Indianapolis
[Indiana]
April 11, 1854
Dearest
[Augusta],
Your
letter and program reached me this noon through the fidelity of Uncle Sam and as
he is waiting and will transfer one to you again starting on the morrow, I
hasten to prepare for him. As he is always so faithful to me, I certainly must
not disappoint him. I could not but feel impressed with one fact whilst perusing
your letter and glancing over the names upon the scheme -- that very great
changes are yearly going on in and about Owego [New York]. Many of my
acquaintance have already and are fast being borne to their "narrow
house." Others are fast treading in their footsteps. Many that are left
behind seem inclined to be migrating to the West. And as a new generation is
coming into the sphere of active life, I was thinking that I should know but
few. I notice that many of the names -- I.E., the surnames, are familiar, but
the first not so. I concluded, however, that they are representatives of those
fast passing away.
The
death of Rev. [George] Wilcox came upon me quite unexpected. I had not heard that he was
on the decline. I can almost imagine precisely the state of his mind whilst
passing along the dark waters. I am sure that clinging upon the promises of
Jehovah, his exulting spirit could rejoice in the brightest hopes beyond the
dark valley. I am sure that that good Being who had been his staff and solace
all along would not forsake him then. Ah! among that host which no man can
number, how many there will be of our friends and acquaintances.
I
was sorry to hear of the affliction and unpleasantness in the family of Mrs.
Norton. I always thought very much of her, but he was always offish and
unsociable whenever I called at the house, and I think the blame must have been
on his part. As for their bright dark eyed little delicate girl, I shall long
remember her fidelity to the Sabbath school and the sweet smile she used to
wear. But she has gone. Perhaps 'tis for the best.
I
had read a notice of Mr. Headly's death on the Island of St. Thomas.
You
ask which Conference I meant. It was the North East Indiana Conference [of the
Methodist Episcopal Church] which I may probably join, in which is the bounds of
my little charge. I have hardly had experience enough to tell you just how I
like it as I have not been able to separate myself entirely from the map trade.
By the time I write again, I can tell you much better. Tonight, in company with
the presiding elder [John Hull] and Brother [Samuel] Cooper, we hold meeting in
a little family schoolhouse out in the [northern] outskirts [of Indianapolis]
and are looking and hoping for a profitable meeting.
You
ask if it will be much of a disappointment or disarrangement of my plans if you
are not ready to come west when I come out this summer? Oh no. I have no plans
in particular, only so far as your convenience and arrangements are concerned. I
choose entirely to abide your choice as to time. I had thought that probably the
best time for me to visit Owego would be in the month of September, but can come
just as well at almost any other time. As you suggested, perhaps I had not
better come more than once without we should conclude to postpone until another
year before we are married. Then I would hardly consent to stay away so long.
A
thought has suggested itself to my mind that perhaps the first year of my
ministerial service might throw me out in some country place where I should be
obliged to travel a circuit and be absent much of the time, which would make it
somewhat unpleasant for yourself. Or [I might] be placed in some country village
where there would not be just such society as you would like. Yet, after all, to
me it would certainly be pleasant under such circumstances to enjoy your
society, but I most certainly would forgo the choicest privileges rather than
enter into any arrangement that would for one moment tend to mar your enjoyment
or give you an unfavorable impression of the pathway the Good Being seems to
have marked out in which I am to labor for others good.
I
think I can but like [the ministry] on one account if no other. There has never
been any occupation upon which I have placed my mind in which I seemed called
upon to act, and which I can contemplate acting, with more pleasant emotions.
Not that there is anything about it that will tend to secure worldly honor,
worldly riches, or anything else after which the great masses are grasping.
Neither that it is anything that I seem particularly constituted to engage in
for I never attempt to say anything in public without such feelings as you
supposed you would have when called upon to read your essay. But I find that
repeated attempts speaking in public enables me to overcome this timidity in a
measure. I am sorry that I did not embrace former opportunities to speak in
public. It would have been so much better for me. For the future, I am resolved
to let no future opportunity pass wherein duty seems to call upon me to act.
I
wish you could have been in this city last Sabbath afternoon to have attended
the 31st anniversary of Sabbath schools of this city. In telling you about it,
it will give you some idea of the unanimity of feeling upon the subject of moral
advancement in every department of action throughout the city. The gathering was
at Masonic Hall, the largest public room to be found here and consisted of the
meeting of twenty one Sabbath schools in the city with their Superintendents,
Librarians, Teachers, and Scholars, accompanied with their several pastors. And
notwithstanding the weather was quite unfavorable as a heavy shower came up just
about the time to form the procession and march to the church. Yet the room was
just about as full as it would hold. The large rostrum in the forepart of the
building was occupied by the ministers, superintendents, with a few of the
dignitaries of the place. And it truly seemed pleasant to see denominations of
several names, all meeting on one common platform, giving each other a friendly
shake of the hand, and all combined to celebrate one of the greatest moral
enterprises of the day. This anniversary takes place every year in commemoration
of the time that the first Sabbath school was organized in the city, and all the
children look forward to it with emotions of great pleasure. I am sure you would
have thought they enjoyed it could you have seen their sweet smiles and happy
faces.
A
very appropriate address was delivered by a Mr. Wallace [1] -- son of Ex-Governor [David] Wallace. And then the reminiscences occurring in
the history of the city and especially in the lives of several distinguished
citizens was given by an old resident which added very much to the interest. [2]
Reports were given by the president of the organization of the number of
scholars in the city, the number attending the schools and the number out. The
number in attendance was reported as 2248, the number out 320, and when you take
into consideration the number of Catholics, I think it is almost unprecedented
in the history of any city. I don't believe any city in the centre of the land
of steady habits can boast of anything like it. They have such an organized
committee of visitations that no family is allowed to go unvisited. The more I
become acquainted with the citizens and the place, the more I am pleased with
the city.
As
to building, I shall defer that for awhile at least. Upon making inquiries of
the price of building material and labor, I find that putting up anything of a
decent building must subject a person to considerable expense and trouble.
I
received a letter from cousin George Griffing of Woodstock [Illinois] making me
an offer of six hundred and fifty [dollars] for my lot there, which is an
advance of two hundred and fifty above what it cost. But I guess I will abide by
your advice and not sell it at any rate at present. It will make a good home for
[my brother] Henry should he go west. If he does not, a person ought to be
satisfied with fifty percent interest on money advanced. And after all is said,
filthy lucre is not of much account after one's debts are paid and wants met.
Spring
is upon us in good earnest. The peach trees are in blossom and vegetation is
exhibiting itself in every direction. Yet we had a very heavy frost night before
last and the prospect for peaches is dubious.
I
suppose [my] Mother and [sister] Mary will visit there sometime this month. How
I would like to be at home. Get acquainted with [my] brother John if you can. I
am sure you will like him. Your two papers came safe and I was glad to peruse
them. The proceedings of the Teachers Association were interesting. As they came
safe, I will venture [to enclose] a map with this letter. Please send other
papers when convenient. I was so glad to hear of your mothers improved health.
Will [your brother] Ralph attend the [Owego] Academy this summer? And what
occupation does he have in his eye? My kind regards to any enquiring. May Heaven
bless you, my dear Augusta, and smile in every step of your pathway is the prayer of
your, -- James
Indianapolis [Indiana]
[late] April 1854
My own
Augusta,
Your good
long letter was most gladly welcomed in my visit to the [Post] Office about an
hour ago. I only wanted a glance at
the chirography and [I] quickly recognized the letters’ source. And as I glanced over the pages, how very easy [it was] to commune with
the thoughts and enter into the spirit and sentiments of the writer. And above all, how very pleasant to enjoy a privilege which I cannot
prize too highly. I was almost
confident that it would be along today. I
was sure that sufficient time had intervened and I knew that you were very
faithful in your answers.
[Besides
your letter, I received] a published sermon from [my Brother-in-Law] Giddings. It seems that spiritual mediums have been quite numerous in that section. [In it, he tells of] one talented, useful minister [that] has been
deluded and [that] has embraced the doctrines of the spiritualists. And as he was a man of extensive influence, [he] has lead as many
[followers] into this whirl pool of absurdity as possible. He immediately threw all his energies in securing converts to his belief
and went lecturing about upon spiritual manifestations. He came to Honesdale
[Pennsylvania] where he had been a former pastor and was
greatly beloved, commenced his lectures, and the result was that crowds turned
out to hear him and some of the leading members of the church embraced the
doctrine [which] proved a source of great mischief and opposition to prosperity. This fact led [my Brother-in-Law Giddings,] as pastor over that flock to
meet and, if possible, arrest this influence which called from him this
discourse. It is upon spiritual
manifestations as tested by the scripture. It was preached in his church and published for more extensive
circulation at the request of his Presiding Elder and official members of his
charge. I think it tolerable good
and will send it for your reading at some time.
Rev.
Charles W. Giddings
Whilst
reading your letter, I was impressed with the fact that Henry’s chance for
selling up there on the hill — either his own place or the old homestead — would
be rather poor. I.E., If there are
400 about there that talk of migrating West, most of them, in all probability,
will have property to sell. And unless there is an equivalent rush there, I can’t for
the life of me see where the buyers are to come from. As land is rated there and here, I would much rather trust
money West. I hope, however, that
brother [Henry] can, and will sell, as I believe it will be much better for
himself and family.
Should any
of my friends come west and pass this far south, please tell them there is one
at No. 79 Washington Street in this city that would be truly glad to see them
and would take pleasure in endeavoring to entertain them so long as they might
choose to remain. This [city] is so
far out of the regular route [to the] West that I suppose but few will be seen.
Do you know
the address of either Mr. Noble or S. Tappan? If so, please state in your next [letter].
I wish you could have seen my good mother before you wrote. I suppose that ‘ere this, you have had a good visit.
Please ask her a great many questions about her health and ascertain, if
possible, just how her life’s hours are passing. Ever since my fathers’ death, she has seemed to be much
more dejected in spirits than previous to that time. And [she seems] rather disposed to look upon the dark side of
things without stopping to think whether there was another side. Her happiest hours seemed to be just when she could collect the most of
her family about her and then it would seem like weights pressing down her
spirits to have them leave her. And
after all, she seemed willing that they should leave if duty urged and it was
for their interest to do so. I do
wish that whilst it was my happy privilege to share her society and counsels, I
had estimated more highly her worth and learned sufficiently to appreciate the
inestimable blessings I then shared. But
they are nearly all if not quite passed over. I do wish I could visit with her this evening.
I was glad
to hear from your friends [back] East—especially Hancie [Abbey]—and I was
wondering when it would be my good privilege to share her society.
I can hardly make it seem true that I shall never live over any portion
of the past again. Yet, I suppose
such is the case. True, I may go
East and may greet old familiar countenances and be made welcome, but will it be
the same home occupied by the same tenants, holding the same relations in life,
and all receiving me with the same frank warm-heartedness? Methinks not. Changes
will be written on every side. Some
will have left to join the company no man can number; others left to find a home
with the being of their choice far away. [Eventually,]
an alienation, quick and insensible, will steal upon you ‘ere you are aware. This was in a great measure the case with me after my stay [in the] East
when I returned to my childhood home. So
great were the changes that I could not make it at all seem like the same place. And were it not the home of my mother, my childhood, and my dearest of
earthly friends, I could mention a thousand places where I would sooner prefer
to pass my few short days.
Have you
seen Gleason’s [Pictorial] for last week, Saturday [April] 22nd?
If not, I wish you would see it. You
can obtain such a correct view of four of the principal public buildings about
this city. The Institution of the Blind is included in my mission. Several of its inmates are members.
Gleason's
Pictorial Banner for April 22, 1854
Blind
Institute as shown in Gleason's Pictorial
April 1854
State
House as shown in Gleason's Pictorial
April 1854
In
performing the duties that the church seems to have imposed on me, I find it a
great cross [to bear]. More especially, to attempt speaking in public. Last Sabbath [April 23, 1854] was my first effort in trying upon my
mission to use a text. I was in hopes but few would be out and none that I knew. But instead of that, it became known through some source other than
myself [that I was to preach], and the little schoolhouse was filled to
overflowing. Even here, at my
boarding house, about forty [attended]. A
friend told me that over thirty stood about the door and a great many left for
want of room [inside].
The evening
[I preached] was very warm and it caused the perspiration to flow most
profusely. I [had] prepared a sort
of skeleton of what I might say and fastened it in my bible which I was obliged
to hold in my hand. And it was so
difficult to refer to it that it embarrassed me much. I resolved to try without it and found much more freedom in speaking
afterward, but perhaps less to the point. The
good Lord assisted me. I have
visited and prayed in a great many families and left with them religious tracts. And although I may not see the immediate fruits yet, in the great future
day I hope to see that my labors have not been in vain.
We have a
meeting tomorrow evening to make a regular organization, select a building
committee, and elect the stewards, trustees, etc. We are in hopes to have a good house of worship ‘ere long. The brethren, although many of them poor, seem unanimous in the idea of a
suitable house of worship. We
numbered fifty in our Sabbath School last Sabbath and much interest was
manifested. Another session of
school will furnish us a great many more, as many on the mission ground had
commenced sending their [children] to other [Sabbath] schools and the scholars
have become so much attached there that they do not like to leave and come to
our schoolhouse. But when we have a
more suitable place for the [Sabbath] school, I am sure we shall get them.
You ask what
time in September I shall come East. I
cannot say positively when I may come. I
want to come after you return from Hartford whenever that may be.
And then if we should not conclude to get married, we can talk over all
our matters and make all our arrangements. I can say nothing with positiveness as we can read but so imperfectly the
dealings of an over ruling Providence. I place all in His hands, hoping and knowing that His kind hand will so
overrule matters as to work for the good of us both. I find a good warm-hearted friend and excellent
counselor in the person
of my beloved pastor, Brother Cooper. Not
a day [goes by] but I must see him once or twice. But he does not seem to tire of my many questions [and] always welcomes
me most heartily. I like the
society here quite well as I become more extensively acquainted and I am
confident you could not help but like it [also]. It is decidedly Western in almost every respect—mixed in, however, with
many Eastern people. But they are
very tenacious of early habits and customs and do not fall in with the spirit of
progress as I would wish. There are
great mammoth hearts here. -- James
Indianapolis
[Indiana]
May 15, 1854
Beloved
Augusta,
I have just
taken your letter from the [Post] Office. I
had been patiently waiting and wondering why one did not come, certainly
thinking there must be a fault in Uncle Sam or of his boys.
And sure enough, I found it to be precisely so. For in looking over the list of advertized letters [in this morning’s
newspaper] I found one for J. S. Griffing from Owego. I could hardly account for it as I seldom allow a day to pass without
visiting the Post Office. But by
way of explanation, they said that so soon as the time came for advertizing,
they always took all in the box [even] if they had not been in five minutes. So this will account for the delay of this letter in reaching
you.
Three hours
later — I had just commenced writing when I was interrupted by Brother Cooper
who wished me to go on a walk. We
went out to our lots in the suburbs of the city. He purchased one joining mine and a few days ago we procured some locust
trees and set them out in front. And
he was anxious to know whether they were living. There were twelve in all and we were sorry to find five of them of rather
a doubtful character. He thinks of
building on his lot for the purpose of renting as there is such a great demand
for houserooms.
In our walk,
we passed fruit trees of different kinds and I was surprised to see the prospect
for fruit so very flattering. I was
afraid that the very cold nights a few weeks ago would not allow us to entertain
the most distant idea of any fruit. But
Oh! How very different the prospect
unless something yet should happen. I
suppose we are just about two weeks ahead of you [in our growing season]. Young apples are now about the size of a half-grown plum. Cherries have attained over half their size. Spring opens most delightfully here. The naked forests and muddy streets, the cold raw winds and vacant
gardens, are all obliged to give way to such a delightful, ever welcome
visitant. You would hardly think this the same place that it was a
month ago. I can hardly look in any
direction from my window but what I can see great giant elms which, but a few
weeks ago were stretching out their long naked arms and swaying them about as if
angry at the fierce winds that visited them, now clothed in a most elegant
vesture and bowing most gracefully to welcome the delightfully refreshing
breezes among them.
The streets
have all become hard [in Indianapolis] so that a carriage moves along with
scarce any noise. And the birds of
every name and hue would sometimes try to make you think them more numerous than
they really are. And then the yard
plants, tulips, and violets are just at this time making such a rich display,
and the few trees we have within the city limits are decorated so finely with
foliage that I am sure you would not fail to pronounce it another place. [But you would have had to be here] in the Spring in order to make the
contrast.
Yesterday
was our Quarterly Meeting at Roberts Chapel. The exercises were very
interesting. The sacrament was administered at three o’clock after the Sabbath
School, which always meets at two. I
should think over 600 persons were present and a large share of them
communicants. There were six ministers present. After the sacrament, some few minutes were occupied in
shaking hands about which is something of a Quaker habit introduced among the
Methodists out here in the West. By
the way, I do not think [it to be] a very injurious or harmful innovation, as it
tends to bring heart nearer heart. It
enables members of the same church to greet personally those whom they may not
see again the whole week long. It
[certainly] enables strangers to become acquainted [with members of the church]. The lovefeast will be held this evening.
The Sabbath
School in my part of the town continues increasing. We have just as many now as our little schoolroom will possibly
accommodate. Tomorrow, we were invited to join the Roberts Chapel School
to go on a picnic excursion in a grove about a mile out of the city and the
scholars all seemed greatly pleased at the idea.
I hope we shall have a fine day. The
plan is to have all meet at the church at an early hour and to bring along
suitable refreshments which will be sent along with all the smaller scholars in
omnibuses. Those better able will
march out [to the grove] in a procession. It is something rather new to me and I think will greatly
please the scholars. It is proposed
that several short, pertinent speeches be made, a dinner prepared, swings
erected or fixed, so that in different ways the scholars may entertain
themselves for several hours.
I noticed in
some of the papers that they have been having quite a destructive flood at
Hartford [Connecticut] so that a great many of the streets were navigable. The damage was estimated at a great many thousand dollars. I supposed that Hartford was above stooping to such deprivations.
Hartford
Flood of 1854
I am glad that at least they have succeeded in getting a good Maine Law
governor there [in Connecticut]. I understand that a
good share of the Legislature are strongly prohibitory [in sentiment]. I do hope that all will do their duty and liberate the people. A good efficient Maine Law in Connecticut will do more for
her than any other one thing possibly can. I wish persons could only have seen as much as I of the effects of
rum—especially those inclined to apologize for it. I can never even think of it but what my indignation is
aroused against it in every shape. I
believe it but a synonym of all that is vile and mischievous, cruel, ghostly,
and infernal; thrusting itself deeper into the depths of human suffering than
all the other influences combined. I
never can forgive Governor [Horatio] Seymour in our State for the course he pursued in
reference to this measure. I was so
sure that the law would go in effect this fall. But the work of degradation, bewidowing mothers, and
multiplying orphans must go bravely on for a while yet. A brighter hour is dawning. Hearts
burning to do good must only labor and wait. [3]
Have you had
any very violent storms there this spring? I think I never knew the electricity so profuse, the lightning so vivid,
the rain so torrent-like, and peal answering to peal so rapidly as in some of
the showers passing over here this Spring. Scarcely a moments cessation. [4]
If
you could travel with irregular light at one moment in a blaze far brighter than
sunlight the next, enveloped in a darkness that you could almost feel, you then
would have had a fine time to view our city. The lightning performed some curious freaks, darting around the old
chimneys and splintering the telegraph poles, and in one case told an infidel
that Jehovah lived. He had been out
fishing during the day and, whilst on his return, more than ever his unsatisfied
mind wished [to know if] there was a God. And
he said that he offered a prayer like the following, “Oh God, if there is any,
in some way will thou bring convincing evidence that thou dost exist?” He went home, ate his supper, seated himself by his fireplace in the
corner of a little back room and during this violent shower the lightning left
its place in the clouds, passed down his chimney and completely paralyzed him in
his chair. His frightened wife
alarmed the neighbors and, by rubbing him nearly an hour, life returned and with
it—reason. In speaking of it
confidentially to his neighbor—who related the incident to me—he said that
it was not only strange that it should not only happen on the day that he made
the above prayer, but that the lightning should...come to his low house when
there were so many other houses in the city and many of them much taller than
his. To an infidel, it might appear
strange. But to one who believes
the Lord Jehovah reigns, not at all so. I
am happy to add that the man has since become a teacher in the Sabbath School, a
place he never loved before, and also attends meetings.
You speak of
an invitation to go to Hartford — also to Hatfield to spend a few months and it
may be [for the entire] winter. I
know you cannot but enjoy such a visit if you thought you could leave home so
long. I know you would dislike to
leave your mother, especially if [your sister] Sarah went with you. Yet I can hardly think of a more favorable time for you to go and make a
good Eastern visit—should you conclude soon to adopt the West as your home.
You know we should be much farther away from all those old acquaintances
and, should it be our pleasure ever to go and see them, we should be obliged to
make a sort of “Flying visit” which would not be near as satisfying as to go
and make a good long visit with each one.
Besides, time is short and is hurrying on and I should not wonder if already you
found an occasional vacancy among your beloved ones.
I wish I
knew just how you would like this western society. It is so different from what you have always been accustomed to that I am
sure you will find it strange at first. If
you do not find Eastern refinement and a strict observance of all the rules of
etiquette and a stiff, cold formalism, you will find frank, generous,
well-meaning hearts, actuated by a soul of no small dimensions and a hospitality
that defies all comparison. And in
this city there is a strong moral influence exhorted probably much more so than
in the country around—and many other things that combine to happily make
life’s passing hours most pleasant. Please mention when you think of going and
how long you shall probably stay. And
believe me forever yours, -- James.
Illustration
Credits
