USA > Massachusetts > Middlesex County > Malden > Memorial of the celebration of the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the incorporation of the town of Malden, Massachusetts, May, 1899 > Part 6
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SONG OF WELCOME.
Music by MRS. H. H. A. BEACH.
Welcome, thrice welcome to the people of the Lord !
Welcome to the hearers, who are doers of the word ! Let every heart go up to Him in songs of holy cheer, Whose loving-kindness brought our fathers here.
Welcome, welcome, welcome to the followers of the meek And lowly son of David, the Saviour we adore,
The bright and morning Star that led Faith's exiles to the bleak New England coast, the wild and dreary savage-haunted shore - To build an altar in the waste, as Abraham did of yore.
Welcome, welcome to the scions of the faithful few, Who braved an exile's doom, an angry winter sea,
All savage late and monarch's ire might do,
And perished, smiling as they died, to leave their children free.
Flag of the race to Faith and Freedom true, Hallowed stars illumine every clime beneath the sun, And bring the peace that makes the nations one !
INTRODUCTORY ADDRESS BY THE PASTOR.
My Friends : - We are reminded here to-night that the old is ever new, that the past is always present. God adds no new material to the original resources of creation, as the years and cycles pass. He only projects new personalities into the ever-widening sphere of human existence, who shall manipulate the old material into ever fresher forms by better methods. Thus it comes about that the present is, partially at least, the product of the past. No more surely does the soil, out of which spring the flowers and the grass and the trees, rest upon a rocky foundation laid in ages gone, than the life of to-day rests upon the life of yesterday. As the course of brick which the mason lays to-day is imposed upon the course he laid yesterday, so the structure of our human life is reared little by little, each suc- cessive age dependent upon all that has gone before.
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Nothing can be more fitting, then, than for the present to recognize and do homage to the past. He is a dastard who loses reverence for his father ; and we are ungrateful if we fail to keep forever green in our hearts the memory of the sacred dead. We may look back on their work, quaint and incomplete and often timid and halting, with something of a feeling of pity. Indeed, we can hardly repress a smile at the steeple-hat, the tithing-master, the ducking-stool, and the stocks. But when we get beneath the surface and view their solid and lasting achievements ; when we touch the deep current of heroic purpose, that moved them to found a nation whose God should be Jehovah, our pity changes to awe, and we accord them their rightful place in history.
Through bleak winds, and drifting snows, and savage arrows, and starving winters these men pressed their sublime way into immor- tality. Their axes rang in the frosty air and the forests were cleared as by magic. Their plows grated in the virgin soil and soon the wil- derness began to blossom as the rose. Streams were dammed to sing the song of labor ; and rivers were bridged for the feet of the coming millions ; and in the shining pathway have sprung up splendid cities and opulent states, filled with the glories of a great civilization and luminous with the signs of the reigning Christ.
1649 is a focal point in history. Across the sea, the immortal form of Gustavus Adolphus, the Snow King, as he was contemptuously called by Ferdinand of Germany, has just grown cold upon the battle- field of Lützen ; and the Thirty Years War has ended with the Peace of Westphalia. Cromwell has seized in his iron grasp the reins of power dropping from the dead hands of Charles the First. To these two men, the Protector of England and the Snow King from the North, it seems to have been given to rescue the Reformation itself from the reaction which had set in so strongly toward Catholi- cism after the death of the Reformers. At any rate, from that point forward, Protestantism assumed the ascendency in the Christian world.
And there were other giants in those days. Francis Bacon, the profound reasoner, and William Shakespeare, the greatest dramatist of all time, are but a few years dead, while their works are creeping into enduring fame. Milton, Cromwell's secretary of state, and Puritan poet ; Richelieu, the Cardinal statesman of France ; Descartes, whose Cogito, ergo sum laid the foundation for a new philosophy, - all belong to this age. Galileo is but seven years in the tomb, and his sublime discoveries, notwithstanding his weak recantation of them before the Inquisition, are revolutionizing the world of science.
On this side the sea, three little blotches on the map, Plymouth, New Amsterdam, Jamestown, tell the meagre story. For, though one hundred and fifty years had now passed since Columbus landed at
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San Salvador, less than two hundred thousand white men were on these shores. Harvard College was founded ten years before this, it is true, and in the same year was printed the first publication in the New World, - an almanac ; but popular education and the power of the press were in the most embryonic state. It was a day of begin- nings - fitful, hesitating, tentative. The heroism that could accom- plish anything under such adverse conditions falls not short of the sublime. Only a faith in God, absolutely unshakable, could have held the fathers to their task.
Of course, such men would have a church; and in their eyes it would be the most important of institutions. It is worth our remem- brance that, when they had nothing for luxury and hardly enough for the bare necessities of existence, they provided so well for the church of God. They builded better than they knew, no doubt ; and yet who shall say that to some prophetic minds in that early day there was not given the vision of the church of this age, grown from feeble beginnings into a majestic organism, destined to fill the whole earth with the glory of Christ?
Other men have labored, and we have entered into their labors. That tells the whole story. And we meet on this anniversary occasion gladly to acknowledge our debt to them and to pledge our- selves anew to the work of transmitting to those who shall come after us the priceless heritage of the past. May we become more and more worthy of the sacred trust imposed upon us by the ever living dead, and by the solemn behest of Him who is " the same yesterday, to-day, and forever."
ADDRESS BY THE REV. AARON CHESTER ADAMS, D.D. PASTOR, 1852-1857.
AMONG the most pleasant years of a very pleasant ministry, stretching on from twenty-four years old to eighty-four, I have always reckoned my five or six years at Malden. The very name has come to be as music to me, and was to at least one other, till she was called up by the tones of a higher and more attractive music to bow with those who bow around the throne.
I almost make myself believe to-night that you who sit before me are the same people that I used to meet in the sanctuary, and the prayer meeting, and the Sabbath-school, and the home so many years ago. In thought and feeling, I am still, many times, in the old church edifice, -- a new one comparatively it was then ; and I am look- ing out from the pulpit upon the congregation as it was in my day. There is, indeed, a blur over my eyes and I cannot see clearly ; and yet the old familiar faces are there. Half a dozen pews from the
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pulpit and on the middle aisle sits, still, our good Deacon Sargent ; and I seem to see him as plainly - yes, more so ! - as I see you, listen- ing with heart and soul when the gospel is preached, and taking it as patiently as he can when the preacher undertakes matters which seem to him a little outside of his real calling. When we sing, and he sings with us, of Christ and his redeeming love, how his eyes shine, and his bosom swells, and his voice rises to a note of triumph ! We feel sure that, let who will be silent for a day before the throne, his voice is always heard.
Right opposite sits James Eaton, a Baptist in the forenoon, but for his good wife's sake and I suspect for his own sake too, a Congre- gationalist in the afternoon. A sort of man who averages not more than one to a congregation ; his mercurial temperament and quick sympathy, his unconscious smile and nod of assent to every good point the preacher makes, and to some that are not good, making it seem almost as if it were laid upon him to give the responses for the whole congregation.
On the other side again, and a little farther back, sits Philip Sidney Page, well named for the chivalrous Philip of two centuries ago, one who, giving much and asking little, is eager for the prosperity of the church, and not at all eager to have it supposed that the secret of that prosperity is in any special measure due to him. A gentleman in business life !
Not far away is Albert Norton,- " Brother Norton" as we always called him, a man who for nearness to God and a lifelong communion with God might almost be set down with Moses and Elijah ; a man who prayed in his household, and prayed in his closet, and prayed as he walked the street, and prayed when the brethren prayed, and when they were silent, and prayed when the minister preached, and prayed when he himself lay down at night and in the night and in the morn- ing. What I thus say I know, for I have walked with him and talked with him ; and I have lived in his house and lain down at night with only a thin partition-wall between us. I still seem to hear the deep tones of his praying voice whenever I think of him. This ownership is a rich estate, that is laid up " where neither moth nor rust doth cor- rupt and where thieves do not break through nor steal," for a church to have such a man among its names. "Norton," said some one, " would get up a prayer meeting in the bottomless pit."
Other men there were among our brethren who were men of mark, varying of course in degree, yet precious of memory. There was San- ford B. French, intermediate in a sort between the " old settlers " and the " new comers," a man who made the business of the church his business and worked for it at every turn. His business and its central location gave him opportunities that many others could not have ; and
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he emigrated years after and built up, along with others, another Malden in the West.
There, too, was Gershom L. Fall, our democrat, for we kept one such, who loved the Malden church as well as any of us ; and who bore patiently what he did not like, now and then, for the sake of ten times as much that he did like.
And there was Samuel L. Gerry, the artist, and John H. Shap- leigh, and the patient and much-enduring Deacon Fisher. I never was in a church, before or since, where, when it came to the prayer meeting, so many could be depended upon to make the meeting, while the pastor sat below and took his turn only with the rest.
Two of our brethren were newer men than the rest ; and I wish to speak of them somewhat particularly. Thomas S. Williams, the superintendent of the Boston and Maine Railroad, was one. His bur- dens were heavy, not only by reason of his secular work, but by reason of his Sunday work as originator and superintendent of the Edgeworth Sunday-school. Nine men out of ten would have said, and perhaps rightly, that they must have the Sunday for absolute rest. I have been sorry ever since that I did not, as a part of my duty as his min- ister, urge that view upon him. Mr. Williams was ready to give for the church as well as to work for it, and that without waiting, as a stranger sometimes does, for a long term of naturalization. He was ready from the beginning. I had preached one Sunday with reference to the church debt, and started out bright and early on Monday morn- ing to see what could be done about it. Coming upon Mr. Williams in the course of the day, he presumably being little acquainted with our affairs, I introduced the subject in a half-apologetic way. He re- sponded at once : "I will not trouble you, Mr. Adams, to go over the ground. That debt ought to be paid ; and you will find in that little package two hundred and fifty dollars - about what I think I can do at present. I thought I would have it ready against you came around." It was about a tenth of the whole amount needed ; and as in his plan of giving it belonged to the Lord already, it was not hard to give.
I had just come out of church one Sunday when a stranger ap- proached me and said : "This is Mr. Adams, I believe. My name is Coffin. I have come here to live, and I want to get acquainted with the minister." He got acquainted with the minister, and the minister with him. The church got acquainted with him, and the schools ; and by and by Boston, and Massachusetts, and New England, and the soldiers, and the sailors, and the statesmen, and the men and women of many lands got acquainted with him. We bless God to-day at the remembrance of our Charles Carleton Coffin, gone now in the ripeness of his life, and yet when he was just beginning a life that shall never die.
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I have said nothing of many things and many persons connected with Malden days and with that very short portion of my own life that was spent here, of the kindly friends and neighbors, the trusted and honored physicians, the associates on the school board, the Christian ministers, alike those with whom I was closest in faith and those from whom at some points I was obliged to widely differ, the Sunday- school and its leaders - the little ones for years were gathered in what we called the " small vestry," under the care of one whose name is named every day in heaven, but not any longer on earth. Of these we must be silent, and wait. The day is coming when people and minister, pupils and teachers, wives and husbands, children and parents, so they be in Christ by a real trust and love, shall meet to part no more.
God grant that we may thus meet in due time ; and meanwhile may God bless the Malden that was, and the Malden that is, and the Malden that is to be, through years and generations and ages yet to come.
LETTER TO THE CHURCH BY THE REV. ADDISON PINNEO FOSTER, D.D.
PASTOR, 1871-1872.
BOSTON, May 17, 1899.
TO THE FIRST CHURCH OF MALDEN.
Dear Friends : - I regret extremely that previous engagements make it impossible for me to accept the kind invitation you have ex- tended me to be present at the observance of the two hundred and fiftieth anniversary of your church. My whole heart is with you on this occasion, and it is a disappointment that I cannot be present in person.
It is a remarkable thing when an organization like yours can look back on two hundred and fifty years of effective Christian life. An organization like yours, with so long a life, could not fail in all these years to develop a marked individuality of its own. It has been welded together by these succeeding decades under the influence of godly and strongly marked men like your famous Dr. McClure.
How wonderfully your opportunities have grown with the passage of the years ! For a long time the Malden church did a modest work for a small rural population gathered on the narrow strip of land - manifestly an ancient sea beach - that lies between the wild, rocky hills back of it, and the broad salt-marsh in front of it. But in course of time the little community became a thriving village and stretched itself up among the gorges of the hills. At last it so grew as to climb the hill-tops and become a city. The church grew correspond-
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ingly, till now it is one of the largest in the state, and, for that matter, in the land.
My thought goes back to the years I spent with you as your pastor. They were years not without anxiety, but, nevertheless, years of rich privilege and years in which were many things I recall with thankfulness. I came to yon while the new church building was in process of erection and while worship was conducted in the old town- hall. The hall served us well, but we were very thankful when we found ourselves at last in the beautiful new church. The old hall had become unpleasant to me in consequence of a trying experience of mine there. I was present in the hall at a week-night public meeting of the citizens ; and I was unexpectedly called on to make a speech and talk against time, while some committee was preparing a report for which the audience was waiting. Fancy the distress of an inex- perienced young man, who had no gift at political speech-making. I was unspeakably thankful when the committee came in to report ; and I have every reason to suppose that the audience shared my feelings.
I recall with great pleasure the social life of the church in those old days. The monthly social gatherings in the church were always well attended and were occasions of great interest. The long tables in the vestry were loaded with good New England substantials, not forgetting Boston beans ; and those who sat down to the tables were most neighborly and in the best of spirits. There was a delightful habit prevalent of giving little neighborhood teas. Half a dozen families, living near together, would meet from house to house for an evening, and have tea on little tables set about the rooms in conven- ient corners. Happily for the pastor and his wife, they were always invited.
The prayer meetings of the church, as I look back upon them, were something rich and rare. There was a coterie of earnest men in those days, who had great gifts for interesting and helping us all by their utterances in the prayer meeting. Some of them are with you still, among them Mr. Stevens, and Mr. Gay, and Mr. Chadwick ; but others have been called to their heavenly home: Mr. Gleason, who always had some vivid word to say about his experiences with children ; Mr. Crawford, who was sure to illuminate his talks by stories of the White Mountains ; Mr. Smith, who was always sweet and spiritual in his thought ; Mr. Haven, whose prayers were tender and earnest; Mr. Swett, who brought his practical business life to bear on religious themes ; Mr. Carey, whose tall form commanded attention as he spoke simply and earnestly ; and, latterly Mr. Coverly, whose scholarly thought never failed to impress us.
My whole heart is thrilled as I think of the dear young people of those days. It seemed to me then that there were none like them,
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so bright, so beautiful and earnest were they. There was a precious work of grace among them, and many came into the church. It was before the days of Christian Endeavor societies ; but at the time we had no need of the organization, for the Spirit of God filled every heart and bound all together without formal organization. There were among the young people just starting out in those days, the Stevenses, the Dexters, the Walkers, the Bradleys, the Pages, the Gleasons, the Goddards, the Careys, the Sylvesters, the Holdens, and many more. How I loved them all; and I venture to believe that on their part they felt kindly toward their pastor. There is a fine French clock in my house to-day which the young people of those days gave me to keep me up to time. For that matter, I carry, as my inseparable friend and monitor, a watch which bears an inscrip- tion declaring it was given me by Malden friends in September, 1871.
My friends, I warmly congratulate you that God has led you and your fathers through all these years. He has brought you out into a large place. He has given you a name and an influence second to none. With the rich experiences of two hundred and fifty years behind you, you have acquired a momentum and a strength in re- ligious service that make successful work easy to you, and that must give your pastor constant delight.
With the most cordial good wishes, I am,
Sincerely yours,
ADDISON P. FOSTER.
ADDRESS BY THE REV. JOSHUA WYMAN WELLMAN, D.D.1 PASTOR,'1874-1883.
IT hardly seems proper for me to intrench upon the time of other speakers to-night, as I am to preach the historical sermon to-morrow. Yet, I am thankful for the opportunity to speak briefly of a few things this evening.
At the outset, let me frankly confess that my recent study of the history of this ancient church has convinced me that I made a serious mistake in not prosecuting this study at an earlier date. I say this more especially for the benefit of my brethren in the ministry. I can see now that it would have been a measureless help to my usefulness in various directions, if, at the very beginning of each of the three pastorates with which I have been intrusted, I had entered vigorously upon the work of making myself familiar with the history, in all its
1 This address was not written out until several weeks after it was delivered. Consequently, while it is substantially, it is not exactly as spoken.
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departments and details, of the church with which I was to labor in the ministry. The growth and experiences of a church in our de- nomination are quite different from those of a church in any other denomination. This is emphatically true of any one of our ancient churches. Moreover, the history of each Congregational church, as compared with that of any other of like polity, is more or less unique. Every church has had its own peculiar experiences, which have largely determined its character. It has had its own struggles and sacrifices, its own successes and failures, its own peculiar helps and hindrances, inspirations, and discouragements. The leading and most valuable members in one church may be quite different, in their formative in- fluence upon church character and life, from the leading and most valu- able members in another church. The pastorates in one church may have produced in the members and in the community a type of reli- gious thought and feeling quite different from that produced by the pastorates of another church. Each church has its own memories, some tender and purifying, others sad and depressing ; also its own sacred traditions and precedents, of which it is justly proud and which still mould its character and determine its action.
Now if a pastor is profoundly ignorant, and remains thus ignorant, of all this unique history, very likely he will move among these sacred memories, traditions, and beliefs of the church as a wild boar would move through a garden of flowers. Without knowing it, almost in- evitably, he will shock his people, disturb their harmony and peace, dash their hopes in himself, deprive them of much of the communion and comfort they previously had in public worship and church work, and destroy much if not all of his own personal influence in the com- munity. Any pastor who would be successful in his ministry must in a certain real and true sense become one with his people. He must, at least, be appreciative of their fond memories and traditions, of their established precedents and ways, and of their dearest religious beliefs and hopes. But how can he do this if he knows nothing of the history of his church and people? With my present views, if I could begin my ministry again, I would at the very commencement of a pastorate, and at any sacrifice of time and labor, make myself thoroughly acquainted with the history of the church to which I was to minister.
I wish also to call attention to a few of the earlier pastors of our church. It is to the honor of this First Church that during the first century and a half of its history it was ministered to by several men who were possessed of great ability and became eminent in their profession. The very first minister, Marmaduke Matthews, was a graduate of All Souls' College, Oxford University; and there are indications of his superior scholarship. He seems to have excelled
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as a linguist, for he was accustomed to instruct his people respecting the deeper meanings of original words and expressions in the Hebrew and Greek Testaments.
The second minister was also a man of commanding ability and scholarship. Though born in Yorkshire, England, October 18, 1631, he was educated at Harvard College, from which he was graduated in 1651, his name in the catalogue occupying the place of honor at the head of his class. Soon after liis graduation he was appointed tutor, and became distinguished for his fidelity and success as a teacher. He was also promptly elected as " a fellow," which made him a mem- ber of the college corporation. Some years later he was considered as a candidate for the presidency of the college. He was a man of literary ability, and became famous as a poet. His chief poetic pro- duction was The Day of Doom, so called,- not an attractive title in our day, yet not very unlike the name, Paradise Lost, given to the great epic of his distinguished contemporary in England, John Milton. Wigglesworth's poem was not equal to that of Milton ; yet for several generations it was wonderfully popular in New England. His biographer, John Ward Dean, A. M., affirms that the large sale of the book, considering the small population of the country at that time, " indicates a popularity almost, if not quite, equal to that of Uncle Tom's Cabin in our time." In those early days, three books, at least, were almost sure to be found in every Puritan home in New England, namely : the Bible, the Shorter Catechism, and The Day of Doom. It is a fact of some historical interest to us that while in the middle of the seventeenth century the greatest Puritan bard in England was John Milton, the greatest Puritan bard in New England was Michael Wigglesworth, the second minister of this First Church in Malden.
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