IV.
The Dominant Type of Religious Life and Thought in New England in the
First Half of this Century. Literary Influences. Letter of Cyrus Hamlin.
A Strange Coincidence.
A brief notice of the general type of religious life and thought, which prevailed at this time in New England, will throw light upon both the preceding and following pages. Elizabeth's early Christian character, although largely shaped by that of her father, was also, like his, vitally affected by the religious spirit and methods then dominant. Several distinct elements entered into the piety of New England at that period, (1.) There was, first of all, the old Puritan element which the Pilgrim Fathers and their immediate successors brought with them from the mother-country, and which had been nourished by the writings of the great Puritan divines of the seventeenth century—such as Baxter, Howe, Bunyan, Owen, Matthew Henry, and Flavel—by the "Imitation of Christ," and Bishop Taylor's "Holy Living and Dying," and by such writers as Doddridge, Watts, and Jonathan Edwards of the last century. This lay at the foundation of the whole structure, giving it strength, solidity, earnestness, and power. (2.) But it was modified by the so-called Evangelical element, which marked large sections of the Church of England and most of the Dissenting bodies in Great Britain during the last half of the eighteenth and the early part of the nineteenth century. The writings of John Newton, Richard Cecil, Hannah More, Thomas Scott, Cowper, Wilberforce, Leigh Richmond, John Foster, Andrew Fuller, and Robert Hall—not to mention others—were widely circulated in New England and had great influence in its pulpits and its Christian homes. Their admirable spirit infused itself into thousands of lives, and helped in many ways to improve the general tone both of theological and devotional sentiment. (3.) But another element still was the new Evangelistic spirit, which inaugurated and still informs those great movements of Christian benevolence, both at home and abroad, that are the glory of the age. Dr. Payson's ministry began just before the formation of the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, and before his death mission-work had come to be regarded as quite essential to the piety and prosperity of the Church. The Lives of David Brainerd, Henry Martyn, Harriet Newell, and others like them, were household books. (4.) Nor should the "revival" element be omitted in enumerating the forces that then shaped the piety and religious thought of New England. The growth of the Church and the advancement of the cause of Christ were regarded as inseparable from this influence. A revival was the constant object of prayer and effort on the part of earnest pastors and of the more devout among the people. Far more stress was laid upon special seasons and measures of spiritual interest and activity than now—less upon Christian nurture as a means of grace, and upon the steady, normal development of church life. Many of the most eminent, devoted, and useful servants of Christ, whose names, during the last half century, have adorned the annals of American faith and zeal, owed their conversion, or, if not their conversion, some of their noblest and strongest Christian impulses, to "revivals of religion." (5.) To all these should perhaps, be added another element—namely, that of the new spirit of reform and the new ethical tone, which, during the third and fourth decades of this century especially, wrought with such power in New England. Of this influence and of the philanthropic idea that inspired it, Dr. Channing may be regarded as the most eminent representative. It brought to the front the humanity and moral teaching of Christ, as at once the pattern and rule of all true progress, whether individual or social; and it was widely felt, even where it was not distinctly recognised or understood. Whatever errors or imperfections may have belonged to it, this influence did much to soften the dogmatism of opinion, to arouse a more generous, catholic type of sentiment, to show that the piety of the New Testament is a principle of universal love to man, as well as of love to God, and to emphasise the sovereign claims of personal virtue and social justice. These truths, to be sure, were not new; but in the great moral-reform movements and conflicts—to a certain extent even in theological discussions—that marked the times, they were asserted and applied with extraordinary clearness and energy of conviction; and, as the event has proved, they were harbingers of a new era of Christian thought, culture and conduct, both in private and public life.
Such were some of the religious influences which surrounded Mrs. Prentiss during the first twenty years of her life, and which helped to form her character. She was also strongly affected, especially while passing from girlhood into early womanhood, by the literary influences of the day. Poetry and fiction were her delight. She was very fond of Wordsworth, Tennyson, and Longfellow; while the successive volumes of Dickens were read by her with the utmost avidity. Mrs. Payson's house was a good deal visited by scholars and men of culture. Her eldest daughter had already become somewhat widely known by her writings. In the extent, variety and character of her attainments she was, in truth, a marvel. Indeed, she quite overshadowed the younger sister by her learning and her highly intellectual conversation. And yet Elizabeth also attracted no little attention from some who had been first drawn to the house by their friendship for Louisa. [12] Among her warmest admirers was Mr. John Neal, then well known as a man of letters; he predicted for her a bright career as an author. Still, it was her personal character that most interested the visitors at her mother's house. This may be illustrated by an extract from a letter of Mr. Hamlin to a friend of the family in New York, written in April, 1838, while he was their temporary pastor. Mr. Hamlin has since become known throughout the Christian world by his remarkable career as a missionary in Turkey, and as organiser of Robert College. A few months after the letter was written he set sail for Constantinople, accompanied by his wife, whose early death was the cause of so much grief among all who knew her. [13] I should like to write a long letter about dear Elizabeth. I have seen her more since Louisa left and I love her more. She has a peculiar charm for me. I think she has a quick and excellent judgment, refined sensibilities, and an instinctive perception of what is fit and proper…. It seems to me there is a great deal of purity—of the spirituelle—about her feelings. But I can not tell you exactly what it is that makes me think so highly of her. It is a nameless something resulting from her whole self, from her sweet face and mouth, her eye full of love and soul, her form and motion. I do not think she likes me much, I have paid so much attention to Louisa and so little to herself. Yet she is not one of those who claim attention, but rather shrinks from it. She may have faults of which I have no knowledge. But I am charmed with everything I have seen of her.
How strange are the chance coincidences of human life! In another letter to the same friend in New York, in which Mr. Hamlin refers in a similar manner to Elizabeth, occur these words:
In a few weeks I hope to be in Dorset, among the Green Mountains, where my thoughts and feelings have their centre above all places on this earth. I wish you could be present at my wedding there on the third of September.
How little did he dream, when penning these words, or did his friend dream while reading them, that, after the lapse of more than forty years, the "dear Elizabeth" would find her grave near by the old parsonage in which that wedding was to be celebrated, while the dust of the lovely daughter of Dorset would be sleeping on the distant shores of the Bosphorus!
[1] For many years after the publication of his Memoir, it was so often given to children at their baptism that at one time those who bore it, in and out of New England, were to be numbered by hundreds, if not thousands. "I once saw the deaths of three little Edward Paysons in one paper," wrote Mrs. Prentiss in 1832.
[2] He was the author of a curious work entitled, "Proofs of the real Existence, and dangerous Tendency, of Illuminism." Charlestown, 1802. By "Illuminism" he means an organised attempt, or conspiracy, to undermine the foundations of Christian society and establish upon its ruins the system of atheism.
[3] "I spent part of last evening reading over some old letters of my grandmother's and never realised before what a remarkable woman she was both as to piety and talent."—From a letter of Mrs. Prentiss, written in 1864.
[4] In a letter to his mother,—written when Elizabeth was three years old, he says: "E. has a terrible abscess, which we feared would prove too much for her slender constitution. We were almost worn out with watching; and, just as she began to mend, I was seized with a violent ague in my face, which gave me incessant anguish for six days and nights together, and deprived me almost entirely of sleep. Three nights I did not close my eyes. When well nigh distracted with pain and loss of sleep, Satan was let loose upon me, to buffet me, and I verily thought would have driven me to desperation and madness."
[5] The late President Wayland.
[6] Prof. Calvin E. Stowe, D.D.
[7] The late Rev. Absalom Peters, D.D.
[8]
I can see the breezy dome of groves,
The shadows of Deering's Woods;
And the friendships old and the early loves
Come back with a Sabbath sound, as of doves
In quiet neighborhoods.
And the verse of that sweet old song,
It flutters and murmurs still:
"A boy's will is the wind's will,
And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."
—LONGFELLOW'S My Lost Youth.
[9] "The Lament of the Last Peach" had been written by her a year before when in Brooklyn, and her friend's brother had sent it to "The Knickerbocker," the popular Magazine of that day. Here it is:
LAMENT OF THE LAST PEACH.
In solemn silence here I live,
A lone, deserted peach;
So high that none but birds and winds
My quiet bough can reach.
And mournfully, and hopelessly,
I think upon the past;
Upon my dear departed friends,
And I, the last—the last.
My friends! oh, daily one by one
I've seen them drop away;
Unheeding all the tears and prayers
That vainly bade them stay.
And here I hang alone, alone—
While life is fleeing fast;
And sadly sigh that I am left
The last, the last, the last.
Farewell, then, thou my little world
My home upon the tree,
A sweet retreat, a quiet home
Thou mayst no longer be;
The willow trees stand weeping nigh,
The sky is overcast,
The autumn winds moan sadly by,
And say, the last—the last!
[10] "Dear Lizzy is in her little school. Her pupils love her dearly. She will have about thirty in the summer."—Letter of Mrs. Payson, March 28, 1839.
[11] Three years later Elizabeth thus referred to this period in the life of her friend:—"During the time in which she was seeking the Saviour with all her heart, I was much with her and had an opportunity to see every variety of feeling as she daily set the whole before me. The affection thus acquired is, I believe, never lost. If I live forever, I shall not lose the impressions which I then received—the deep anxiety I felt lest she should finally come short of salvation, and then the happiness of having her lost in contemplation of the character of Him whom she had so often declared it impossible to love."
[12] Old friends of her father also became much interested in her. Among them was Simon Greenleaf, the eminent writer on the law of evidence, and Judge Story's successor at Harvard. On removing to Cambridge, in 1833, he gave her with his autograph a little volume entitled, "Hours for Heaven; a small but choice selection of prayers, from eminent Divines of the Church of England," which long continued to be one of her books of devotion.
[13] See the touching memorial of her, "Light on the Dark River," prepared by her early friend, Mrs. Lawrence.