Probably there are very few, if any, original documents in America of so ancient a date which have been preserved, and which are still in force, as this identical covenant, which has been signed and kept by hundreds in each generation for nearly three centuries. Far superior to the Andover creed, or to any other creed of seminary, council, or church, it has ever been a bond of union, and not a bone of contention. Aptly phrased and including all the essential conditions of a vital church organization, it will stand for centuries to come, and will outlast all creeds of human invention, ever promoting beneficence and charity.
This poem represents the spirit of Governor Winthrop returning to the city and the capital of the Christian Commonwealth he had founded, and taking possession of the bodily form which the artist has reproduced of him, clothed in his own antique costume. He surveys the extended limits of Boston, including Charlestown, with Bunker Hill Monument, and four other townships with hundreds of church steeples pointing to the sky. He misses from the old site on Cornhill the single house of worship where Wilson and Cotton preached, and where he was wont to expound; but soon he descries from afar, in his mind's eye, standing where, in his time, the waves of the sea were surging, the beautiful church edifice and the elegant chapel where five hundred Sunday-scholars are weekly taught. He dwells with supreme satisfaction upon the good deeds done by the church he established, and predicts for it a still more prosperous future and a greater spiritual growth. He recognizes only two things which existed in his day, and have remained unchanged,—the church covenant he wrote, as it were, by inspiration, or at least by a wise forecast of future needs, and the Communion cup he gave, which has singularly escaped the hazards of fire and the chances of time, and which has been, ever since, constantly used in the holy commemorative service.
Upon these almost universal changes he makes some appropriate reflections. To "sit in the stocks" was a punishment commonly imposed in his time for various offences. Richard Frothingham, in his "History of Charlestown," gives a view of the stocks that were set in the market-place with this mode of punishment applied. The view is here reproduced. "It was much used," says Frothingham, "and several times repaired. A sentence by the selectmen for 'drinking to excess,' shows that one hour's sitting in the stocks could be compromised by paying 3s. 4d. money." Winthrop, of course, would be struck with the different use of the word now so frequently spoken. From the fact that all investments of his day are swept out of existence, he predicts that the properties now held as most secure and reliable will in as long a time disappear. He illustrates the superiority of man, in his own best estate, to all worldly possessions.
Sitting in the stocks
His allusion to the vision of Rev. John Wilson, the first minister of the church, recalls the following passage in his diary as quoted by Hon. Robert C. Winthrop in his "Life and Letters of John Winthrop," vol. 2, page 108.
"The pastor of Boston, Mr. Wilson, a very sincere, holy man, ... told the governour that, before he was resolved to come into this country, he dreamed he was here, and that he saw a church arise out of the earth, which grew up and became a marvellous goodly church."
The present church edifice well answers this description; built with exquisite taste after a most appropriate design, and bearing the palm of all the costly churches in the new part of Boston for fitness, beauty, and permanency.