Elijah Kellogg, the Man and His Work / Chapters from His Life and Selections from His Writings

by Unknown

I have been to Brunswick and preached to the students in Memorial Hall. I will send you and Mary both a notice of it. There are two magazines and you can exchange them. I feel quite happy that I have got through with the students. They checkmated me. I did not want to go and did not mean to, but Dr. Mason, the minister at Brunswick, and President Hyde wrote me and backed them up, and also the Brunswick people who gave me a good deal at the donation and have for several years followed suit; I had to give in. I was afraid I should not be able to see in the evening, as the hall is very large and I have been preaching in a small house for two years; but there was no trouble. It was a splendid light and I had the service all in my own hands; no responsive readings. The students did the singing and gave me two anthems. After it was all over, I had to shake hands with twenty-five or thirty, and President Hyde said he could hear every word.

The town has made a road to the Lookout. They are going to build a wharf in the spring, and the Mere Point boat will run there. It will be of no benefit. It will bring a Sunday boat, rum, and tramps of all kinds.

Letter to son, March 29, 1894.

I am glad you are having such good weather, and that you are enjoying yourself setting out fruit trees. You can see now why it is that I am so much attached to this spot. I have been through just what you are going through now. I am eating the fruit of the trees I have planted and grafted, and am sheltered by them in the winter and sit under their shadow in the summer. Such labors attach us in a most singular manner to the spot we have improved. The trees seem almost like children.

Letter to son, Jan. 22, 1895.

You ought to have been here to take supper with us last night. I got a peck of large clams. Fannie baked the most of them and we set to work tooth and nail. I never ate so many before in my life at one time. I was almost afraid to go to bed, but I had a good night’s sleep and experienced no trouble. We have had very cold weather till the last week when it has been moderate. Until last Thursday I have not been to Brunswick since the week before Christmas. The Sundays have been so stormy that we could not have meetings, and I never preached my New Year’s sermon till last Sunday which was a very pleasant day.

I have before me two letters both from different places in New York State and from men who have made their mark in the world, who attribute their success in life to the influence of my books. I had almost made up my mind to send them to you. Such letters do me good. I at one time used to fear that I had done wrong in devoting so much time to writing that might have been given to preaching the Gospel, but I have of late had so many letters of this kind that I feel differently, especially when I consider how many more persons a book reaches than a sermon.

I have never been so pleasantly situated since my great loss in parting with your mother as I am now. I have food, fuel, raiment, and health. There has not been a Sabbath since I was hurt that I have not been able to preach, nor a single day in the week that I have not been able to take care of my cattle and do all my work. I am sure this is something to thank God for. It is wealth without riches. Is it not something to thank God for to have so many friends, so many to love you and wish you well, and feel that you have been able to benefit them? When I looked over that assembly of a hundred and twenty-five persons last fall at the donation, many of them the grandchildren of old friends, and when I look at Fannie sitting here ready to anticipate all my wants, and doing all in her power to make me happy, and think here is the grandchild of Pennell Alexander, one of my earliest and best friends, I feel that life is worth living, at least for me.