temporary, also, in many instances (even within five miles) with three or four of the several successors of christian ministers, who, I trust, are now in heaven. All the members of the Council, both clergymen and laymen, who ordained me here, have long since passed into the land where all things are forgotten; the last of them (Rev. Dr. Porter) nine years since. And I now stand the oldest ordained minister connected with a parish without a colleague, and who still preaches, of all christian denominations, throughout the commonwealth with the exception of one only,* and yet it seems to me as though I myself were but of yesterday. A new society has arisen up and yet another and another since my residence here, in the place of the old; and instead of the fathers I see only six pews now occupied, on the same spot in this house by their descendants. Strangers to them fill their seats, and the places that once knew them will know them no more forever. My own immediate family has had its sad bereavements, too, and it is not with me, as it once was. But standing this day as I do between the congregation of the living and the dead, I have every cause of cheerfulness and grateful recollections. The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places, yea, and I have a goodly heritage. I thank God for his unmerited mercies. Without boasting of startling achievements, (for I never sought such,) we have gone on for half a century in a quiet, unostentatious way, such as I always have loved, and always shall, — quiet, unostentatious! Ours, has been a singularly favored society. Peace has spread over us her brightest banner. God grant that celestial dove may here fix her lasting abode, and bless you and your children's children, long after I shall be gathered to the dust of my fathers, and have no further concern in any thing that is done under the sun. What traces of change in society, likewise, has the past fifty years left behind them! When I first came amongst you, this was a quiet, retired, moral little village, and there was not a single allurement, either to physical, moral or religious intemperance or excess to be found within * Rev. Dr. Peter Eaton, of Boxford, Mass., my College mate. its limits. The simplicity of manners, too, remind of Goldsmith's Deserted Village,— "Sweet Auburn, loveliest village of the plain, Where health and virtue cheered the laboring train." Fashionable manners, in all their endless forms and fickleness, were unknown here then.The good dames' visits were made at an early hour in the afternoon, (sometimes by two o'clock,) each with her "knitting work," still going on, while engaged in social converse; and at dusk rolling up their work, and returning home, refreshed from their social intercourse, to their domestic enjoyments and duties, which they wisely and justly considered as paramount to all others. Their firesides never tired them, nor did they wish or want any other winter evenings' entertainments than they found around their own happy hearths. Sweet homes, indeed! filled with well behaved, rosy, industrious boys, and lively, healthy, blooming girls, as full of godly sincerity as they were of godly simplicity, all of whom more than supplied the want of any other amusement. There was godliness with contentment, which is great gain; and there was more, too, of true happiness in those humble dwellings, than all the modern refinement of art, of wealth or fashion combined, can now boast, or ever impart. Sweet days, indeed, in the recollection as they were in the enjoyment! But these happy hours must return no more. They are numbered with the years before the flood. "These were thy charms, sweet village, joys like these, GOLDSMITH. There seemed, also, perfect union of purpose and action in almost every person and every thing. And in this respect, and only respect, in which men have any right to expect, or ever will realize it if they do, "they had all things in common." Whenever a new dwelling was contemplated, the whole neighborhood volunteered its services, prepared and stoned the cellar and well, and gave often days of labor to aid and speed on the object. There existed, also, at that time, but one religious sentiment and feeling. Like the early Christians, to them there was one faith one baptism, one God and Father of all, who was above all, and through all, and in all, and one Savior, Jesus Christ the Redeemer of the world. Or, if any difference of opinion did exist amongst them, they who had it, had it to themselves. And so it continued till within a very short period. All met and worshipped together in this place. But the fashion of the world passeth away, and here we have no continuing city. In this whole town there were only three churches and three ministers, all of one heart and of one mind, brothers literally in every kind feeling and affection, and as perfectly known, loved and understood by each other, as though they had been actual brothers. , Now there are eleven churches and eleven ministers, and fifteen other clergymen besides, making in amount twenty-six, and of almost as many varying creeds, most of them scarcely known to each other even by name, though residing so near, much less by neighborly, or social and friendly intercourse, as formerly. every But we of this society have enjoyed freedom from all those religious contentions and disputes, which do so much mischief where, and have broken in pieces so many of the fairest societies around us; and whenever we could no longer agree, we have peaceably separated. And I owe it in truth and gratitude to say to you this day, my friends, (and I should prove myself an ingrate if I did not,) that your uniform fidelity to all your engagements, your past kindness to me and mine for so many revolving years, your respectful attention to my ministry, your public spirit, your generous sympathies in all my distresses, your moral and religious deportment, ever since my settlement among you have riveted you all, to my heart, and will forever endear the memory of my relation to you to my last hour. Unkindnesses I have received none from any of you, and for all the countless favors you have shown me, the recollection of which I shall carry with me to the grave, may God reward you seven fold into your bosoms. And I doubt not that he will reward you; for they were intended to promote the cause of truth and goodness through my humble means, and my most fervent prayers and best wishes will always be yours. I had fondly hoped it would have been my happiness, when ever God should see fit to call me to account of my stewardship, to leave you not as sheep without a shepherd, but in the hands of one who I knew loved you, and deserved your love in return; and who I trusted would never lead you into worldly philosophy for christian truth; but ask for you the light of Christ, and seek and ask none other for you or himself; and I prayed that his years might be many, and useful and happy to himself, and your joy be full and complete in him here, and glorious hereafter. But God has ordered it otherwise. He destroyeth the hope of man, and has removed from beneath me that pillar upon which I had so fondly leaned. My bright hope has now vanished away, and I am left alone to encourage and sustain both you and myself in our painful conflicts. He was indeed a burning and a shining light, and for a season we rejoiced in it. He had fulfilled much, but promised more. Alas! that God has quenched that light in darkness, and that it shall no more cheer our earthly path. Yet has it arisen bright in the heavens, and shall for ever continue its cloudless splendor there. Let us be thankful that we enjoyed it so far, and consider him who has now gone from us not as lost to us forever, but as still living about us and for us, and interested in our welfare, and as a part of that treasure we have laid up for ourselves in heaven. My friends, on this occasion a thousand awakening reflections crowd upon my mind. I have reached the appointed age of man. I have administered fifty years at this altar the word, and broken to you the bread of life. How successfully or otherwise my ministry has been, can be ascertained only at the great rising day. I lament that it has not accomplished more, and that it has fallen so short both of my own wishes and duties, and of your prayers and my own. Yet at this moment (and why should I conceal it?) I enjoy a gladdening testimony that, however defective I may have been, my heart condemns me not in my habitual desires or labors to do what I could. Nor do I recollect a single instance during that period, and this is a thoughtful one of my life, — that I ever did not cheerfully sacrifice self-convenience and self-indulgence to the faintest call of sorrow, or of parochial duty, affection or service to the humblest of my people as much as to the most exalted; and that my most earnest desires and efforts have been to promote amongst them all a spirit of calm, unostentatious piety to God, of love, kindness and good will to the whole family of man. I am not aware that I have forgotten or neglected any one. If I have, the omission was perfectly unintentional. And I hope that all my imperfections, of which I know I have sufficient, may be viewed with christian charity, and consigned to that oblivion into which I myself must shortly pass. It would have been gratifying to me this day to have seen some more visible fruit of my labors. But it is best that I should not. God often orders that one shall sow the grain, and another come afterwards and reap the crop. But if the crop be insured, all that could be desired is effected. I say nothing of the few who honor Christ at his sacred altar, or of my regret, too, which I deeply feel, at the neglect of the institution of christian baptism, which seems to extend to most of our churches. Such a growing indifference to the institutions of the gospel is, to my mind at least, nearly allied to a sickly condition of the religious character; and when the christian Sabbath, the christian church and christian ministry, are considered of doubtful authority, all christian piety will soon be swept away with them. Outward forms, let what will be said to the contrary, notwithstanding, are still the great avenues to the heart and affections; and if these go not along with our religion its wheels will drag heavily along. Yet it is hard to persuade myself that the neglect in either instances I am speaking of, has arisen among you from apathy. I rather apprehend it has been grounded in too much fear, which time and correct knowledge are now destroying, and I hope 'ere long may be totally destroyed. And my firm belief is, that this people have been as moral and religious as in most societies, where, under religious fanaticism and extravagance, throngs have crowded the altar for a time, but soon have fallen away, and left cold indifference behind. The present is indeed, in a singular degree, an age of feverish excitement and excess in almost every thing, -- fashionable, scientific, political, moral and religious. There is abroad a restless agitation, a morbid desire of innovation, and after all still craving something new; and unsatisfied with it when possessed, till melancholy increases as men advance in years, "like shadows lengthening towards the close of the day." Men, it appears to me, are leaving reason and common sense |