American Scenes, and Christian Slavery - Ebenezer Davies
"And Montezuma's halls shall _ring_."
What! (reasoned I) is this the sequel to the Democratic meeting of last
night? Has Mars, who presided at the town-hall, a seat in the
lecture-room of this Theological Seminary? As the young man proceeded,
however, I perceived that his poem was, in fact, a denunciation of the
horrors of war,--not, as I had supposed, the composition of another
person committed to memory, and now rehearsed as an exercise in
elocution, but entirely his own. It was altogether a creditable
performance. The Professors at the close made their criticisms upon it,
which were all highly favourable. Dr. Beecher said, "My only criticism
is, _Print it, print it_." The venerable Doctor, with the natural
partiality of a tutor, afterwards observed to me he had never heard
anything against war that took so strong a hold of his feelings as that
poem. Dr. Stowe also told me that Mr. Armstrong was considered a young
man of fine talents and great devotion; and that some of the students
had facetiously said, "Brother Armstrong was so pious that even the
dogs would not bark at him!"
Mr. Armstrong was not at all disposed to take his tutor's advice. But
he favoured me with a copy of his poem, on condition that I would not
cause it to be printed in America,--in England I might. It contains
some turgid expressions, some halting and prosaic lines, and might be
improved by a severe revision; but, besides its interest as a
Transatlantic college-exercise, I feel it possesses sufficient merit to
relieve the tediousness of my own prose.
"'_On_--to the glorious conflict--ON!'--
Is heard throughout the land,
While flashing columns, thick and strong,
Sweep by with swelling band.
'Our country, right or wrong,' they shout,
'Shall still our motto he:
With _this_ we are prepared to rout
Our foes from sea to sea.
Our own right arms to us shall bring
The victory and the spoils;
And Montezuma's halls shall ring,
When there we end our toils.'
ON, then, ye brave' like tigers rage,
That you may win your crown,
Mowing both infancy and age
In ruthless carnage down.
Where flows the tide of life and light,
Amid the city's hum,
There let the cry, at dead of night,
Be heard, 'They come, they come!'
Mid scenes of sweet domestic bliss,
Pour shells of livid fire,
While red-hot balls among them hiss,
To make the work entire
And when the scream of agony
Is heard above the din,
_Then_ ply your guns with energy,
And throw your columns in
Thro' street and lane, thro' house and church,
The sword and faggot hear,
And every inmost recess search,
To fill with shrieks the air
Where waving fields and smiling homes
Now deck the sunny plain,
And laughter-loving childhood roams
Unmoved by care or pain;
Let famine gaunt and grim despair
Behind you stalk along,
And pestilence taint all the air
With victims from the strong
Let dogs from mangled beauty's cheeks
The flesh and sinews tear,
And craunch the bones around for weeks,
And gnaw the skulls till bare
Let vultures gather round the heaps
Made up of man and beast,
And, while the widowed mother weeps,
Indulge their horrid feast,
Till, startled by wild piteous groans,
On dreary wings they rise,
To come again, mid dying moans,
And tear out glazing eyes
_Tho'_ widows' tears, and orphans' cries,
When starving round the spot
Where much-loved forms once met their eyes
Which now are left to rot,
With trumpet-tongue, for vengeance call
Upon each guilty head
That drowns, mid revelry and brawls,
Remembrance of the dead.
_Tho'_ faint from fighting--wounded--wan,
To camp you'll turn your feet,
And no sweet, smiling, happy home,
Your saddened hearts will greet:
No hands of love--no eyes of light--
Will make your wants their care,
Or soothe you thro' the dreary night,
Or smooth your clotted hair.
But crushed by sickness, famine, thirst,
You'll strive in vain to sleep,
Mid corpses mangled, blackened, burst,
And blood and mire deep;
While horrid groans, and fiendish yells,
And every loathsome stench,
Will kindle images of hell
You'll strive in vain to quench.
Yet _on_--press on, in all your might,
With banners to the field,
And mingle in the glorious fight,
With Satan for your shield:
For marble columns, if you die,
_May_ on them bear your name;
While papers, tho' they sometimes lie,
Will praise you, or will blame.
Yet woe! to those who build a house,
Or kingdom, not by right,--
Who in their feebleness propose
Against the Lord to fight.
For when the Archangel's trumpet sounds,
And all the dead shall hear,
And haste from earth's remotest bounds
In judgment to appear,--
When every work, and word, and _thought_,
Well known or hid from sight,
Before the Universe is brought
To blaze in lines of light,--
When by the test of _perfect_ law
Your '_glorious_' course is tried,
On what resources will you draw?--
In what will you confide?
For know that eyes of awful light
Burn on you from above,
Where nought but kindness meets the sight,
And all the air is love.
When all unused to such employ
As charms the angelic hands,
How can you hope to share their joy
Who dwell in heavenly lands?"
Such was the poem of Frederick Alexander Armstrong. After its
rehearsal, a young gentleman _read_ a prose Essay on Education. It was
clever, and indicated a mind of a high order, but was too playful; and
the performance was severely criticised. Here ended the "public
declamation."
LETTER XVIII.
Visit to Lane Seminary (continued)--Dr. Beecher and his Gun--The
College Library--Dr. Stowe and his Hebrew Class--History of Lane
Seminary--Qualifications for Admission--The Curriculum--Manual
Labour--Expenses of Education--Results--Equality of Professors and
Students.
The "public declamation" ended, Dr. Beecher asked me to accompany him
to his house. It was about an eighth of a mile from the institution,
over a very bad road, or rather over no road at all. He conducted me
into a snug little sitting-room, having no grate; but a wood fire on
the floor under the chimney. It looked primitive and homely. This style
of fire is not uncommon in America. The logs of wood lie across two
horizontal bars of iron, by which they are raised four or six inches
from the floor. The Doctor's first care was to replenish the fire with
a few sturdy pieces of wood. All through the States, I have observed
that the task of feeding the fire generally devolves on the head of the
family. In this little room I was introduced to Mrs. Beecher. She is, I
believe, the third lady on whom the Doctor has conferred his name. In
one corner of this apartment was a gun, and on the sofa a heap of shot.
Thousands of wild pigeons were flying about. The visit of these birds
made the Doctor very uneasy. He was ever and anon snatching up his gun,
and going out to have a pop at them. Though upwards of seventy years of
age, he is an excellent marksman. It was to me a little odd to see a
venerable D.D., a Professor of Theology, handling a fowling-piece! The
Americans, have by circumstances been trained to great skill in the use
of fire-arms. The gun, however, proved a fatal instrument in the hands
of one of the Doctor's sons, a young man of great promise, who was
killed by the accidental explosion of one. Nevertheless, Dr. Beecher
has five sons, all (like himself) in the ministry! He has a maiden
daughter, who has distinguished herself by her literary attainments and
active benevolence. The excellent and accomplished wife of Dr. Stowe
was also a Miss Beecher.
At 1 o'clock P.M. we dined. The Professors never dine, or take any
other meal, with the assembled students. This is a disadvantage. But in
America eating, under any circumstances, is not so sociable a matter as
in England.
After dinner, I took my leave of Dr. Beecher, and went to see the
library of the institution. This is over the chapel, but so arranged as
not at all to detract from the just proportions of the building.
Indeed, no one would suspect that there was a story above. This library
was collected with great care and judgment by Dr. Stowe, in England and
on the continent of Europe, and contains 10,000 volumes! The
library-room is capable of receiving 30,000 volumes. But even now it is
the largest library on this side the Allegany Mountains. It comprises
not only the standard works in all the departments of a theological
course, but also a very rich variety of authors in general literature
and science. The books are arranged in alcoves according to their
character,--Theology--Biblical Literature--Classics--History--Philosophy;
and so forth.
There is a "Society of Inquiry" in connection with the seminary, which
has a distinct library of 326 volumes. "The Reading Room and Athenaeum"
is furnished with 21 newspapers, and several of the best literary and
theological periodicals.
From the library, my guide (one of the students) led me down into the
lecture-room, where Professor Stowe was engaged with a Hebrew class.
They were reading in the Song of Solomon. The exhibition did not strike
me as much superior to what we used to have at Rotherham College ten or
twelve years ago. In point of domestic _comfort_, the latter is
incomparably before Lane Seminary, and in literary advantages not far
behind. Professor Stowe kindly drove me back to Cincinnati in his
buggy, or waggon, or phaeton.
Lane Seminary is an institution devoted entirely to theological
education, in connection with the New-School Presbyterians. The
building, including chapel and library, cost about 50,000 dollars, or
10,000_l._, and must have been very cheap at that. In 1828-30, Ebenezer
Lane, Esq., and his brother Andrew Lane, Esq., made a donation of 4,000
dollars for the purpose of establishing the seminary, whereupon it was
incorporated under the name of "Lane Seminary," and trustees were
appointed. To these trustees the Rev. Mr. Kemper and his sons made
over, for the benefit of the institution, 60 acres of land, including
the site on which the buildings stand. In 1832 Arthur Tappan, Esq., of
New York, subscribed 20,000 dollars for the Professorship of Theology.
In the same year 15,000 dollars were raised for the Professorship of
Ecclesiastical History; the largest contributor to which was Ambrose
White, Esq., of Philadelphia: and an equal sum was contributed for the
Professorship of Biblical Literature,--Stephen Van Rennselaer, Esq., of
Albany, being the chief contributor. In 1835, a fund of 20,000 dollars
was raised for the Professorship of Sacred Rhetoric, of which a large
portion was given by John Tappan, Esq., of Boston. A literary
department was organized in 1829, which was discontinued in 1834; at
which period the institution, in its full operation as a Theological
Seminary, may be said to have commenced. Since then it has sent forth
about 250 ministers!
Candidates for admission must produce satisfactory testimonials, that
they are members, in good standing, of some Christian Church; that they
possess competent talents; and that they have regularly graduated at
some college or university, or have pursued a course of study
equivalent to the common college course.
The course of study occupies three years; and every student is expected
to enter with the intention of completing the full course. So far as
practicable, the different branches are pursued simultaneously. Thus
the department of Biblical Literature, during the first year, occupies
three days in the week; during the second, two; and during the third,
one: Church History, one day in the week: Sacred Rhetoric and Pastoral
Theology, one day in the week during the first year, two the second,
and three the third. The object of this arrangement is to afford a
pleasant variety in study, and to keep up a proper interest in all the
departments through the whole course. "Hitherto," it is stated, "the
plan has been pursued with results highly satisfactory to the Faculty."
Theological students may be glad to learn the following particulars of
the whole course.
I. BIBLICAL LITERATURE.--This department embraces--1. Biblical
Geography and Antiquities. 2. Principles of Biblical Interpretation. 3.
General Introduction to the Old and New Testaments, and Particular
Introduction to the Pentateuch, Gospels, and Acts. 4. Interpretation of
the Gospels in Harmony and of the Acts. 5. Interpretation of the
Historical Writings of Moses. 6. Particular Introduction to the several
Books of the Old and New Testaments. 7. Hebrew Poetry, including
Figurative and Symbolical Language of Scripture. 8. Interpretation of
Psalms, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes. 9. Epistles to Romans, Corinthians,
Timothy, and I Peter. 10. Nature and Fulfilment of Prophecy,
particularly in reference to the Messiah. 11. Interpretation of Isaiah,
Zechariah, and Nahum. 12. The Revelation, in connection with Daniel.
II. CHURCH HISTORY AND POLITY.--In this department a regular course of
lectures is given on the History of Doctrines to all the classes, and
on Church Polity to the senior classes.
III. SYSTEMATIC THEOLOGY.--In this department are included--1. Cause
and Effect. 2. Mental Philosophy. 3. Atheism, its History and
Hypothesis, Arguments, Objections, and Folly. 4. The Being, Character,
and Attributes of God. 5. Reason, Light of Nature, Necessity of
Revelation. 6. The Truth and Inspiration of the Bible. 7. Doctrine of
Revelation.
IV. SACRED RHETORIC AND PASTORAL THEOLOGY. _First Year_.--Lectures on
Rhetoric and Elocution. Exercises in Reading and Elocution. _Second
Year_.--Written Discussions, with Public Criticism in the class. _Third
Year_.--Exercises in criticising Skeletons continued. Public and
Private Criticism of Sermons. Lectures on Preaching and on Pastoral
Duties.
The annual term of study begins on the second Wednesday in September,
and closes on the second Wednesday in June, which is the Anniversary.
The term closes with a public examination.
Dr. Andrew Reed, who visited Lane Seminary in 1834, refers to it as a
_model_ manual-labour institution. With the advancement of society
around, it has lost in a great measure that peculiarity. There is now
but little done in that way, though it is still recorded in italics
among its regulations, that "every student is expected to labour three
hours a day at some agricultural or mechanical business." "While the
leading aim of this regulation," it is added, "is to promote health and
vigour of both body and mind, compensation is received according to the
value of the labour."
No charge is made for tuition. Rooms are fully furnished and rented at
5 dollars a year from each student. The incidental expenses, including
fuel and light for public rooms, ringing the bell, and sweeping, are 5
dollars more. The room-rent and incidental bill are paid in advance.
For the aid of indigent students funds are collected annually, by means
of which board is furnished to such gratuitously. To those who receive
no assistance from the funds, the price of board is about 90 cents a
week. The cost of fuel and lights for each student, in his own room,
will average from 8 to 12 dollars a year. Thus the entire expense to a
young man for a whole term of nine months is only from 50 to 60
dollars, or from 10 to 12 guineas of our money.
"The results of these thirteen years of labour," say the trustees in a
document recently issued, "considering the difficulties attending the
establishment of such an institution in a new country, amid a
population as yet unassimilated in feelings and habits, and whose
schools, academies, and colleges are of comparatively recent origin,
are indeed highly encouraging. The friends of the institution, and of
religion and learning generally, thankful for what has already been
accomplished, will feel encouraged to do whatever may be necessary for
the highest efficiency of the seminary; and will give their prayers
that the labours of the 300 young men, who have enjoyed or now enjoy
its advantages," (there being about 50 then in the house,) "may be
abundantly blessed by the Head of the Church."
Lane Seminary is a valuable and catholic institution. At their
entrance, the students have to subscribe to no confession of faith;
and, when they have completed their curriculum, they are at perfect
liberty to exercise their ministry among whatever denomination they
please. Congregational as well as Presbyterial Churches obtain pastors
from this "school of the prophets."
The "Faculty" at present consists of the Rev. Lyman Beecher, D.D.,
President, and Professor of Theology; the Rev. Calvin E. Stowe, D.D.,
Professor of Biblical Literature, and Lecturer on Church History; and
the Rev. D. Howe Allen, Professor of Sacred Rhetoric and Pastoral
Theology, and Lecturer on Church Polity.
Nothing struck me more than the feeling of equality that seemed to
subsist between students and professors. The latter, in speaking to or
of any of the former, would generally say "Brother" So-and-so. The
students also, in their bearing towards the professors, seemed each to
say, "I am as good a man as you are." This is the genius of America.
You meet it everywhere. There man is man (except his skin be black),
and he expects to be treated as such. Respect to superiors is not among
the maxims of our Transatlantic brethren. The organ of veneration is,
perhaps, imperfectly developed.
LETTER XIX.
A Sabbath at Cincinnati--The Second Presbyterian Church--Mutilation of
a Popular Hymn--The Rushing Habit--A wrong "Guess"--A German
Sunday-School--Visit to a Church of Coloured People--Engagement at the
Welsh "Church"--Monthly Concert--The Medical College of Ohio--Tea at
the House of a Coloured Minister.
On the previous Friday, Professor Allen called to request me to preach
in his stead at the Second Presbyterian Church on Sunday morning, the
28th of February, as he had to go some twenty miles into the country to
"assist at a revival." I agreed to do so. Sunday morning was
excessively cold, with a heavy fall of snow. On arriving at the
"church," I found there was no vestry. Indeed, a vestry, as a private
room for the minister, is seldom found in America. The places are
exceedingly neat and comfortable, but they want _that_ convenience. I
had therefore to go with my hat and top-coat, covered with snow, right
into the pulpit. This church outside is a noble-looking building, with
massive pillars in front, and a bell-tower containing a town-clock; but
the interior seemed comparatively small. It had a gallery at one end,
which held only the singers and the organ. The seats below were not
more than one-third full. Dr. Beecher ministered in this place for
about ten years. It was now without a pastor, but was temporarily
supplied by Professor Allen. The congregation was far more decorous and
attentive than those in New Orleans. After the introductory service,
and while the hymn before sermon was being sung, a man came trudging
down the aisle, bearing an immense scuttle full of coals to supply the
stoves. How easy it would have been before service to place a box of
fuel in the vicinity of each stove, and thereby avoid this unseemly
bustle! But in the singing of the hymn, I found something to surprise
and offend me even more than the coal-scuttle. The hymn was--
"O'er the gloomy hills of darkness," &c.
I had selected it myself; but when I got to the second verse, where I
had expected to find
"Let the Indian, let the negro,
Let the rude barbarian see," &c.,
lo! "the Indian." and "the negro" had vanished, and
"Let the dark benighted pagan"
was substituted. A wretched alteration,--as feeble and tautological in
effect as it is suspicious in design. The altered reading, I learned,
prevails universally in America, except in the _original_ version used
by the Welsh congregations. Slave-holders, and the abettors of that
horrid system which makes it a crime to teach a negro to read the Word
of God, felt perhaps that they could not devoutly and consistently sing
"Let the Indian, let the negro," &c.
This church, I heard, was more polluted with a pro-slavery feeling than
any other in Cincinnati of the same denomination,--a circumstance
which, I believe, had something to do with Dr. Beecher's resignation of
the pastorate.
At the close of the sermon, having pronounced the benediction, I
engaged, according to our English custom, in a short act of private
devotion. When I raised my head and opened my eyes, the very last man
of the congregation was actually making his exit through the doorway;
and it was quite as much as I could manage to put on my top-coat and
gloves and reach the door before the sexton closed it. This rushing
habit in the House of God strikes a stranger as rude and irreverent.
You meet with no indications of private devotion, either preceding or
following public worship. A man marches into his pew, or his pulpit,
sits down, wipes his nose, and stares at all about him; and at the
close, the moment the "Amen" is uttered, he is off with as much speed
as if the house were on fire. In this instance, the service had not
exceeded an hour and a half; and yet they hurried out as if they
thought the beef was all burnt, and the pudding all spoiled. Of course,
there were no thanks to the stranger for his services,--to say nothing
of the _quiddam honorarium_, which to a man travelling for health, at
his own expense, with an invalid wife, might have been supposed not
unacceptable.
When, however, I got to the portico outside, a gentleman, with his
wife, was waiting to see me before they stepped into their carriage.
Here was some token of politeness and hospitality,--an invitation to
dinner, no doubt.--"Thank you, sir, I am very much obliged to you; but
I left my wife very ill at our lodgings this morning, and therefore I
cannot have the pleasure to dine with you to-day," was the civil excuse
I was preparing. Never was expectation more beside the mark. My "guess"
was altogether wrong. "What are you going to do with yourself this
afternoon?" was the gentleman's blunt salutation. "What have _you_ to
propose, sir?" was my reply. "I am the superintendent," he said, "of a
German Sunday-school in the upper part of the city, and I should like
you to come and address the children this afternoon." I promised to go,
and he to send to my "lodgings" for me. We both kept our appointment.
The number of scholars was about 100. This effort to bring the Germans
under a right religious influence is very laudable; for there are about
10,000 of that people in Cincinnati. One quarter of the city is
entirely German. You see nothing else on the sign-boards; you hear
nothing else in the streets. Of these Germans the greater part are
Roman Catholics.
After visiting the school, I found myself in time to attend one of the
chapels of the coloured people at 3 P.M. A medical student, whom I had
met in the morning, and again at the German school, accompanied me. He
was a New Englander, and a thorough anti-slavery man. When we got to
the chapel--a Baptist one--they were at prayer. Walking in softly, we
entered a pew right in the midst of them. The minister--a mulatto of
about thirty years of age, with a fine intelligent eye--was very simple
in dress, and unostentatious in manner. His language, too, was
appropriate and correct. He was evidently a man of good common sense.
His text was Psalm li. l2, l3. He referred very properly to the
occasion on which the Psalm was composed, and drew from the text a
large mass of sound practical instruction. The chapel (capable of
containing about 150 people) was only half-full. Before the sermon, I
had observed a very old negro, in a large shabby camlet cloak and a
black cap, ascending the pulpit-stairs. I supposed that, being dull of
hearing, he had taken that position that he might better listen to the
service. However, when the sermon was over, this patriarchal-looking
black man rose to pray; and he prayed "like a bishop," with astonishing
correctness and fluency! He was formerly a slave in Kentucky, and was
at this time about eighty years of age. They call him "Father Watkins."
At the close I introduced myself to him and to the minister. They both
expressed regret that they had not had me up in the pulpit, to tell
them something, as "Father Watkins" said, about their "brothers and
sisters on the other side of the water." The minister gave me his card,
and invited me and my wife to take tea with him on Tuesday afternoon.
This was the first invitation I received within the city of Cincinnati
to take a meal anywhere; and it was the more interesting to me as
coming from a coloured man.
In the evening I went, according to appointment, to the Welsh Chapel.
There I met a Mr. Bushnel, an American missionary from the Gaboon
River, on the western coast of Africa. He first spoke in English, and I
afterwards a little in Welsh; gladly embracing the opportunity to
exhort my countrymen in that "Far West" to feel kindly and tenderly
towards the coloured race among them; asking them how they would
themselves feel if, as Welshmen, they were branded and despised
wherever they went! I was grieved to see the excess to which they
carried the filthy habit of spitting. The coloured people in _their_
chapel were incomparably cleaner in that respect.