Here is abundant evidence of that scrupulous regard for historical truth, for which that upright and excellent man was ever remarkable. With most writers, the pride of authorship would have revolted. The very thought of these vestigia retrorsum, would not have found toleration, for a moment. Some less offensive mode might have been adopted, by the employment of errata, or appendices, or addenda. Not so: this conscientious man, however innocently, had misled the public, upon a few historical points, and nothing would give him satisfaction, but a public recantation. His right hand had not been the agent, like Cranmer’s, of voluntary falsehood, but of unintentional mistake, like Scævola’s; and nothing would suffice, in his opinion, but the actual cautery.
In this second life of Gosnold, p. 114, after describing “the island Elizabeth,” or Cuttyhunk, Dr. Belknap says—“To this spot I went, on the 20th day of June, 1797, in company with several gentlemen, whose curiosity and obliging kindness induced them to accompany me. The protecting hand of nature had reserved this favorite spot to herself. Its fertility and its productions are exactly the same, as in Gosnold’s time, excepting the wood, of which there is none. Every species of what he calls ‘rubbish,’ with strawberries, pears, tansy, and other fruits, and herbs, appear in rich abundance, unmolested by any animal but aquatic birds. We had the supreme satisfaction to find the cellar of Gosnold’s store-house.”
“We had the supreme satisfaction to find the cellar of Gosnold’s store-house!”—A whole-souled ejaculation this! I reverence the memory of the man who made it. It is not every other man we meet on ’Change, who can estimate a sentiment like this. My little Jew friend, in Griper’s Alley, entirely mistakes the case. Never having heard of Bart Gosnold before, he takes him, for the like of Kidd; and the venerable Dr. Jeremy Belknap, for a gold-finder. What supreme satisfaction could there be, in discovering the cellar of a store-house, nearly two hundred years old, unless hidden treasures were there concealed! How, in the name of two per cent. a month, and all the other gods we worship, could a visit down to Cuttyhunk ever pay, only to stare at the stones of an ancient cellar!
Dr. Belknap’s ejaculation reminds one of divers interesting matters—of Archimedes, when he leaped from his bath, and ran about naked, for joy, with eureka on his lips, having excogitated the plan, for detecting the fraud, practised upon Hiero.—It also recalls—parvis componere magna—Johnson’s memorable exclamation, upon walking over the graves, at Icolmkill—“To abstract the mind from all local emotion would be impossible, if it were endeavored, and would be foolish, if it were possible. Whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses; whatever makes the past, the distant or the future predominate over the present, advances us in the dignity of thinking beings. Far from me and from my friends be such frigid philosophy, as may conduct as indifferent and unmoved over any ground, which has been dignified by wisdom, bravery or virtue. That man is little to be envied, whose patriotism would not gain force upon the plains of Marathon, or whose piety would not grow warmer among the ruins of Iona.”
Dr. Jeremy Belknap was a Boston boy, born June 4, 1744. He learned his rudiments, under the effective birch of Master Lovell; graduated A. M. at Harvard, 1762, S. T. D. 1792. He was ordained pastor of the church in Dover, N. H. 1767; and in 1787, he became pastor of the church in Berry Street, formerly known as Johnny Moorehead’s, who was settled there in 1730, and succeeded, by David Annan, in 1783, and which is now Dr. Gannett’s.
Dr. Belknap was the founder of the Massachusetts Historical Society, and one of the most earnest promoters of the welfare of Harvard College.
Dr. Belknap published sermons, on various occasions; a volume of dissertations, on the character and resurrection of Christ; his history of New Hampshire in three volumes; his American Biography, in two volumes; and the Foresters, an American Tale, well worthy of republication, at the present day. He wrote extensively, in the newspapers, and published several essays, on the slave trade, and upon the early settlement of the country.
I have the most perfect recollection of this excellent man; for I saw him often, when I was very young; and I used to wonder, how a man, with so rough a voice, could bestow such a benign and captivating smile, upon little boys.
The churchman prays to be delivered from sudden death. Dr. Belknap prayed for sudden death—that he might be translated “in a moment”—such were his words. Yet here is no discrepancy. No man, prepared to die, will pray for a lingering death—and to him, who is not prepared, no death, however prolonged, can be other than sudden and premature. On the ninth of February, 1791, Dr. Belknap was called to mourn the loss of a friend, whose death was immediate. Among the Dr.’s papers, after his decease, the following lines were found, bearing the date of that friend’s demise, and exhibiting, with considerable felicity of language, his own views and aspirations:—
“When faith and patience, hope and love
Have made us meet for Heav’n above;
How blest the privilege to rise,
Snatch’d, in a moment, to the skies!
Unconscious, to resign our breath,
Nor taste the bitterness of death!
Such be my lot, Lord, if thou please
To die in silence, and at ease;
When thou dost know, that I’m prepared,
Oh seize me quick to my reward.
But, if thy wisdom sees it best,
To turn thine ear from this request;
If sickness be th’ appointed way,
To waste this frame of human clay;
If, worn with grief, and rack’d with pain,
This earth must turn to earth again;
Then let thine angels round me stand;
Support me, by thy powerful hand;
Let not my faith or patience move,
Nor aught abate my hope or love;
But brighter may my graces shine,
Till they’re absorbed in light divine.”