We are all loath to lose the good Doctor's company. An Israelite indeed! My aunt, who once tarried for a little time with him for the benefit of his skill in physic, on account of sickness, tells me that he is as a father to the people about him, advising them in all their temporal concerns, and bringing to a timely and wise settlement all their disputes, so that there is nowhere a more prosperous and loving society. Although accounted a learned man, he doth not perplex his hearers, as the manner of some is, with dark and difficult questions, and points of doctrine, but insisteth mainly on holiness of life and conversation. It is said that on one occasion, a famous schoolman and disputer from abroad, coming to talk with him on the matter of the damnation of infants, did meet him with a cradle on his shoulder, which he was carrying to a young mother in his neighborhood, and when the man told him his errand,—the good Doctor bade him wait until he got back, "for," said he, "I hold it to be vastly more important to take care of the bodies of the little infants which God in his love sends among us, than to seek to pry into the mysteries of His will concerning their souls." He hath no salary or tithe, save the use of a house and farm, choosing rather to labor with his own hands than to burden his neighbors; yet, such is their love and good-will, that in the busy seasons of the hay and corn harvest, they all join together and help him in his fields, counting it a special privilege to do so.
November 19.
Leonard and Mr. Richardson, talking upon the matter of the ministry, disagreed not a little. Mr. Richardson says my brother hath got into his head many unscriptural notions, and that he will never be of service in the Church until he casts them off. He saith, moreover, that he shall write to Mr. Ward concerning the errors of the young man. His words troubling me, I straightway discoursed my brother as to the points of difference between them; but he, smiling, said it was a long story, but that some time he would tell me the substance of the disagreement, bidding me have no fear in his behalf, as what had displeasured Mr. Richardson had arisen only from tenderness of conscience.
HAVERHILL, November 22.
Left Newbury day before yesterday. The day cold, but sunshiny, and not unpleasant. Mr. Saltonstall's business calling him that way, we crossed over the ferry to Salisbury, and after a ride of about an hour, got to the Falls of the Powow River, where a great stream of water rushes violently down the rocks, into a dark wooded valley, and from thence runs into the Merrimac, about a mile to the southeast. A wild sight it was, the water swollen by the rains of the season, foaming and dashing among the rocks and the trees, which latter were wellnigh stripped of their leaves. Leaving this place, we went on towards Haverhill. Just before we entered that town, we overtook an Indian, with a fresh wolf's skin hanging over his shoulder. As soon as he saw us, he tried to hide himself in the bushes; but Mr. Saltonstall, riding up to him, asked him if he did expect Haverhill folks to pay him forty shillings for killing that Amesbury wolf? "How you know Amesbury wolf?" asked the Indian. "Oh," said Mr. Saltonstall, "you can't cheat us again, Simon. You must be honest, and tell no more lies, or we will have you whipped for your tricks." The Indian thereupon looked sullen enough, but at length he begged Mr. Saltonstall not to tell where the wolf was killed, as the Amesbury folks did now refuse to pay for any killed in their town; and, as he was a poor Indian, and his squaw much sick, and could do no work, he did need the money. Mr. Saltonstall told him he would send his wife some cornmeal and bacon, when he got home, if he would come for them, which he promised to do.
When we had ridden off, and left him, Mr. Saltonstall told us that this Simon was a bad Indian, who, when in drink, was apt to be saucy and quarrelsome; but that his wife was quite a decent body for a savage, having long maintained herself and children and her lazy, cross husband, by hard labor in the cornfields and at the fisheries.
Haverhill lieth very pleasantly on the river-side; the land about hilly and broken, but of good quality. Mr. Saltonstall liveth in a stately house for these parts, not far from that of his father-in-law, the learned Mr. Ward. Madam, his wife, is a fair, pleasing young woman, not unused to society, their house being frequented by many of the first people hereabout, as well as by strangers of distinction from other parts of the country. We had hardly got well through our dinner (which was abundant and savory, being greatly relished by our hunger), when two gentlemen came riding up to the door; and on their coming in, we found them to be the young Doctor Clark, of Boston, a son of the old Newbury physician, and a Doctor Benjamin Thompson, of Roxbury, who I hear is not a little famous for his ingenious poetry and witty pieces on many subjects. He was, moreover, an admirer of my cousin Rebecca; and on learning of her betrothal to Sir Thomas did write a most despairing verse to her, comparing himself to all manner of lonesome things, so that when Rebecca showed it to me, I told her I did fear the poor young gentleman would put an end to himself, by reason of his great sorrow and disquiet; whereat she laughed merrily, bidding me not fear, for she knew the writer too well to be troubled thereat, for he loved nobody so well as himself, and that under no provocation would he need the Apostle's advice to the jailer, "Do thyself no harm." All which I found to be true,—he being a gay, witty man, full of a fine conceit of himself, which is not so much to be marvelled at, as he hath been greatly flattered and sought after.
The excellent Mr. Ward spent the evening with us; a pleasant, social old man, much beloved by his people. He told us a great deal about the early settlement of the town, and of the grievous hardships which many did undergo the first season, from cold, and hunger, and sickness. He thought, however, that, with all their ease and worldly prosperity, the present generation were less happy and contented than their fathers; for there was now a great striving to outdo each other in luxury and gay apparel; the Lord's day was not so well kept as formerly; and the drinking of spirits and frequenting of ordinaries and places of public resort vastly increased. Mr. Saltonstall said the war did not a little demoralize the people, and that since the soldiers cause back, there had been much trouble in Church and State. The General Court, two years ago, had made severe laws against the provoking evils of the times: profaneness, Sabbath-breaking, drinking, and revelling to excess, loose and sinful conduct on the part of the young and unmarried, pride in dress, attending Quakers' meetings, and neglect of attendance upon divine worship; but these laws had never been well enforced; and he feared too many of the magistrates were in the condition of the Dutch Justice in the New York Province, who, when a woman was brought before him charged with robbing a henroost, did request his brother on the bench to pass sentence upon her; for, said he, if I send her to the whipping post, the wench will cry out against me as her accomplice.
Doctor Clark said his friend Doctor Thompson had written a long piece on this untoward state of our affairs, which he hoped soon to see in print, inasmuch as it did hold the looking-glass to the face of this generation, and shame it by a comparison with that of the generation which has passed. Mr. Ward said he was glad to hear of it, and hoped his ingenious friend had brought the manuscript with him; whereupon, the young gentleman said he did take it along with him, in the hope to benefit it by Mr. Ward's judgment and learning, and with the leave of the company he would read the Prologue thereof. To which we all agreeing, he read what follows, which I copy from his book:—
"The times wherein old PUMPKIN was a saint,
When men fared hardly, yet without complaint,
On vilest cates; the dainty Indian maize
Was eat with clam-shells out of wooden trays,
Under thatched roofs, without the cry of rent,
And the best sauce to every dish, content,—
These golden times (too fortunate to hold)
Were quickly sinned away for love of gold.
'T was then among the bushes, not the street,
If one in place did an inferior meet,
'Good morrow, brother! Is there aught you want?
Take freely of me what I have, you ha'n't.'
Plain Tom and Dick would pass as current now,
As ever since 'Your servant, sir,' and bow.
Deep-skirted doublets, puritanic capes,
Which now would render men like upright apes,
Was comelier wear, our wise old fathers thought,
Than the cast fashions from all Europe brought.
'T was in those days an honest grace would hold
Till an hot pudding grew at heart a-cold,
And men had better stomachs for religion,
Than now for capon, turkey-cock, or pigeon;
When honest sisters met to pray, not prate,
About their own and not their neighbors' state,
During Plain Dealing's reign, that worthy stud
Of the ancient planter-race before the Flood.