USA > Massachusetts > Suffolk County > Charlestown > The history of the First church, Charlestown, in nine lectures, with notes > Part 13
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Upon the return of our people, they found themselves much in the same situation in which the first settlers were, except indeed that their means were more limited, and their condition, if possible, more deplorable. Winthrop and some of his com- panions possessed handsome fortunes ; very few were poor- the body of them being of the middling class. But when the exiled inhabitants of Charlestown returned, they came, the most of them, with no possessions save the blackened sites of their once comfortable homes. They came not, with Win- throp, to behold the primitive forests of Mishawum, but to look upon a sight more forbidding-a naked and blackened soil ; they feared to walk abroad, not lest the Indian should way-lay them, but lest they should fall into wells or cellars, which the fire had either uncovered or covered only to ensnare. Of course they had no fit place for their Sabbath assemblies, and, as at the beginning, they were under the necessity of fitting up a building erected for another purpose. This was a block-house, small, and rudely built, which stood where this church edifice now does, and was erected by the enemy, after the occupation of the town by their troops. Here the vener- able Prentice met his people, and with his characteristic ardor, but with many evidences of broken strength, again preached to them the word of life. To this sacred hill-the first spot cleared by the hand of civilized man, when all around were the dark waters and frowning forests of a wild, uncultivated country-the spot from which the voice of prayer first as- cended, and where the Pilgrims' 'hymn of lofty cheer first shook the desert's gloom ; ' hither again, after the lapse of a hundred and fifty years, did their children resort to worship the God of their fathers, while yonder height was yet fresh with the memorials of the recent fight, and black desolation reigned over the peninsula.
I have received from aged members of the church, who recollect Mr. Prentice and the congregation of the block-house,
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several interesting anecdotes illustrative of the character of the pastor, and the simple habits of the people. They tell us that Mr. Prentice was an energetic speaker, and retained his warmth of manner to the last, and that sometimes, through the quick- ness of his motions, his wig, in those days a principal article of dress, would be displaced; and on such occasions, his daughter noislessly ascended the low platform upon which the sacred desk was placed, and re-adjusted his head-dress with her hands. On one occasion, through the failure of his memory, he omitted, for two successive Sabbaths previous to the annual thanksgiving, to read the proclamation, and his faithful daughter stepped into the aisle, and with filial obeisance, reminded him of the omission, which the father gratefully acknowledged, but his attempts to perform the duty were, through the in- firmity of age, and the confusion of the moment, fruitless, and he was relieved by the proffered assistance of one of the deacons-Dea. Frothingham. These simple incidents, occur- ring as they did, in the solemn worship of God, without disturbing the gravity of the worshippers, represent the minis- ter in the light of a father giving instruction to his family. We are told, that at length, through the utter failure of his memory, the pastor preached the same sermon over again in the afternoon, which he had just delivered in the morning ; and this is said to have been the last Sabbath of his public ministry. He fell asleep and was gathered to his fathers, on the 17th of June, 1782, at the age of ciglity. He was honor- ably interred in the burying-ground hill, at the expense of the town.1
About this period of time, an effort was made to rebuild the meeting-house. The former meeting-house, it will be remem- bered, stood in the square; but in the month of October, 1782, the town granted to the parish the Town hill, for the purpose of erecting thereon a house for the public worship of God, on condition that the building be erected within the space of five years.2 Accordingly, the requisite exertions were immediately commenced, and as the people were unable to per- form the work without assistance, an appeal was made to the surrounding towns, by a brief from the legislature, which met
1 Note 47.
2 Note 48.
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with a generous response ; and in 1783, a meeting-house was raised, seventy-two feet long, fifty-two wide, and twenty-seven high, to the eaves, with a lofty and beautiful steeple. A bell, 1300 pounds weight, was presented by Messrs. Champion, Dickason and Burgis, merchants of London, through the inter- est of Thomas Russell, Esq.1 The meeting-house was not finished however for a number of years.
It deserves also to be mentioned here, that a separation took place about this time, between the town and parish business. Previous to the Revolution, all parish matters were attended to in the general meetings of the town ; but subsequently to this, the first parish was organized in connection with this church, and succeeded to all the rights and duties of the town, in refer- ence to the support of the gospel.2
For about five years after the death of Mr. Prentice, the church and town were without a settled pastor. Public wor- ship was, notwithstanding, maintained for the greater part of the time ; and when no minister could be obtained, the people crossed the ferry and joined some of the congregations in Bos- ton. The church and parish made a number of attempts to obtain a minister, but without success, until November, 1786, when a unanimous call was extended to Mr. Joshua Paine, Jr., who accepted it, and was ordained January 10, 1787. This gentleman was the eldest son of the Rev. Joshua Paine, minis- ter of the church in Sturbridge, in Worcester county. He graduated at Harvard College, in 1784, with distinguished honor, having the salutatory oration awarded him-the second honor of his class. He died in the twenty-fifth year of his age, on the 27th of February, 1788, having been pastor of the church only thirteen and a half months. His disease was the consumption, which he contracted by stooping over a low table, upon which he was accustomed to write in his study. He is represented by those who knew him, as a young man of decided piety, amiable manners, and promising talents as a preacher. "His sermons," say our church records, in narrating the circumstances of his ordination and early death, " exhibited the piety of his heart ; and the exalted and social
1 2 Mass. H. S. Coll. ii. 170. Note 49.
2 Note 50.
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virtues of his mind secured the esteem and friendship of all his acquaintance, and presented an agreeable prospect of his useful- ness in the ministry. He was sincerely lamented by all who knew him, and especially by the flock committed to his charge."
But I can in no way bring before you the character of Mr. Paine so well, as by quoting from the conclusion of the sermon preached on the occasion of his funeral, by the Rev. Dr. Thacher, pastor of the Brattle-street church, in Boston. The text was taken from Job xiv. 19: " Thou destroyest the hope of man." "Never," says the preacher, " was the declaration of the word of God upon which we have been meditating, more strikingly verified than it is this day. We had formed the most sanguine hopes of the future eminence and usefulness of our friend. We rejoiced in the union and harmony which so remarkably prevailed in this place. We looked forward to the temporal and spiritual prosperity of this town, which its pastor appeared so well calculated to promote. We anticipated the day when his praise should be in all the churches, and his value should be known universally to others, as it was then to his particular connections ; and many of us hoped that, instead of being called to perform the sad offices which we are now paying to his remains, he would have lived to perform them for us !
" But God Almighty hath seen it best to disappoint our expectations, to destroy our hopes, and to show us that we should not trust in princes, nor in the sons of men. We see our friend and brother cut off in the morning of his days ; we are called once more to mourn with this widowed-church, and we are 'sorrowing most of all this day, that we shall see his face no more.'
" There is a melancholy satisfaction in beholding the pictures of our friends when they are taken away from us; but there is not only a satisfaction, there is an advantage also in recollecting their characters, in recalling to our minds their good properties, that we may 'follow them so far as they followed Christ.' With this design, and by no means with the intention of flatter- ing my departed friend, (for alas ! his ears are closed in eternal silence, he can listen no more to the voice of flattery or of friendship !) you will permit me to mention some leading traits of his amiable character.
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" There is no gift of nature which tends more to promote a man's happiness and usefulness, than what is commonly styled a good disposition. If a person possesses this disposition, lie will conciliate affection and disarm resentment. He will endear himself to his friends and cause his enemies to be at peace with him. He will unite varying parties. He will prevent the col- lisions which stir up strife, and he will secure universal respect and esteem.
" And who, my brethren, possessed this qualification in a greater degree than the friend whom we this day lament ? Kind, amiable, and conciliating ; diffident of his own merit, and ready to acknowledge that of others ; warm in his friend- ships, gentle in his manners, and graceful in his deportment, he acquired universal esteem and rendered himself greatly useful. Those who were the most intimate with him, esteemed him the most highly ; and while he enjoyed many friends, he never had an enemy.
" This amiableness of disposition, and gentleness of manners, will not render a man respectable, unless he is favored with a good natural genius, and with strong powers of mind; and these advantages Mr. Paine, in a great degree, possessed. Ilis understanding was good ; his judgment was cool, and his mem- ory was strong. He made good use of the advantages which an education of the most liberal kind gave him, and honored his instructors, while he adorned the university to which he belonged.
" All these talents, all these advantages, he devoted to the service of our Lord Jesus Christ in the ministry of the gospel. And in this important calling, it pleased God to render him very useful, for the little time which he was spared to us. With the modesty which becomes a young man, he pretended not to decide upon subjects of polemical divinity ; but with the integ- rity which is indispensable from the character of a good minis- ter, he preached 'Jesus Christ and him crucified.' 'Having separated himself, he sought and intermeddled with all wis- dom ;' and while he gave to other considerations their due weight, he fixed his principles 'on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner-stone.' His sermons were evangelical, judicious and practical, and his prayers breathed the spirit of true and genuine
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devotion. In his pastoral office, he naturally cared for the state of his flock, and discovered the most earnest desires to promote their best interests, for time and eternity. He rejoiced in their joy-he mourned in their sorrow, and he took pains to know their situation, 'visiting them from house to house.'
"But piety, true piety, deeply rooted in the heart, and acted out in the life, formed the brightest part of this good man's character; but his piety was not glaring and ostentatious; it proclaimed not itself at the corners of the streets; but at the same time, it scorned to hide itself when it was proper for it to appear. It burnt with a pure and a steady flame, and others, ' beholding it, have glorified their Father, who is in heaven.'
" A man of this character could not be inattentive to relative duties. He must have been dutiful as a son, affectionate as a brother, agreeable as a companion, and faithful as a friend. That Mr. Paine deserved all these epithets, the tears of those to whom he sustained these relations, are an ample testimony.
" It was this piety which supported him with such exemplary patience, through a long and painful sickness. It was his hope in the gospel, his reliance on the perfect righteousness of the Son of God, which gilded to him the dark valley of the shadow of death ! which enabled him to exclaim, in the moment when the taper of life was quivering in the socket, and the agonies of dissolving nature racked his whole frame, 'O death, where is thy sting ? O grave, where is thy victory ? The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law, but thanks be to God who giveth me the victory, through the Lord Jesus Christ !' It was this hope, this assurance of his interest in the great atonement, which enabled him so frequently to say in the awful hour of death, 'Come, Lord Jesus, come quickly ! why are thy chariot wheels so long in coming ?' and it was his firm faith in our divine and glorious Redeemer, which induced him to expire with the prayer of the martyr Stephen, 'Lord Jesus, into thine hand I commit my spirit,' quivering on his lips! Come, my brethren, 'see how a Christian can die !' see the triumphs of true religion over the most formidable enemies which are known to mankind ! ' Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace !' * It is but a short
* " Mr. Paine's modesty and unostentatious disposition did not suffer him to say much dur-
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time, my brethren of this church and congregation, since we rejoiced with you at the introduction of this our beloved brother to the work of the ministry among you. At this moment, I recollect the exultation of that day, and the bright and agreea- ble prospects which were before our eyes! Your union, your spiritual advantage, and the prosperity of this town, newly rising from its ashes, were prospects not too flattering for us rationally to indulge."
Thus suddenly and mournfully were the prospects of our church cut off, just as the people were beginning to fancy them- selves secure once more in the enjoyment of their religious privileges. And when this bereavement is taken in connection with the external condition of the town at that time, it will appear the more severe. The people were few in number, and limited in pecuniary means. In the year 1785, the houses and inhabitants of the town were numbered, and the buildings on the peninsula, many of which were temporary and soon taken down, were found to be 151, and the population 550. The buildings without the neck, were 128, and the population 449.
Mr. Paine was the last of a long series of pastors who died in the ministry of this church, and were interred in this town. For more than one hundred and fifty years an unbroken line of ministers, whose united ministry amounts to two hundred and seventeen years, died, as they had lived, in the pastoral office, and laid down their bones with those of their people. The ashes of Symmes, Harvard, the Shepards-father and son, Mor- ton, Bradstreet, Stevens, Abbot, Prentice and Paine, all now rest,
ing his illness. He contented himself with discovering a savor of religion npon his spirit, and expressing his submission to the will of heaven. But on the last night of his life, in which he was attended by his reverend father and another Christian friend, he appeared to give more indulgence to his feelings and to express more plainly the triumphs of his holy soul. In the agonies of death, he not only used the expressions above reeited, but exclaimed with a smile, " O my Jesus, why may I not come to thee ? Is not my Saviour ready for me ?' but at the same time expressed his desire and determination to be patient and to wait God's time. Ile kept calling upon his father to pray with him and to give him up solemnly to God, which was repeatedly done ; and in these solemn offices of religion he expressed the greatest satisfac- tion. He appeared to have a very quick sensibility of his pains and distresses, for he said, ' This is hard work, but this is nothing to what desus underwent for me and my sins!' When, through extreme weakness, his sight failed him, he called for a candle, but perceiving this failure was a symptom of immediate death, he exclaimed, 'I am just going ! Farewell, all my friends. Farewell all this world!' and then expired with the expression above related, in his mouth. There ean be no doubt of the exact truth of this account ; it was given me by a person of unquestionable veracity who was present, and I thought it proper to pub- lish it, to the honor of free grace, and for the support of those saints who, 'through fear of death, are all their life time subject to bondage.' "Pious and humble Christians often triumph the most sensibly in their last moments, and God causes their setting sun to shine with merid- ian brightness. ' May we die the death of the righteous, and may our latter end be like his.'" 1 2 Hist. Coll. ii. 169.
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with the thousands to whom they ministered, in yonder burying- ground. But, what is certainly a remarkable circumstance, you will not find a single memorial to designate the spot where their once loved and honored remains are deposited. Some of them were laid in the ministers' tomb, and this you may distinguish by reading upon it the name of Captain Richard Sprague-that most munificent benefactor of this church-who left his house for the ministers to reside in while they lived, and his tomb that they might lie with him when they died. Where the remainder were interred, we may conjecture, but cannot know ; their sepulchres are indeed with us unto this day ; but we shall strain our eyes in vain to decypher the inscriptions they bore-the flood of years that has swept over them has worn them nearly smooth. Surely, their memories ought not to be suffered to perish on the soil, which in life they honored and blest ; and it affords me pleasure to witness the cordial manner in which the proposition has been received, to place a tablet in the walls of our church, upon which their names shall be graven, to remind us and those who come after us, of their virtues and their services.1
In leaving behind us these venerated men, and the times in which they lived, and advancing to what remains of our history, we leave behind the historic part, and come, almost immedi- ately, into the present-agitated with exciting controversies that have not yet subsided. Hitherto the children of the Puri- tans had been of one faith and communion; they had walked to the house of God in company-they had taken sweet counsel together in the social interchanges of a community as closely cemented, and homogeneous, as any upon earth. The times were now coming for suspicions, heart-burnings, and angry discussions, which resulted in the running of division-lines through communities, churches and families. The faith which bore our Fathers over the waters, for which they braved the horrors of the wilderness and of savage warfare, which ulti- mately prepared them for, and made them worthy of the largest freedom any people ever enjoyed,-this faith was brought into discussion ; at first, it was secretly suspected, then indirectly attacked, and at last, publicly renounced. Of course, I shall not
1 Note 51.
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enter into the merits of this controversy ; but the part taken by this church makes it not only proper, but necessary that I should mention the principal facts which occasioned and ex- plained the division of the Congregational churches in Boston and Eastern New England into two distinct communions.
LECTURE IX.
ECCLESIASTES vii. 10.
SAY NOT THOU, WHAT IS THE CAUSE THAT THE FORMER DAYS WERE BETTER THAN THESE ? FOR THOU DOST NOT INQUIRE WISELY CONCERNING THIS.
AFTER the death of Mr. Paine, the church was without a pastor for about fourteen months. In the month of November, however, a unanimous call was extended to the Rev. Jedidiah Morse ; and his installation 1 as pastor of the chuch took place April 30, 1789. The sermon, appropriate to the occasion, was preached by the Rev. Jeremy Belknap, D. D., of the Federal- street church, Boston ; the charge was given by the Rev. Mr. Jackson, of Brookline, and the right hand of fellowship by the Rev. Mr. Osgood, of Medford.
Of this gentleman's personal history and character, it does not enter into my plan to say much. He occupied a large space both in the literary and theological world, and to present a full account of his varied labors and multiplied services, would far transgress my limits. As I intimated in the conclusion of the last Lecture, the administration of Dr. Morse was destined to be one of general agitation and severe trial. At the period of his settlement, and for some time after, although there was not entire unanimity of religious sentiment, there was no other house of public worship in the town than that in which he ministered. Our present religious divisions do not date back beyond the beginning of this century. The Baptists erected their house of worship in 1800; and the Universalists in 1810. But it was not until 1817, that the Congregationalists were divided ; in this year, several members of this church were dis- missed for the purpose of joining with others in the formation
1 Note 52.
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of a church in a Second Congregational society.1 This society, though Congregational in order, was Unitarian in faith, and originated in a controversy which began in 1815, and resulted in separating our church into two distinct communions.
Dr. Morse was prominently, if not principally engaged in this controversy, and in effecting a separation, by the suspen- sion of exchanges with those clergymen, who embraced the tenets of Unitarianism. It is incumbent upon me, therefore, to give some account of this great event ; and I shall endeavor to do it in the spirit of a Christian, and not of a partizan, by pre- senting the facts in the case as I have been able to obtain them from authorities on each side of the question.
It will be unnecessary to recapitulate any of the facts already mentioned, for the purpose of showing what the original faith of the churches of New England was, or that they were united in that faith. As early as 1648, our fathers gave in their unanimous adherence to the Westminster Confession ; this they did, as they say, that they might express their belief and pro- fession of "the same doctrines which had been generally re- ceived in all the reformed churches in Europe." And in 1680, the churches of the Commonwealth drew up a confession of faith, affirming the same doctrines and using nearly the same words as the Westminster. This is the authorized faith of the Congregational churches-the only faith which has ever been professed by the churches assembled by their pastors and representatives in synod or council. And this has been not only the publicly professed faith of our churches, but it has been the real or implied faith of every church calling itself Congregational. No doctrine has been taught in our pulpits contrary to our received standards, until within thirty years past ; previously to this, our churches were in outward fellow- ship; and disbelief, if entertained, was privately expressed. But as at the time of the division, a large number of our churches, together with the university, were found prepared to reject the cardinal doctrines of the orthodox faith, it is ap- parent that these doctrines had been a long time discussed and secretly rejected by many in the bosom of our churches. The history of this change, inasmuch as it was covered, and had but few outward events to mark it, cannot be traced and
I Note 55.
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developed to the satisfaction of every inquirer. If the causes of this defection are sought for, some of them may be dis- covered far back in our earliest history ; the first may be found in the union of church and state-a union of all the most unnatural, but in the time of our fathers, every where estab- lished, and supposed by all to be fit and necessary. From this union the church has always suffered more than the state. It has been injurious to the state, but destructive to the church. It increased the power of the civil rulers, but deprived a portion of the people of their just rights, and by converting the church into an engine of the state, it deprived her of her great ornament-the spirituality of her ministry and people. The principal tie which connected the church with the state in the days of our fathers, was the law which confined the right of suffrage to members of the church. This, as I have already mentioned, led the way to the adoption of the half-way cove- nant ; and so eventually neither membership in the church, nor even admission to the ministry, became evidence of an experi- mental persuasion of the doctrines professed and taught among us.
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