Imagination, without which there is no blue sky of starred excellence in our being, is a faculty which in some degree of richness operates in all creative minds. It was often playfully and often seriously active in the mind of Joseph Badger. It aided his free and happy use of language. It brought to his service a vast number of natural illustrations and figures, both for the ornament of public discourse and social conversation; and in the good taste and fancy, of which the clearest evidences exist, is also implied that something finer than the understanding enriched him. He held in his mind a high standard of poetry; therefore he never sought to approach it by creations of his own. He had intense feeling and delicacy of sentiment, and withal a vein of marvellousness that caused him at times to note in his diary the dreams of his midnight slumber, on which he would afterwards linger in sober reflection. Among his private papers there are a few instances in which his strong presentiments are recorded. The generous enthusiasm of his nature, that gave so much life to his early labors, and that always rendered his influence enlivening, is well balanced by the deliberate intellect that imparted to his action and manner the impress of composure. But it is as a matter-of-fact man chiefly, as a utilitarian in the best sense of that word, as a definite thinker, that his true character appears in the world. He was a great and a natural planner, was most in his element when standing in the centre of some enterprise which aimed at important practical results. In every cause he undertook, his power to concentrate himself upon the single end before him was immense.
Though possessed of great suavity of manners and smoothness of speech, in power of will and in firmness of decision he had few equals. He labored with great fidelity and perseverance toward the achievement of his main purpose. He could smile or laugh at the sharpest opposition that might be expressed in his presence, could speak of his plans without using tenacious language, but everything proved in the long run, the power of his will and the solidity of his purpose. His will was by nature and discipline strong, very strong; and he had that which took away the offence which strong-willed persons usually give. Instead of appearing at all wilful, or stubborn, he cast himself upon the assignation of the best reasons, and demeaned himself in a conciliatory bearing toward all. He knew how to give in and how to waive minor matters that he might compromise people of different opinions and prejudices, for which he possessed great tact and skill. Yet when opposition became decided and open, he had no great patience or long-suffering towards the obstacles that stood in his way. He wanted them out of the path, and set to work for their removal. Though he was always courteous, and in social greetings cordial to all, even to enemies and opposers who happened to meet him, he had no taste for rivalry and opposition. He sought to cripple the power of whatever stood in the way as a solid barrier to the success of his dearly cherished plans, an attribute this, which strong actors in the world have, we believe, very commonly possessed, from Napoleon of Corsica to the great Democrat of the Hermitage. The kindness of his nature was native and overflowing; but there were circumstances under which his severity was equally conspicuous. Nevertheless, toward the conquered party, his generosity naturally reacted in forms of kindness, and of such, at last, he often made permanent friends and co-workers.
The sympathies and kindness of Mr. Badger, I have elsewhere alluded to as being great. He had a large power of friendship. From this phase of his nature, proceeded his facility for making friends and attaching them to himself. His friends became numerous wherever he went. We cannot account for so noble a fact, without conceding to him the possession of a heart in which the magnetism of human kindness was great, for it takes a power to awaken a power, and selfishness alone never became the radiant centre about which the hearts of the many were happily drawn. The power of sympathy and friendship is an attraction which, like the physical property in nature designated by this name, is in proportion to the quantity of the source from which it flows; also, the proximity or the distance of objects, which suggests another law of this material energy, is likewise true in the world of friendship. For it is nearness, that is to say, it is kindredness of mind, feeling, and experience; it is the ability to furnish other hearts with the true objects of their own affections, that qualifies one to sit as king or queen on the throne of friendship and love. He who lawfully sways this sceptre over the multitudes, is one in whom the many are represented, who is truly brother to each and to all. Viewed from this sentiment, how can the influences of Joseph Badger be accounted for, except on the ground that his heart was truly great and brotherly? A community of strangers into which he might come soon felt the power of this attraction. Said the honest Barton W. Stone, of Kentucky, in a letter of welcome to his intended second visit to the South:—"Your name is dear to the people of Georgetown. Many are anxiously hoping to greet you;"—though he had but once visited Georgetown and other localities south and west, his name remained in the hearts of the people. This is but a common illustration of what generally occurred in places where he preached several sermons and freely mingled with the people. As a strong example of the lasting attachment he had the power to inspire in his friends, I would mention a circumstance recorded in his private journal while at Boston.
Mr. Jonas Clark, of Dublin, Cheshire Co., N. H., a man of sound mind, who had not seen Mr. B. for thirteen years, but had listened to his early ministry, went to meet him at Boston, August 20, 1828. On coming into his presence he took him by the hand and said: "Can this be Joseph, my friend?" On being answered in the affirmative, he was unable to reply; but turning away his head and leaning over a desk near by, he wept in silence. The memories of the past that rushed into his mind were golden by affection, and years of time and much mingling with the world had not effaced or marred the sacred impress of former years. "Oh, what majesty," said Mr. B., "there is in such tears of love! True friendship is more lasting than time, and it outlives every other principle." Though Mr. Badger had an intellect that was strong and peculiarly original and self-relying, we think on the whole that his stronghold was far more in the hearts of the people than in their merely intellectual regard and admiration. His neighbors who have lived near him for twenty and thirty years, testify to the strict and uniform kindness of his feelings and acts as a neighbor.
To young ministers and to feeble churches, he extended the wealth of his sympathy. He was both a brother in Christ and a father in Israel. Particularly was his sympathy deep and strong for young men just entering into the ministry. Many things in his own life qualified him to be their benefactor. He had himself passed through great trials of mind and of outward circumstances, when a young man of nineteen and twenty, as the result of his choice, or rather of his acceptance of the preacher's mission. No young man would be likely to stand in the midst of greater embarrassments than he had stood. Then his extensive observation of men and things, his knowledge of human nature, his own varied experience of years in the Gospel ministry, his tender sympathies, his gentle and easy manners, which took away fear and restraint, peculiarly fitted him for a nearness of access to their minds, to render them counsel to meet their doubts, and to give them instruction and needful encouragement. He had great skill with which to inspire hope in a young man. He could prune his defective habits, also, without giving offence; and well did he know how to set his mind upon new trains of thought. First of all, it was his policy to find out the real material of a young man's mind, to learn his real character. To effect this, he gradually threw off whatever in manner should serve to impose restraint, became familiar, perhaps in some instances greatly so, and turned conversation so as to hit on every side of human nature and of the supposed character of the person whose mental and moral dimensions he desired to take. In a few days, at most, he developed his characteristics far enough to be completely satisfied of his capacity, principles and promise. I do not say that this was his method in all cases, but I know of some instances in which it was, and have heard of it in others. The wisdom of this procedure appears in the fact that to qualify young men for the ministry, respect must be had for what in them is individual, as there are no uniform theological moulds into which human nature can be successfully fused and run; and it had the advantage also of enabling the counsellor to decide at the beginning, the most important of all questions, whether a young man is not mistaking the meaning of God as announced in his nature, by assuming the position of a spiritual leader. He gave them books to read and to keep; taught them the great importance of a healthy degree of physical culture; gave them his views of the most useful and successful methods of preaching; taught the supreme importance of religious experience; looked out for them fields of labor, took them to his own appointments, made journeys with them, and if any diffident young man of merit was mortified at the imperfection and feebleness of his own public efforts, he had the finest skill in restoring to him his lost confidence. Many whose conversions took place under his preaching, became ministers; and very many owe their earliest and best lessons in the ministry to his examples and counsels. To sum up his faculty in this direction, in few words, I should say, he greatly excelled in the power of calling out the minds of others, in developing their resources for good.
He was in the habit of treating young men as if he respected their wisdom. He asked their advice on his own plans and enterprises. This he did, not so much to receive new information as to set their minds upon practical thinking, and to connect their sympathy and intelligence with that which should increase their knowledge. He was always very fond of young people; and nothing more readily enlisted his attention than the appearance of a young man of promise just entering the Gospel ministry. He cordially took him by the hand, welcomed him to his own fireside, and invariably and reverently taught him that there is no station in the universe, that can be occupied by a human being, which is in itself so truly honorable and so sacredly responsible as that of the Christian minister. The same genial power of development here spoken of in regard to young ministers, was equally manifest in relation to young writers. Very much of his influence was genial; therefore, like the sun's ray, it called out the life on which it shone.
His sympathy was also cosmopolitan. He had a passion to know the stirring events of the world. The great enterprises and achievements in different countries awakened him. He was uncommonly fond of the news. A new school of philosophers springing up in a foreign country would not escape his notice; but he had far greater interest in a new series of events that might be unfolding, and auguring changes in the empires and in the social condition of man. He watched the nations. He also watched the various sects and political parties of his own country. He read every week the most widely circulated Roman Catholic paper of the new continent, studied the olden structure of their organization; and freely and respectfully visited Roman Catholic clergymen whenever he found a resident priest within the vicinity of his own labors. Father William O'Reilly, of Rochester, a very worthy man in the Catholic ministry, frequently received his calls and most kindly reciprocated his friendship. Mr. Badger had indeed no tendencies whatever toward Roman Catholicism, but he profoundly respected religion and human nature, and was pleased to see them in their various phases and manifestations. There were, I would opine, several elements in the Mother Church that had his respect. Indeed, how could it have been otherwise? Protestantism has not in the main been largely originative in theology. Nearly all its great doctrines coming under the head of dogma, are even now those that exist in Rome and that proceeded from Rome. Omission and modification, more than origination are, thus far, the distinction of what is most revered in Protestant faith. In the preaching of Joseph Badger, all seemed to feel the wide and liberal sympathy of his doctrines. Said General Ross, of Wilkesbarre, who went some half a dozen miles to hear him speak, October, 1830:—"I never heard such republican preaching as that before. The society who hold to these principles must prosper."
Within the view here offered, mention might justly be made of the reach of influence he gained over the diverse grades of man. The intelligent and the ignorant, the believer and the sceptic, the man of inward holiness, and the hardest specimens of sin and unbelief, looked up when they heard he was in town; and, from some earnest sympathy, felt that they should hear him. He seemed to have a key fitted to unlock all hearts, so that, from murderers and drunkards, as well as from the penitent and faithful, he drew a tear, and won a confidence through which he had access to what was best in their being. It not unfrequently happened that he had those in his audience who would have listened to no one else, and some who were noted for boldness and originality of sin he ofttimes persuaded into a divine faith, in which they were steadfast and life-long in their pursuit. What signify such phenomena? At least this is implied, that the speaker had a wide form of sympathy, and that the manifold experiences of the world were comprehended by him.
In meeting him often, one never felt that he met a stereotyped man. He was new at each period. So testify his old parishioners. They say, that, in every sermon, there was something fresh, something that was unsaid at previous times, and was new to them. Those who had been acquainted with him for years would see new traits of character, as the varying phase of circumstance and association might suggest. He was plain-spoken; yet, beyond that plain, bold speech, the reserved and the unspoken could often claim large territories their own. Indeed, no man of depths was ever read throughout as an alphabet is read.