"We have received nine, I believe good and spiritual members into the church. How comforting it is to a church who have long sat in sadness by the side of the river of Babylon, again to see the walls and gates of Jerusalem restored, and Zion's altars again smoking with the offering of God. I intend to spend next month at home, and the first of August to resume my labor here again, if the Lord will. It is my meat and my drink to do the willof my Father who is in heaven. I view my great home near, and am anxious to be ready. Our chapel to-day was crowded with hearers, who seemed to feel deeply the importance of religion, which alone can bring salvation to the soul. In the afternoon I met a multitude of solemn hearers, on the pleasant bank of the Conneaut, where, after a short address, I led four happy converts down to the watery grave, who all came forth with joy and strength, to witness a good profession and to shine as lights in the world. May God strengthen their young hearts to endure to the end, that they may be saved. I love the people."
"We have received nine, I believe good and spiritual members into the church. How comforting it is to a church who have long sat in sadness by the side of the river of Babylon, again to see the walls and gates of Jerusalem restored, and Zion's altars again smoking with the offering of God. I intend to spend next month at home, and the first of August to resume my labor here again, if the Lord will. It is my meat and my drink to do the willof my Father who is in heaven. I view my great home near, and am anxious to be ready. Our chapel to-day was crowded with hearers, who seemed to feel deeply the importance of religion, which alone can bring salvation to the soul. In the afternoon I met a multitude of solemn hearers, on the pleasant bank of the Conneaut, where, after a short address, I led four happy converts down to the watery grave, who all came forth with joy and strength, to witness a good profession and to shine as lights in the world. May God strengthen their young hearts to endure to the end, that they may be saved. I love the people."
The month of July, which he spent at home, he improved in attending some meetings with his old congregations. July 4, he spoke over an hour to his people at Lakeville, who assembleden masse. The 18th, with Rev. Asa Chapin, he attended the ordination of Sylvester Morris, at Springwater; in speaking of the sermon given by his colleague, he said:—"One such sermon which indicates God and his authority, and teaches men to rely on his strong arm, is worth all the flowers of oratory and empty show which human art and skill can produce." He resumed his labors at Conneaut in August, continued them till March, 1848. Whilst there he received about twenty additional members, baptized twelve, among whom was a young Unitarian clergyman, then about to graduate from the Meadville Theological School. Though broken in health and in spirits, though visited by dark and lonely hours, he exhibited the remains of a gigantic force, and over the social circle he still could throw the bright sunlight of his own spirit, which, unlike his bodily constitution, refused to grow old. In frequent social parties he waskindly greeted and cheered during the winter of his stay in Conneaut; and though the excitement of company often reacted upon him injuriously, his letters addressed to his family eulogize the cordiality and kindness of the people. As spring drew near, he felt that his labors should close; and early in March he returned home with the feeling that his long career in the ministry was closed. And so it was. On three or four occasions he again addressed the people, once at Henrietta, on a funeral occasion, once at Naples, and once at Honeoye Falls. Notice had been given at the last place, that Mr. Badger would meet all his friends, who might desire to hear him once more on earth. He spoke to them for the last time. Many came to hear. Among the remarks made concerning this general address, the whole of which was extemporaneous, was this; that the greatest amount of meaning was thrown into the mostconciseform that language would permit. But his once eloquent speech had now become slow and thick. It no longerflowed. Thirty-six years of a most active, arduous, and often self-sacrificing ministry, thus ended in retirement, when nothing in his years gave signs of life's abating energy.
The mind of Mr. Badger was in reality less impaired than his ability to manifest it. In company, perhaps most persons judge of mind almost wholly from itsvocalmanifestations. Hence a diversity of opinion and report that went abroad concerning his imbecility. My last interviews with him were in the winter and summer of 1850. I was joyfully surprised to perceive the error of the report that had gone abroad concerning his mental weakness. Honestly, there was then more in his brain than ever existed in the minds of those who reported him as being only a spectacle of sadness. Though his communication was slow and impaired, his clear gray eye shone with all the clearness and thoughtful penetration that it ever had done. I never enjoyed with him more interesting visits. He referred to past events with perfect accuracy of memory, related many incidents of his travels, spoke of argumentative discussions and of positions he had taken, passed judgments on men and things, which at no period of his life could have been more mature.
But ordinarily, his self-control, his power to be unaffected by disturbing causes, was said to have been much diminished; and the clearness and vigor of his mind were also said to have varied essentially at differentintervals. Every day, he read, or heard some member of his family read to him, the news of the time. He kept a clear knowledge of the world's great movements; and above all, he relished the sacred news that apprised him of the welfare of Zion. All his letters of 1849 and '50 have the same conciseness and clearness of expression that always distinguished his letter-writing. In the winter of 1850 I called on him; it was evening, about 8 o'clock; found him wearing a most calm and meditative expression. There was no vivacity to cheer a visitor; but immediately one felt the calm and tranquillizing influence of his presence. In glancing over his form and features, it was readily apparent that his wholecharacterwas there, not in activity but in repose.
If I might be permitted the liberty of speaking further in the first person, and of drawing from personal reminiscence, I would state some remarks he then made. We conversed sometimes for hours. I chanced to have with me Emerson's newly issued volume, entitled Representative Men. The second day of my sojourn with him, he requested me to read from it. He called for the characters presented; after naming these, he said: "First read to me of Napoleon; after that, of Swedenborg." I did so. And invariably, as the reading passed over those striking and ingenious passages for which Mr. E. is so greatly distinguished, his eye and countenance lighted up with a smile of delight; the thoughts of the writer passed into his mind as easily as the rays of morning enter the eyes of living creatures. I only read from these two characters, and in the pages presented him he evinced the truest delight. His power to appreciate a thinker even then cost him no effort.
He also alluded to the near approach of death. He said he entertained peculiar views on that subject. He would cheerfully die in a foreign land, or far away from home. "I prefer," said he, "that my wife, children, and near friends, would not see me as a corpse. It would suit me, if Providence should so order, to bid my family a cheerful good-by some pleasant day, and in some distant part meet the summons of my God. I would wish that all their remembrances of me might be associated with cheerfulness and life, and that not a single recollection should connect me with death." These utterances, of course, were only a free statement of feeling, but they impressed me much, and were indeed characteristic of the man. He was a lover of life and of the life-like.
In June, 1850, the annual session of the New York Central Christian Conference was holden at his residence. Not wishing to partake of the excitement common to large assemblies, and particularly anxious to avoid the excitement which contact with so many old acquaintances and friends would necessarily create, he planned a journey to Manchester and Gilmanton, New Hampshire. I saw him an evening and morning before he left. He walked with me to the beautiful grove where the Sabbath meeting was to be held; on the way, he observed, "Whenever I went away to preach a dedication sermon, or to hold a meeting in a new grove, I always wanted to go upon the ground and look at the scene a day beforehand." He had a fine visit with relatives among his native hills of New Hampshire, and returned in two or three weeks.
In the spring of 1851, when his power of speech was greatly enfeebled, so much so that he could not speak intelligibly to strangers, he expressed a strong desire to go about and visit once more the churches he had formed, and see all his brethren in the ministry. Mrs. Badger made arrangements to accompany him to Parma, where the New York Western Christian Conference was held June 23, 1851. She had accompanied him on two other journeys of a similar nature, and served him as interpreter, she being able to understand him when others could not. These trips he enjoyed very much; at Parma, he sat in meeting all day Saturday, Sunday and Monday; and, using the language of Mrs. B., "he seemed to have the most profound enjoyment." Taking the precaution to rest on Tuesday, Mrs. B., in their private conveyance, started with him on Wednesday for Gaines, a distance of thirty miles, where they remained for the night; on Thursday morning they journeyed but three miles, to the town of Barry, where they tarried but a night; on Friday he arose early, in his usual health; the sun poured down his burning rays in great power. He became anxious and determined to return home. Said Mrs. B.:
"Accordingly, I started with him as soon as I could prepare; we had rode but about one mile when the last and final shock came over him, which deprived him for the time of every sense but that of intense suffering. I immediately inquired for the nearest physician, and found that we were in the vicinity of Dr. Eaton, an old friend, and one who had prescribed for him before. He was speechless, and nearly senseless when I arrived with himat the doctor's. The doctor immediately took him in, and by thorough rubbing, and bathing, and by administering hot medicines, succeeded in restoring him to a state of consciousness. From this place he was conveyed to my brother's house at Barry, where he was regularly attended by Dr. E. twice a day for one week, at the end of which time he was able to be put into his carriage and to be conveyed home, taking two days for fifty miles, which are ten miles less than he was accustomed to ride when he was well, and called himself a travelling minister. He continued to improve from that time until he was able to walk by my going alongside of him, and leading him from our house to the church. He walked in that way to meeting every Sunday till October, but never recovered his mental and physical faculties as he had them before. He always ascribed his recovery to the energetic course adopted by Dr. Eaton, when he was thrown accidentally into his hands. From the first of October he began visibly to decline, like a person in the consumption. He grew weaker and weaker, his articulation became more indistinct, until about the middle of January or first of February, he ceased to pronounce any words but Yes and No. All communication was now cut off, except such as could be answered in that manner. Many of his old friends in that space of time came to see him, Elder D. F. Ladley, of Ohio, who published an account of his visit in the Gospel Herald. It was always one of the greatest luxuries of his life to have me sit down and read to him, which was now seemingly his only remaining pleasure. This he enjoyed to the last. But from the first of April to his final exit, May 12th, 1852, he seldom ever uttered a word."And thus he passed, as it were, almost imperceptibly away, while his ever-penetrating eyes sparkled with the utmost brilliancy till they were closed in death, which painful task fell on my brother, as he was the only one Ihad time to call in, after I was sensible that he was departing. Our minister, Mr. Eli Fay, came in soon after, and our house was filled with sorrowing friends and neighbors."
"Accordingly, I started with him as soon as I could prepare; we had rode but about one mile when the last and final shock came over him, which deprived him for the time of every sense but that of intense suffering. I immediately inquired for the nearest physician, and found that we were in the vicinity of Dr. Eaton, an old friend, and one who had prescribed for him before. He was speechless, and nearly senseless when I arrived with himat the doctor's. The doctor immediately took him in, and by thorough rubbing, and bathing, and by administering hot medicines, succeeded in restoring him to a state of consciousness. From this place he was conveyed to my brother's house at Barry, where he was regularly attended by Dr. E. twice a day for one week, at the end of which time he was able to be put into his carriage and to be conveyed home, taking two days for fifty miles, which are ten miles less than he was accustomed to ride when he was well, and called himself a travelling minister. He continued to improve from that time until he was able to walk by my going alongside of him, and leading him from our house to the church. He walked in that way to meeting every Sunday till October, but never recovered his mental and physical faculties as he had them before. He always ascribed his recovery to the energetic course adopted by Dr. Eaton, when he was thrown accidentally into his hands. From the first of October he began visibly to decline, like a person in the consumption. He grew weaker and weaker, his articulation became more indistinct, until about the middle of January or first of February, he ceased to pronounce any words but Yes and No. All communication was now cut off, except such as could be answered in that manner. Many of his old friends in that space of time came to see him, Elder D. F. Ladley, of Ohio, who published an account of his visit in the Gospel Herald. It was always one of the greatest luxuries of his life to have me sit down and read to him, which was now seemingly his only remaining pleasure. This he enjoyed to the last. But from the first of April to his final exit, May 12th, 1852, he seldom ever uttered a word.
"And thus he passed, as it were, almost imperceptibly away, while his ever-penetrating eyes sparkled with the utmost brilliancy till they were closed in death, which painful task fell on my brother, as he was the only one Ihad time to call in, after I was sensible that he was departing. Our minister, Mr. Eli Fay, came in soon after, and our house was filled with sorrowing friends and neighbors."
Here are the simple facts. They confirm the view that there was a clear, inner light of the intellect, which shone to the last, and which we believe was but transiently eclipsed in death. Thus died a great and a good man. At his dwelling, May 14th, 1852, Mr. Chapin read the Scriptures, offered prayer, and made appropriate remarks. At the church, Rev. Eli Fay, the Christian minister of the place, delivered an appropriate discourse from 2 Sam. 1: 19: "How are the mighty fallen!" in which he discussed the elements, uses and end of human greatness. In the solemn procession that followed to its resting-place the mortal form, were those who had come from some distance around, to shed the reverential tear over the grave of one whose voice had been to them a heavenly eloquence a third of a century ago. When the country was a wilderness, his words had swayed them as trees are moved by the winds. They come, the hoary-headed band, to take a last view of his spirit's fallen temple. By the side of former friends they bury him, and over his sacred ashes rises a monument with this inscription:
"JOSEPH BADGER,A MINISTER IN THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH.DIED MAY 12, 1852.AGED 59 YEARS."Here rests his mortal part. His spirit lives,And guides us still in virtue's path.His Children."
"JOSEPH BADGER,A MINISTER IN THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH.DIED MAY 12, 1852.AGED 59 YEARS.
"Here rests his mortal part. His spirit lives,And guides us still in virtue's path.
His Children."
His life strikes us as a synonyme of energy, of accomplishing force. His words have penetrated myriads of hearts. He had travelled many thousands of miles; had led to the mercy-seat hosts of penitents; to the baptismal waters upwards of two thousand persons, over forty of whom became ministers of salvation; had attended upwards of seven hundred funerals; and, though merit is not always to be measured by outward effects, it is impossible to impartially review his life as a whole, without finding in it a steady devotion to principles, a trusting reliance on God amid the changes of men and the fluctuation of time, which, as we contemplate, grow into the sublimity of faith. He was a hero of faith, and strongly impressed himself upon his time.
Character, as distinguished from reputation, is what we are intrinsically in moral and mental worth. Our reputations are only the various verdict of society concerning us. Our characters are our fixed value for time and eternity. They are our worth also in word and in deed, for these are mighty or weak through the spiritual power that lies back of them, from which they receive their kindling force and inspiration.Character substantially is the end of life, the purpose of nature, Providence, revelations, trial, conscience, and temptation. The universe came from it, reveals it, and strives, through all its teachings and influences, to reproduce it in man. The worship of God, and the various reverence which centres in man, at once resolve themselves into the supreme worth for which the word character stands as a sign. This, then, is the true centre of all biography, that into which the whole life is merged, and by which it may be judged. These few pages, therefore, will aim to sketch, though it may be imperfectly, the main features in the character of Joseph Badger.
When I approach this subject, I am at once struck by the originality and marked distinctions of what I am to examine; and, though the naturalness and simplicity which ever shone in his language and manner might seem to promise an easy task, a longer study dissipates the hope, and leaves the lasting impression that a mind and character like his were never truthfully and fully expressed in a few words, and certainly they were never known by mere passing acquaintance or superficial observation. He was a man of manifold nature, was strong in many directions. He had depths unseen by ordinary acquaintance or by ordinary observation; and to fully interpret one whose inward life was so much of it veiled from the world's gaze, whose power of character was in itself so complex and diverse, requires analytical patience and faithful study. I would not intimate by this that it is invested in dark and impenetrable clouds of mystery; for not a few of his traits are, under almost anycircumstances, plainly discernible, those, indeed, which served to render the hours of sociality agreeable and entertaining to all. His quick and clear perception, his calm balance of power, who would not at once discover? But it is the quality of greatness that the manifold qualities involved do not admit of a thorough comprehension except at the cost of time and care. That Joseph Badger was by nature a great man, that, in the sphere of his action, he was so by effects produced, it is presumed that none will be at all likely to deny. Persons who could read God's handwriting of ability in the forms and features of men, or in the discourse and action by which superiority is indicated, were never disposed to place him in the rank of ordinary gifts and powers. A few may have said that no book can add to their knowledge of him; that, for years, they have listened to his sermons; have mingled in his society at their firesides; that they know him entirely. This conclusion we do not unqualifiedly accept. It is our impression that few persons on the earth, in the profoundest sense, knew Joseph Badger. Beyond what they had observed lay much more in unseen repose.
The free and more airy moods of mind with which he usually met his friends and mingled in society, though combined with real dignity of manner, were calculated, in some degree, to give the impression of entire acquaintance to those who could penetrate but a small distance beneath the apparent. But there were sober depths underlying the vivacity and social joy of his presence. In company, it is true, he commonly avoided the introduction and discussion of weightythemes, those requiring continuity of thought, choosing rather to converse on matters of immediate care and interest. He spoke truthfully when he once said to a friend, "I have three moods of mind; one that may belightandairy, one ofcommonseriousness, and one of verydeepseriousness." They who judge him only from the first do not, cannot know him; yet is it not more common for people to judge from the surface than from the deeper soul of one's life? The former is easily seen; the latter requires attention. Luther and Franklin were humorous men; but those who would know them must look to the depths over which their humor played.
As the physical man is, by usual consent, the basis of that higher self, in which character, as to its greater meanings, resides, it may be worthy of recollection that the bodily constitution and temperament of Mr. Badger were well adapted to power and excellence of intellect. His constitution, though of fine quality, was naturally very strong and vigorous; the different temperaments commingled in it, the sanguine or arterial taking the lead. With this, there was a full degree of the nervous or intellectual temperament, which imparted much mental activity; with these, there was a measure of the bilious and lymphatic, which, according to the usual explanations of modern science, give endurance, calmness and ease, supplying the wasting activities with support. In early life, Mr. Badger was tall and spare in figure; about middle age, and after, he was more portly; and, at all times, his personal appearance was noble, commanding, and prepossessing. His likeness, facing the title-page of this volumewhich represents him at the age of forty-two, gives a very good idea of his intellectual expression, with the exception that his brain was of a larger cast, and, in after life, his features and form were more full than they appear in this representation.
The intellect of Mr. Badger was great, especially so in the use of practical perception. His perceptive ability was indeed immense. In seeing through character, motives, and events; in looking at a new movement in the moral world, or at any practical enterprise, he had great, sudden perceptions of the reality before him, on which he formed his conclusions and acted. His mind was quick; his opinions were not usually formed in slow processes, but were very comprehensive, very exact, and when the final results came round, no man's former words sounded so much like certain prophecy in the quotation as his. His mind was richly intuitive in these respects. He readily and closely saw the strong points of every case.
His reasoning intellect was strong and clear, and when awakened was full of power. But thought, in its most abstract form, was not his forte. He could appreciate it, and estimate its value accurately in others, could use it himself; but it was truth, having a direct bearing upon, and demonstrations in, the world of practice, that roused his energies and delightfully employed his powers. He was American. The form of his mind was not, perhaps, exactly philosophical, was not largely given to seek out the laws which pervade the facts of nature and of life, to treasure up universal principles; but he could rapidly work his way into the reality of any cause that it might interesthim to know. He readily saw important principles. His mind was creative. He could originate and execute with great skill and dexterity; the former of these functions, however, was, in our opinion, his most favorite work. He often liked to produce and direct the plan for others to carry into effect. His acquaintance with human nature, as it appears in the thousand-fold diversities of the world, was his profoundest knowledge. His great sagacity always seemed as intuition, as a native inspiration. It was next to impossible to deceive him.
There is that in the human mind which takes the name of no one faculty, but which, in the manifestation, is entitledgood sense, and "strong sense." There are men in the world, who wield no scholastic terminology, who have no tendency to much speculative theorization, but nevertheless have that in them, which, on the presentation of the most carefully elaborated theories, can at once judge upon their worth and fallacy. This strong searching force which despises the artificial operations of logicians, and the visionary theorization of idealists, makes of them solid pillars amidst the general fluctuation, enables them to say of all the "nine days' wonders," as they arrive, that they are but nine days' wonders. In them it says, "The theory is learned and rendered plausible; but substantially there is nothing in it. It is of no actual use. It hails from cloud-land, and in cloud-land it will ere long dissolve." Mr. Badger was no ideologist; he was an actualist, a realist, who never alienated himself from the circle of the sympathy of mankind, but wrought upon themes and enterprisesfor which the people themselves had feeling and care. He could easily weigh the humbugs as they arose; and there was no art of proselytism by which they could be glued to him or he to them. Scores of wild theories sprung up in his day. He patiently heard the arguments therefor, mildly responded, gave his own opinion, and with it possibly a cheerful laugh, which was itself no insignificant argument, and probably announced what he believed the result would be when time should have ripened and tested the fruit. The friends of Fourier built an institution within two miles of his door, and kindly invited him to join; some of his old acquaintances with infatuated joy rushed into the new millennium. He told them there was truth in the idea of more fraternity than the selfish world is disposed to enjoy, but that the conception of society they had adopted was visionary, and that all would repent who had thus invested their means. "Be assured, friend G., that in two or three years this whole matter will fail, and your funds will be lost." And so it was. Millerism, also, came along, showing large maps of the world's chronology, Bible symbol, and all that; some of his old ministerial friends rushed into the excitement, and cried aloud for the speedy coming of the personal Christ. He was calm. He told them it was idle theory, that it was theological egotism; and it mattered not how strongly and flippantly they quoted from Daniel and John, or what the array of texts and historical passages might be; he had a large, clear, manly brain, andknewthat the main fabric was woven of cobweb. He opposed against it strong arguments, and when knowing vanity and egotism on the opposite sidebecame intolerable, he mingled with his argumentation the withering force of satire, which, with him, was little else than long pieces of strong sense, made very sharp at the points.
This statement should be made for his mind and speech, that whenever he spoke it was to the point. It told plainly on the case in hand. His force was never lost by diffuseness or redundancy. He could say very much in few words. In coming to truth, he preferred the shortest way, and cherished, I judge, a cheerful contempt for artistic modes of reasoning, in which many strive to display so much science of method. The dry logician and the disputer of words he could endure, though he never would waste much time with them. If some one in the company was anxious to controvert, he usually turned to some other person and gave over his part of the question to him; then, in calmly witnessing their play of words, he derived great satisfaction from whatever was weighty, sharp, or well directed on either side, using the occasion chiefly as a scene of entertainment. In him one might see not a little of the ironical advice of Mephistopheles to the student, who in recommending the study of logic as a means of saving time, tells him that "in this study the mind is well broken in—is laced up as in Spanish boots,[61]so that it creeps circumspectly along the path of thought," minding the immense importance of one, two, three, four, which shall now cost him hours to accomplish what he before hit off at a blow. If, as Mephistopheles said, the actual operations of the human mind are as aweaver's loom, where one treadle commands a thousand threads, which are invisible in the rapidity of their movements, Mr. B. was more an actual weaver of the real garment than the philosopher who steps in to prove that these processes must have been so; that the first was so, and therefore the second came; and that since the first and second were, the third was inevitable.[62]In arriving at truth, be it remembered, he preferred the plainest, directest roads. He was emphatically athinkingman; and the end of his thought, mostly, was practical result.
The powers of his mind were not rigid but flexible, as, under any variety of scenes, he was capable of being composed and genial. He did not stickle on small points of theology or practice; points he desired to carry he could gracefully introduce; those which he found it necessary or expedient to abandon, he could give up with easy indifference. He was a man of order; and, perhaps what can be said of but few clergymen, he was a man of skilful business talent, a great tactician, a good economist and financier. "Not one in ten of mankind," said he, "know how to do business."
It has been common for persons to speak much about his shrewdness, tact, sagacity and cunning. As some of these traits often unite in unpowerful and secretive natures, I would say that in him they stood connected with much decision of character, independence and boldness. These stronger traits were manifest in every stage of his history. He stood erect and strong inyouth, when answering the tyrannical British magistrate. He put the savages to the extremity of violence rather than acquiesce in a dishonorable mode of conveyance to the seat of justice at the Three Rivers. When about twenty-two, he met a clergyman in New England who confessed to him that he had preached for twelve years in an unconverted state, and whose prayers and sermons were then as spiritless as fallen leaves. Mr. Badger invited him courteously to share in the services of the Sabbath, but on parting he faithfully warned him to seek the life-giving influences of the Holy Spirit. These qualities of tact, shrewdness, cunning, lay under the shadow of stronger and bolder powers. They greatly facilitated his success, so far as this depends on adaptation and proper management; and probably we cannot account for a certain elegant aptness and fitness to the occasion and purpose, which gave peculiar charm to his public discourses, without implying the presence of these intellectual attributes.
It is conceded that it required the extraordinary demand of great occasions, or great opposition, as in the case of controversy, to bring out his greatest intellectual force, though he was happily adapted to ordinary occasions. When obliged to use his power, it came in strong and impressive forms of utterance; all saw his meaning, felt the force of his illustrations and the victorious power of will, which, in minds like his, is strongly determined on the achieving of its aims. In controversy, Joseph Badger was indeed a difficult opponent. We have never heard of any who have claimed a victory against him. The event may possibly have occurred, but the echo thereof has never come to ourears. We doubt that it ever happened. He did not challenge nor seek controversy, nor did he shrink from it when truth and the honor of his cause demanded that formidable opponents should be met. The position of a theological reformer is liable, in the early stages of his work, to receive a great variety of assault; and under such circumstances the peaceful quietness and repose which reside in the established state of the public mind are not his legacy. In a degree, he is to be a moral hero and warrior, and if he wars for truth successfully and handsomely, we should hasten to render him the wreath of honor and praise. We believe that Joseph Badger never stood for the advocacy of views which he did not himself heartily believe; and this conceded, we believe also that he never entered a controversial field without thedeterminationof victory, the end being, in all reason, not so much to persuade the wrangling antagonist as to convince the people. The calmness of his intellect and the composure of his feelings were always conspicuous at such times. Though he had high spirit and temper constitutionally, though his passional nature was uncommonly strong, he was, on all occasions where the passions of others were likely to be inflamed, astonishingly cool. It was the coolness of a pilot amidst the storm. At all times of which we have any knowledge, Mr. Badger was distinguished for this self-command, by which he could rise above surrounding excitement or present calamity. This trait gave him great advantage in discussion; for, from his own cool state, he was sure to learn the weaknesses of temper and of argument on the opposite side, which soon became advantageous capital to his cause.But we do not here design to trace him through his controversial history. The glance we have taken in this direction is simply to exhibit certain qualities that distinguish his mind.
Imagination, without which there is no blue sky of starred excellence in our being, is a faculty which in some degree of richness operates in all creative minds. It was often playfully and often seriously active in the mind of Joseph Badger. It aided his free and happy use of language. It brought to his service a vast number of natural illustrations and figures, both for the ornament of public discourse and social conversation; and in the good taste and fancy, of which the clearest evidences exist, is also implied that something finer than the understanding enriched him. He held in his mind a high standard of poetry; therefore he never sought to approach it by creations of his own. He had intense feeling and delicacy of sentiment, and withal a vein of marvellousness that caused him at times to note in his diary the dreams of his midnight slumber, on which he would afterwards linger in sober reflection. Among his private papers there are a few instances in which his strong presentiments are recorded. The generous enthusiasm of his nature, that gave so much life to his early labors, and that always rendered his influence enlivening, is well balanced by the deliberate intellect that imparted to his action and manner the impress of composure. But it is as a matter-of-fact man chiefly, as a utilitarian in the best sense of that word, as a definite thinker, that his true character appears in the world. He was a great and a natural planner, was most in his element when standingin the centre of some enterprise which aimed at important practical results. In every cause he undertook, his power to concentrate himself upon the single end before him was immense.
Though possessed of great suavity of manners and smoothness of speech, in power ofwilland in firmness of decision he had few equals. He labored with great fidelity and perseverance toward the achievement of his main purpose. He could smile or laugh at the sharpest opposition that might be expressed in his presence, could speak of his plans without using tenacious language, but everything proved in the long run, the power of his will and the solidity of his purpose. His will was by nature and discipline strong, very strong; and he had that which took away the offence which strong-willed persons usually give. Instead of appearing at all wilful, or stubborn, he cast himself upon the assignation of the best reasons, and demeaned himself in a conciliatory bearing toward all. He knew how to give in and how to waive minor matters that he might compromise people of different opinions and prejudices, for which he possessed great tact and skill. Yet when opposition became decided and open, he had no great patience or long-suffering towards the obstacles that stood in his way. He wanted them out of the path, and set to work for their removal. Though he was always courteous, and in social greetings cordial to all, even to enemies and opposers who happened to meet him, he had no taste for rivalry and opposition. He sought to cripple the power of whatever stood in the way as a solid barrier to the success of his dearly cherished plans, an attribute this, whichstrong actors in the world have, we believe, very commonly possessed, from Napoleon of Corsica to the great Democrat of the Hermitage. The kindness of his nature was native and overflowing; but there were circumstances under which his severity was equally conspicuous. Nevertheless, toward the conquered party, his generosity naturally reacted in forms of kindness, and of such, at last, he often made permanent friends and co-workers.
The sympathies and kindness of Mr. Badger, I have elsewhere alluded to as being great. He had a large power of friendship. From this phase of his nature, proceeded his facility for making friends and attaching them to himself. His friends became numerous wherever he went. We cannot account for so noble a fact, without conceding to him the possession of a heart in which the magnetism of human kindness was great, for it takes a power to awaken a power, and selfishness alone never became the radiant centre about which the hearts of the many were happily drawn. The power of sympathy and friendship is an attraction which, like the physical property in nature designated by this name, is in proportion to thequantityof the source from which it flows; also, the proximity or the distance of objects, which suggests another law of this material energy, is likewise true in the world of friendship. For it is nearness, that is to say, it is kindredness of mind, feeling, and experience; it is the ability to furnish other hearts with the true objects of their own affections, that qualifies one to sit as king or queen on the throne of friendship and love. He who lawfully sways this sceptre over the multitudes, is one in whomthe many are represented, who is truly brother to each and to all. Viewed from this sentiment, how can the influences of Joseph Badger be accounted for, except on the ground that his heart was truly great and brotherly? A community of strangers into which he might come soon felt the power of this attraction. Said the honest Barton W. Stone, of Kentucky, in a letter of welcome to his intended second visit to the South:—"Your name is dear to the people of Georgetown. Many are anxiously hoping to greet you;"—though he had but once visited Georgetown and other localities south and west, his name remained in the hearts of the people. This is but a common illustration of what generally occurred in places where he preached several sermons and freely mingled with the people. As a strong example of the lasting attachment he had the power to inspire in his friends, I would mention a circumstance recorded in his private journal while at Boston.
Mr. Jonas Clark, of Dublin, Cheshire Co., N. H., a man of sound mind, who had not seen Mr. B. for thirteen years, but had listened to his early ministry, went to meet him at Boston, August 20, 1828. On coming into his presence he took him by the hand and said: "Can this be Joseph, my friend?" On being answered in the affirmative, he was unable to reply; but turning away his head and leaning over a desk near by, he wept in silence. The memories of the past that rushed into his mind were golden by affection, and years of time and much mingling with the world had not effaced or marred the sacred impress of former years. "Oh, what majesty," said Mr. B., "there isin such tears of love! True friendship is more lasting than time, and it outlives every other principle." Though Mr. Badger had an intellect that was strong and peculiarly original and self-relying, we think on the whole that his stronghold was far more in the hearts of the people than in their merely intellectual regard and admiration. His neighbors who have lived near him for twenty and thirty years, testify to the strict and uniform kindness of his feelings and acts as a neighbor.
To young ministers and to feeble churches, he extended the wealth of his sympathy. He was both a brother in Christ and a father in Israel. Particularly was his sympathy deep and strong for young men just entering into the ministry. Many things in his own life qualified him to be their benefactor. He had himself passed through great trials of mind and of outward circumstances, when a young man of nineteen and twenty, as the result of his choice, or rather of his acceptance of the preacher's mission. No young man would be likely to stand in the midst of greater embarrassments than he had stood. Then his extensive observation of men and things, his knowledge of human nature, his own varied experience of years in the Gospel ministry, his tender sympathies, his gentle and easy manners, which took away fear and restraint, peculiarly fitted him for a nearness of access to their minds, to render them counsel to meet their doubts, and to give them instruction and needful encouragement. He had great skill with which to inspire hope in a young man. He could prune his defective habits, also, without giving offence; and well did he know how to sethis mind upon new trains of thought. First of all, it was his policy to find out the real material of a young man's mind, to learn his real character. To effect this, he gradually threw off whatever in manner should serve to impose restraint, became familiar, perhaps in some instances greatly so, and turned conversation so as to hit on every side of human nature and of the supposed character of the person whose mental and moral dimensions he desired to take. In a few days, at most, he developed his characteristics far enough to be completely satisfied of his capacity, principles and promise. I do not say that this was his method in all cases, but I know of some instances in which it was, and have heard of it in others. The wisdom of this procedure appears in the fact that to qualify young men for the ministry, respect must be had for what in them is individual, as there are no uniform theological moulds into which human nature can be successfully fused and run; and it had the advantage also of enabling the counsellor to decide at the beginning, the most important of all questions, whether a young man is not mistaking the meaning of God as announced in his nature, by assuming the position of a spiritual leader. He gave them books to read and to keep; taught them the great importance of a healthy degree of physical culture; gave them his views of the most useful and successful methods of preaching; taught the supreme importance of religious experience; looked out for them fields of labor, took them to his own appointments, made journeys with them, and if any diffident young man of merit was mortified at the imperfection and feebleness of his own public efforts, he had the finest skill in restoring tohim his lost confidence. Many whose conversions took place under his preaching, became ministers; and very many owe their earliest and best lessons in the ministry to his examples and counsels. To sum up his faculty in this direction, in few words, I should say, he greatly excelled in the power of calling out the minds of others, in developing their resources for good.
He was in the habit of treating young men as if he respected their wisdom. He asked their advice on his own plans and enterprises. This he did, not so much to receive new information as to set their minds upon practical thinking, and to connect their sympathy and intelligence with that which should increase their knowledge. He was always very fond of young people; and nothing more readily enlisted his attention than the appearance of a young man of promise just entering the Gospel ministry. He cordially took him by the hand, welcomed him to his own fireside, and invariably and reverently taught him that there is no station in the universe, that can be occupied by a human being, which is in itself so truly honorable and so sacredly responsible as that of the Christian minister. The same genial power of development here spoken of in regard to young ministers, was equally manifest in relation to young writers. Very much of his influence was genial; therefore, like the sun's ray, it called out the life on which it shone.
His sympathy was also cosmopolitan. He had a passion to know the stirring events of the world. The great enterprises and achievements in different countries awakened him. He was uncommonly fond of the news. A new school of philosophers springing up in a foreign country would not escape his notice; but he had fargreater interest in a new series of events that might be unfolding, and auguring changes in the empires and in the social condition of man. He watched the nations. He also watched the various sects and political parties of his own country. He read every week the most widely circulated Roman Catholic paper of the new continent, studied the olden structure of their organization; and freely and respectfully visited Roman Catholic clergymen whenever he found a resident priest within the vicinity of his own labors. Father William O'Reilly, of Rochester, a very worthy man in the Catholic ministry, frequently received his calls and most kindly reciprocated his friendship. Mr. Badger had indeed no tendencies whatever toward Roman Catholicism, but he profoundly respected religion and human nature, and was pleased to see them in their various phases and manifestations. There were, I would opine, several elements in the Mother Church that had his respect. Indeed, how could it have been otherwise? Protestantism has not in the main been largely originative in theology. Nearly all its great doctrines coming under the head of dogma, are even now those that exist in Rome and that proceeded from Rome. Omission and modification, more than origination are, thus far, the distinction of what is most revered in Protestant faith. In the preaching of Joseph Badger, all seemed to feel the wide and liberal sympathy of his doctrines. Said General Ross, of Wilkesbarre, who went some half a dozen miles to hear him speak, October, 1830:—"I never heard such republican preaching as that before. The society who hold to these principles must prosper."
Within the view here offered, mention might justly be made of the reach of influence he gained over the diverse grades of man. The intelligent and the ignorant, the believer and the sceptic, the man of inward holiness, and the hardest specimens of sin and unbelief, looked up when they heard he was in town; and, from some earnest sympathy, felt that they should hear him. He seemed to have a key fitted to unlock all hearts, so that, from murderers and drunkards, as well as from the penitent and faithful, he drew a tear, and won a confidence through which he had access to what was best in their being. It not unfrequently happened that he had those in his audience who would have listened to no one else, and some who were noted for boldness and originality of sin he ofttimes persuaded into a divine faith, in which they were steadfast and life-long in their pursuit. What signify such phenomena? At least this is implied, that the speaker had a wide form of sympathy, and that the manifold experiences of the world were comprehended by him.
In meeting him often, one never felt that he met a stereotyped man. He was new at each period. So testify his old parishioners. They say, that, in every sermon, there was something fresh, something that was unsaid at previous times, and was new to them. Those who had been acquainted with him for years would see new traits of character, as the varying phase of circumstance and association might suggest. He was plain-spoken; yet, beyond that plain, bold speech, the reserved and the unspoken could often claim large territories their own. Indeed, no man of depths was ever read throughout as an alphabet is read.
No man, probably, ever had a stronger individuality. He was Joseph Badger, and no one else. He was quite free from personal eccentricity; was easy and graceful. But on whom was the impress of individuality ever more decidedly made? Who did he imitate? Look at his language, his manners, his modes of treating a subject, his voice, his entire action, and tell us who was his pattern. What original stood on the foreground of his reverence, commanding even an unconscious conformity? But one answer can be given to these questions. He was a man of marked character, and original beyond what is common to men of superior endowments. Persons who had not seen him for many years at once recognized him at night, on entering a stage-coach or steamboat, merely from hisvoice. His shortest business letters—and very many of his letters are composed of but a couple of paragraphs, and some of but a very few sentences—are stamped with the peculiar character of his mind. They are so concise, so direct, so comprehensive. Character and genius appear in small as well as in great things. Often, in letters of one short paragraph, have I been reminded of Napoleon, of the clear, brief, pithy statements by which that commander expressed himself, both in vocal and in written messages. Since the world stood, we are satisfied there has been butoneJoseph Badger, and we will risk our credit at prophecy in the declaration that another will never appear. Not, indeed, that the creative resources of divinity or humanity are in the least abated, but the pure originalities of the Creator in human history are never repeated.
In drawing the just outlines of his character, there is one prominent feature that commands our attention. I mean the strong proclivity of his mind to lead, to plan, to direct, to be at the centre of operations, to befirst. This proclivity cannot be denied; nor can it be affirmed that it was accustomed to clothe itself in assumptively offensive forms. His passage to the pilot's station was easy and natural, and his labor there appeared as a matter of course. Two reasons account for this trait. The first and chief is founded in nature; the second, in that discipline of experience which, for many years, required him to act a leader's part. If we examine whatever is successful in the history of events belonging to associated action, we shall find that action to be led on by some guiding mind. Everything of much import has its leader, from the passage of the children of Israel through the Red Sea to the founding of the latest literary institution. Even a revolt, a schism, must have a head. The God who has anticipated all human wants has not neglected this need of mankind, but has given them many commanding, guiding spirits, whose quickness of perception, concentration, foresight, courage, and sympathy, inspire the many with confidence in their wisdom. Such men are God's choice gifts. They carry their credentials in their ability. And, as the real man, under whatever circumstances, will tell, there is no good reason why society should not recognize its appropriate guides. Happy are they that do this. The birds that voyage many leagues to the south, and the flocks that roam in the freedom of thewild, never err in their selection of leaders.Theirchiefs are never stupid.
Granting this, that some are made to lead and that many are born to follow, it is important and right that he who can serve his fellows best by acting a leading part shouldknowhis station. It will be natural for him to start first, to stand at the centre of operation, and, if he is kind and fraternal to all, as true leaders ever are, none can justly feel that he is out of his place, or that they are shaded. The true leader in any true cause rejoices in every sign of merit in others. Their strength is his wealth. In the words of Festus,