussion between him and a Hopkinsonian -minister upon disinterested benevolence, -which was brought at last to an abrupt termination -in consequence of the use by the -Hopkinsonian of the following illustration: “Suppose, Brother Kellogg, I was walking -over a bridge with two ladies, to one of whom -I was tenderly attached and engaged to be -married, the other an indifferent person. My -particular friend, I am aware, is a person of -ordinary ability, but the other lady is possessed -of great mental powers thoroughly disciplined, -and both of them are in a state of grace. The -bridge breaks through and we fall into the -stream. I can save but one of them, and in -that case it would be my duty, even if I had -to leave my personal friend to perish, to save -the more gifted person, because she is able<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> -and qualified to do more for the glory of -God.” My father ended the discussion by -rising and declaring that a man who could -cherish, much more propagate, such abominable -sentiments was not fit to preach the -Gospel nor even to live in a Christian society. -The discussion and ways of ministers, their -preaching and modes of conducting worship at -that period are as vivid in my recollection -to-day as then, and I purpose to turn this to -account in complying with your request.</p> - -<p>Religious worship at that time, though -modified, still retained much of the ancient -spirit and something of the form. My father -and the ministers of his age formed the connecting -link between the old and the new. -Many of the old ministers, who were settled for -life, and wore old ministerial wigs, cocked -hats, small clothes, and bands, were still preaching, -and frequently exchanged with my father,—Father -Lancaster of Scarborough, Mr. Tilton -and Mr. Eaton of Harpswell. Father Lancaster -would sometimes fall asleep in the pulpit -while the choir were singing the hymn -before the sermon, for he was well-stricken -with years. Ministers of a later date wore a -queue and powdered their hair. My father in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span> -younger life wore his hair long, and it curled -down his back and was powdered. He also -retained the bands for a neck dress. I can -just recollect when he exchanged breeches for -loose pants. The old people, who were opposed -to the innovation, called them sailor trousers, -and said they did not become a servant of -God, were got up to conceal spindle shanks, -and the deacons of the First Parish and some -others retained them. The sermons and -prayers were somewhat curtailed, even by the -old ministers, but were still of sufficient length. -The hour-glass was no longer seen on the pulpit, -but was still used in families, schools, and -by the toll-keeper at Vaughan’s bridge. The -deacons in the First Parish still sat before the -pulpit, but the practice of deaconing the hymns -was given up. Intentions of marriage were -no longer cried in the church with the addition -that if any person could show cause why they -should not be carried into effect, to make it -known, or else forever to hold their peace; -but publishments were posted in the porch of -the meeting-house for all to read. Much importance -was attached to the singing, and it -was always performed by a full choir, as loud -noise was by our forefathers deemed essential<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> -in public worship. At first there was no instrument -except the bass viol. The chorister, -conscious of the dignity of his office, would -rise with a solemn air, run up the scale, beating -time with his hand, and lift the tune. My -father, who had been drum-major in the Continental -army, and was extremely fond of instrumental -music, introduced the cornet and -clarinet, in addition to the bass viol, into the -Second Parish choir. He likewise persuaded -Mr. Edward Howe, of Groton, Massachusetts, -to come and set up business in Portland on account -of his musical talent, and assisted him -all he could, and Mr. Howe led the choir of the -Second Parish for years, keeping up with the -progress of the times. Difficulties with church -choirs were as prevalent then as now. At one -time the first hymn was read, but there was -no response from the choir. My father, who -was a good singer, immediately read the hymn, “Let those refuse to sing who never knew our -God,” and led off himself, and the congregation -joined in. When the next hymn was read, the -choir concluded to sing.</p> - -<p>There was no fire in the meeting-houses. -The women carried foot-stoves that contained -an iron dish filled with hot coals. The sexton<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> -was bound by written contract to keep a good -rock-maple wood fire on the Sabbath in order -that the people might have good coals with -which to fill their foot-stoves in the morning -and replenish them between meetings. Children -suffered the most from cold feet, and -would often cry with cold. I used to run my -legs to the knees into my mother’s muff and get -my feet on her foot-stove and long for services -to be done. My father used to say that when -he could hear people all over the house striking -their feet together to quicken the circulation, -he felt it was time to stop preaching, and -indeed he seldom preached more than forty -minutes, and often less. But many of the old -ministers who exchanged with him had a -method of dividing their sermons that to a boy -with cold feet was extremely tantalizing. They -would have six, eight, and often ten heads of -discourse after which came “the improvement,” -the most excruciating of all. After a long -time occupied in the application of what had -preceded, the minister would say “lastly.” -Then all the younger portion of the audience -would prick up their ears and handle their -mittens in expectation of the close, but after -this would come “finally,” and on the heels<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> -of “finally” “to conclude,” and after “conclude,” “in short.” There were few Sabbath-schools; -religious instruction was in former -days given to the children by means of the -Westminster Catechism that was taught to -children by their parents; and at stated times -in the year the ministers were accustomed to -assemble all the children of the parish and -catechise them. Parents who were not religious, -equally with others, taught their children -the catechism that they might be able to -answer the questions of the ministers and appear -as well as their companions. This method -of instruction had fallen in a measure into -disuse, and though Sabbath-schools had been -substituted to take its place, they were not -cherished or conducted as at present. No -pains were taken to render them attractive. -Some parents held on to both methods of religious -instruction upon the principle that there -never could be too much of a good thing. The -schools had little hold upon the hearts of the -ministers of the church and were generally -taught outside. The first Sabbath-school I -attended was held in a schoolhouse that stood -on the northeastern side of State Street. The -late Mr. Cahoon was my teacher. The New<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> -Testament was the text-book. Children committed -hymns but took no part in the singing.</p> - -<p>There was a vein of austerity running -through the relations that existed between -parents and children. They were neither -fondled nor pampered, but taught self-denial, -to obey their parents, and reverence old age. -In many families the children ate at a side -table, as they were not supposed to be fitted -by age or development to associate with their -elders.</p> - -<p>In the province of labor there was no special -adaptation of the implements of labor to -the physical strength of children, nor in matters -of education any adaptation of studies or -methods of teaching to their mental wants as -at present, but children and youths used to a -large extent the tools and books of their elders -or waited till they grew up to them. Thus, -in matters of religion, immediate effect was -not expected either in relation to children or -adults. It was not expected that a person -would be converted till he was married and -settled in life.</p> - -<p>The question will naturally arise in the -minds of many, what was the result of such -a mode and spirit of worship as to the pro<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span>motion -of vital godliness and the conversion -of souls. I reply, there was but little fruit. -The preaching was mostly argumentative and -controversial or political—the conic sections -of godliness. Ministers seemed to feel that -their responsibility ended when they had faithfully -preached the truth and kept back nothing, -and church members, when they attended -the ordinances and kept the faith.</p> - -<p>The first great change for the better in this -state of affairs was caused by the embargo, -which crushed for a season and well-nigh exterminated -the business interests of Portland. -It brought those who had become giddy with -more than twenty years of unexampled prosperity -to reflection. In proportion as their -prospects in this life were blighted, they directed -their attention to the attainment of more durable -riches. The ministers of the gospel of all -denominations took advantage of the changed -condition of thought, and there was a great -revival of religious interest throughout New -England. Edward Payson, who was then in -the prime of life and a colleague with my -father, exerted himself to an extent that consigned -him to an early grave, and there was -during his ministry a constant revival. In<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span>stead -of fate, free-will, foreknowledge, absolute -free-will, etc., people began to hear of Christ -and Him crucified, the still small voice of the -Spirit, and the danger of delay. The eyes of -men, stirred to a new life, were now opened to -perceive the great obstacles to the progress of -religion and morality.</p> - -<p>The drinking customs of the day which had -now reached a fearful extent, and African slavery -and the discussions concerning it, caused -a shaking of the dry bones seldom equalled; -for conscience, self-interest, and the law of -God were pitted against each other. The -main shaft that carried the wheels of business -in Portland was the lumber trade, which consisted -in transporting lumber to the West -Indies and bartering it for molasses, a large -portion of which was made into rum that -went all over the country. There was new -rum for poor people, and West India rum for -those in better circumstances. I have seen -my mother, as often as Parson Lancaster exchanged -with my father, mix Holland gin and -loaf sugar and warm it for him before he -went into the pulpit and after he came out. -I once went with my father to a funeral in -Beaver (now Brown) Street, and a decanter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> -of liquor and glasses were set on the coffin. -At eleven o’clock on each day the bell would -ring, the masons come down from the ladders, -the joiners drop their tools, and all would partake -of rum, salt-fish, and crackers. This -great obstacle, in a measure taken out of the -way, led to the development of a spirit of -Christian enterprise which I leave to abler -tongues and pens to describe.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> - -</div><div class="chapter"> - - -<h3><a name="AT_BOWDOIN_COMMENCEMENT" id="AT_BOWDOIN_COMMENCEMENT"></a>AT BOWDOIN COMMENCEMENT, -JUNE 25, 1890</h3> - - -<p>[Among papers especially treasured by Mr. -Kellogg was found the following letter:—</p> - -<div class="small"> -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Brunswick, Maine</span>, May 22, 1890. -</p> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Mr. Kellogg</span>: The coming Commencement -will be the fiftieth anniversary of your graduation. It is -our custom to call first on a representative of the class of -fifty years ago; and as goes his speech, so goes the dinner. -Now you are not only the natural representative of the class -of fifty years ago, but one of the most widely known and universally -beloved of all the graduates of our whole hundred -years. So we shall look to you for the response from the -Class of ’40. You must not fail us. If you do not report -yourself present at the formation of the procession in the -morning, we shall send a sheriff and posse after you. The -Congressmen will not be here this year. The success of the -dinner depends on your coming, and giving us such a send-off -as you only can give to a crowd of Bowdoin College boys. -It will be a sad day for Bowdoin College if there shall ever -be a generation of students who know not Elijah Kellogg.</p> -<p class="center">“Faithfully yours,</p> -<p class="right"> -“<span class="smcap">William DeW. Hyde</span>.”] -</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. President, Gentlemen, Members -of the Alumni, and Classmates</span>: It is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span> -fifty years this autumn since I presented myself, -a sedate and diffident youth, between the -two maple trees that relieved the monotony -of this then arid and barren college yard, and, -like friendship and misfortune, flung their -shadows over the steps of Massachusetts -Hall, and sued for admittance to Bowdoin -College. With that humility which was an -inherent attribute of youth in that bygone -day, I requested an inhabitant of this village -to point out to me the president of -the college, and I gazed upon the great -man with that anxiety and solicitude, inspired -by the belief that my fate and that of my -companions lay in his clutches. Since that -period, since that comparatively short period, -what changes have taken place! This barren -college yard, across which students were wont -to hurry, has been transformed into a beautiful -and attractive campus where they are now -prone to linger and repose and sport. This -then barren college yard, where Professors -Smyth and Newman struggled desperately to -prolong the existence of a few sickly trees, -and died in the struggle, is now adorned -by that beautiful Memorial Hall, created by -the hands of a progressive age, and transmit<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span>ting -to other generations the virtues and the -memory of those sons of Bowdoin who were -true to their country in the hour of her peril.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" ><a id="p288"></a> -<img src="images/p288.jpg" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Elijah Kellogg at Seventy-seven.</span><br />1890.</div> -</div> - - -<p>But in other respects what changes! -Every president but two, a great portion of -the overseers, the trustees, and alumni, every -instructor, every teacher, every tutor, almost -every person in any way connected with this -college, from the treasurer to the janitor, and -the woman who took care of the rooms, have -all passed away. I can reckon my own surviving -classmates on my fingers, and I stand -here to-day like an old tree among the -younger growth, from whose trunk the bark -and leaves have fallen, and whose roots are -drying in the soil. Then I could stand where -the roads divide that lead to Mere Point and -Maquoit, and hear the roar of the Atlantic in -one ear and that of the falls of the Androscoggin -in the other. To-day I have not heard -a word, except the two words “Bowdoin -College.”</p> - -<p>But there is no decrepitude of the spirit. -Moons may wax and wane, flowers may -bloom and wither, but the associations that -link the student to his intellectual birthplace -are eternal.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p> - -<p>There is an original tendency in the human -mind which is the foundation of the desire for -property. We all naturally crave something -that is our own. What lover of nature wants -to be where everybody has been? It is an -instinctive tendency. We want our own land, -however limited; our own house, however -humble; our own books, however few in number. -Who, I pray you, wants to “wear his -heart upon his sleeve for daws to peck at,” -or be a member of a fraternity that is like -an unfenced common for every slimy thing to -creep and to crawl over? It is this instinctive -feeling which has from the beginning -been at the foundation of all fraternities of -every description, and they have striven to -realize this idea, though they have not always -accomplished it. This principle of limitation -strengthens by concentrating every association -and every feeling of the human mind, -just as the expansive gases derive their terrific -power from compression, and liquids, by -concentration, gain in pungency what they -lose in bulk. It is this which imparts such -magic power to the college tie, because the -college tie brings and binds together, at a -period when friendships are most ardent and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> -sincere, and feelings are most plastic, those -who have separated themselves to intermeddle -with all knowledge, and unites them in the -pursuit of all that can honor God, develop the -intellect, or benefit mankind.</p> - -<p>It introduces them at once into a fraternity -composed, not merely of their own classmates -and contemporaries, but of all the gifted and -the good who still live in their works, and by -whose labors they profit. The longer a man -lives, the broader his views, and the more he -experiences of men and things, the more he -feels his obligation to his Alma Mater, to the -nourishment he drew from her bosom, to the -formative influences with which she surrounded -him. Brethren, it was here we were intellectually -born and bred.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">“’Twas here our life of life began,</div> - <div class="verse">The spirit felt its dormant power.</div> - <div class="verse">’Twas here the youth became the man,</div> - <div class="verse">The bud became the flower.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>The longer a man lives the more sensible -he becomes of this obligation, and though it is -impossible to repress a feeling of sadness when -we visit the rooms and tread the floors where -those swift-winged hours flew, and where we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> -decipher the almost obliterated inscriptions, -the names on the walls, names of those most -dear to us, of those whose step kept time and -whose hearts throbbed in unison with ours,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">“Who the same pang and pleasure felt,</div> - <div class="verse">At the same shrine of worship knelt,</div> - <div class="verse">And knew the same celestial glow</div> - <div class="verse">That young and burning spirits know</div> - <div class="verse">In the bright dreaming days of youth,</div> - <div class="verse">Ere visions have been chilled by truth,</div> - <div class="verse">And feelings gushed without control</div> - <div class="verse">Of those cold fetters fashioned by</div> - <div class="verse">That wayward king, society.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>And yet these considerations are modified -by the reflection that they have nobly used -the training that they here received, and are -exerting influences that survive them, and -have sown seed that shall be the increment -of future harvests.</p> - -<p>I feel grateful that a lengthened life and -an intimate acquaintance with the history and -former faculty and the students of this college -have enabled me to appreciate the progress -of this institution for the last fifty years. -For more than forty years circumstances have -so ordered it that I have been brought into -most intimate relations with the faculty and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> -students of Bowdoin College. They have -loved me and I have loved them. I have -been brought into contact with these young -men at a period in their moral and mental -development when a youth will tell his whole -heart, all his best plans, aspirations, and difficulties -to an older person who he feels understands -him and whom he knows he can trust; -and in the light of this experience, I do not -hesitate to say that this college never stood -so high in moral and intellectual work as it -does this day. In 1838 I listened to the -farewell address of President Allen to the -faculty and students of this college and -the inhabitants of this town, in which he -declared that this college was a seething tub -of iniquity, and he could not in conscience -advise any parent to send a child here. Mr. -President, do you think you could in conscience -make such a declaration? And whatever -may be thought, I say whatever may -be thought of the good judgment of the -reverend gentleman, it cannot be denied that -he had good grounds for his assertion.</p> - -<p>There were at that time a great many pious -and devoted students in college, as many, -probably, in proportion to the number, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> -have ever been since. They had a praying -circle, and the college church kept up their religious -meetings and attended them promptly. -They lived, the greater portion of them, devoted -and consistent lives, and from time to -time they received the influence of the Divine -Spirit, and many strong men were brought to -Christ and fitted for usefulness; but in general -they had the fire all to themselves and it -warmed no one else. The good went with the -good, and the bad with the bad. There was -a line of demarcation between them. I did -what I could to break it, came very near shipwreck, -and shall carry the scars of it to my -grave, but I am glad I made the attempt. -Those were not the methods which the changing -times required. The Christian Association -which has superseded them, built on a -broader basis, meets the requirements of to-day, -and does more to promote the morality -of the college. Things have broadened since -I was a boy. Why, when I was a young man, -it was thought that a person couldn’t be converted -till he was married and settled in life.</p> - -<p>Another thing which has added strength to -this college and been fruitful in respect to -morality is the attention that has been paid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span> -of late to athletic exercises. This outlet for -superfluous energy has more to do with the -good order and subordination of the institution -than most people are wont to imagine. -Boys that in my day would have been playing -cards in their room for a hot supper and fixings -at the Tontine, are now pulling an oar -or playing baseball or lawn-tennis, and the -germs of mischief ooze out in copious drops -of perspiration. And when night comes, -instead of reveling in shirt-tail processions, -making night hideous, they are contented to -sit down with their books or go to bed.</p> - -<p>It has always been a vexed problem how to -give students exercise. Every man of common -sense knows that students, in order to -accomplish anything, must have exercise. -Andover built a large building, bought tools -and stock, hired a skilled foreman, and was -going to set the students to work. They -wasted so much lumber and brought the -institution so heavily in debt that they were -obliged to sell out and turn the building into -a house for Professor Stone.</p> - -<p>I recall the military drill here. It was all -very well for a while. But all couldn’t be -officers. Nobody was content to be dragooned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> -by an army officer. But lawn-tennis, baseball, -football, and the gymnasium fill the bill. -The students are proud of their gymnasium, -and I know from personal experience that, -during the last eight years, those who have -excelled in athletic exercises have also excelled -in rank.</p> - -<p>Now I believe that this college has taken a -new departure, and I believe there is a future -for it from the fact that the alumni take more -interest in the college than they used to take, -and because there are so many poor students -connected with it. Poor students are the salvation -of a college. I know young men who -worked their way through college who are -to-day its benefactors. I worked my way -through college with a narrow axe, and when -I was hard up for money, I used to set the -college fence afire and burn it up, and the -treasurer would hire me to build another -one. Let the young man who has to help -himself thank God, keep his powder dry, and -take to his bosom the old motto: “<i>Per -angusta ad augusta.</i>”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="AT_CENTENNIAL_CELEBRATION_OF" id="AT_CENTENNIAL_CELEBRATION_OF"></a>AT CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION OF -BOWDOIN COLLEGE, JUNE 28, 1894</h3> - - -<p>My love, Mr. President, for this college was -inherited. I drew it in with my mother’s -milk, and was taught it at my father’s knees. -He was one of its first trustees, proposed its -first president, and sold the lands the proceeds -of which, after almost interminable delays, -built Massachusetts Hall. Judge Freeman of -the trustees, a most excellent and influential -man and ardently attached to the college, was -naturally very cautious, and that trait was now -much increased by age; it seemed on account -of his influence as if a building would never -be erected. It was at length moved at a -meeting of the Boards that my father be -appointed and empowered to sell the college -lands. He accepted the trust on condition -that they would put Judge Parker of Massachusetts -with him to draw the writings. This -being done, he said, “Gentleman, these lands -will all be sold within a year.” Judge Free<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span>man, -stroking his face, as was his habit when -excited, exclaimed: “They will ruin us. They -will ruin us.” “I,” observed another of the -trustees, “want to be ruined; I had rather die -at once than moulder away by dry rot.” The -lands were sold within the specified time, a -building was then erected, and President -McKeen inaugurated. Seldom has the hand -of Divine Providence been more clearly manifested -than in the origin and growth of this -college. From its inception it secured in its -presidents, professors, trustees, and overseers -men who had the interests of morality and -sound learning more at heart than their own -ease or emolument. The abilities of its teachers -and their reputation would have at any -time procured for them more eligible positions -if ease, compensation, and reputation had alone -been consulted. They were self-denying men; -they loved the college and labored and denied -themselves for its good.</p> - -<p>I was absent from college but three years -when I returned and settled at Harpswell. I -had a great deal to do with the college, was -in intimate relations with the professors and -their families, and had opportunity to appreciate -their real worth. They were not merely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span> -residents of the community, but useful citizens -and a public blessing. The high school owes its -origin in a great degree to Professor Smyth. -All the neighboring ministers were under more -or less obligation to them. They attended -funerals, supplied destitute churches, and in -the weekly religious meetings of the village -were a power for good. I have worked weeks -with Professor Smyth, setting out trees on the -campus which he bought and paid for. Professor -Upham gave the greater part of his -property to the college. He for two years -supplied the pulpit of the Congregational -church at Harpswell, and but for his efforts -it would not have been in existence now. In -the last term of my senior year he came to -Andover and told me if I did not go to -Harpswell, God would curse me as long as I -lived. I do not know what the Lord would -have done, but I have found that obedience is -sweet and not servitude.</p> - -<p>Those worthy men inspired the students with -like sentiments. Every class made great sacrifices -to purchase valuable standard works for -their society libraries. The literary spirit was -by no means in abeyance in those days. The -best minds in college took as much interest in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span> -preparing themselves for debates and other -parts in the two societies as they did for a -Junior and Senior Exhibition. The students -dammed the glen at Paradise Spring and made -a pond. They also terraced the sides of the -glen and constructed seats of turf, and addresses -and poems were delivered there to most appreciative -audiences. Sam Silsbee flung Albion -Andrew into Paradise Pond, and he was so fat -that he floated like a bladder. Sam was not -aware that he was laying sacrilegious hands -upon the future governor of Massachusetts any -more than I was aware that Melville Fuller -would be Chief Justice of the United States, -when with care on his young brow and the -fire of a great purpose in his eye, I marked -him laying the foundation of future renown. -Were there not poets in those days who possessed -the vision and the faculty divine? Did -not President Allen have a hat that was woven -of grass that grew on Mount Parnassus? Did -not John B. Soule compose a Latin ode upon -a moth that flew into a candle which in the -opinion of the class compared favorably with -those of Horace? And has he not since that -time by more elaborate efforts proved that -the child is father of the man? How can I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> -ignore a most pathetic effusion, on the death -of an unfortunate cat that was crushed beneath -a woodpile, written in the style of President -Allen?</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">“Poor puss, and wast thou to death squeezed</div> - <div class="verse">Beneath the weighty pile?</div> - <div class="verse">How must thy life have been outsneezed</div> - <div class="verse">The agonizing while!</div> - <div class="verse">And, pussy, didst thou found it hard</div> - <div class="verse">To part from kittens young?</div> - <div class="verse">For if thou’dst not a feeling heart,</div> - <div class="verse">Thou hadst a feline one.</div> - <div class="verse">Now, pussy, since thou art up-used,</div> - <div class="verse">From door thee I’ll outthrow,</div> - <div class="verse">Thy body from thy mind unscrewed,</div> - <div class="verse">To bleach beneath the snow.</div> - <div class="verse">By hill and valley, dale and stream,</div> - <div class="verse">The rats shall frisk and frolic,</div> - <div class="verse">Crying ’Hurrah, we’ll lick the cream</div> - <div class="verse">Since pussy’s got the colic.’”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>During the latter part of President Allen’s -administration discipline was lax; intemperance -prevailed to a fearful extent in college as -it did in the community. There were no railroads, -and people came to Commencement and -remained in Brunswick till the close. It was -then customary for the graduating class to -set tables in the rooms in which were liquors -and other refreshments, and entertain their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> -relatives and friends. At one time there -was a room in North College in which a -table was set with liquors and other refreshments, -and straw was put upon the floor, and -over the door a sign bearing the inscription, “Entertainment for Man and Beast.” But -even at that time there was a body of students -composing the college church or Praying -Circle, as it was termed, the greater -number of whom were persons of the most -decided religious character. They held meetings -and taught Sabbath-schools in different -parts of the town, and were in sympathy with -every good work; but between them and the -majority of the other students there was a line -of demarcation. Each party travelled their -own road, and they had little to do with one -another. But after 1838 there was a change; -a deep religious interest began and continued, -the herald of a better day. Since that day -Christian associations have exerted a salutary -influence, and, like the Gulf Stream sending -its warm current through the cold waters of -the Atlantic, have imparted a more genial -tone to the intercourse of the students. Athletic -exercises have likewise laid a strong hand -upon much of the time formerly devoted to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span> -more questionable recreations. Although the -present furor in these sports has its dangers -and the matter is liable to abuse, yet they fill -the bill as nothing else ever did, and when -pruned of their excrescences will become a -power for good. Young men of real stamina, -however full of blue veins and vitriol and however -enamoured of baseball, football, and boating, -and hurried to extremes for the moment, -will yet recall and heed the words of Cicero -who represents Milo of Crotona, the greatest -athlete of ancient times, who could kill an ox -with a blow of his fist, shedding idiotic tears -as in his old age he looked upon his flabby -skin and shrunken muscles, and wept because -he could no longer contend and conquer in the -Olympic games. Milo had muscle and nothing -else. May it never be said of Bowdoin students -that they have muscle and nothing else, -and certainly not that they are destitute of it.</p> - -<p>Great was the change when President -Woods succeeded President Allen. Never -will the upper classes of that year forget the -day of his inauguration. When he took his -stand upon the platform to deliver his address, -he laid upon the table before him a manuscript -as thick as a three-inch plank. A<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> -riband was passed through it, dividing it into -equal parts. But he never looked at it from -the beginning to the close, except that, when -halfway through, he opened at the riband but -made no use of it. For more than two hours, -without the hesitation of a moment or the -lapse of a word, he held that audience spellbound. -I have never known the man who -could produce the impression—and a permanent -one—upon a wild boy that he could. -There are many living, distinguished and beloved, -and many here present who will never -forget their obligations to Leonard Woods.</p> - -<p>For a poor boy smitten with the love of -knowledge to work his way through college -was once a formidable task. The only methods -of doing it were keeping school in the long -winter vacation, manual labor as they went -along, or hiring money with the result of being -burdened with debt at graduation. The Education -Society could do but little, and there -were no scholarships as at present. I walked -seventy-five miles over the frozen ground after -Christmas to the Penobscot to keep school, and -back again through the mud in March, because -I was too poor to ride; and I had to hire a -watch in Brunswick to keep school with.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p> - -<p>The commonwealth justly expects much -from the students and alumni who enjoy the -advantages both literary and pecuniary now -accorded.</p> - -<p class="center"> -“Ye are marked men, ye men of Dalecarlia.”<br /> -</p> - -<p>The associations of this day come home -with peculiar force to the minds of those -who have been familiar with the history and -watched the progress of this college from the -day it was a mere shrub, with bare shade sufficient -to cover its own roots, to this glad hour -when they rejoice that they are permitted to -look upon it as a massive tree, on whose broad -foliage the sunlight loves to linger and the -dew lieth all night on its branches. Withered -hands are lifted in benediction: the tremulous -accents of age join the universal jubilee. They -will depart cheered by the assurance that when -the dial plate shall be taken off from this great -clockwork of the universe, and in eternity we -behold its secret wheels and springs, it will be -found that those who, at this seat of science, -have separated themselves that they might intermeddle -with all knowledge, its officers and -its benefactors, have lived, labored, endured, -not for themselves, but for their country and -their God.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span></p> - -</div><div class="chapter"> - - -<h3><a name="LOVE" id="LOVE"></a>LOVE</h3> - -<p class="center"><small>[Delivered at “Donation Party,” Harpswell, September 18, -1894]</small></p> - - -<p>Love, my friends and neighbors, is something -that defies definition and resents analysis. -It is not possible to communicate the -perception of it to one who has never experienced -it. It must be felt in order to be -known. It is likewise the most permanent -of all the qualities of the mind. Anger, however -violent, expires with the occasion that -called it forth. Grief, however bitter and -heart-rending, time will remove, and it will -blunt the sting of sorrow. But love is inexhaustible -and grows by what it feeds upon. -Here is the father of a young family. He is -returning at night from his work. As he -approaches the door, a little one who can just -go alone espies him. With cries of delight he -runs to meet his parent, till, out of breath and -strength, he falls exhausted into his father’s -outstretched arms. The happy parent raises<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> -the little one and kisses him. When he has -kissed that child a dozen times, does he not -want to kiss him a dozen times more? Thus -affection grows by what it feeds upon and is -inexhaustible. It will do or endure more for -the welfare of its object than any other faculty. -You may hire a man to labor for you, -you may force him to obey you, but not to love -you. No power on earth can do that. On -the other hand, does he love you, that love -will cause him to do more for you than all -other motives put together, and the more he -does the more will he delight to do, because -love tells nothing is lost that a good friend -gets.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" ><a id="p306"></a> -<img src="images/p306.jpg" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> <span class="smcap">Elijah Kellogg at Eighty.</span><br />1893.</div> -</div> - - -<p>There are people before me to-night whom -I began to love forty years ago. Do I love -them less? Is the affection worn out? No; -it is worn in. Then it was in the bark, but -now it has got into the heart of the tree.</p> - -<p>Here, also, are the children and grandchildren -of those who are not, for God has taken -them, and the affection I bore their parents -clings to the children. It is not worn out, -because love is stronger than death. Many -waters cannot quench love, neither can floods -drown it. Or if a man would give all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> -substance of his house for love, it would -utterly be contemned. It is love that -makes home, love that makes friends in the -world, love that makes heaven, for God -is love.</p> - -<p>What has brought all these friends together -to-night? They did not come to get, but to -give, not with their hands shut up, but with -both hearts and hands wide open. They have -come to gratify their feelings of neighborly -friendship and affection; for if they did not -thus gratify those feelings, they would not -enjoy what they had left. Ought I not to -be grateful to be the recipient of so much -good-will, kindness, and neighborly affection? -I trust it will be an encouragement to render -me more faithful to your souls’ best interests, -to work for you and seek your good; to pray -that God, who loves the cheerful giver, will -reward and bless you.</p> - -<p>There were never two persons in this world -who loved each other but wanted and loved -to eat together, and there were never two -enemies who did. There were never two -persons who loved each other, loved God, -but who loved and wanted to pray together. -We have eaten together; we have enjoyed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> -each other’s society; recalled the feelings of -other and happier days, before toil had stiffened -our limbs, sorrow entered our hearts, or -tears trembled on our eyelids; now let us pray -together before we separate.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="THE_DELUDED_HERMIT" id="THE_DELUDED_HERMIT"></a>THE DELUDED HERMIT</h3> - -<p class="center"><small>[Delivered at “Donation Party,” October 1, 1895]</small></p> - - -<p>In the ancient days, after the early Christian -fathers who succeeded the Apostles had -departed, religion degenerated into superstition. -There arose under the influence of the -Roman Catholic Church a class of hermits, -anchorites, and devotees who thought that -heaven and holiness were to be obtained by -torturing and denying the flesh; that by -secluding themselves from society, by fastings -and watchings, they might escape temptation -and sin and live nearer to God and -merit the divine favor.</p> - -<p>In the North Sea are a group of islands -belonging to Denmark, sixteen in number, -called the Färöe Isles, some of which are of -considerable size and inhabited, others mere -patches of rocks and turf. Upon one of these, -which is a mere sand spit flung up by the sea, -a hermit had taken up his residence. His<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> -dwelling was built of the stones of the place, -and the entrance was so low that he went in -and came out on his knees. When the door -was closed, it was lighted by an opening in -the top which permitted a view of the sky, of -the sun when far advanced in the heavens, -of the moon and the stars, but not of the -earth. Here this pious but deluded saint -passed his days in prayer, meditation, frequent -fasting, and reading the Bible. His -food was brought to him by the inhabitants -of the neighboring islands who greatly revered -him for his holiness and sought his -prayers for themselves and their household. -He imagined that if he could see only the -heavens, he should become less earthly; that -by cutting himself off from the sins, the cares, -and the labors of worldly and sinful men and -being alone with God, he should make great -advance in holiness. Poor deluded man! If, -when he looked upon the heavens, the sun, the -moon, and the stars, he had only taken a reasonable -and scriptural view of the purpose for -which they were created, he would have perceived -that it was for the good of others they -were created, to declare the glory of God to a -universe, to cause grass to grow for cattle, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> -herbs for the use of man; that for six thousand -years they had been holding to all the -nations of the earth their high and perpetual -discourse of the wisdom, power, and goodness -of God, who openeth His liberal hand and satisfieth -the desire of every living thing. Such -reflections would have taught him that if, -instead of spending his life and energies, and -consuming soul and body, in prayers and meditations -that began and ended in themselves, he -had taken a portion of his time to keep the fire -burning on his own hearthstone, and then gone -forth among those islanders and told them -of God and Christ and the duties they owed, -given them the benefit of and shared with -them his wisdom and holiness, and taught -them to love God and each other, it would -have been more acceptable to God, and in -blessing he would have been blessed. This -mistaken man imagined he was crucifying -sin when he was only crucifying the natural -affections and sympathies God had given him -to be gratified for his own good and that of -others. Man was not made to live in a state -of isolation, but in fellowship with his kind. -The human heart craves sympathy just as -naturally as the vine stretches its tendrils to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> -clasp some friendly prop, and, failing to reach -it, droops and withers and bears no fruit. He, -who is the centre of many loving hearts, -whose interests, joys, and sorrows are his and -his theirs, is stronger and happier than he who -treads the brier-planted path of life alone, with -no one to lean upon and share the burden or the -conflict with him. We were made to find our -happiness in the happiness of others. When -is a gift valuable? When it is a part of the -heart of him who bestows it. That which -makes the gifts I receive upon occasions like -this of priceless value to me is that they come -from those with whom I have lived in love -and sympathy so long that they have become -part of myself. The Saviour has said -it is more blessed to give than to receive. It -is more blessed to give than to receive. It is -more gratifying to be able to bestow favors -than to be obliged to receive them. It is -more like our Maker. He never receives anything, -for all things are His. He is the universal -giver.... May He who gives us all -things reward you in your persons and in your -households, and grant you that which He sees -is best for your happiness both here and hereafter.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="HOME" id="HOME"></a>HOME</h3> - -<p class="center"><small>[Delivered at “Donation Party,” October 19, 1897]</small></p> - - -<p>The sweetest word that ever trembled on -human lips is the word “home.” It embraces -and concentrates in itself the germs of -a thousand forces of happiness, power, and -progress yet to be developed from it. So long -as man wanders, and, like the savage, merely -gathers what grows of itself from the soil, or -captures the fish of the streams, the birds of -the air, and the beasts that roam the forests, -he makes no progress; he bestows no labor -upon, and therefore takes no interest in, that -abode which he is to abandon to-morrow. It -is only when he has a permanent dwelling -and produces something from the earth that -progress, happiness, and the home relation -begin. Home is the place where character -is built, where sacrifices to contribute to the -happiness of others are made, and where love -has taken up its abode. Love is the strongest -passion of our natures and finds its happiness<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span> -in sacrificing for its object; the parent for the -child, the child for the parent, the sister for -the brother. In this relation they are in the -best possible position for moral and intellectual -development; they stimulate and call out -each other’s powers, energies, and affections.</p> - -<p>Infinite wisdom has declared, “It is not -good for man to be alone.” There is not a -more unsightly or unprofitable tree than a -white pine growing alone. It is a mass of -knots, knobs, short-jointed, crooked, and wind-shaken,—in -short, a scrub. The lumbermen -in contempt call it a bull pine. But put a -thousand of them together as near as they can -grow. What a change! As you enter that -majestic cathedral no sunbeam can pierce, and -look up at those heights,—trees straight as an -arrow seventy feet to a limb,—you almost feel -like uncovering in reverence. Thus with the -family relation. The happiest homes are those -the members of which are frequently called -to sacrifice something or to deny themselves -something for the others’ comforts and happiness. -It is this that sweetens home. It is -those who bear the burdens of life together, -relying upon and trusting in each other, who -get the most out of life, bear its trials without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> -being soured by them, and rear children who -arise and call them blessed—children that -have real manhood—who can look danger -in the eye without quailing and grapple to -severe tasks without wilting, and are nobody’s -servants.</p> - -<p>It is evident that home is not mere locality, -that it is not defined by metes and bounds. -From Gibraltar to Archangel, from Calcutta -to the frozen seas, there are homes. One -principle, one fruit-bud produces them all. -Home is not a thing that can be bought or -sold in the market. You may buy a homestead -or a house, you may perhaps buy a wife, -but you cannot buy a woman’s love. Costly -furniture, rich dresses, retinues of servants, -and luxurious dishes do not make homes. It -is not the residence but the affection of the -occupants that constitutes the home. Those -who are united in the bonds of a true affection -behold themselves reflected in each other, and -each is to the other as another self. In the -confidence of love there is repose.</p> - -<p>My friends and neighbors, this assembly is -made up of those who have been reared and -have reared others in homes where parental -love and filial affection were the mainsprings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> -of action and the foundation of charitable and -friendly acts. The desire to share with others -the gifts a kindly Providence bestows on ourselves -is bred in the atmosphere of home. All -the sweet charities of life are but the overflow -of these feelings and sympathies born and -bred at the domestic hearthstone.</p> - -<p>I thank you, my friends and neighbors, for -the gifts of affection bestowed this night, and -may the blessing of God rest upon yourselves, -your children, and your homes.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a><br /><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span></p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a><br /><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span></p> - -</div><div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="SERMONS" id="SERMONS"></a>SERMONS</h2> - - -<h3><a name="THE_PRODIGALS_RETURN"></a>THE PRODIGAL’S RETURN</h3> - -<p>Text: Luke xv. 18, 20. “<i>I will arise and -go to my father.</i>” “<i>But when he was yet a -great way off, his father saw him, and had -compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and -kissed him.</i>”</p> - - -<p>The Saviour, by a beautiful and affecting -story, illustrates the natural and inevitable result -of a sinful course, a course of ingratitude -and disobedience to God. We have placed -before us the life of a Hebrew patriarch. In -that land now so barren beneath the curse of -God and the curse of a despotic government, but -once so full of beauty and blossoming, when -the Chosen People clothed its now barren -mountain peaks with clambering vines and its -valleys with waving grass and grain, dwelt a -Hebrew, a righteous man among the kindred -of his people, to whom God had given goodly -land, and flocks and herds in abundance, whose -tents stretched far over the plains, and who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> -had servants born in his house. This man had -two sons, one of whom was much older than -the other. It was a pleasant household; the -father was kind and affectionate to his servants -and to the poor,—a just man, fearing -God and tenderly attached to his children.</p> - -<p>As the two brothers were different in their -age, so were they in their dispositions. The -elder son was sober, industrious, and found in -the care of the flocks and the quiet enjoyments -of rural life enough to occupy and interest -him. The father could put confidence -in him, could go away from home and leave -all his business to his care, sure that it would -be completed as if he himself were present. -But though sober, industrious, and trustworthy, -and held by the restraints of his education, -yet he was not of an affectionate and generous -nature, but penurious and severe in his temper, -and much more feared and respected than beloved -by his servants and his equals. But the -younger son was the very opposite. He was -full of life and energy, but fickle and restless, -and directed his energies to no good purpose. -He cared nothing for business nor for cattle. -He would not remain at home, but wandered -from tent to tent and from vineyard to vine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span>yard -and into the distant city; the farm life -was dull and distasteful to him. His father -could put no trust in him. If so be that his -father went from home and left him in charge -of the flocks and the servants, he was sure to -find on his return that the flocks had strayed, -that some of them had been lost or devoured -by the wolves, or to find his son frolicking with -the servants instead of directing their labor. -Thus while he could trust the elder son with -everything, he could trust the younger with -nothing, and must always watch him with constant -anxiety.</p> - -<p>Yet, with all his faults, the younger son was -generous and affectionate, keen to perceive -and understand, and of great determination to -accomplish when he was so minded. The -father often said to himself: “Oh, that my son -would only do well! How much comfort and -honor would he be to me! And how much -good he might accomplish!” Indeed, it -seemed ofttimes that the boy could not help -his wrong-doing; his wild, frolicsome, headstrong -nature did so hurry him along. Afterward -he would be sorry and even shed tears, -and then go straightway and do the same -again. Yet was the heart of the father more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> -after this wild slip of a boy than after the -other.</p> - -<p>There is in the heart of the parent a principle, -not possible perhaps to be explained, -which leads him to be more attached to and -indulgent of the youngest child. There is -something also in the very anxiety that the -follies of the disobedient child occasion which -calls out and fosters the affections of the parent -more strongly for him than for the one who -never gives that cause for uneasiness. The -father also felt that the boy, though carried -away by the impulses of his own imaginations -and the romance of his nature and spirit, was -after all of deeper affections and nobler impulses -and greater capacity than the other son, -and had in him all the raw material of a noble, -useful character, could this impetuous spirit -and these burning impulses be subdued, not -destroyed, and these energies wisely directed. -Many a bitter tear he shed, and many a prayer -he put up to God for this child of his love and -his old age.</p> - -<p>Matters went on in this way from bad to -worse, the son becoming more and more discontented -and uneasy. He listened to the -tales of travellers who had been to distant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[Pg 325]</a></span> -lands and over the sea till his blood boiled, and -he said to himself: “Shall I never see anything -but these same hills and valleys? Shall -I never hear any discourse but about sheep -and goats and fleeces of wool and cheese and -barley? Shall I never see anything of the -great world of which I hear so much? Must -I stay here and milk goats when there is so -much pleasure in the world to be enjoyed?” -But now the time draws near when he shall -be of age and his own master to go where -he pleases. How he has been counting the -days and reckoning up the time when he shall -escape the restraints of home! No sooner has -the time arrived than he goes to his father -and says to him, “Father, give me so much -of your property as belongs to me, my share.” -He does not ask it as a gift, but as a debt -which the father was under obligations to pay -him. What right had he to demand anything -of the father? Had it been his elder brother -who made this demand, who for many years -after he was of age had labored hard and -given the proceeds of his labor into the common -stock, there would have been some justice -in the request. But this man had never done -anything, had spent all he could get, had tried<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[Pg 326]</a></span> -his father to the utmost, and now had the assurance -to come to his father and say: “Such -a part of the property belongs to me. I want -it, that I may go where I like and spend it as -I wish.” He had been so long in the habit of -receiving from his father without effort of his -own that he had come to consider it as a matter -of right.</p> - -<p>The father was pained by this ungrateful -conduct, and the prodigal in his own heart felt -ashamed of himself; in the bottom of his -heart he loved and respected his father, but -the love of pleasure, his lofty imaginations of -the enjoyments to be found in the world of -which he had read, heard, and dreamed so -much, overpowered all other feelings. Could -he only escape from the restraints of home -and obtain money and means to gratify his -desires, he should be happy. The father without -any reproach divides his living and gives -to him his share. He has never seen so much -money before in his life. He is mad with -joy. He thinks it will never be exhausted. -He can hardly stop to bid good-by to his family, -to his father whose heart aches to see this -son of his love so glad to leave him. He takes -his journey into a far country, just as far from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[Pg 327]</a></span> -home as he can get, that his friends may not -be able to know what he is doing or to trouble -him with advice. He’s had advice enough. -He’s had enough of home. He’s going to try -the world. Now he gives loose rein to all his -lusts. He is soon surrounded by a circle of -generous, jovial companions who would die -for him; who every day pledge him health -and happiness in the social glass; who, so far -from troubling him with advice, tell him he is a -noble-hearted, princely fellow, and that everything -he says and does is just right. How -much better they are than his father’s old, -stupid, hard-working servants, or than his -sober brother who thought only of sheep and -begrudged him every cent, or than his father -who was always telling him about the temptations -of life! These noble, large-hearted fellows -tell him money is made to spend and life -is made to enjoy.</p> - -<p>While he is thus going onward in the pursuit -of pleasure, there comes a famine in the -land. The prices of food rise to a fearful extent. -His money is exhausted, and he is -amazed to find that his friends so kind begin -to cool in their affections just in proportion -as his means diminish. He finds that, so far<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[Pg 328]</a></span> -from dying for him, their intention is to live -upon him till he has nothing left and then reproach -him for his extravagance. The friend -who begged him to make his house his home, -just as though he were in his own father’s -house, intimates that times are very hard and -every one must look out for himself. Hunger -succeeds and rags. He who never had a serious -thought before is serious enough now. He -who never bestowed a thought upon food or -raiment must now find food or perish. In -his necessity he resorts to the house of a -farmer and with humble tone begs work. He -who demanded of his father the property he -had never earned a dollar of begs for the -meanest employment that may keep him -from starving! The farmer tells him that -he may go into his fields and feed swine and -eat a morsel with the servants in the kitchen. -But the servants’ fare is scanty, just sufficient -to preserve life. In the morning after taking -his morsel, he goes with a heavy heart to his -work. What a contrast! He thought his -home lonesome; but where and what is he -now? All around him the land is scorched, -the streams are dry, the trees leafless. He -thought it hard to feed cattle; he must now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[Pg 329]</a></span> -feed hogs and beg for the privilege. Corn is -so scarce that the swine can have only the -husks, and he is so hungry that he would fain -fill himself with the husks that the swine eat -and no man gives unto him. Not one of all -his former friends upon whom he has spent -so much will give him a crust.</p> - -<p>He now comes to himself; for the first time -in his life he begins to think. He thinks of -his kind old father, of his home where there -is plenty. He says, “How many servants of -my father have bread enough and to spare, -and I perish with hunger!” He says, “Shall -I go home?” Pride whispers: “Go home? -How can I look upon my father’s face, on my -brother who was always steady and industrious, -and the old neighbors? My very looks -will tell what I am, and where I have been, -and what I have been doing. No, I won’t -go home. I can’t go home. I will starve to -death first.” But it is much easier to talk -about starving than it is to starve. Hunger -and poverty are hard masters. Long is the -struggle, terrible. At length he decides. “I -will go while I have strength enough left to -get there. ’I will arise and go to my father, -and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[Pg 330]</a></span> -against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no -more worthy to be called thy son.’” And -before his resolution has time to cool, he sets -out on his journey.</p> - -<p>How truly and strikingly does this illustrate -the condition of one who wanders from -God, and breaks the commands and deserts -the house of his Father in heaven. A young -man has grown up the inmate of a Christian -family, but God has created him. His abilities -of body and mind are from God. The -property which he acquires, the ability to -obtain it, and the opportunity and the time -are God’s ability, God’s property, God’s time. -God declares that by using these in his service, -he shall be happy in life, and in eternity -receive the crown of glory. But these commands -are not agreeable to him any more than -the commands of the father were to the prodigal. -He does not feel that his abilities and -happiness are the gift of God, that he is under -any obligation to his Father in heaven. In -the flush of youth and health and hot blood, -he feels that his strength is the strength of -stones and his flesh brass. He says to his -heavenly, as the prodigal to his earthly, -Father, “Give me the portion of goods that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[Pg 331]</a></span> -falleth to me.” He feels that they are his -own to use as he pleases, and thus he means -to do; though like the prodigal all the return -he has ever made to God is to sin against Him. -He loves not to think of God and eternity and -Christ and sin. So, like the son in the parable, -he goes into a far country.</p> - -<p>It is not literal space that is here meant; -it is the distance of thought and feeling and -affections and obedience. A man need not go -out of his country to get far from God. At -home, in the practice of all the outward duties -of morality, regular in the attendance upon -the sanctuary, he may yet live as far from -God, as unwilling to submit to His commands, -as though living in the most disorderly manner -and in open sin. But whether on the -ocean and in foreign lands he lives in sin -and spends his substance in riotous living -and looks everywhere among all forbidden -pleasures for happiness, or on the land conceals -a proud heart under a correct life, the -result is that he is wretched, finds no peace. -But now the Spirit of God touches his heart, -leads him to reflect upon his true condition. -He comes to himself. “I have broken the -laws. I have grieved thy spirit. I deserve<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[Pg 332]</a></span> -not the least of thy mercies. Do with me -what seemeth good in thy sight.” But then -the thought arises,—and it is a bitter one,—”How -can I go into the presence of that -pure and holy God? I, so vile a sinner, who -have blasphemed His name! Can such a -sin be forgiven?”</p> - -<p>Let us now consider the reception the son -meets with. It is noontide, the time of -burning heat. The cattle have sought the -groves and the cool places of the hills, or -are standing in the running streams beneath -the tall reeds of the jungles. The goats seek -the clefts of the rocks. In his tent door, beneath -the drooping branches of a sycamore -that screen it from the sun, sits an aged patriarch. -On his face is that submissive look that -neither tongue nor pen can describe, and that -tells of high and holy communion with God. -All around is peace inviting to repose. The -faint breath of the dying breeze is gently -rustling the leaves mingling with the hum -of bees and the low murmur of a distant -brook. The servants are sleeping in the -shadow. But the old patriarch slumbers not -with his slumbering servants. On his meek -face is a troubled look, and now and then a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[Pg 333]</a></span> -silent tear steals down his cheek and falls -upon his clasped hands. He is thinking of -his absent, dearly loved, wayward child! -From the past he argues disastrously of the -future. If so headstrong and reckless under -the mild restraint of home, what will become -of him when all check is removed? Where -is he, on sea or on land, this child of many -prayers, many counsels, and bitter anxieties? -Is he living in riot and folly, or is he already -in suffering and distress, having not where to -lay his head? Has he remembered any of -the words of affectionate counsel that have -been spoken to him? Do his thoughts ever -turn toward his home and the friends of -his youth?</p> - -<p>While the good father is thus sitting in his -tent door praying for and thinking of his son, -he sees a traveller far off upon the plains, so -far that he just discerns him. He thinks, -What if that should be my son? So he steps -out from the tent door and he looks long and -eagerly, for the traveller comes slowly. But -as he approaches, the father sees he is lame, -footsore, and ragged, and his heart tells him: “This is just the condition in which I might -expect my son to come. Ah, yes, that is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[Pg 334]</a></span> -he.” And instantly the father runs to meet -him.</p> - -<p>But what are the feelings of the prodigal as -he draws near his native country and the old -familiar features of the landscape strike his -eye, and he sees in the distance his father’s -tent and the old trees under whose shadows -he played when a boy? How does he feel? -He does not feel one-half the resolution he -did when he set out. His hope which at first -sustained him begins to waver. He does not -feel so much confidence now as he did when -he was farther off. He begins to think of his -rags, and the appearance he makes. He goes -into the thicket and washes his face in the -brook and sleeks up his rags, and tries to make -himself look decent and respectable to meet -his father. But it is no use. Wherever he -touches them they tear and finally fall off -altogether, they are so rotten. At length he -gives up in despair and says: “Well, I must -go as I am, miserable wretch. I can’t make -myself any better; the more I try the worse -I look. There’s nothing to make decency out -of. Oh! what will my father say to me, miserable? -God help me!”</p> - -<p>While he is thus talking and going along,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[Pg 335]</a></span> -he sees his father in the tent door. “Oh,” -he says, “there is my father now!” Then he -stops right short in the road and looks down -upon the ground, and is of a good mind to -turn back and run away. But while he is -hesitating, his father comes running and falls -right on his neck and kisses him. And when -he feels his old father’s arms embracing him, -his lips on his cheeks, and his tears on his -neck,—oh, that is the worst of all. Then his -heart is like to break with sorrow. He did -not expect such treatment as this. If his -father had only reproached him and said, “You -vile, wicked boy, is this what you have come -to?” he could bear that better. But this -kindness and love,—it quite breaks his heart. -Then as soon as he can find voice for tears, -he slips out of his father’s arms and falls down -on his knees and says: “’Father, I have sinned -against heaven and before thee, and am no -more worthy to be called thy son.’ Don’t call -me son; it breaks my heart. Make me thy -servant, thy slave. Thou didst give me a -goodly fortune which I never earned a dollar -of. I have spent it all in folly, wasted thy -substance, and disgraced thy name in foreign -lands wherever I have been. I come here in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[Pg 336]</a></span> -wretchedness and rags to disgrace thee still -more among the neighbors that know thee and -thy goodness. Now, Father, let me be thy -servant and serve thee, that I may earn thee -something to atone for spending thy property -and to show that I am really sorry.” But -the father will hear nothing of all this, and -while he is speaking, cuts him short, saying -to the servants who stand wondering, “Bring -forth the best robe; take off his rags; wash his -sores; put a ring on his hands, and shoes on -his feet: and bring hither the fatted calf and -kill it; for this my son was dead, and is alive -again; he was lost, and is found.”</p> - -<p>Thus it is with the returning and repentant -sinner. When he is far from God and is first -drawn by the Spirit and assured by revelations -of His mercy, he with considerable courage -begins to seek and pray. But as he comes -nearer and the light from the Excellent Glory -grows stronger, and he sees more of his sins, -he begins to doubt and to falter. But when God -sees him thus afar off, sees a little love in his -heart, He comes to meet him. He puts the -robe of Christ upon him and gives to him the -signet ring.</p> - -<p>My dear friends who are out of Christ, you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[Pg 337]</a></span> -are away from home. You are perishing. -You have no food for your souls. You will -die and be lost. Why sit here and perish -in a foreign land? Why feed on husks when -you may have the choicest of the wheat? There -is bread enough in your father’s house. Many -have gone there; more are on the road; others -are coming. Won’t you join the goodly company? -Be resolute. Say, “I will.” Be resolute -as in the emergencies of life and business; -as when the lee shore is on one side and the -gale on the other, and the seaman presses the -canvas on the cracking spars and the straining -rigging, and the ship must carry it or be -dashed upon the breakers; be resolute as when -one sees his friend perishing in the water -and says, “I will save him or die with -him.”</p> - -<p>My dear hearers, won’t you say: “I will go. -Nothing shall keep me back from my Saviour. -Sins nor fears nor devils shall not stop me. I -will try if I die. I know that God is merciful.”</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[Pg 338]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="WRESTING_THE_SCRIPTURES" id="WRESTING_THE_SCRIPTURES"></a>WRESTING THE SCRIPTURES</h3> - -<p>The Second Epistle of Peter, Chapter III, -part of 16th verse. “<i>In which are some -things hard to be understood, which they that -are unlearned and unstable wrest, as they do -also the other Scriptures, unto their own -destruction.</i>”</p> - - -<p>In speaking from this text I might dilate -upon the etymology of the words “unlearned” -and “unstable.” I might go on to observe -that we must take the Bible as a whole and -be taught of the Spirit in order to practice -its plain truths and fathom its more difficult -ones; that as in the schools of human science -the elementary text-books are simple while -those designed for the advanced classes are -more abstruse, thus the Bible contains many -things which are now far beyond the reach of -our minds, but to the comprehension of which -we shall clamber up in eternity; that in the -Bible, the book of time and eternity, the two<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[Pg 339]</a></span> -volumes are bound in one. Here we only -read the preface and the introduction; in the -hereafter we shall peruse the whole of the -book.</p> - -<p>But as these themes are frequently discussed -with more of learning than I can presume -to bring to the task, I shall pursue a -less beaten path and content myself with -observing that to “wrest” a thing signifies to -wrench or twist it from its true position; the -very word implies violence. Thus to wrest a -truth of Scripture signifies to detach it from -the other truths of the system, to make it bear -a false meaning, or to rob it of all meaning. -A truth of Scripture thus wrested is no longer -a truth, and is, therefore, of no avail to the -man who has wrested it. It can do him no -good; he can no more get to heaven with it -than a man who should tear a plank or a -breast-hook from a ship could cross the Atlantic -upon it. But as there are capillary veins -and nerves in the bodily organization which -discharge important though minute functions, -and becoming diseased affect larger vessels -and tissues, the consequence of which is sickness, -and the result death, so there are methods -of wresting the Scriptures less violent but not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[Pg 340]</a></span> -less fatal in their consequences. So great, my -friends, is the evil bias of our nature and so -deceitful is the human heart that we are prone -to deceive ourselves, imagining that we are -doing the will of God while we are doing -our own will, obeying while we are wresting -the Scriptures. This principle, following the -example of Jesus of Nazareth, I will illustrate -by a parable.</p> - -<p>In that never-to-be-forgotten year when the -Pilgrim Fathers of New England rose up from -their knees beneath the cliffs of Holland and -embarked, there dwelt, where Derwent-Water -pours its swift current into the black gorges -of a lonely tarn, the descendant of a house, -rich in ancestral memories and renowned in -arms. Often had these massive walls rung -to the battle clarion and its floors echoed to -the tread of mail-clad men. But their descendant, -though inheriting all the lofty heroism -of his race, is, with a heart subdued by grace, -a man of scholarly tastes, of peace, and of -God.</p> - -<p>Amid the family circle where are the mother -that reared, the wife that cherishes him, and -the children who climb his knees, he lives, -labors, and prays. “Surely,” said some looker<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[Pg 341]</a></span> -at the outward appearance, “this man does not -serve God for naught. Has not God made a -hedge about him and all that he has? He -would have his good things in both lives. Is -he willing to sacrifice anything? Would he -do anything with the Cross of Christ other -than build it into the masonry of his castles -or inscribe it upon the banner folds of his -vassals?” Let us see.</p> - -<p>He enters his library, a room of antique -mould; the roof groined and blazoned reflects -a thousand hues of soft light from lamps of -fretted gold. The thickly carpeted floor returns -no echo to the footfall. View him as -he stands beneath that mellow light: The -face is the face of a prophet. The pure white -brow, which no hardship has bronzed and -around which the locks of early manhood are -clustering, is as radiant with goodness as -heaven’s own light. The eyes suffused, not -dimmed, by that mist which is the forerunner -of tears, are turned toward heaven, while -from their calm depths, pure as those through -which wanders the light of stars, beam glances -of gentle affection, a humility not assumed but -ingrained like the summer flush upon the cheek -of a ripened grape. The strong, firm lips<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[Pg 342]</a></span> -are slightly parted with an expression of -purpose and action; motionless they seem -to utter, “Father, what wilt Thou have me -to do?”</p> - -<p>Thoughtful he stands, then bows that stately -head in deep contrition before God. He kneels, -indeed, upon an embroidered cushion, but it is -wet with tears. This man of noble blood and -old descent, who sayeth “to this man ’Go,’ -and he goeth, and to another ’Come,’ and he -cometh,” grovels in the dust before his Maker. -In his anguish he prostrates himself upon the -floor; he cannot get low enough before his -God. It is in his heart to embark with the -Pilgrims, and he asks counsel of Heaven: “Father, wilt Thou that I leave these towers -of my ancestors, moistened with their blood -and beneath whose shadows their bones lie -mouldering, and my mother now in the wane -of life? Wilt Thou that I should take the -wife of my bosom, my little ones reared in -luxury and with tenderness, that I myself -ever having lived and loved among the -gifted and the great should go forth with my -brethren to the wilderness? Tell me, O my -Father, that it is my duty, and I will fling -my whole estate into thy treasury as will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[Pg 343]</a></span>ingly -as ever prodigal wasted his in riotous -living; I will venture my life and the lives of -those dearer to me than my own as readily as -ever one of my warrior ancestors laid lance -in rest to break a hedge of spears. Thou -knowest that I love mother, wife, and children, -comfort, refinement, wealth; that life is -sweet to the lusty and the young. Thou -knowest how dear to me are these old trees -beneath which in childhood I played, these -swelling hills, these gently sloping vales, this -fair stream whose gleam I love at the sunset -hour to catch through green foliage and to -whose murmur I love to listen, this chosen -retreat filled with books that embalm the lore -of centuries whither I may retire after drinking -a thousand inspirations from without, and -in silent prayer and thought make them my -own, growing in the reaches of my lonely -thought to greater affluence of progress and -power. But I love Thee, O Lord Jesus Christ, -my Saviour, more than these; therefore let me -go. Already my brother and my kindred -deem that I shrink from sacrifice and thus -shall thy name be dishonored through me. -Thou lovest me not, else wouldst Thou -chasten me, wouldst permit me to endure<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[Pg 344]</a></span> -hardness. Surely I am a bastard and no son. -He that never suffered never loved.”</p> - -<p>But while thus he prays and pleads, a voice -from the Excellent Glory whispers to his soul: “I know thou lovest me. Yet shalt thou not -embark. In Abraham I accepted the full purpose -and the firm intent; so will I in regard -to thee. I have in reserve for thee tasks as -stern, and sacrifices as great, as the forests of -America can furnish, tasks for which I created -thee and gave thee thy capacities. Thy forefathers -were men of brawn, but thou art a -man of mind. Have not I chosen the men -who are to go? Their flesh is hard, their -bones are strong to bear the harness, and -their whole course of thought is of a sterner -cast, better fitted than thine to bear the sword -and set the battle in array. It is not my will -that the fire shall die upon the ancient altars; -remain thou to quicken its flame. I will not -that thy mother, that old saint who hath -reared her household in the nurture and admonition -of the Lord, shall in her old age -lack the protection of the son best fitted of -all her race to cherish her declining years; for -I am a covenant-keeping God. Remain, therefore, -to lay thy hand upon her eyes. Learn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[Pg 345]</a></span>ing, -eloquence, and passing knowledge to -bend the minds of men of all ranks to thy -wish are thine. Go then into the councils -of the nation, there to use thy power for me, -to moderate the fierceness of persecution and -send succor to those who are to go forth with -the wolf and the bear to the hillside. There -are keener pangs than those born of flowing -blood and stiffening wounds on lonely battlefields, -gashes deeper than the tomahawk and -the scalping knife can make, wrestlings more -terrible than those with flesh and blood. Fear -not that thou shalt lack occasions to prove thy -zeal. Thou shalt find all the sunny memories -of thy life turned to gall. The church to -whose altar thy mother had thee linked with -all the sweet memories of thy childhood shall -close to thee its doors. Thy children shall be -excluded from those seats of learning where -their kindred and their mates resort. And -thou must endure all these things being -among them, and thus the iron will be -pressed into thy soul day by day, which is -more terrible than to endure in a foreign land -where thou art equal to thy fellows in suffering -and in privilege. These are sterner trials -to the flesh and to the faith, than when war<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[Pg 346]</a></span> -horses are neighing and clarions sounding to -the charge, and the maddening rush and roar -of conflict impart the very courage they require -to rush on perils and set thy life upon -a cast. Over the wreck of chosen thoughts -and blighted hopes, through the anguish of -susceptibilities which refinement and culture -have made capacious of suffering of which -under natures are incapable, shalt thou glorify -me.” Yet how many a short-sighted onlooker -at that day, unable to appreciate the inward -motive, judged him who remained as shrinking -from the reproach of the Cross and wresting -the Scriptures to suit a carnal policy and -the love of ease.</p> - -<p>Let us view this principle in yet another -light. In a distant apartment of the same -castle is seated one whose features, though of -a stronger and sterner cast, browned by toils -and exposure on fields of battle, still bear -that family resemblance which denotes them -brothers. But his limbs are cast in nature’s -stronger mould, and his hand turns naturally -to the sword hilt. Upon his knees is a -bundle of letters that he peruses with eager -interest. They are from the exiles in Holland, -informing him of the time of their departure,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[Pg 347]</a></span> -and urging him to join them. And among -the letters are some from his old companions -in the war of the low countries. Wrapped in -thought the hours pass by him unheeded. At -length, rising suddenly to his feet and thrusting -open the door that leads to the great hall -of the castle, he paces the stone floor. His -eye kindles as it glances over the portraits of -grim warriors and the proud trappings that -adorn its walls. He stops in his lofty stride, -a frown gathers upon his brow, his hand grips -to the hilt of the sword at his side. He has -made up his mind. His is the giant strength -and haughty pride of an heroic line. Retiring -to his chamber, he likewise kneels to pray, -while the frown of anticipated conflicts and -the flush of stirring memories have scarce yet -faded from his brow. But there is no tremor -in the hard tones of his voice, none of those -bitter tears that wet the pillow of the other -fall from his eyes. There is no breaking down -of the strong man before Him who is stronger -than the strong man armed. But he prays -like Henry the Fifth at Agincourt or Bruce -at Bannockburn. To carry his point he prays “my will be done” with the spirit of those -who inscribed upon the muzzles of their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[Pg 348]</a></span> -cannon, “O Lord, open thou my lips; and my -mouth shall shew forth thy praise.”</p> - -<p>This man has condescended to help God. -Through the long tempestuous voyage, those -fearful months of mingled famine and plague -when the icy breath of winter penetrated even -to the pillows of the dying, and the Pilgrims -drove the ploughshare through the graves of -those most dear to them lest the savage should -count the dead and ascertain their weakness, -he passed unbroken. Neither hunger nor sickness -bows his iron frame nor breaks his -haughty spirit, and yet, unknown to himself, -he is all the while wresting the truths of -Scripture, and deems he is doing the will of -God while he is consulting his own inclinations. -Is the discipline of Providence therefore -to waste itself upon this rugged nature, -only to be repelled like the surf from the -rock, in broken wreaths of foam? Will he -never become as a little child that he may -enter into the kingdom?</p> - -<p>Yes. His daughter is dying. The daughter, -the only remaining member of a once -numerous household, whom he loves with an -affection the more absorbing since he loves -nothing else, to whom he has given the scanty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[Pg 349]</a></span> -morsel suffering hunger himself, whom he -pressed to his bosom in the long nights of -that terrible winter that she might gather -warmth from his hardier frame, and around -whom cluster all the affections that throb -beneath the crust of his rugged nature, as the -oak wrappeth its roots about the place of -stones,—that daughter is dying. Though it is -now the Indian summer and an abundant harvest -has scattered plenty among the dwellings -of the exiles, his daughter is perishing beneath -the terrible exposure she has endured. Upon -her delicate frame the previous winter and -spring have done their work. Stretched upon -a couch of skins, she is fading like the yellow -and falling leaves that the forest is showering -upon the roof, and the morning breeze is gathering -in little heaps around the threshold of -the rude cabin. The strong man has met one -stronger than himself. The arrow aimed by -no uncertain hand has found the joints of the -harness. A sweet smile begotten of that peace -of God, which passeth all understanding, mingles -with the hectic flush on her cheek; and as -he watches the ebbing tide of life, every sigh -of pain, every frown that furrows the pale -brow, wrung from her by the agony of disso<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[Pg 350]</a></span>lution, -shakes his iron frame. But it is suffering, -not submission. She lifts her finger, and -he is at her side, takes her head upon his broad -shoulder, and his war-worn cheek is pressed to -hers, while the golden locks mingle with his -white hairs like sunbeams reposing upon a -fleecy cloud, as he listens to her low speech.</p> - -<p>“Father, I must soon leave thee.” A hot -tear falling on her cheek is the only reply. “Father,” she says, laying her thin finger -upon a yellow leaf that an eddy of the wind -just then blew in at the open door upon the -bed, “I am like this leaf, almost at my journey’s -end.”</p> - -<p>“I know it, my child,” is the low answer.</p> - -<p>“Canst thou give me up?”</p> - -<p>“I cannot give thee up. Not a drop of my -blood flows in any living being but in thee, -the blood of a noble race. I had thought that -in this new soil, transplanted, the old oak -might flourish with renewed strength; but -over thee, the dearest and the last, is creeping -the shadow of the grave. My sons died -a soldier’s death, and I mourned them as a -soldier should. Thy mother I married as the -great marry, for reasons of state and policy, -but thou with thy gentle ways hast knit thy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[Pg 351]</a></span>self -into my very heart, and I must lay thee -in a nameless grave, and conceal it from the -Indian’s gaze, while thy kindred sleep beneath -sculptured marble and the shadow of proud -banner folds. Thine uncle who thought to -take the journey with us flinched when it -came to the trial, while I have faced pestilence, -treachery, and war. Surely I have -borne a heavy cross, and thus am I rewarded. -God is too hard with me. He has no right -to bereave me in my old age of the only being -I ever truly loved.”</p> - -<p>“Father, whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth.”</p> - -<p>“Dear child, torture me not thus or I shall -go mad.”</p> - -<p>“No, father, but thou wilt go mad if, in -this desperate sorrow, thou dost not win -Heaven’s grace. If thy heart does not break -in penitence, thy brain will reel in madness. -Father, dear father, it becomes me to seek -knowledge of thy gray hairs, and thou art -esteemed by all a man of shrewd counsel. But -to those who, like me, are on the brink of -eternity, there is given a knowledge not of -earth, and through these weak lips the spirit -speaks. Deceive not thyself. Thou hast as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[Pg 352]</a></span> -yet borne no cross, but thou hast wrested the -Scriptures. May it not be to thine own destruction. -Thy spirit could not brook oppression, -and, as thou couldst not resist, so hast -thou fled from it. The perils of exile and -the stormy seas were less terrible to thee than -the foot of the oppressor on thy neck. Thou -wast bred amid the alarms and in the bloody -frays of the border wars; thou hast loved the -clash of steel, and the smoke of battle is as -the breath of thy nostrils. Thou hast been a -man of blood from thy youth up. My uncle -was bred a scholar amid home delights, unused -to scenes of trial and hardship. They -had terrors for him, whereas they had none -for thee. And yet he would have gladly -come with us had he not been forbidden of -Heaven. I heard him pleading with God to -make known to him his duty. That which -would have been to him a real cross but was -none to thee he was willing to take up. But -God has laid upon him a weightier one at -home. Thus hast thou prayed to have thine -own way, hast suffered in accordance with -thine own will, not the will of God. The -cross, the real cross, is now before thee. Wilt -thou take it up? If thou dost not do this,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[Pg 353]</a></span> -father, whither I go thou canst not come. -For nineteen years thou hast anticipated my -slightest wish. Wilt thou now refuse my -last request? I, a timid maid, a daughter of -affluence and luxury, who had never listened -to a harsher sound than the murmur of Derwent-Water -over the rocky bed and the breath -of morn among the hills, have broken every -tie, torn from my heart the youth I loved, -because he stood between me and Christ, encountered -perils before which warriors quail, -for the love of Jesus. I have drunk of the -bitter cup, but the cross has brought me to -the crown. I see it. It glitters in the hand -of Christ. Soon it shall press my brow. -Never in the flush of youth and love in my -early home did I know such joy as in this -savage wilderness, this rude hut, and at this -dying hour fills my soul. So will the cross -bring thee to the crown. Dear father, wilt -thou not say, ’Thy will be done’?”</p> - -<p>The words died upon her lips like the murmur -of distant music. Her head which in the -last energies of expiring nature she had raised -from his shoulder fell back, and she passed -away even on his bosom. The red light of -morning fell on that still cold face on which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[Pg 354]</a></span> -the strong man’s tears were showering like -the summer rain, but they were tears of submission. -In that midnight vigil he had lived -years, had fathomed the difference between -doing the will of God when it suited and -when it crossed his inclination, between wresting -and wrenching the Scriptures into conformity -with a haughty spirit and bringing -that spirit into obedience to the truth; between -making a cross to suit ourselves and -then bearing it in our own strength and for -our own glory, and taking up that which -Christ places before us.</p> - -<p>Are we, my dear friends, wresting the Scriptures, -picking and choosing among the commands -of God, and obeying only those that -run parallel with our inclinations? Have you -gone just so far in obeying the commands of -God as fashion and the custom of your acquaintances -would go and stopped short when -duty became self-denial? Have you done just -as little for Christ as you thought could in -any way consist with a fair profession in the -eyes of the world, and have you gone just as -far in the pleasures of the world as you in -your judgment might go and still escape the -fate of the unbeliever?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[Pg 355]</a></span></p> - -<p>Some persons wrest the Scriptures with a -rude force, a noisy and destructive violence, -denying the existence and attributes of their -Maker, and are open scoffers and unbelievers; -but others with a silent, imperceptible force, -unperceived even by themselves, and silent -as the power of frost which lifts the whole -northern continent upon its shoulders. Their -morality, Christian culture, urbanity of deportment, -earnestness in defence of sound doctrine, -private and public charities, are not grounded -on a new heart, but proceed from other motives; -force of education, the restraints of society, the -love of a sect, connection of religion with some -political opinion, and not from the spirit of -love to Christ which it breathes; they spring -from the desire to be reconciled to God by -something less galling to the pride of the -human heart than unconditional surrender. -My friends, receiving the doctrines of Scripture -without obeying their requirements is a -plain and palpable wresting of the Scriptures. -You believe there is a God whose hand rules -the universe, yet you have never bent the knee -to ask for His direction or to thank Him for the -mercies He has bestowed. You believe that -you must strive to enter in at the strait gate,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[Pg 356]</a></span> -yet you have never striven. You believe that -when a person feels in his soul the strivings -of the Holy Spirit directing him to God, -he ought, if he would be saved, to fall in -with and supplement them by his own efforts. -You have felt these strivings, yet you have -never lifted a finger to help yourselves. Is -not this holding the truth in unrighteousness?</p> - -<p>Delay is wresting the Scriptures. God saith, “Now is the accepted time.” Unbelief says, “Will not another time do just as well?” -God says, “To-day if you will hear his voice.” -Procrastination says, “Will not to-morrow do -as well?” God says, “You know not what -a day may bring forth.” The careless hearer -says, “To-morrow shall be as this day and -much more abundant.” Thus you think one -thing and do another. This is not the way -to live, and certainly it is not the way to die. -Remove, I entreat you by faith and repentance, -this strange discrepancy between faith and -practice.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" ><a id="p356"></a> -<img src="images/p356.jpg" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Interior view of Elijah Kellogg’s Church at Harpswell, Maine.</span></div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[Pg 357]</a></span></p> - -</div><div class="chapter"> - - -<h3><a name="THE_BEAUTY_OF_THE_AUTUMN" id="THE_BEAUTY_OF_THE_AUTUMN"></a>THE BEAUTY OF THE AUTUMN</h3> - -<p class="center"><small>[From a sermon to Bowdoin Students, October, 1889.]</small></p> - - -<p>Autumn is a most beautiful and joyous season -of the year; more so even than spring. -The winds are low, and rich with a solemn -music. The days are clear and bright and -have an element of assurance that pertains not -to the changeful skies of April. The air is -bracing and salubrious. The drapery of nature -is gorgeous with the blended beauty of infinite -hues. The crimson and scarlet of the oaks, -the bright yellow of the birch, the bluish -green of the willows contrasted with the brown -and orange of the soil and rocks, are all radiant -in the sunlight and the keen frosty air. -The rich yellow of the corn bursting from the -husk, the loaded stalks swaying heavily in the -October wind, all combine to form a picture -more beautiful, far more satisfactory, than -spring presents. Spring is the season of hope, -yet it is hope deferred. Many unforeseen casu<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[Pg 358]</a></span>alties -may destroy the crop before it is ripe -for the sickle. But harvest is hope realized. -It is the time of taking possession.</p> - -<p>Thus it is with the servant of God. The -autumn of his life is more glorious than its -spring. That was hope; this is reality. Then -a long road beset with perils lay before him; -now they have been passed. Notwithstanding -his trials, life has been sweet. It has not been -altogether toil. He has beheld with open sense -this glorious world and appreciated what the -Creator has done for the happiness of his creatures. -The song of birds, the breath of flowers, -the majesty of seas, and the grandeur of mountains -and of forests, the hope of spring, the -beauty of summer, and the sweet companionship -of kindred hearts, have all been his. But -now he is to possess the source of all that so -delighted him. He is to grasp that unseen -hand that led him when he knew it not, and -held the tangled thread of his daily life. He -is to exchange the stream for the fountain, the -sunbeam for the sun itself. The journey has -not been without much of profit and pleasure, -and the heart of the wayfarer has been cheered -by messages from loved ones, but he would -rather be at home. He who made the flower<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[Pg 359]</a></span> -is lovelier than the flower. He who gave the -grace doth the grace exceed. To sow the seed -and watch its growth has been a hopeful labor, -but it is better to bind the sheaves. Rich are -the fading splendors of the autumn and gorgeous -the dyes in which the Almighty has -decked the departing year. Sweet the murmur -of autumnal winds among the falling leaves -mingling with the deeper cadence of the streams. -But a brighter glory illumines the autumn of -life that has been spent with God and for God. -What language shall describe, what figures -worthily set forth, the maturity of a soul that -in these days of secular knowledge and Gospel -privilege has gathered to itself, with a sanctified -avarice, all that God has taught in the -mighty utterances of nature and the clearer -revelation of His word, that has laid art and -science under contribution and grappled to -every opportunity of intellectual and spiritual -growth, that by trial has been refined, and by -blessings quickened to a higher measure of -gratitude and love.</p> - -<p>Permit one united to you by the college tie -to which time only adds intensity and depth, -who has travelled over the path your feet are -now pressing, who has reached that period of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[Pg 360]</a></span> -life when the tissue of the dream robe has -fallen and when dreams unchilled by truth no -longer minister that maddening fuel to the -feverish blood, permit one to inquire if you -are laying the foundations for such a maturity -as has been described. You are living in a -day that affords opportunity and likewise -compels responsibility. Inspired by such -sentiments, using aright your splendid opportunities -and holding yourself true to your -great responsibilities, may you resemble trees -planted by living waters. May you be enrolled -among the inhabitants of the city that -hath foundations built by God on the banks -of that river</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">“Whose sapphire crested waves in glory roll</div> - <div class="verse">O’er golden sands, and die upon the shore in music.”</div> -</div></div></div> -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[Pg 361]</a></span></p> - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="THE_ANCHOR_OF_HOPE" id="THE_ANCHOR_OF_HOPE"></a>THE ANCHOR OF HOPE</h3> - - - -<p><small>[From a sermon preached at the Second Parish church, -Portland, Maine, on Sunday, August 5, 1900, “Old Home -Week.”]</small></p> - -<p>Hebrews vi. 19. “<i>Which hope we have as -an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, -and which entereth into that within the veil.</i>”</p> - - -<p>The apostle declares that the relation of a -hope in Christ to the soul is the same as that -of the anchor to the ship.</p> - -<p>The value of an anchor in emergencies is -well known. A large ship filled with passengers -is making her passage in midwinter -across the western ocean. As she strikes -soundings the weather thickens. The wind -is easterly; the gale increases; the sea makes; -snow begins to fall; and no pilot is to be -found. But confident, too confident, of his -ability, the master, unwilling to lie off, runs -into the narrow channel of Boston Bay. The -gale increases; the snow thickens. Sail after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[Pg 362]</a></span> -sail is taken in until the ship under short canvas -can no longer hold her own, but makes -leeway continually. Suddenly arises the cry, “Breakers to leeward! Breakers to leeward!” -and the seamen behold the long, -black line of ragged rocks and the white surf -that breaks upon them, where the strongest -ship becomes in a few moments like the chips -and bark that fell from her timbers in framing.</p> - -<p>There is now but one resource. Canvas -can do no more. The navigator’s expedients -are exhausted. There is but one hope left to -cling to. The anchor may bring her up. -With the skill and energy of men working -for their own lives and the lives of those -dependent upon their exertions, the ship is -brought to and the anchors are let go. The -ship trembles as fathom after fathom of massive -chain is jerked through the hawse-holes. -The fire flies from the iron folds that encircle -the windlass, and, as she comes up to that -terrific sea breaking mountains high, taking -it over both shoulders and filling her whole -waist with water, pitching and wallowing till -every stick seems about ready to go out of -her, and the windlass itself to be carried into -the bows, anxious eyes look ahead at the seas<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[Pg 363]</a></span> -and astern at the breakers. A cry is heard: “She drags! She drags! The surf is bringing -the anchors home! They won’t hold!” -Every cheek grows pale and strong men -tremble.</p> - -<p>Presently there is another cry: “Now she -holds! She holds! The anchors have got -her!” And men who have not spoken together -during the voyage embrace each other -for joy. The last link of scope is given; the -chains are weather-bitted; the slatting canvas -is furled; the yards are sharpened to the wind, -and then she lies in that tremendous surf, -whose pitiless diapason drowns every other -sound—two hundred souls depending for -life upon the links of those chains and the -strength and clutch of those anchors.</p> - -<p>Thus with the soul of man. Without the -Christian hope it is a ship without an anchor, -adrift on a stormy sea, at the mercy of its -own passions, the temptations of life, and the -wiles of the devil. These are the tempests -which the soul must meet and struggle with; -and, destitute of the gospel anchor, it must -make shipwreck of faith and a good conscience.</p> - -<p>The anchor is the seaman’s last resort.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[Pg 364]</a></span> -He has many expedients with which to battle -and make head against the tempest, but when -all other methods fail, then the anchor must -bring her up or she is lost.</p> - -<p>Thus the Christian, when all other expedients -fail, when his own strength is but weakness, -flings himself upon the mercy of God, -and moors head and stern to the eternal -promise and the covenants of grace.</p> - -<p>“Which hope we have as an anchor of -the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which -entereth into that within the veil.”</p> - -<p>Many a good ship has been lost, not because -her anchors were insufficient and her ground -tackle poor, not because they were not thrown -clear and the ship properly secured to them, -but because the holding ground was bad,—a -smooth ledge, a soft mud, or loose sand,—insomuch -that the anchors either slip over or -cut through, and the seaman must perish without -any fault of his own. In other places is -found a soft mud or gravel upon the surface -and beneath a strong clay, into which the -anchor beds itself so sure and steadfast that -no wind or sea will bring it home—the best -of holding ground. Such anchorages are -highly prized by seafaring men; they will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[Pg 365]</a></span> -beat up many a mile to windward to gain -an anchor in them.</p> - -<p>Thus the anchor of the soul is both sure -and steadfast, because as the anchor of the -ship goes through the surface mud into the -deep, tenacious clay, it entereth into that -within the veil.</p> - -<p>The Holy of Holies, the most sacred place -in the Jewish temple, was concealed by a veil, -which was rent in twain at the crucifixion. -That event was typical of those inward -spiritual truths which are revealed to the -believer by Christ, and in which his hope -consists. The promises of grace and the -inward witness of the spirit that he is an -heir of those promises through faith in Christ -are the holding ground of the believers’ -anchor, where once bedded it is sure and -steadfast.</p> - -<p>These are inward spiritual joys of which -the believer cannot be deprived except by his -own remissness and the letting down of the -anchor watch. These promises were the -anchor of the apostle’s experience. A rough, -stormy life was his—almost always on a lee -shore and among the breakers. Very little -smooth water did he see, for in every city<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[Pg 366]</a></span> -bonds and imprisonment awaited him; but -he had on board the gospel anchor, and -shackled to it the chain of a rich and deep -experience. The bitter end of that chain was -clinched around the riding bits of his soul; -and he had no fear that the anchor would -come home or the chain part that moored him -to it, and he could say: “O death, where is -thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?”</p> - -<p>Life is the sea; the soul is the vessel; the -grace, gifts, and experience of the soul make -up the priceless cargo with which the ship is -freighted. Heaven is the harbor all hope to -make. The temptations, labor, and afflictions -of life are the tempests we must encounter. -It is a stormy sea and a wintry passage. You -need good ground tackle and good holding -ground. Have you them? If not, it is from -negligence, not necessity. It is, my friend, -because you have not bestirred yourself to -take hold of the promises of grace that have -been pressed upon you.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[Pg 367]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="PRAYER_OFFERED_ON_MEMORIAL_DAY" id="PRAYER_OFFERED_ON_MEMORIAL_DAY"></a>PRAYER OFFERED ON MEMORIAL DAY -(May 30, 1883) AT BRUNSWICK, MAINE</h3> - - -<p>O Thou who art equally supreme in the moral and -the material universe, guiding the sea-bird to her nest -amid the blinding snows, the breaker’s foam, and the -driving mist of ocean, who makest small the drops of -rain, and a way for the lightning of thunder, and the -thing that is hid bringest forth to light, we adore thy -power and thy wisdom; we magnify thy grace; we -hallow thy name. With penitence we confess our -manifold transgressions as individuals and as a nation. -Holiness belongeth unto Thee, but unto us shame and -confusion of faces.</p> - -<p>We thank Thee that Thou didst direct our forefathers -to these shores, and inspire them with purpose -and wisdom to form a civil compact built upon -the principles of religion, education, law, and labor. -We thank Thee that, in the face of famine, pestilence, -and relentless foes, they accomplished their purpose, -and with a spirit of self-sacrifice worthy of the cause, -devoted themselves as stepping stones to bridge the -path of future generations that they might create a -republic, lay the foundations of civil liberty, resist -oppression, and seal their devotion to their principles -with their blood. We thank Thee that though they -have passed away, their principles have survived, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[Pg 368]</a></span> -that when the republic they had reared was rocking -to its foundations, assailed by foes without and treachery -within, their children did not prove unworthy of -the sires who begat them, nor recreant to the principles -they drew in with their mothers’ milk and were -taught at their fathers’ knees. We thank Thee that -they were equally ready to vindicate at the cannon’s -mouth and maintain with property or life the principles -of civil and religious liberty, and the inalienable -right of every man to the fruit of his own labor.</p> - -<p>We pray Thee that, on this day, set apart by the -Executive of the nation as a day of grateful remembrance, -we may appreciate the true nature of the -perils we have escaped and acknowledge our indebtedness -to the providence of that Being who ruleth over -the affairs of nations. May we not in our prosperity -forget those dark hours when all faces gathered blackness. -May we not merely decorate the graves, but -may we ever cherish with affectionate remembrance -our obligations to those whose courage mounted in -proportion to the imminence of the danger, and who -approved their loyalty with their blood. May we not -on this day fraught with associations so sad to those -whose wounds, partially healed, are this day reopened, -forget the fatherless whose parents sleep in bloody -graves, and the widows whom this day reminds of all -they have lost, and the aged parents from whom war -took the support of their declining years. We commit -these to thy care and keeping; we commit unto Thee -all those who suffered and sacrificed that the Union -might be preserved. And we thank Thee for the comfort -of a vast army come back from the deadly uproar<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[Pg 369]</a></span> -of arms to take up again the unheroic duties of life, -and strive by honest living to maintain the principles -they fought to defend.</p> - -<p>We pray for thy blessing upon thy servant. May -he be enabled to expound and enforce those principles -which lie at the foundation of social happiness and -free institutions; those principles which have made -this republic, which a little more than a century ago -was a mere shrub with bare shade sufficient to cover -its roots, to become a tree that hath sent forth its roots -to the sea and its branches to the rivers, and on whose -foliage the sunlight loves to linger, and on whose -branches the dew of heaven lieth all night.—<span class="smcap">Amen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[Pg 370]</a><br /><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[Pg 371]</a></span></span></p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[Pg 372]</a><br /><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[Pg 373]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="VERSE" id="VERSE"></a>VERSE</h2> - - -<h3><a id="FROM_THE_PHANTOMS_OF_THE_MIND"></a>FROM “THE PHANTOMS OF THE MIND”</h3> - - - -<p class="center"><small>[First printed in <i>Bowdoin Portfolio</i>, September, 1839.]</small></p> - - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">I would not be a fragile flower</div> - <div class="verse">To languish in a lady’s bower,</div> - <div class="verse">A silken thing of texture rare</div> - <div class="verse">That fears to meet God’s blessed air;</div> - <div class="verse">My life a water, stagnant, low,</div> - <div class="verse">Without an ebb, without a flow;</div> - <div class="verse">Chained like a captive to his oar</div> - <div class="verse">To toil on, on, forevermore!</div> - <div class="verse">And supplicate with frantic cry</div> - <div class="verse">For the “poor privilege to die”;</div> - <div class="verse">A smooth-faced boy, a harmless thing,</div> - <div class="verse">A kitten playing with a string,</div> - <div class="verse">A child without, a brute within,</div> - <div class="verse">Without e’en energy to sin.</div> - <div class="verse">Not thus, when erst that iron race</div> - <div class="verse">From whom our birth we proudly trace,</div> - <div class="verse">No sculptured arras decked the bed</div> - <div class="verse">Whereon reposed the patriot’s head;</div> - <div class="verse">Nor proud device or motto wore</div> - <div class="verse">Those stern-faced men that lived of yore</div> - <div class="verse">In the good days of “auld lang syne,”</div> - <div class="verse">When liberty, a feeble vine,</div> - <div class="verse">Lay bruised and trailing on the ground,</div> - <div class="verse">Nor yet a single trellis found;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[Pg 374]</a></span> - <div class="verse">Gently they reared its drooping crest,</div> - <div class="verse">They bade its tendrils twine,</div> - <div class="verse">And many a traveller since hath blessed</div> - <div class="verse">The shadow of that vine.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<h3><a id="THE_DEMON_OF_THE_SEA"></a>THE DEMON OF THE SEA</h3> - - -<p class="center"><small>[First printed in <i>Bowdoin Portfolio</i>, November, 1839.]</small></p> - - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Ah! tell me not of your shady dells,</div> - <div class="verse">Where the lilies gleam and the fountain wells,</div> - <div class="verse">Where the reaper rests when his task is o’er,</div> - <div class="verse">And the lake-wave sobs on the verdant shore,</div> - <div class="verse">And the rustic maid with a heart all free,</div> - <div class="verse">Hies to the well-known trysting-tree;</div> - <div class="verse">For I’m the god of the rolling sea,</div> - <div class="verse">And the charms of earth are nought to me.</div> - <div class="verse">O’er the thundering chime of the breaking surge,</div> - <div class="verse">On the lightning’s wing my course I urge,</div> - <div class="verse">On the thrones of foam right joyous ride</div> - <div class="verse">’Mid the sullen dash of the angry tide.</div> - <div class="verse">I hear ye tell of music’s power,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The rapture of a sigh,</div> - <div class="verse">When beauty in her wizard bower</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Unveils her languid eye.</div> - <div class="verse">Of those who die in rugged fight</div> - <div class="verse">And battling for their country’s right</div> - <div class="verse">With the shivered brand in the “red right hand,”</div> - <div class="verse">And the plaudits of a rescued land.</div> - <div class="verse">Ye never knew the infernal fire,</div> - <div class="verse">The withering curse, the scorching ire,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[Pg 375]</a></span> - <div class="verse">That rages, maddens in the breast</div> - <div class="verse">Of him who rules the billow’s crest.</div> - <div class="verse">Heard ye that last despairing yell</div> - <div class="verse">That wailed Creation’s funeral knell,</div> - <div class="verse">When young and old, the vile, the brave,</div> - <div class="verse">Were circled in one common grave?</div> - <div class="verse">While on my ear of driving foam</div> - <div class="verse indent2">By moaning whirlwinds sped,</div> - <div class="verse">O’er what <i>was</i> joyous earth I roam,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And trample on the dead.</div> - <div class="verse">This is the music that my ear</div> - <div class="verse">Thrills with stern ecstasy to hear!</div> - <div class="verse">I love to view some lonely bark,</div> - <div class="verse">The sport of storms, the lightning’s mark,</div> - <div class="verse">Scarce struggling through the fresh’ning wave</div> - <div class="verse">That foams and yawns to be her grave!</div> - <div class="verse indent2">I saw a son and father fight</div> - <div class="verse">For a drifting spar their lives to save;</div> - <div class="verse">The son he throttled his father gray,</div> - <div class="verse">And tore the spar from his clutch away,</div> - <div class="verse">Till he sank beneath the wave;</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And deemed it were a noble sight.</div> - <div class="verse">I saw upon a shattered wreck</div> - <div class="verse">All swinging at the tempest’s beck,</div> - <div class="verse">A mother lone, whose frenzied eye</div> - <div class="verse">Wandered in hopeless agony</div> - <div class="verse">O’er that vast plain where naught was seen,</div> - <div class="verse">The ocean and the sky between,</div> - <div class="verse">And there all buried to the breast</div> - <div class="verse">In the hungry surf that round her prest—</div> - <div class="verse">With feeble arms, in anguish wild,</div> - <div class="verse">High o’er her head she raised her child,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[Pg 376]</a></span> - <div class="verse">Endured of winds and waves the strife,</div> - <div class="verse">To add a unit to its life.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">I whelmed that infant in the sea</div> - <div class="verse">To add a pang to her misery,</div> - <div class="verse">And the wretched mother’s frantic yell</div> - <div class="verse">Came o’er me like a soothing spell!</div> - <div class="verse">Are ye so haughty in your pride,</div> - <div class="verse">To deem of all the earth beside</div> - <div class="verse">That yours are fields and fragrant flowers,</div> - <div class="verse">And lute-like voices in your bowers,</div> - <div class="verse">And gold and gems of priceless worth,</div> - <div class="verse">And all the glory of the earth?</div> - <div class="verse">Ah, mean is all your pageantry</div> - <div class="verse">To that proud, fadeless blazonry,</div> - <div class="verse">That waves in scathless beauty free</div> - <div class="verse">Beneath the blue, old rolling sea!</div> - <div class="verse">For there are flowers that wither not,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And leaves that never fall,</div> - <div class="verse">Immortal forms in each wild grot,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Still bright and changeless all.</div> - <div class="verse">Decay is not on beauty’s bloom,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">No canker in the rose,</div> - <div class="verse">No prescience of a future doom</div> - <div class="verse indent2">To mar the sweet repose—</div> - <div class="verse">There Proteus’ changeful form is seen,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And Triton winds his shell,</div> - <div class="verse">While through old Ocean’s valleys green,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The tuneful echoes swell.</div> - <div class="verse">But though a Demon rightly named,</div> - <div class="verse">For terror more than mercy famed,—</div> - <div class="verse">Yet demons e’en respect the power</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[Pg 377]</a></span> - <div class="verse">That nerves the heart in danger’s hour.</div> - <div class="verse">And when the veteran of a hundred storms,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Whom many a wild midnight</div> - <div class="verse">I’ve girded with a thousand startling forms</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Of terror and affright,—</div> - <div class="verse">When tempests roar and hell-fiends scream,</div> - <div class="verse">The thunders crash, the lightnings gleam,</div> - <div class="verse">’Mid biting cold and driving hail</div> - <div class="verse">Still grasps the helm, still trims the sail,</div> - <div class="verse">Nor deigns to utter coward cries,</div> - <div class="verse">But as he lived, so fearless dies,—</div> - <div class="verse">Mingles his last faint, bubbling sigh</div> - <div class="verse">With the pealing tempest’s banner-cry;—</div> - <div class="verse">Then winds are hushed, the billow falls</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Where storms were wont to be,</div> - <div class="verse">As I bear him to the untrodden halls</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Of the deep unfathomed sea!</div> - <div class="verse">Now Triton sends a mournful strain</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Through all that vast profound,—</div> - <div class="verse">At once a bright immortal train</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Comes thronging at the sound.</div> - <div class="verse">And on a shining pearly car</div> - <div class="verse indent2">They place the honored dust,</div> - <div class="verse">And Ocean’s chargers gently bear</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Along the sacred trust,</div> - <div class="verse">While far o’er all the glassy plain</div> - <div class="verse indent2">By mighty Neptune led,</div> - <div class="verse">In sadness moves that funeral train,—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Thus Ocean wails her dead!</div> - <div class="verse">And now the watch of life is past,</div> - <div class="verse">The shattered hulk is moored at last,</div> - <div class="verse">Nor e’en the tempest’s thrilling breath</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[Pg 378]</a></span> - <div class="verse indent2">Can wake “the dull, cold ear of death.”</div> - <div class="verse">No bitter thoughts of home and loved ones dart</div> - <div class="verse">Their untold anguish through the seaman’s heart.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent2">Peaceful be thy slumbers, brother,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">There’s no prouder grave for thee,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Well may pine for thee a mother,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Flower of ocean’s chivalry!</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<h3><a id="PORTLAND"></a>PORTLAND</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Still may I love, beloved of thee,</div> - <div class="verse">My own fair city of the sea!</div> - <div class="verse">Where moulders back to kindred dust</div> - <div class="verse">The mother who my childhood nurst,</div> - <div class="verse">And strove, with ill-requited toil,</div> - <div class="verse">To till a rough, ungrateful soil;</div> - <div class="verse">Yet kindly spared by Heaven to know</div> - <div class="verse">That Faith’s reward is sure, though slow,</div> - <div class="verse">And see the prophet’s mantle grace</div> - <div class="verse">The rudest scion of her race.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">And while around thy seaward shore</div> - <div class="verse">The Atlantic doth its surges pour,</div> - <div class="verse">(Those verdant isles, thy bosom-gems)</div> - <div class="verse">May Temples be thy diadems;</div> - <div class="verse">Spire after spire in beauty rise,</div> - <div class="verse">Still pointing upward to the skies,</div> - <div class="verse">Unwritten sermons, and rebukes of love,</div> - <div class="verse">To point thy toiling throngs to worlds above.</div> -</div></div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[Pg 379]</a></span></p> - -<h3><a id="AN_ODE"></a>AN ODE</h3> - - -<p class="center"><small>[Written for the Semi-centennial Celebration at Bowdoin -College, August 31, 1852.]</small></p> - - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">From waves that break to break again,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">From winds that die to gather might,</div> - <div class="verse">How pleasant on the stormy main</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Appears the sailor’s native height.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">And sweet, I ween, the graceful tears</div> - <div class="verse indent2">That glisten in the wand’rer’s eye,</div> - <div class="verse">As haunts and homes of early years</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Begemmed with morning’s dewdrops lie.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Borne on the fragrant breath of morn,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">His lazy vessel stems the tide</div> - <div class="verse">Among the fields of waving corn</div> - <div class="verse indent2">That nestle on the river’s side.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">His mother’s cottage through the leaves</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Gleams like a rainbow seen at night,</div> - <div class="verse">While all the visions fancy weaves</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Are stirring at the well-known sight.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">But sweeter memories cluster here</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Than ever stirred a seaman’s breast,</div> - <div class="verse">Than e’er provoked his grateful tear,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Or wooed the mariner to rest.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[Pg 380]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">’Twas here our life of life began—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The spirit felt its dormant power;</div> - <div class="verse">’Twas here the child became a man—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The opening bud became a flower.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">And from Niagara’s distant roar</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And homes beside the heaving sea,</div> - <div class="verse">Rank upon rank thy children pour,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And gather to thy Jubilee.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">On these old trees each nestling leaf,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The murmur of yon flowing stream,</div> - <div class="verse">Has power to stir a buried grief,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Or to recall some youthful dream.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Each path that skirts the tangled wood,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Or winds amidst its secret maze,</div> - <div class="verse">Worn by the feet of those we loved,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Brings back the forms of other days.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Of those whose smile was heaven to thee,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Whose voice a richer music made</div> - <div class="verse">Than brooks that murmur to the sea,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Or birds that warble in the shade.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Around these ancient altar fires</div> - <div class="verse indent2">We cluster with a joyous heart,</div> - <div class="verse">While ardent youth and hoary sires</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Alike sustain a grateful part.</div> -</div></div></div> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[Pg 381]</a></span></p> - -<h3><a id="A_HYMN"></a>A HYMN</h3> - - -<p><small>[Written for the Celebration of the Twenty-eighth Anniversary -of the Boston Seaman’s Friend Society, at Music -Hall, Boston, May 28, 1856.]</small></p> - - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">I was not reared where heaves the swell</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Of surf on coasts remote and drear,</div> - <div class="verse">But grew with roses, in a dell,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And waked with bird-notes in my ear.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Glad hours on golden pinions sped,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">As folded to her throbbing breast,</div> - <div class="verse">A mother’s lips their fragrance shed,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And lulled me with a prayer to rest.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">The red has faded from my cheek,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And bronzed and scarred the boyish face;</div> - <div class="verse">Affection’s eye might vainly seek</div> - <div class="verse indent2">One lingering lineament to trace.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Shipwrecked, the Sailor’s Home I sought,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">My raiment gone, my shipmates dead,</div> - <div class="verse">Through poverty reluctant brought,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And there a sober life I led.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">But when the evening prayer was said,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">It brought the unaccustomed tear,</div> - <div class="verse">A mother’s hand was on my head,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Her voice was thrilling in mine ear.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[Pg 382]</a></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Old memories waked that long had slept,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">They forced the spirit’s brazen crust;</div> - <div class="verse">I wept and prayed, I prayed and wept,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Till anguish ripened into trust.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">Blest be the hands that reared thy dome</div> - <div class="verse indent2">The wandering seaman’s step to greet;</div> - <div class="verse">Guiding the homeless to a home,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And sinners to a mercy-seat.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<h3><a id="TRUE_POETRYS_TASK"></a>TRUE POETRY’S TASK</h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"><div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">When first the human clay, instinct with thought,</div> - <div class="verse">Doth feel the motions of those hidden fires</div> - <div class="verse">That by a subtle alchemy sublime</div> - <div class="verse">The crude contexture of its grosser powers,</div> - <div class="verse">It is not life—rather capacity</div> - <div class="verse">Of life and power hereafter to be given.</div> - <div class="verse">Life lies beyond us, as an Orphic tale</div> - <div class="verse">Of things mysterious and dimly seen,</div> - <div class="verse">A gorgeous phantom, but a phantom still</div> - <div class="verse">That ever is, and ever is without.</div> - <div class="verse">We dwell amid the border flowers that bloom</div> - <div class="verse">To bless and cheer life’s brier-planted paths,</div> - <div class="verse">Its dusty turnpikes, and its scorching noons;</div> - <div class="verse">And thus our primal being is a dream</div> - <div class="verse">And most mysterious to the dreamer,</div> - <div class="verse">E’en as the dim and iron forms that frown</div> - <div class="verse">From the dark walls of some old corridor</div> - <div class="verse">On which the moonbeams thro’ the crumbling towers</div> - <div class="verse">Bestow expression and inform with life</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[Pg 383]</a></span> - <div class="verse">Delicious but delight indefinite.</div> - <div class="verse">The finer tissues of that wondrous web</div> - <div class="verse">That doth so strangely link spirit to sense</div> - <div class="verse">Matter to mind, are all unwoven yet;</div> - <div class="verse">Those subtle telegraphs that make report</div> - <div class="verse">Of outward action to the inward life</div> - <div class="verse">Still in the secret caves of being sleep.</div> - <div class="verse">The soul is conscious of no other tie</div> - <div class="verse">To nature than to love its beauty</div> - <div class="verse">And with an open sense luxuriate</div> - <div class="verse">In woods and fields with animal delight.</div> - <div class="verse">For as the sturdy trunk and massive limbs</div> - <div class="verse">Of the gigantic oak, lie deftly hid</div> - <div class="verse">Within the acorn’s small periphery,</div> - <div class="verse">Till in the pregnant bosom of the earth,</div> - <div class="verse">Warmed by the sun, moistened with summer dews,</div> - <div class="verse">It bursts its coffin and leaps forth to light;</div> - <div class="verse">Thus when the soul is in its progress brought,</div> - <div class="verse">Led on by nature’s genial processes,</div> - <div class="verse">To touch reality and outward life,</div> - <div class="verse">There is a stirring, from its inmost depths,</div> - <div class="verse">Of yearning thoughts and deathless energies,</div> - <div class="verse">Seeking the outward vesture that confers</div> - <div class="verse">A definite existence and a form.</div> - <div class="verse">Strong roots shoot forth and fibres more minute</div> - <div class="verse">That by mysterious alchemy impart</div> - <div class="verse">Substance to shadow, breath to lifeless forms.</div> - <div class="verse">Life is no more a pageant to admire;</div> - <div class="verse">Since with a yearning for a higher life,</div> - <div class="verse">The power to struggle, and the thirst to know,</div> - <div class="verse">Awakes a bitter principle to sin,</div> - <div class="verse">Breeding intestine war and conflict fierce,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[Pg 384]</a></span> - <div class="verse">Till powers are marshalled in the mind itself</div> - <div class="verse">That with itself chaotic warfare wage.</div> - <div class="verse">Henceforth man’s life is conflict, and his doom</div> - <div class="verse">By conflict to grow stronger, to contend</div> - <div class="verse">From the rude cross within some Alpine gorge</div> - <div class="verse">To the proud blazon of ancestral tombs.</div> - <div class="verse">In eastern myths and Christian chronicles,</div> - <div class="verse">In heathen temples, and in holy shrines</div> - <div class="verse">The same stern truth is graven on them all—</div> - <div class="verse">That conflict only doth ennoble man.</div> - <div class="verse">But man is not sufficient to himself</div> - <div class="verse">In this great conflict, therefore God has given</div> - <div class="verse">A twofold revelation to his faith.</div> - <div class="verse">Subjective, one to reason makes appeal;</div> - <div class="verse">The other to the grosser sense explains</div> - <div class="verse">Stern truths by most persuasive images,</div> - <div class="verse">Graving dread mandates on the shifting clouds,</div> - <div class="verse">Weaving of wild flowers and of foliage green</div> - <div class="verse">A genial symbol for a genial faith.</div> - <div class="verse">This is the task to Poetry assigned:</div> - <div class="verse">Of life divine to be the messenger.</div> - <div class="verse">As to the sorrow-stricken soul of him</div> - <div class="verse">Who knelt and prayed in lone Gethsemane</div> - <div class="verse">The angel choir did gently minister,</div> - <div class="verse">E’en thus true Poetry doth nerve the soul</div> - <div class="verse">Upon its Alpine passage to commune</div> - <div class="verse">With truths that quicken and with thoughts that stir.</div> - <div class="verse">It is the soul’s sheet-anchor in the strife.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<div class="figcenter" ><a id="p384"></a> -<img src="images/p384.jpg" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"><span class="smcap">Elijah Kellogg at Eighty-six.</span><br />1899.</div> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[Pg 385]</a></span></p> - - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[Pg 386]</a><br /><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[Pg 387]</a></span></p> - -</div><div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="MISCELLANEOUS" id="MISCELLANEOUS"></a>MISCELLANEOUS</h2> - - -<h3><a name="MEMORIES_OF_LONGFELLOW"></a>MEMORIES OF LONGFELLOW</h3> - - -<p class="right"> -<span class="smcap">Topsham, Maine</span>, February 10, 1885.<br /> -<br /> -<span class="smcap">Editors of the Orient</span>:<br /> -</p> - -<p><i>Dear Sirs</i>,—I have received your note -requesting me to furnish some reminiscences -of Longfellow. I would say in reply that -although yielding to no one in my admiration -of the character and genius of Mr. Longfellow -or regard for his memory, I still feel quite -unable to contribute anything that would -meet your expectations or serve your purpose, -from the fact that my knowledge of -him began and to a large extent closed in very -early youth before his powers had developed. -Nevertheless, as everything even remotely -connected with him or his is valued and -treasured, I will endeavor to comply with -your request.</p> - -<p>Hon. Stephen Longfellow, the father of -Henry, was a friend of my father’s and resided -near us. Judge Potter, the father of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[Pg 388]</a></span> -the poet’s first wife, lived almost directly -opposite to us; and in an adjoining house a -sister of the late Eben Steele taught a school -which I attended with two of the daughters -of Judge Potter and other children. The -Potter children, being the nearest neighbors, -were my playmates. I can see them now with -their little blue aprons and happy faces. There -was something very attractive in the expression -of Mary Potter’s features, the future wife -of the poet. It remains as fresh in my recollection -to-day as it was then. I used to hear -a great deal about angels, but cherished very -incoherent ideas in regard to them, and one -evening when my mother was teaching me a -hymn, the conclusion of which was:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">“May angels guard me while I sleep</div> - <div class="verse">Till morning light appears,”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>I astonished her by asking if Mary Potter was -not an angel.</p> - -<p>Though she was quiet and retiring, it made -one happy to be in her society; and she enjoyed -fun as well as the rest of us, only in a -more quiet way. One morning there was a -platform laid around the pump in the schoolyard -and a man employed to paint it red. On<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[Pg 389]</a></span> -going to dinner he put his paint-pot and brush -under the edge of the platform where we discovered -it. The Potters wore red morocco -shoes and I wore black ones. Some other -children who rejoiced in red shoes were very -proud of them, which excited my envy. I -painted my own and the shoes of several -others a staring red, and we strutted among -our mates with great satisfaction, which, however, -was somewhat abated upon the arrival -of the schoolmistress.</p> - -<p>It was the custom at that time in Portland -to send children to the Academy very soon -after leaving the primary school, and there I -first met Henry Longfellow; but he was a -large boy fitting for college, and I was a little -one. I can therefore only give you the impression -made (by his habits and bearing) upon -the mind of a boisterous boy who had with -him nothing in common. But I recollect perfectly -the impression made upon myself and -others by his deportment, and from these impressions -draw the inferences I communicate. -He was a very handsome boy, retiring without -being reserved; there was no chill in his manners. -There was a frankness about him that -won you at once; he looked you square in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[Pg 390]</a></span> -face. His eyes were full of expression, and it -seemed as if you could look down into them as -into a clear spring. There were many rough -boys in the school, a great deal of horse-play -and a good many rough-and-tumble games at -recess, and the boys who were not inclined -to engage in them often excited the ill-will of -their ruder mates who were prone to imagine -that the former felt above them. As a result -the quiet boys sometimes fell victims to this -feeling and were dragged out and rudely -treated. But no one ever thought of taking -such liberties with Longfellow, nor did such -suspicions ever attach to him. Not even John -Bartels or John Goddard ever meddled with -him. I think John Goddard expressed the -common sentiment of the school when, after -some boy had remarked upon Longfellow’s -retiring habits, he exclaimed: “Oh, let him -alone. He don’t belong to our breed of cats.” -He had no relish for rude sports, but he loved -to bathe in a little creek on the border of -Deering’s Oaks. And he would sometimes -tramp through the woods with a gun; but -this was mostly through the influence of -others. He loved much better to lie under a -tree and read. Small boys think it a great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[Pg 391]</a></span> -affair to tag after larger ones, especially if the -larger ones carry guns, and I have often -picked up the dead squirrels that he and -others used to shoot in the oaks. And he and -John Kinsman or Edward Preble would boost -me into a tree to shake off acorns for them.</p> - -<p>His early associations were very strong, and -as is the fact in respect to most of us, they -strengthened with age and cropped out everywhere -in his verse. One familiar with the -scenes and events of his youth can readily -trace to their source the allusions in many -of his verses. It was doubtless after gathering -the mayflower on some half-holiday or -tramping through the woods that, as he lay -beneath some one of those old oaks on the -verge of the forest, with limbs thirty feet in -length within reach of the hand, and looked -up through the branches and watched the -clouds go by, he received those impressions -which took form in the following lines:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse">“Pleasant it was when woods were green</div> - <div class="verse">And winds were soft and low,</div> - <div class="verse">To lie amid some sylvan scene,</div> - <div class="verse">Where the long drooping boughs between</div> - <div class="verse">Shadows dark and sunlight sheen</div> - <div class="verse">Alternate come and go.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[Pg 392]</a></span></p> - -<p>Though Longfellow was a thoughtful, he -certainly was not a melancholy boy, and the -minor key to which so much of his verse is -attuned, and that tinge of sadness which his -countenance wore in later years, were due to -that first great sorrow which came upon him -in the loss of her to whom I have referred, -and which was chiselled still deeper by subsequent -trials. He never buried her, and that -beautiful tribute to her memory in the “Footsteps -of Angels” is as true as tender.</p> - -<p>He was ever ready to extend a helping -hand to others. After leaving school we -took different paths and never met again till -1870, when I received a communication from -him through Mr. James T. Fields, saying that -he had kept run of me and wished me to call -upon him at a time fixed by him. I went and -was most cordially received. I asked him how -he had kept run of me. He replied through -his brother Alexander, his sister Mrs. Pierce, -and Mr. James Greenleaf, his brother-in-law, -an intimate friend and later schoolmate of -mine. We reviewed the past, and almost the -first question he asked in relation to it was -about the scholars in that Academy, and he -mentioned almost every name but the one I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[Pg 393]</a></span> -knew was most dear to him. This is what -led me to say that he never buried her.</p> - -<p>But what a change in that care-worn face, -marked with the deep lines of thought and -sorrow, from the smooth-cheeked boy of my -early recollections, unconscious of care and to -whom the future was rainbow tinted and full -of hope. The eyes, however, had not lost their -wonted expression, and the same sweet smile -was on his lips, and he encouraged me in the -kindest manner to continue in the course I -had just then commenced, in words that it -does not become me to repeat, but which will -never be forgotten. And from that time to -his death I found that neither success nor sorrow -had narrowed the sympathies or chilled -the heart of Henry Longfellow.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[Pg 394]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="BEN_BOLT" id="BEN_BOLT"></a>BEN BOLT</h3> - - -<p>Some time since, in the story of a wasted -life, we depicted the results of intemperance -and the terrible grasp which this vice fastens -upon its victims, alas, but seldom broken. -Lest our young readers should be left to imagine -that reformation is hopeless, we will -relate the story of Ben Bolt.</p> - -<p>Ben Bolt was an English sailor about forty -years of age, and a very powerful man, of an -iron frame and constitution and a choice man -on board ship. He was withal intelligent, -having received a good common school education, -and of most excellent disposition even -when in liquor. He was honest as the sun, -was never known to back out of a ship, cheat -his landlord, or run away after getting his -month’s advance. Ben was an excellent -singer, and obtained his name from a song -called “Ben Bolt,” that he was very fond of -singing. What his real appellation was, for -many years I did not know. He had none<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[Pg 395]</a></span> -of the vices common to seamen except drinking, -and that he had to perfection, insomuch -that he was seldom sober while on shore.</p> - -<p>I was conscious of a singular attraction -towards Ben; I liked him; and whenever I -could catch him comparatively sober, endeavored -to wean him from his cups. Sailors -are, in general, inclined to relate incidents -of their life, and if they have religious or -well-to-do parents, to speak of them with satisfaction -and honest pride. Ben, however, -was reticent in this respect.</p> - -<p>One day I was sitting at an open window -in the reading room of the Sailors’ Home, and -Ben was seated on the piazza outside singing -a psalm in a low tone; at the conclusion he -turned, and seeing me, said:—</p> - -<p>“Parson, I’ve sung that psalm many times -in the parish church at home.”</p> - -<p>Then, as though afraid I might pursue the -subject further, abruptly left. I judged from -this that during his youth he might have sung -in the church choir; at any rate he could read -music, had a thorough knowledge of it, and -was a skilful player on the violin.</p> - -<p>There were two hundred grog shops within -a short distance of the Home, several within<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[Pg 396]</a></span> -three or four rods of the door, and every inducement -was held out to encourage seamen -to drink. Ben had shipped for New Orleans, -but when the hour came for the vessel to sail, -he was missing. The superintendent of the -Home told the “runners” to go to Ben’s room, -get a key, open his chest, and see if he had -got his outfit of sea-clothes and was ready to -go, and if so, to search among the grog shops -and find him; but if he had not got his outfit, -he would take a man who was ready and put -Ben in another vessel.</p> - -<p>I happened to be in the entry when they -came upstairs, and went into the room with -them. They opened the chest, and there were -his oil clothes, sea-boots, woollens, and every -part of his outfit, and stowed snugly away -among the flannels a two-gallon jug of whiskey. -One of the “runners” took it and was -about to pour the liquor out of the window, -but I interfered, saying:—</p> - -<p>“You have no right to pour his liquor out; -he bought it and paid for it and worked hard -to earn the money.”</p> - -<p>“It is against the rules of the house to -bring liquor into it.”</p> - -<p>“Well, it is here now.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[Pg 397]</a></span></p> - -<p>“When he goes aboard, the mate of that -ship will throw it overboard. The last time -he went from here he carried a jug, and the -mate of the ship took all their liquor away, -for every man in the forecastle had a jug.”</p> - -<p>“Well, the mate can do as he likes, but -you shan’t pour it out.”</p> - -<p>I put the jug back and sat down on the -chest to wait for Ben. The “runners” did -not succeed in finding him at his usual haunts, -and, as time was pressing, another man was -taken and Ben left behind. I knew he had -a noble spirit of his own, and that taking -liquor from him by force had accomplished -nothing in the past, and I resolved to make -an effort in another direction. I had some -temperance tracts, written by the boatswain of -an English man-of-war, discussing the evils -of intemperance from the sailor’s standpoint, -which I knew had produced impressions upon -many sailors. I spread one of these over the -jug, then took a Bible and opened to the -twenty-ninth verse of the twenty-third chapter -of Proverbs, locked the chest, and went away.</p> - -<p>The doors of the Home were locked at -twelve o’clock, and those who were not in by -that time must stay out. Ben came home, as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[Pg 398]</a></span> -the watchman told me, about ten minutes -before twelve pretty decidedly drunk. Finding -himself safe in his room, he concluded as -he was not going in the ship, and didn’t need -the whiskey to carry to sea, he would have -a good drink and turn in. Opening the chest, -he saw the tract and read it, espied the Bible -and read that, the result of which was that he -turned in without tasting the whiskey. When -he waked in the morning, he read the tract -again, then took the jug, turned the liquor -out of the window, and broke the vessel on -the window-sill. At breakfast he told the “runners” what he had done. Upon this -they told him of what had taken place the -previous afternoon, and who had placed the -tracts and Bible in his chest beside the rum -jug. He then came into my room, the tears -on his cheeks, exclaiming:—</p> - -<p>“Parson, you wouldn’t let ’em pour out my -whiskey.”</p> - -<p>“No, Ben.”</p> - -<p>“Well, I’ve poured it out and broke the -jug, and so help me God not another drop of -whiskey shall pass my lips. Rum and I have -fell out. There’s two kinds of drunk, being -drunk in the head and in the legs. I was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[Pg 399]</a></span> -drunk in the legs last night; I had all I -could do to get upstairs, but my head was -clear enough to read that tract and take the -sense of it. The boatswain of that man-of-war -talks well ’cause he talks from experience. -I also read the Good Book and took the sense -of that. I went to the “runners,” and they -told me you wouldn’t let ’em pour out the -whiskey. Ah, that took hold. I knew it -wasn’t ’cause you wanted me to drink liquor -that you wouldn’t let ’em pour it out. I -knew you was a bitter enemy to liquor, but a -good friend to the man who drinks it. Don’t -think I’ve forgotten all the good words you’ve -said to me during the four or five years I’ve -been knocking about this house drunk. I’ve -thought of ’em in the middle watch at sea -when I was myself. I’ve thought of these -bloodsuckers round this house trying to get -my money away from me, to take the clothes -off my back and the shoes off my feet, and -you trying to get me out of their clutches -and save my soul; and I’ve thought if ever -I got ashore again, I’d ship in with you and -sign the articles, and now I am going to do -it.”</p> - -<p>“Are you really determined to leave off<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[Pg 400]</a></span> -drinking, or is it a mere impulse of the -moment?”</p> - -<p>“I never was more resolved to get drunk -when I had come off a long voyage than I -now am to keep sober.”</p> - -<p>“You cannot do this in your own strength. -I have known hundreds attempt it and fail; -you do not, cannot realize the struggle it will -cost. Let us ask help of God.”</p> - -<p>We knelt down together. When I had -finished, I asked him to pray; he said he -could not.</p> - -<p>“Then repeat the Lord’s Prayer with me; -we are together in this thing and must both -have our hands on the rope.” He did so, -and added to it,” God, be merciful to me -a sinner.”</p> - -<p>“Your appetites and passions, Ben, have -got you under their feet, and you must have -help outside of yourself; so long as you seek -it where we have sought it together this morning -you will succeed.”</p> - -<p>The next week he shipped for Australia. -For five years I had seen him go from the -house on different voyages, and he had always -gone so intoxicated as to be barely able to sit -in the wagon and unable to get aboard without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[Pg 401]</a></span> -help. The captain or mate would often say to -the “runners”:—</p> - -<p>“What did you bring that drunken fellow -here for? I was to have good men from -your place.” And the invariable reply would -be:—</p> - -<p>“Captain, he will be the best man in the -ship when the rum’s out of him. He’s a bully -man.”</p> - -<p>This time he went aboard sober and fit for -any duty, and came home as second mate of -the ship. He was no longer Ben Bolt, but -men who had been in the ship with him and -whom he brought to the Home, called him Mr. -Adams, William Adams.</p> - -<p>Note these two characters so strikingly different -in circumstances and in results.</p> - -<p>George L., spoken of in “A Wasted Life,” -after several struggles for victory over appetite, -yielded and died by his own hand. William -Adams conquered, continued steadfast through -life, and accumulated property. George L. had -youth on his side, a mother’s affection and -many kind friends to encourage him, and he -made shipwreck. Adams at forty years of age -was a confirmed drunkard, all his associates -were in the practice of the same vice, all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[Pg 402]</a></span> -leagued together to drag him back, and with -but one friend to take him by the hand and -encourage him to a better course. George L. -had a home, his flute, books, and steady employment. -He could attend lectures, find innocent -amusement, and good society. Adams -was in the narrow compass of a ship’s forecastle, -where all the conversation among his -shipmates was in respect to the debauchery -they had practised while on shore and meant -to practise again at the first opportunity. -George L., if he had been so minded, could -have turned down the next street and got -clear of his evil companions, but Adams could -not, and when the vessel arrived in a foreign -port, and the crew had money given them and -liberty to go ashore, the pressure was terrible. -You may say, he could stay on board and let -them go; so he did. But if you think this -was an easy matter for a person of his previous -habits, all I can say is, you don’t know -what sailors are, and are entirely incapable of -forming any conception of the strength of that -instinct which leads a sailor to go with his -shipmates either in good or evil. We talk -about the strength of the college tie; the -college tie is a spider’s web in the contrast.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[Pg 403]</a></span></p> - -<p>Why, I have frequently known the whole -watch in a crew of men who had just come -off a long voyage to insist on sleeping in the -same room, three in a bed, and the rest on -the floor, because they had been so long together -in the forecastle in the same watch; -but after three or four nights they would -pair off and take rooms two together.</p> - -<p>All these trials, temptations, and discouragements -Adams met and surmounted. I attribute -the failure of George L. to the fact -that he trusted in himself, and the success -of Adams to the fact that he went out of -himself at the very outset, went to God for -aid. In his case it was the moral force supplementing -the will that had become well-nigh -powerless which decided a contest in -which character, consideration, and happiness -both here and hereafter, were at stake. -All the talk at present is about forces of -various kinds; but if a young man would -have real force of character and wage a -successful contest, let him seek for it where -William Adams sought and found.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[Pg 404]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="MAAM_PRICE" id="MAAM_PRICE"></a>MA’AM PRICE</h3> - - -<p>A notable woman was Ma’am Price who -taught school in Portland, Maine; and Polly, -her daughter, was a spunky piece and was -ready with an answer to anybody. The -schoolroom was in Ma’am Price’s own house -that stood in Turkey Lane, so called from -the following circumstance: Mr.——, who -lived in that locality, invited the Reverend -Samuel Deane to dine with him and partake -of a turkey. The parson coming according -to appointment found a Cape Cod turkey on -the table,—a boiled salt fish. Notwithstanding -the town christened the lane Newburg -Street, the name Turkey Lane clave to the -spot more than forty years.</p> - -<p>When the British destroyed the town, -Turkey Lane was directly in range of the -enemy’s fire; and when Ma’am Price had -removed her household stuff to a place of -safety, Polly resolved to save her pig. A sea<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[Pg 405]</a></span>-captain -who had assisted her advised her to -turn the animal out to shift for itself, as -Mowatt had opened fire, and it was not -worth while to risk life to save a pig that -was not likely to be hit by a cannon-ball. -Polly, however, fastened a string to the -creature’s leg and undertook to drive it a -long mile to Bramhall’s Hill. The pig was -obstinate, Polly determined, the progress -necessarily slow. Meanwhile shells were -bursting and flinging the dirt on Polly. One -junk of earth struck the stick from her hand, -and red-hot cannon-balls were whirring around -her, but Polly was determined to save the pig, -and save it she did.</p> - -<p>Ma’am Price came to Portland from one of -the West India Islands. She was a woman -of culture, but very decided and strict in -school discipline. If a boy refused to hold -his head up, she fastened a fork under his -chin. No trifling with her.</p> - -<p>Some years after this she was obliged to suspend -her school on account of an alarm of smallpox. -A number of her scholars, among whom -were my mother and uncles, were inoculated -with smallpox virus, put in a pesthouse, and -Ma’am Price, in whose experience and judg<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[Pg 406]</a></span>ment -the parents reposed the greatest confidence, -employed to take care of them.</p> - -<p>It was customary, before the discovery of -Jenner, to inoculate with smallpox matter; -but the patients being first put under a strict -régime and properly and seasonably cared -for, the disorder was not much more severe -than varioloid. It was seldom that a patient -died or was even pitted.</p> - -<p>These young persons had been long kept -on water gruel and were convalescent, when -Hugh McLellan, by aid of friends outside, -procured two lobsters. The whole company -were around the table about to partake, when -Ma’am Price made her appearance, and forbade -them to take a mouthful, saying it -would kill them. They were, however, resolved -to eat, live or die. When unable to -prevent them, for the boys were large, she -took out her box that was filled full of yellow -Scotch snuff, strewed it over the fish, and -stirred it in with a spoon. Though provoked -enough at the moment, they cherished no ill-will -against her; at least I think not, when -I recollect the number of presents the boys -and girls, whose parents were Ma’am Price’s -scholars, used to carry to Turkey Lane.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[Pg 407]</a></span></p> - -<p>The good lady’s house was a great resort -for captains of vessels, with whom her husband -had been acquainted in the West Indies, -and who brought her a great many presents,—fruit, -shells, coral, eyestones, and vanilla -beans. People who got anything in the eye -would go to her to have an eyestone put in, -and the old ladies went there for sweet-scented -beans to put in their snuff-boxes.</p> - -<p>We were everlastingly teasing to carry some -present to Ma’am Price, and we found our -account in so doing. She would put the -eyestones in a saucer and pour in vinegar, -when they would crawl all over the saucer. -She would show us old pictures, needlework, -and beautiful shells, and tell us stories about -the West Indies and the pirates. And always -when we carried a present, she gave us tamarind -or guava jelly, or some West India fruit.</p> - -<p>There was one fellow who thought—though -doubtless it was just his silly notion—that the -boy who carried the most acceptable present -received the largest share of sweetmeats. So -one time when he was going to the good -woman’s with several other boys, and all he -had to carry was a plate of doughnuts, while -one of the others had a fifteen-pound turkey,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[Pg 408]</a></span> -he told that boy if he would present the -doughnuts and let him present the turkey, -he would give him two flounder hooks and -a gray squirrel; thus they swapped. We -all thought the other boy rather regretted -it when going home, but he regretted it a -good deal more about a week after when -Ma’am Price came to call on their respective -mothers and thanked his mother for “the -nice plate of doughnuts” she sent her. -Ma’am Price was very punctual and particular -in returning her acknowledgments, and -she did it like Britannia stooping to conquer.</p> - -<p>I am now going to tell the most wonderful -thing that ever happened to this excellent -woman. One forenoon during recess she -went into her little garden, picked a mess -of beans in her apron, sat down in the schoolroom -to shell them, and shelled out three -diamonds. What a talk it did make! People -came from all the towns round to hear -the story and look at “the diamonds that -grew in a bean pod.”</p> - -<p>I hear some boy say, “That never could -be; diamonds couldn’t grow in a bean pod.” -I have quoted that as town talk, and Ma’am -Price and Polly always thought they grew<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[Pg 409]</a></span> -there. I believe, moreover, that she shelled -them out of a bean pod; I shall stick to -that. It’s not the least use for you to tell -me she didn’t. Mrs. Commodore Preble saw -her with her own eyes shell them out, and so -did Mrs. Matthew Cobb who lived in the -cottage on the eastern corner of High and -Free streets. My mother said she did, and -Mrs. James Deering said so too. Now, then, -that’s not all. The very day before the old -lady died Miss Sarah Jewett said to her: “Ma’am Price, did you truly shell those diamonds -out of a bean pod? Hadn’t the pod -been opened, or was it solid together like -the other pods?”</p> - -<p>“Bless you, Miss Jewett, how could I tell? -You know folks don’t look at every bean or -pea they shell, except there’s one that won’t -open right. I was shelling away and looking -at the children to see that they were all in -their seats, when I felt something hard under -my thumb and looked into my lap, and there -were two little shining things among the -beans, and another rolled out of the pod -under my thumb when I took it up.”</p> - -<p>Miss Jewett had one of the stones set in a -ring that is now in the possession of William<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[Pg 410]</a></span> -Gould of Windham. John Campbell, a relative -of Polly’s, has another, and where the -third is I do not know.</p> - -<p>Whenever the children carried Ma’am Price -a present, she would take the diamonds out -of a cotton in which they were kept, lay them -in her lap, and let the children handle them; -after which she would tell how she shelled -them out of the bean pod, and how surprised -she was.</p> - -<p>I suppose if I don’t try to explain this -mystery, I shall have forty letters from boys -inquiring how those diamonds came there. -Well, my father said that a vessel came to -Portland from Brazil, on board of which were -several kinds of precious stones. The mate -of the vessel was paying attention to Polly, -and he stole them out of the cargo and put -them in the bean. He dared not give them -to Polly nor tell her about it because he stole -them; but as they had only about a dozen -bean vines, he knew she or her mother would -find them after the vessel was gone, so he put -them in the pod just as he was about to sail. -The vessel was never heard from, and thus -he never came back to claim Polly nor to -tell her where the diamonds, which were not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[Pg 411]</a></span> -of any great value, came from, and Polly -always thought they grew in the pod. This -was my father’s solution of the mystery which -made considerable of a stir at the time. As -he knew all the parties and circumstances -thoroughly, it seems the most probable explanation; -for nobody ever doubted that Ma’am -Price took them from the bean pod, and there -were not many that believed they grew there, -though some did and looked at it in the light -of a special providence and provision for a -worthy woman; the objections to which are -that, though diamonds, they were rough diamonds, -not much more valuable than quartz, -and that Providence provided abundantly for -the good woman in the affections of her scholars, -who never suffered her to lack any comfort -in her old age.</p> - -<p>If Ma’am Price was severe in her management -of scholars, she was not more so than -the parents themselves, as the following anecdote -will show. Captain Joseph McLellan had -a thermometer, rather a rare thing in those -days. His wife went to meeting one Sunday, -leaving the boys, Joe and Stephen, at home. -Stephen held the bulb of the thermometer -to the fire to see the mercury rise, and by so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[Pg 412]</a></span> -doing broke it. They were well aware of the -consequences. Joe told Stephen if he would -give him fifty cents, he would tell his mother -that he broke it and take the whipping, which -he did. The next day the mother found out -the true state of the case and whipped them -both, Stephen for breaking the instrument, -and Joe for telling a lie. These were the -kind of women to handle unruly boys when -the father was at sea.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[Pg 413]</a></span></p> - - -</div><div class="chapter"> - -<h3><a name="THE_DISCONTENTED_BROOK" id="THE_DISCONTENTED_BROOK"></a>THE DISCONTENTED BROOK</h3> - -<p class="center">A DIALOGUE</p> - - -<p>In a province of Old Spain respecting which -the inhabitants were wont to say that God had -given them a fertile soil, a salubrious climate, -brave men, and beautiful women, but He had -not given them a good government lest they -should not be willing to die and go to heaven, -there were two lakes separated by an intervening -mountain. Each had an outlet in a -brook; and the two brooks, as they wound -among the hills, ran near each other, so that -they were enabled to converse together quite -socially. They lay in the shadow of the hills -among whose roots rose the river Guadalquiver. -The chain sloped by degrees to a -fertile plain covered with vineyards and olive -trees. Fields of wheat surrounded the scattered -dwellings of the peasants and the tents -of shepherds whose flocks fed upon the moun<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[Pg 414]</a></span>tains. -The names of the brooks were Bono -and Malo.</p> - -<p>One pleasant night at the close of a very -sultry day they met to pass the evening together; -so, getting into a little eddy beneath -the shade of some large chestnut trees, where -the moonbeams which glanced tremulously -through the foliage enabled them to see each -other’s faces indistinctly, they thus spake in -murmurs.</p> - -<p><i>Bono.</i> “What a beautiful evening, neighbor -Malo, after such a sultry day! Yet I don’t -know as I ought to speak ill of the weather, -for it has enabled me to do much good, to -water many beautiful flowers and fields of -grain that otherwise would have perished.”</p> - -<p><i>Malo.</i> “I don’t know about that. Who -thanked you for it? I have been this whole -day,—yes, for the matter of that, my whole -life,—running first here, then there, squeezed -in flumes, tangled in water-wheels, pounded -in fulling mills, flung over precipices till my -neck was well-nigh broken. Again, I am -kept broiling in the sun, and if I steal for a -moment into the shade, I cannot stay there. -I have almost boiled to-day journeying among -hot rocks and over burning sands. And what<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[Pg 415]</a></span> -thanks have I got for it? Do you know, -neighbor Bono, the old peasant Alva?”</p> - -<p><i>Bono.</i> “Has he a daughter Lenore? Is -his cottage shaded by two large cork trees? -And is there a field of saffron between his -house and the mill?”</p> - -<p><i>Malo.</i> “Just so.”</p> - -<p><i>Bono.</i> “I have known him these many -years. His daughter keeps a few sheep and -goats on the mountain and often drives them -to my waters.”</p> - -<p><i>Malo.</i> “Well, only think! the old churl has -been hoeing this morning among his saffron; -so at noon he comes to me and goes down on -his hands and knees to drink. Then he says, -‘I’ll bathe.’ So he bathes and, without saying -as much as ’By your leave’ or ’God is good’ -or anything of the sort, just puts on his -clothes and walks off. Yet I have watered -his fields and those of his ancestors for a -thousand years, have often kept them from -starving, and not one of them ever gave me -even a look of gratitude. But I am resolved -to do so no more. I won’t wear out my life -for those who give me no thanks. I mean in -the future to keep my waters to myself and to -water no one but myself.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[Pg 416]</a></span></p> - -<p><i>Bono.</i> “Well, neighbor Malo,” replies Bono, -with a murmur so sweet that the nightingale -who was saying her evening prayers in the -almond tree stopped to listen, “I cannot feel -as you do, neither do I wish to. I have, indeed, -had some weary times, especially, as you -say, to-day, and sometimes have been almost -dried up. But I know what my duty is; God -made me to water the earth and the plants. -It would be pleasant to receive gratitude, but -if we cannot have that, there is one thing we -can always have,—the happiness of feeling -that we have done our duty.”</p> - -<p><i>Malo.</i> “Duty! This is fine talking, but I -heed it no more than the song of that nightingale. -What duty do I owe to that old -peasant or any of his kin? To the earth or -the plants? What good have they ever done -me?”</p> - -<p><i>Bono.</i> “But, neighbor Malo, the duty I -speak of is not to them but to God. I have, -as you very well know, turned the mills of -Henrique these forty years, and also the fulling -mills of Gonzalez, his nephew. As I said -before, this old Alva’s daughter, who used you -so scurvily, both waters and washes her sheep -in my stream. Not one of these people ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[Pg 417]</a></span> -thanked me; yet I love very much to see -their sheep fat, their lambs frisking on the -hills, and their families thriving. I indeed -enjoy their happiness as though it were my -own.”</p> - -<p><i>Malo.</i> “By this crouching spirit you invite -insult and aggression.”</p> - -<p><i>Bono.</i> “But are we not as well off in this -respect as our neighbors? The earth bringeth -not forth fruit for itself; the ocean shares not -in the profits of the voyage. Who thanks the -patient ox for dragging the plough all his life? -The sheep gives her fleece to clothe them and -then has her throat cut and her skin pulled -over her ears, and not so much as ’Thank you’ -or ’By your leave’ to it all. You and I have -not thanked God for this pleasant moonlight, -this sweet shade, and these flowers that perfume -our banks. He, without any thanks, -causes ’his sun to rise on the evil and on the -good and sendeth rain on the just and on the -unjust.’ Surely then we, His instruments, -ought not to complain who are so forgetful -ourselves.”</p> - -<p><i>Malo.</i> “You are a very noisy brook as -everybody knows, but I am determined to -take care of myself. I shall go home and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[Pg 418]</a></span> -stay at home. And you, who are as full of -Scripture as a brook is of pebbles, ought to -know that charity begins at home.”</p> - -<p><i>Bono.</i> “True, but it does not stay there. -I shall be sorry to lose your company; we -have run together so long, but if you are -resolved to benefit only yourself, I am just as -firmly resolved to benefit others; yes, the last -drop—I will share even that with the faint -and the thirsty.”</p> - -<p>Thus Bono went on overflowing with kindness -the whole world. The good brook ran -among the vineyards, and the grapes hung in -rich clusters; it ran through the fields, and -the grass turned to deeper green; the trees -said, “He waters us; let us shadow him.” -The great oaks and sycamores bent kindly -over the brook, and their branches screened it -from the heat of the sun. The shepherds -often wanted wood, but they said: “Let us not -cut down the trees that shade the brook, for it -is a good brook. It turns our mills and waters -our fields and flocks. God be thanked for -the running water!” Thus the brook that -worked for everybody was loved and protected. -It grew larger and ran in the Guadalquiver, -and there helped to water larger fields and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[Pg 419]</a></span> -turn larger machinery; it ran to the ocean -and foamed beneath the keel of mighty ships -and was diffused over the whole universe of -God. It sent up so many vapors to heaven -that they returned in plentiful showers bringing -back more than they carried. Thus the -brook that watered, not expecting any thanks -or profit, but because it was duty, was loved -and blessed.</p> - -<p>But how fared it with Malo who had retired -into himself to take care of himself and left -his channel dry and dusty? For a while he -had more water than he knew what to do -with. He was obliged to work night and day -raising his banks to keep it in. He labored a -great deal harder to keep the waters from -breaking out and doing good to some one, -watering some poor man’s perishing crops, -than he ever did before in watering and -fertilizing a whole province. Meanwhile, in -the plains below, the grass withered, the mill -stopped, the flocks died, the shepherds cursed -the brook, and some of them cursed God. -But Malo said: “Let them curse. I’m for -myself. I’ve water enough.” But by and -by a fire at which some shepherds were cooking -their dinner got away from them, and the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[Pg 420]</a></span> -wind being high ran up the dry bed of the -brook in the withered grass and dry leaves, -and burnt up the forest on the sides of the -hill that fed the pond and all the trees that -shaded it. The sun, then pouring in with -meridian heat, began to shrink the waters. -There being little motion in them since they -had ceased to run, they putrefied and the fish -perished. Snakes, lizards, and all vile creatures -came to live there. Instead of flowers -and foliage, bullrushes, reeds, and the deadly -aconite grew there. As the waters grew less -and less fewer vapors went up from it and -less rain came down. After a while it mantled -over with a green scum, and malaria -began to rise from it. People began to die -in the neighborhood; malaria got among the -soldiers in a garrison near by, and the doctors -said, “It is the pond; it must be drained.” -Then all the country round about and the soldiers -came together and drained it dry, and -brought down earth and rocks from the -mountain, and filled up the bed of the -lake that there might be no more stagnant -water.</p> - -<p>Thus it fell out to the brook that was determined -to benefit only itself. It lost all. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[Pg 421]</a></span> -had both God and man to fight against. For -if men are not always grateful, they are not -often slack in repaying injuries. Let us follow -the example of the industrious brook, and -by it learn in blessing to be blessed.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[Pg 422]</a><br /><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[Pg 423]</a></span></p> - -</div><div class="chapter"> - - -<h2><a name="A_COMPLETE_LIST_OF_ELIJAH" id="A_COMPLETE_LIST_OF_ELIJAH"></a>A COMPLETE LIST OF ELIJAH -KELLOGG’S BOOKS</h2> - - - -<p><small>[With the exception of “Norman Cline,” all these books are -published by Lee and Shepard, Boston. “Norman Cline” is published -by the Congregational Sunday-school and Publishing Society, -Boston.]</small></p> - - -<p class="hang">Good Old Times; or Grandfather’s Struggle for a -Homestead. First published as a serial story in -<i>Our Young Folks</i> in 1867; published in book form -in 1878.</p> - -<p>Norman Cline. 1869.</p> - - -<p class="center">ELM ISLAND STORIES</p> - -<p> -Lion Ben of Elm Island. 1869.<br /> -Charlie Bell, the Waif of Elm Island. 1869.<br /> -The Ark of Elm Island. 1869.<br /> -The Boy Farmers of Elm Island. 1869.<br /> -The Young Ship-Builders of Elm Island. 1870.<br /> -The Hard-Scrabble of Elm Island. 1870.<br /> -</p> - - -<p class="center">THE PLEASANT COVE SERIES</p> - -<p> -Arthur Brown the Young Captain. 1870.<br /> -The Young Deliverers of Pleasant Cove. 1871.<br /> -The Cruise of the Casco. 1871.<br /> -The Child of the Island Glen. 1872.<br /> -John Godsoe’s Legacy. 1873.<br /> -The Fisher-Boys of Pleasant Cove. 1874.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[Pg 424]</a></span></p> - - -<p class="center">THE WHISPERING PINE SERIES</p> - - - -<p class="hang">The Spark of Genius; or the College Life of James -Trafton. 1871.</p> - -<p class="hang">The Sophomores of Radcliffe; or James Trafton and -his Bosom Friends. 1872.</p> - -<p class="hang">The Whispering Pine; or the Graduates of Radcliffe -Hall. 1872.</p> - -<p class="hang">Winning his Spurs; or Henry Morton’s First Trial. -1872.</p> - -<p class="hang">The Turning of the Tide; or Radcliffe Rich and his -Friends. 1873.</p> - -<p class="hang">A Stout Heart; or The Student from over the Sea. -1873.</p> - - -<p class="center">FOREST GLEN SERIES</p> - - -<p class="hang">Sowed by the Wind; or The Poor Boy’s Fortune. -1874.</p> - -<p class="hang">Wolf Run; or The Boys of the Wilderness. 1875.</p> - -<p class="hang">Brought to the Front; or The Young Defenders. -1876.</p> - -<p class="hang">The Mission of Black Rifle; or On the Trail. 1876.</p> - -<p class="hang">Forest Glen; or The Mohawk’s Friendship. 1877.</p> - -<p class="hang">Burying the Hatchet; or the Young Brave of the -Delawares. 1878.</p> - - -<p class="center">THE GOOD OLD TIMES SERIES</p> - - -<p class="center">(Including “Good Old Times,” first mentioned above.)</p> - - -<p class="hang">A Strong Arm and a Mother’s Blessing. 1881.</p> - -<p class="hang">The Unseen Hand; or James Renfew and his Helpers. -1882.</p> - -<p class="hang">The Live Oak Boys; or The Adventures of Richard -Constable Afloat and Ashore. 1883.</p> -</div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="transnote"> -<h3>Transcriber's Notes</h3> - -<p>Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations -in hyphenation, spelling and punctuation remain unchanged.</p> - -<p>Repetition of the sidenote “Journal” on each page of the section -devoted to the Journal has been removed.</p> - -</div> - - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Elijah Kellogg, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELIJAH KELLOGG *** - -***** This file should be named 51281-h.htm or 51281-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/2/8/51281/ - -Produced by David Edwards, Les Galloway and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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