There was no fire in the meeting-houses. The women carried foot-stoves that contained an iron dish filled with hot coals. The sexton was bound by written contract to keep a good rock-maple wood fire on the Sabbath in order that the people might have good coals with which to fill their foot-stoves in the morning and replenish them between meetings. Children suffered the most from cold feet, and would often cry with cold. I used to run my legs to the knees into my mother’s muff and get my feet on her foot-stove and long for services to be done. My father used to say that when he could hear people all over the house striking their feet together to quicken the circulation, he felt it was time to stop preaching, and indeed he seldom preached more than forty minutes, and often less. But many of the old ministers who exchanged with him had a method of dividing their sermons that to a boy with cold feet was extremely tantalizing. They would have six, eight, and often ten heads of discourse after which came “the improvement,” the most excruciating of all. After a long time occupied in the application of what had preceded, the minister would say “lastly.” Then all the younger portion of the audience would prick up their ears and handle their mittens in expectation of the close, but after this would come “finally,” and on the heels of “finally” “to conclude,” and after “conclude,” “in short.” There were few Sabbath-schools; religious instruction was in former days given to the children by means of the Westminster Catechism that was taught to children by their parents; and at stated times in the year the ministers were accustomed to assemble all the children of the parish and catechise them. Parents who were not religious, equally with others, taught their children the catechism that they might be able to answer the questions of the ministers and appear as well as their companions. This method of instruction had fallen in a measure into disuse, and though Sabbath-schools had been substituted to take its place, they were not cherished or conducted as at present. No pains were taken to render them attractive. Some parents held on to both methods of religious instruction upon the principle that there never could be too much of a good thing. The schools had little hold upon the hearts of the ministers of the church and were generally taught outside. The first Sabbath-school I attended was held in a schoolhouse that stood on the northeastern side of State Street. The late Mr. Cahoon was my teacher. The New Testament was the text-book. Children committed hymns but took no part in the singing.

There was a vein of austerity running through the relations that existed between parents and children. They were neither fondled nor pampered, but taught self-denial, to obey their parents, and reverence old age. In many families the children ate at a side table, as they were not supposed to be fitted by age or development to associate with their elders.

In the province of labor there was no special adaptation of the implements of labor to the physical strength of children, nor in matters of education any adaptation of studies or methods of teaching to their mental wants as at present, but children and youths used to a large extent the tools and books of their elders or waited till they grew up to them. Thus, in matters of religion, immediate effect was not expected either in relation to children or adults. It was not expected that a person would be converted till he was married and settled in life.

The question will naturally arise in the minds of many, what was the result of such a mode and spirit of worship as to the promotion of vital godliness and the conversion of souls. I reply, there was but little fruit. The preaching was mostly argumentative and controversial or political—the conic sections of godliness. Ministers seemed to feel that their responsibility ended when they had faithfully preached the truth and kept back nothing, and church members, when they attended the ordinances and kept the faith.

The first great change for the better in this state of affairs was caused by the embargo, which crushed for a season and well-nigh exterminated the business interests of Portland. It brought those who had become giddy with more than twenty years of unexampled prosperity to reflection. In proportion as their prospects in this life were blighted, they directed their attention to the attainment of more durable riches. The ministers of the gospel of all denominations took advantage of the changed condition of thought, and there was a great revival of religious interest throughout New England. Edward Payson, who was then in the prime of life and a colleague with my father, exerted himself to an extent that consigned him to an early grave, and there was during his ministry a constant revival. Instead of fate, free-will, foreknowledge, absolute free-will, etc., people began to hear of Christ and Him crucified, the still small voice of the Spirit, and the danger of delay. The eyes of men, stirred to a new life, were now opened to perceive the great obstacles to the progress of religion and morality.

The drinking customs of the day which had now reached a fearful extent, and African slavery and the discussions concerning it, caused a shaking of the dry bones seldom equalled; for conscience, self-interest, and the law of God were pitted against each other. The main shaft that carried the wheels of business in Portland was the lumber trade, which consisted in transporting lumber to the West Indies and bartering it for molasses, a large portion of which was made into rum that went all over the country. There was new rum for poor people, and West India rum for those in better circumstances. I have seen my mother, as often as Parson Lancaster exchanged with my father, mix Holland gin and loaf sugar and warm it for him before he went into the pulpit and after he came out. I once went with my father to a funeral in Beaver (now Brown) Street, and a decanter of liquor and glasses were set on the coffin. At eleven o’clock on each day the bell would ring, the masons come down from the ladders, the joiners drop their tools, and all would partake of rum, salt-fish, and crackers. This great obstacle, in a measure taken out of the way, led to the development of a spirit of Christian enterprise which I leave to abler tongues and pens to describe.


AT BOWDOIN COMMENCEMENT, JUNE 25, 1890

[Among papers especially treasured by Mr. Kellogg was found the following letter:—