Nothing is more essential to a well-ordered civil government, than a well-balanced public mind; for want of this, in different ages, laws have been framed and penalties executed in cases which go beyond the reach of human investigation, and relate to subjects of which we can form only faint and obscure conceptions, and consequently all the evidence touching such cases is more or less to be distrusted.
At the period we are now contemplating, the connection between the spiritual world and the physical being of man was supposed to be developed in an extraordinary degree. It was believed the boundaries between the material and invisible states were more clearly defined, and that strange and startling intercourse was held by mysterious agents, on these border territories. It was indeed nonovelty in those days for the civil courts to claim jurisdiction over the rambling vagaries of the mind, and so far as any law affecting the social or civil compact was plainly violated, it was certainly within their office to punish the offence; but the courts travelled out of their way, and, invading the natural rights of man, they entered a field of inquiry, whose dim and uncertain forms could never be reduced to facts, or supply materials of evidence, on which a sober mind could rely. Of this nature was the court organized by Sir William Phipps, for the trial and punishment of witches. It had no legitimate character, and the functions it assumed were entirely beyond the rights of any earthly tribunal. Nevertheless, its authority was acknowledged, and its stern and dreadful mandates were obeyed as promptly as they were issued. The influence of this court, by giving judicial sanction to the extravagances of the times, tended very much to strengthen and prolong the delusion, and the remarkable infatuation of the judges overcame the plain common sense of the jury, which but for their influence would soon have checked the mania, and restored the public mind to calmness and reason.
We have before remarked, that Mr. Willard, the minister of the South Church, was strongly opposed to the proceedings of the courts. This was the more remarkable from the fact, that the chief justice and two of the judges were members of his church. Mr. Willard admitted the possibility of Satanic influence, but he denied that it was visible in any such form as to warrant judicial interference. He remonstrated with great earnestness against the general movements, and there is no doubt he suffered so much reproach on this account, that his remarkable talents and exemplary piety could scarcely sustain him. It is certain also, that he was accused of practicing witchcraft, and though the complaint was rejected by the court, there were not wanting those who believed him confederate with Satan, and a direct agent in promoting his designs upon the people of New England. There were some, however, who took Mr. Willard's ground, and boldly maintained that the court was illegal, and could not in any sense take cognizance of such matters. We have already mentioned Thomas Brattle and John Leverett, tutors of Harvard College; and there is good reason to believe President Mather was of the sameopinion, and attempted to restrain the popular feeling; but no one was more bold than Robert Calef, an eminent merchant of Boston, whose views on the subject were as sound and discriminating as those of any man of that age. No individual did more to dispel the delusion, and the records he has left behind have reared an imperishable monument to his courage, fidelity, and success.
Miss Graham had accepted an invitation from her friend Miss Elliott, to spend the last two weeks of May in Boston. An intimate and endeared friendship now existed between these two young ladies. It was greatly promoted by Lyford, who had carefully studied the character of his sister's friend, and there was no one in his judgment who surpassed Miss Elliott in moral excellence, as well as mental accomplishments. Every attention had been bestowed upon her education; and though her manners and appearance were more formal and stately than comported with the simplicity of the times, yet she universally secured the respect and good-will of all classes in society.
It was grateful to Mary's feelings to retire for a while from the painful scenes she wasevery day compelled to witness at home. Her health and spirits were sinking under the strange excitement which pervaded the community at Salem and its neighborhood, and the change she sought was now absolutely necessary. The two friends were entirely agreed in matters of religious faith, and their intercourse with the world was regulated by a scrupulous regard to Christian decorum and example. The fashionable society of Boston was at that time professedly religious; the outward forms of devotion were generally and greatly respected; yet a powerful current of worldly influence was visible, and the clergymen of those days complained that the vital power of the Gospel was far too little manifested, in the lives and conversation of its professors.
On Miss Graham's arrival at Boston, she was visited by all her friends; but the usual routine of social parties was now nearly suspended. The painful suspicions and jealousies that were abroad had interrupted the peace of families, and extensive divisions in the churches and in general society were disturbing the public harmony, and shaking the foundations of social confidence in a most alarmingdegree. Still the state of things was far better than in Salem; and though the popular feeling even in Boston went along with the belief in supernatural agencies, yet there was enough of common sense remaining to oppose a formidable barrier to the action of courts and judges in the business. This conservative influence prevailed most in the first and third churches; but in the congregation of Cotton Mather, which was very large, there was scarcely a dissenting voice from the general belief, and the Sabbath day exercises at the North Church were almost exclusively governed by the impressions of an invisible world; and the church itself was regarded as the grand post of observation, from which the march and countermarch of Satan's ranks were discerned, while he moved at their head, enlisting recruits for his new kingdom, about to be established.
On the last week in May, a day of fasting and prayer had been solemnly observed in reference to the prevailing calamities. The point of Satan's visible agency was now scarcely disputed, and those who doubted or disbelieved were in too much personal dangerto make any public protest against the prevalent doctrines; yet it was scarcely possible for one who entertained such views as Walter to avoid an occasional sarcasm; and Miss Graham herself was disposed to treat the subject with lightness, in the hope that its folly might in this way be more readily seen. The high standing they occupied was to some extent security from danger. But, on the other hand, there was a feeling of envy and jealousy towards the unsuspecting maiden, which soon involved her in suspicions; and Miss Hallam, who regarded Walter's attachment to Mary with extreme displeasure, availed herself of the general distrust to produce unfavorable impressions wherever her influence extended.
In this state of things the last Sabbath in May arrived. The religious exercises of the week had prepared the people to expect that their ministers would follow up the subject, and give such views of the whole case as comported with their own convictions, and the teachings of Scripture. The day was singularly beautiful; the freshness of its early dawning, and the summer breezes, that were diffusing life and joyousness around, were expressive of a mild and beneficent Providence; but Naturein her calm and delightful aspect, was all unconscious of the dark figures and mysterious demons, that were thronging the imaginations of men; her morning hymn was ascending in grateful chorus from forest, valley, and stream; but she was no longer the handmaid of devotion, for man refused to mingle in her silent or audible aspirations, or in any sense, to bend the knee at her shrine.
At ten o'clock, the bells rang for public worship, and the streets, which till then had been silent as the desert, were now thronged with multitudes on their way to the house of God. Sadness and sorrow were visible in every countenance. The early flowers of spring, the narcissus, the violet, and the snow-drop, which were wont to adorn the dresses, or fringe the hair of the young and beautiful, were utterly neglected, and the silent processions moved along the streets to their respective places of worship, as if they were following the dead to their burial. Even the church bells, which sent their cheerful melodies among the valleys and rocks, now seemed to toll upon the ear, the funeral dirge of all that was bright and happy in the land; the merry laugh of childhood, the clearsunshine of the brow of youth, and the serene tranquillity of maturer years, were suppressed and clouded by an unseen yet terrible influence, before whose mysteries Reason was overthrown, and Religion herself was staggered.
Miss Elliott and Mary, accompanied by their brothers and Strale, left home at the usual time for public worship. As they passed along on their way to the South Church, they were deeply impressed with the state of feeling so obvious around them; to see their fellow beings enslaved by a superstition so unnatural and absurd; to be unable to break the fatal spell which had fallen upon nearly all, and to mark in the dim future those undefined yet assuredly fatal consequences, of whose nature and extent the worst apprehensions might be indulged, filled their minds with anxiety and sorrow. But they endeavored to turn from these sad meditations to the hopes and consolations of the Gospel they loved, and which they firmly believed would deliver the mind from its debasing thraldom, and give to its emancipated powers 'the glorious liberty of the sons of God.'
The South Church occupied the ground on which the present edifice stands, and its site was then called 'the Green.' It was constructed of cedar, and for those times it was an imposing and beautiful edifice; its tall spire, rising from the midst of a grove of buttonwood trees, and far above all surrounding objects, was gazed at with an interest and reverence which in these days is not often bestowed on those significant emblems which point upward to a 'house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.'
The pulpit was located, as now, in the northeast side of the building, and directly in front was a row of seats designed for and occupied by the elders. A small enclosure, still further in front, and facing the congregation, was occupied by the deacons, and before them was a platform, on which the leader of the music stood and conducted the psalmody, in which all who were able to sing, and some who were not, were in the habit of uniting.
On the present occasion, the service was commenced as usual by a prayer occupying about ten minutes, and followed by a psalm from the New-England version then in use, which was first read by Mr. Willard, and thengiven out by the ruling elder, line by line, to the congregation. The selection for the morning was the fifty-first psalm, and its penitential character was strikingly adapted to the time and circumstances of their worship. Many a charming voice united in the simple melody, and many a contrite heart mingled its confessions and prayers, in the true spirit of devotion, with those of the pious psalmist.
As we wish to bring into view the principal features of Sabbath-day worship in those times, we give the following version of the psalm, in the words in which it was sung:
'Have mercy upon me, oh God!According to thy grace;According to thy mercies great,My trespasses deface.'Oh! wash me throughly from my guilt,And from my sin, me clear;For I my trespass know, my sinsBefore thee still appear.'Of joy and gladness, make thou meTo hear again the voice;That so the bones, which thou hast broke,May cheerfully rejoice.'From the beholding of my sinHide thou away thy face;Likewise, all mine iniquities,Oh! do thou clean deface.'
'Have mercy upon me, oh God!According to thy grace;According to thy mercies great,My trespasses deface.'Oh! wash me throughly from my guilt,And from my sin, me clear;For I my trespass know, my sinsBefore thee still appear.'Of joy and gladness, make thou meTo hear again the voice;That so the bones, which thou hast broke,May cheerfully rejoice.'From the beholding of my sinHide thou away thy face;Likewise, all mine iniquities,Oh! do thou clean deface.'
'Have mercy upon me, oh God!According to thy grace;According to thy mercies great,My trespasses deface.
'Have mercy upon me, oh God!
According to thy grace;
According to thy mercies great,
My trespasses deface.
'Oh! wash me throughly from my guilt,And from my sin, me clear;For I my trespass know, my sinsBefore thee still appear.
'Oh! wash me throughly from my guilt,
And from my sin, me clear;
For I my trespass know, my sins
Before thee still appear.
'Of joy and gladness, make thou meTo hear again the voice;That so the bones, which thou hast broke,May cheerfully rejoice.
'Of joy and gladness, make thou me
To hear again the voice;
That so the bones, which thou hast broke,
May cheerfully rejoice.
'From the beholding of my sinHide thou away thy face;Likewise, all mine iniquities,Oh! do thou clean deface.'
'From the beholding of my sin
Hide thou away thy face;
Likewise, all mine iniquities,
Oh! do thou clean deface.'
The musical critic may sneer at the peculiar metre and simple versification, but it is probable the true design of sacred music was far more readily attained in those days and in this homely garb, than it can be by the high pretensions and meretricious ornaments of its modern masters.
The position of Mr. Willard was one of painful embarrassment. He had publicly declared his dissent from the prevalent opinions, and in this advanced stage of the popular delusion, when its early opposers were every day falling into the ranks of its believers, it required no small share of moral courage to maintain his ground. It was expected he would now make known his opinions without reserve, and that these opinions would appear greatly modified, if not totally changed. In this expectation, the church was thronged by multitudes who were anxious to quote his name and authority in support of the wild theories, which were now so generally adopted and believed.
The prayer which followed the music was distinguished for its fervency and pathos, and as the pastor carried up the desires of the congregation in his own affecting and impressive language, the fixed and solemn attention of the audience, indicated that it was no formal service, but one in which all the powers of the soul were deeply absorbed. At the close of the prayer, another psalm was sung, in the following words:
'Thou hid'st in wrath and us pursuest,Thou slay'st and dost not rue;Thou so with clouds dost hide thyself,Our prayer cannot pass through.'Fear and a snare is come on us,Waste and destruction;For my folks' daughters, now mine eyesRun water rivers down.'Come thou into thy chambers, shutThy doors about thee fast;Hide thou awhile, my people,Awhile, till wrath be past.'Lo! from his place God comes againThe world for sin to smite;Earth will her blood reveal—her slain—Earth will bring all to light.'
'Thou hid'st in wrath and us pursuest,Thou slay'st and dost not rue;Thou so with clouds dost hide thyself,Our prayer cannot pass through.'Fear and a snare is come on us,Waste and destruction;For my folks' daughters, now mine eyesRun water rivers down.'Come thou into thy chambers, shutThy doors about thee fast;Hide thou awhile, my people,Awhile, till wrath be past.'Lo! from his place God comes againThe world for sin to smite;Earth will her blood reveal—her slain—Earth will bring all to light.'
'Thou hid'st in wrath and us pursuest,Thou slay'st and dost not rue;Thou so with clouds dost hide thyself,Our prayer cannot pass through.
'Thou hid'st in wrath and us pursuest,
Thou slay'st and dost not rue;
Thou so with clouds dost hide thyself,
Our prayer cannot pass through.
'Fear and a snare is come on us,Waste and destruction;For my folks' daughters, now mine eyesRun water rivers down.
'Fear and a snare is come on us,
Waste and destruction;
For my folks' daughters, now mine eyes
Run water rivers down.
'Come thou into thy chambers, shutThy doors about thee fast;Hide thou awhile, my people,Awhile, till wrath be past.
'Come thou into thy chambers, shut
Thy doors about thee fast;
Hide thou awhile, my people,
Awhile, till wrath be past.
'Lo! from his place God comes againThe world for sin to smite;Earth will her blood reveal—her slain—Earth will bring all to light.'
'Lo! from his place God comes again
The world for sin to smite;
Earth will her blood reveal—her slain—
Earth will bring all to light.'
The text was then announced, and was at once indicative of the sentiments and designs of the preacher. It was the first verse of the fourth chapter of John's Epistle: 'Beloved, believe not every spirit, but try the spirits whether they be of God.'
The preacher assumed as an undoubted fact, fully warranted by the Scriptures, that spiritual agencies for good and ill were constantly at work among men, but it was so difficult to define their nature, their peculiar offices, and the extent of their power, that it was our wisdom to avoid all speculation, except so far as was necessary to guard against practical error.
It was now a popular theory, that evil spirits assumed visible forms, and were permitted to make compacts or treaties with such as were pleased with their terms and conditions. This doctrine he denounced as in the highest degree absurd and dangerous, declaring it was a delusion fraught with the worst consequences, that the kind of evidence by which this theory was supported was totally unwarranted, and could not for a moment be trusted by a sound and discriminating mind.
He then proceeded to analyze the mind, itsnature, its liability to mistake, its unsuspected deceits, its love of fable and delight in the marvellous and supernatural. He pointed out the frequent errors of the imagination; that it changes material substances, and creates in air, on earth, and in the ocean, innumerable shapes, which it clothes in beauty or gloom, according to the light in which these objects are contemplated. He then described its effects on the physical system, producing nervous agitation, fancied maladies, and strange distortions of the countenance, which it falsely attributes to unnatural and unreal causes.
Such being the character of the mind, it was impossible in the nature of the case to discriminate so accurately between its own actings and those of spiritual agents, as to measure the criminality of persons charged with the practice of witchcraft, or warrant the interference of the civil law. It often happens that a state of mind, supposed to be in the highest degree criminal, is the result of insanity and disease, and calls for sympathy and relief, instead of reproach and punishment; and in conclusion he declared his full conviction, that a lying spirit, like that of the prophets of Ahab, was now abroad in the land, and in the fulness ofhis grief over the public calamities, he entreated and charged his people to try the spirits, to criticise severely every ground of accusation; for among the devices of Satan, none were more common than deception and fraud, and it was not impossible for him to persuade even the pious to believe a lie, for he was a liar from the beginning, and himself the father of lies.
Such a sermon and at such a time, could not fail to produce a strong excitement. As the congregation retired from the house, signs of displeasure were manifest on every side. The high reverence in which the character of Mr. Willard had been held, could scarcely restrain the general feeling of anger; but there were some who deeply sympathized with their minister, and felt that this noble testimony against the prevailing delusion, was as imperiously demanded, as it was faithfully and fearlessly given.
'It is good to see a little light in these dark days,' said Lyford, addressing Miss Elliott on their return from church. 'Mr. Willard has acted the hero and the christian.'
'He has indeed,' said Margaret; 'I hope his counsels will be regarded; for I am confident he has given them at the risk of his life.'
'I never before heard a sermon,' said Lyford, 'which contained so much sound mental philosophy. If feeling and fanaticism condemn it, reason and common sense will approve. But he who has most of the former, and least of the latter, is counted the wisest man in these days.'
'Yet these are times,' said Margaret, 'in which the truly wise man may add vastly to his stock of wisdom. It is interesting after all to trace the windings and workings of thisfanaticism, especially when it acts upon such minds as Cotton Mather's. This man is a perfect paradox to me. His mind is original and bold, yet his language is often so puerile as to disgrace his intellect. His manners and conversation are pleasing and often fascinating; he is beyond all his compeers in industry and intelligence, yet his pedantry and superstition are intolerable. I have a great desire to hear him preach this afternoon. Miss Graham also wishes to go; and as the occasion is so remarkable, I think we shall be justified in leaving our own church. If you and Mr. Strale will accompany us, your curiosity at least will be gratified, and we hope some greater good may be the result.'
Walter and Lyford readily consented, and when the interval of public worship had elapsed, the party went to the North Church, where the services commenced at two o'clock. An immense congregation had assembled, for it was understood Mr. Mather would defend the popular theories, and on such an occasion no one could be listened to with more interest and attention. After the preliminary exercises by Dr. Mather, which were exceedingly interesting, and a psalm of nearly the samecharacter as those sung at the South Church in the morning, the text was announced by Cotton Mather from Isaiah xxviii., 15: 'For your covenant with death shall be disannulled, and your agreement with hell shall not stand. When the overflowing scourge shall pass by, ye shall be trodden down by it.'
The great object of this discourse was to support the position that Satan has confederates among men, and that some of these individuals are parties to a covenant or agreement, in virtue of which they are regularly enlisted in his service, and empowered to act in his behalf.
The nature and provisions of this contract, he alleged, were in general uniform, though in some cases slight variations were made, and now and then special powers were conferred. The confessions of witches, and the concurring testimony of the Bible, furnished an amount of proof on this subject, which, however remarkable and opposed to the usual course of events, could not be rejected without incurring the displeasure of God, and subjecting the land to still greater encroachments from the powers of darkness. The providence of God had unfolded a variety of factsfrom which we were enabled to state the general terms and conditions on which the confederacy was founded, and he felt it due to the occasion and to his people to make known its principal features, in the belief that it might induce his hearers to watch the first approaches of Satan, and shun every possible temptation.
To the mind, in its common apprehensions, he said the influence of Satan was only perceived in the general forms of temptation and suggestion; but in proportion as it yielded its consent to sin, in these days of Satan's peculiar power, its perceptions of the invisible world became enlarged and distinct, and the advantages and pleasure of sin were greatly magnified, while its dreadful consequences were thrown entirely in the back ground, and the mind was wholly occupied in grasping at the luminous and beautiful forms which were made to pass over the imagination. In this state of feeling the suggestions of Satan became more rapid and distinct, until they were imbodied in a regular system. At this stage of the transaction, Satan appears in a visible form, adapted to the temper and feelings of his victim, doing no violence to hisnatural taste, but assuming an air of dignity and authority, blended with seeming kindness, and proffers his terms of treaty on a scroll, in the form of interrogatory, in substance as follows:
First. Have you a supreme contempt for the laws and authority of God?
Secondly. Are you disposed to resist his will, and gratify your own?
Thirdly. Do you reject the Scriptures so called, as containing unjust and unreasonable requirements?
Fourthly. Do you contemn and despise the sacraments and institutions of God?
Finally. Do you surrender yourself, soul and body, to my service, to be employed in whatever way I may judge conducive to the progress of my kingdom among men?
These questions, and others like them, are accompanied by a statement of immunities and privileges which Satan promises to confer in case the party gives his assent, and pledges himself to fidelity in all parts of the compact to the best of his ability. The advantages to be conferred on the part of Satan are as follows:
First. He promises to preserve his subjectfrom all personal danger, for having entered into this contract.
Secondly. To allow him free indulgence in whatever sins may be most agreeable to his taste and disposition.
Thirdly. To invest him with new faculties, by which he may enter the spiritual world, and hold communion with kindred spirits, who inhabit the regions of the air.
Fourthly. To give him power over the bodies and minds of others, that he may torment and perplex them, and then free them from disquietude and pain, on condition that they will come over to his service.
Finally. To give him honors and rewards in his kingdom, proportioned to the value of his services and the degree of his fidelity.
The terms being agreed upon, the solemn assent of both parties is given, and the bond is written in mystical characters, sealed with a black seal, and the miserable man signs it with a pen dipped in his own blood. After this, all fear of God, all dread of wrath, all sensibility of conscience, and every disposition to good cease for ever, and no renewing grace, no sanctifying influence can evermore visit thatheart, which is thus abandoned of its Maker, and separated to all evil and misery for ever.
Such, continued the preacher, is the nature, and these are the terms of this dreadful confederacy. For its proof, we have only to refer to the facts and confessions that are daily passing under our observation. That Satan has come down upon us in great wrath, is no longer to be denied; that God, for wise but inscrutable reasons, has permitted this calamity to come upon the land, no one can doubt. These reasons in due time will be unfolded, and meanwhile we may be assured that our sins as a community have done much to provoke God, our rightful governor, to leave us a prey to this 'roaring lion, who goeth about seeking whom he may devour.'
But if any one denies that the confessions and statements which have been so often and solemnly made, are to be relied upon, we will refer them to an unerring record, an infallible proof that Satan possesses such power on earth. The plainest precepts of the Mosaic law recognized such wicked agencies, and provided for them summary and dreadful punishment. The first king of Israel worshipped at the altar of demons, and at the instance of awitch, the holy Samuel stood before him. In the dim shadows of the invisible state, that venerable form, in distinct and solemn features, was presented to his eye, and in the strange and mystical tones of that unimagined state of being, denounced the death and ruin of himself and his house. As we come down to later times, we find in the days of our blessed Saviour, the presence and power of evil spirits, and it was one of his offices of love to deliver men from this cruel bondage; and in all succeeding times, we see traces of the same dreadful agencies, until at length, upon this land, consecrated to God, the visible footsteps of the destroyer are seen, and every means of expulsion which the Scriptures warrant, must be employed to drive him from our midst.
Having thus stated the nature and proof of this confederacy, he proceeded to point out the means by which the tempter might be resisted and overcome. These, he said, were obviously watchfulness, fasting and prayer. When a christian was faithful in these duties, there was little danger of being overcome by temptation, and he detailed at length, the times and seasons and the different points ofcharacter at which the assaults of Satan would be most successfully directed, and the various methods by which he might be repelled. He then showed that Satan could not, and never intended to perform his part of the contract; that so long as his subject was useful in his cause, he might defend and protect him; but the moment his affinity with the master spirit was detected and exposed, he seldom, or never interposed to save him from punishment. He then closed his discourse by the most passionate entreaties to his people, to guard against the wiles of the adversary; to watch and pray lest they entered into temptation; to repent of their sins, which had brought down the judgments of God on the land, and to be fruitful in those works of faith and labors of love which would prove the sincerity of their trust in God, and turn away from his heritage these tokens of his anger.
As Strale and his friends returned from church, the sermon was a fruitful theme of conversation. 'I could almost forgive Mr. Mather for his superstition,' said Walter, 'if it would hurt no one but himself.'
'And why pardon it in him,' said Mary, 'when you condemn it so much in others?'
'Because,' returned Walter, 'I admire his genius: it is grand and beautiful even in its illusions; he has the faculty of making rank folly appear like luminous and well-supported truth.'
'And it is the more criminal and dangerous for all this,' returned Mary; 'he reminds me of a beautiful stream, which in the distance is invested with a thousand charms. Its banks are arched with shades and bordered with flowers. Every thing is inviting and lovely; but when you approach, the rustling of the serpent among its bushes, and the poisonous green on its margin, show you that Death has planted his engines among that foliage, and hurls his arrows with destructive aim upon the unsuspecting traveller.'
'It is safe enough for me, Mary, to admire the beauty of that river, provided I see its dangers and avoid them; but I am fully aware of the justice of your views, and in the present state of public feeling, such a sermon may do inexpressible harm. I cannot doubt Mr. Mather's sincerity, but he ought to know better; he has the means of knowing better and is deeply responsible for the mischievous effects of such preaching. He has a wonderfulfaculty of making the worse appear the better reason, and clothing his own hallucinations in the garb of truth; but he will never be a safe man, and I dread his influence in our political circles.'
'We must deal with him in all charity,' said Mary; 'he aims to do good, and I have a prevailing opinion of his piety, though I must confess, the picture is shaded by many a sombre line.'
The young friends soon reached home, and agreeably to the pious custom of those days, each one retired to his chamber for meditation and prayer. These duties were kept up till nearly sunset, when the family assembled at the tea table, where no secular conversation was permitted to intrude. The evening was usually occupied in religious conversation or sacred music. On the present occasion, some appropriate selections were made from the version of Sternhold and Hopkins, at that time used by the Church of England, and the sweet voices of the young maidens gave utterance to strains of melody which for culture and expression, were seldom heard in the primitive days of New England.
The later hours of the evening were spentin the garden. The moon was riding with her starry train, in peerless beauty above them. The fragrance of the apple blossoms filled the air, and the sweet tranquillity of a Sabbath eve came down upon this lovely circle of friends, as they contemplated that better land, whose vivid emblems were shining above and around them.
The beautiful month of June was now spreading its green ornaments over the face of New England. Never did the early summer unfold a more luxuriant foliage, or cover the fields with a fresher beauty, than that which now adorned the land. The forests and gardens were vocal with the music of birds, the rose and violet came forth in unwonted fragrance, and a cloud of incense went up from every valley and hill, to the praise of their Creator and Lord. The world of nature was moving on in perfect harmony and beauty. But the world of mind was in ruins, its stately palaces had fallen, Reason was dethroned, and a dark mass of chaotic elements moved over its surface in mingled confusion and horror. Spirits of evil were riding on the blast, unnatural and distorted shapes occupied everyfield of thought and reflection, and Superstition held in her mighty grasp whatever element opposed her power, and scowled in triumph and scorn over a perverted understanding and a misguided conscience.
On the 10th of June, 1692, the first victim of this mournful delusion died at the scaffold and by the hands of the public executioner. Her indictment stated, that she had made a covenant with Satan, and in obedience thereto, was engaged in the practice of wicked arts, to the great annoyance of godly persons. The nature of these practices was described at length, and consisted in the infusion of wicked and devilish thoughts into minds hitherto pure and uncorrupt, in the infliction of sharp pains on the hands, the neck and the limbs of the sufferer, in various temptations to assist the devil in his nefarious designs upon the peace and order of society, and in promises of future rewards if the party would consent to become a subject and servant of Satan.
A company of nervous and agitated witnesses supported the indictment, by testifying to the power she exerted over their minds and bodies, and the wild actings of their own fanaticism, and its physical effects, were imputedby them to a mysterious energy derived by the supposed witch from the master of apostate spirits. On such evidence as this, she was condemned by the highest court in New England, and, by a sentence most unjust and cruel, was consigned to an ignominious death. As the multitude, who witnessed the execution, retired from the dreadful spectacle, it was only to tremble for themselves and for each other: even the pleadings of mercy and the voice of pity were suppressed, and those who dared to intimate a belief in opposition to the prevalent opinions, were the first to be suspected and arrested.
On the evening of this day, two persons were seen on their way to the house of Mr. Parris, the clergyman of Danvers, at that time called 'Salem village.' One of these was a young man of genteel appearance, and the other a female, whose dress was that of a country maiden, but whose sharp countenance and cunning, selfish aspect denoted that she was intelligent beyond her apparent condition. The conversation was earnest and vehement on both sides; and as they approached the house, the slowness of their pace indicated that their plans, or purposes, were not fully matured.
'This business looks too serious to me,' said the female; 'I hardly dare undertake it. Miss Graham must be innocent; and how can I be the cause of her death?'
'Did you not say,' said Trellison, 'that she had been the cause of constant torment and vexation, that she controlled your movements, and by a look suspended your purposes; that in her presence, you would weep or smile, without any cause whatever? Moreover, did you not see her at that cursed sacrament of devils, where every vow is sealed by blood, and where she solemnly ratified the hellish compact? What are all these but proofs of her damnable affinity with Satan? You cannot go back. The Lord requires your service, and it must be done.'
'But, Mr. Trellison,' replied the female, 'if I take this course, what will become of me? I shall be shunned by the good; and if Miss Graham is acquitted, where shall I find recompense and security?'
'Have I not told you of recompense? Is it nothing to free the world from the possessed of Satan? Is it nothing to foil the great adversary of soul and body? Is it nothing to free yourself from these annoyances? Is it nothing, Clarissa, to save your own life?'
'My own life—what is that worth, Mr. Trellison, if the mind is loaded with conscious guilt? Even now, I start at every shadow, and imagine a foe in every one I meet. And what is the amount of this victory over Satan, as you call it? Why it seems to me, such a victory would be my ruin. But I have started in the race, and fate seems to press me onward. I may be doing God service. Will you, Mr. Trellison, pledge yourself that my reward shall be reasonable and sure?'
'I have pledged my word, and the assurances of all the faithful are yours, that whatever injury any one suffers in this righteous cause, shall be fully recompensed. You shall be rewarded.'
They now separated as they approached the house, and Clarissa, who had been fully instructed in the part she was to act, entered the kitchen, and took her place with the servant, with whom she had long been acquainted. Trellison, as he entered the parlor, saw Mr. Parris, through an open door, seated in his library alone. They had long been familiar acquaintances, and though the clergyman was many years his senior, yet he was fully aware of the reputation of his friend forpiety, and had known him personally since his first entrance at Harvard College. After some desultory conversation, the mournful events of the day were called up, and Mr. Parris remarked, that he looked back upon its scenes with extreme agitation and horror. 'Surely, Mr. Trellison,' said he, 'it was a dreadful sacrifice. But how could it be avoided?'
'It was a sacrifice well pleasing to the Lord,' said Trellison. 'Why start, Mr. Parris, at the sternness of the divine command? Must our pity overcome our sense of obligation?'
'No indeed,' said Mr. Parris; 'and here is the bitterness of the trial. He that putteth his hand to the plough, is forbidden to look back: but how can I behold such misery without a tear of pity?'
'When Abraham was commanded to slay his son,' said Trellison, 'he laid him on the altar and took the knife in his hand. Was there any misgiving? Doubtless pity moved his heart; but his hand was true to the divine mandate, and he only forbore at the express command of God.'
'But are we equally sure, that God commands us to this work of violence? Might we not by prayer disarm the Tempter, and drive him from our midst?'
'Faith without works is dead; and how can we expect the blessing of God, but in the use of means? Shall Satan rage in our land, and the servant of God remain idle at his post? Every thing depends on the energy and zeal with which this arch-apostate is hunted and driven from his hiding places; and those, who harbor him and practice his wicked devices, must perish without mercy.'
'True, most true, Mr. Trellison: forgive the momentary, the sinful pity, which would, if indulged, unnerve my hand, and draw me back from the service of God. I would not shrink from my duty; but I am startled and confounded at the numbers who have engaged in this cursed league with Satan. They must be punished. You are aware, that a society has recently been formed for the discovery and punishment of witches. This scroll was brought to me to-day by a member, and all the persons on this list will be watched, and probably most of them arrested. If you know of other cases, where the charges can be supported by competent evidence, it will be my duty to present them to the society.'
Trellison took the list, which contained the names of seven or eight persons. Most ofthese had long been suspected; but the last name on the scroll was that of one, whose blameless life and holy profession had hitherto given him a high rank in the community. It was the Rev. George Burroughs, a minister of the gospel, of the same religious faith as that of Mather, Parris and their associates, and perfectly exemplary in his deportment and conversation.
'And has it come to this?' said Trellison. 'Oh, the power of these hellish arts, that have profaned even the house of God, and turned the servant of Christ to a minister of Satan! But I can hardly credit what you say. Is the proof convincing?'
'Perfectly so,' said Mr. Parris. 'He was Satan's minister at that dreadful sacrament, in which most of those now in prison bound themselves to his service by their own signature, under the bloody seal. Moreover, he has the promise of being a prince in Satan's kingdom; and he took one of those faithful maidens, who have put their lives in jeopardy for the service of God, and carried her to a high mountain, where, after the fashion of his master, he showed her the glory of the world,and promised to give her all, if she would but sign her name. But she wisely told him, those things were not his to give, and refused to sign. Such is the evidence against Mr. Burroughs. There is no alternative; we have canvassed the whole matter, and he must die.'
'So perish all the enemies of the Lord!' said Trellison. 'And now, Mr. Parris, there is yet one name to be added to that gloomy catalogue. Until now, I have not been nerved with strength to go forward in this divine work, and while my heart rebels at every step and my whole frame is convulsed with agony, I pronounce the name of Mary Graham.'
Mr. Parris started from his seat. 'Such a name, and from you, Mr. Trellison?'
'Tremble not, my friend, nor wonder at what seems so strange. I have had such revelations from the Lord, such experience of her dreadful compact with the Prince of darkness, and such proofs from others who know her well, that, upon the peril of my soul, I dare not disobey a voice louder than seven thunders to my ears. Miss Graham is bound over to Satan!'
'I cannot credit your assertions, Mr. Trellison: Miss Graham is above all suspicion. Ifsuch a mind is affected by this dreadful influence, who of us shall escape?'
'Nevertheless you must,' said Trellison. 'I was once held in bondage by her magic arts: but, thanks to God, my soul is now at liberty; escaped, as a bird out of the snare of the fowler. But others are still entangled in her yoke of bondage, and they must be liberated. Some of our students have fallen under her power, and under this roof is one who is daily persecuted by her devices. Clarissa Snow, the faithful servant of Mr. Ellerson, is now here, and will tell you in person what she has suffered.'
'Oh, righteous God!' said Mr. Parris, 'spare me this heavy blow! let not thy wrath wax hot against thy servant; and if this work of judgment must proceed, consign it, I beseech thee, to other hands, and let no more blood be found in my skirts!'
'What means this language?' said Trellison. 'Has not God vouchsafed to you his peculiar presence and blessing? has he not revealed to you these mysteries of iniquity, and made you the honored instrument of bringing to light the hidden things of darkness? will you pause in the work to which he calls you?
'I cannot pause,' replied Mr. Parris; 'but I know not how to proceed. Once more, I appeal to Heaven for the rectitude of my purposes; and if I am the chosen instrument to sweep the chaff from his threshing floor, I can only say—Oh God, thy will be done! let me not turn back from this work; let me not blench in this terrible conflict with the powers of darkness; let me not turn my hand from the shedding of blood, till a voice from the excellent Glory tells me to forbear!'
'And now,' he added, 'your testimony shall be examined, and if it be such as the revelations of God to my own soul shall approve, Miss Graham, whatever may be the consequences, must be arrested.'
In a few moments, Clarissa was introduced, and to the several questions that were asked, she replied in such a manner as confirmed the statements of Trellison. She complained of various torments in the presence of Miss Graham, which torments ceased when she was absent. She also complained of dark purposes and evil thoughts, which always vanished when Miss Graham was out of sight.
It is not necessary to repeat more, for thecredulous clergyman was easily convinced; and moreover, these results accorded with those inward revelations which to him were conclusive evidence of her guilt; and he now, though with a trembling hand, added her name to the list of victims.
This was but the first step in the dark machinations of Trellison. He knew the ground he occupied was treacherous: but confiding in the strength of the public delusion, and perhaps believing, in part, he was doing God service, he was emboldened to proceed and carry on his designs of blood. In the picture, which the conversation we have related gives of his character, the lines are deepened to an uncommon shade of guilt. But in the midst of the revenge he sought, there were feelings of gloomy fanaticism, which probably concealed from his own view the enormity of his purposes, and even clothed them with a false lustre. He was a believer in these compacts with Satan; and the very unaccountable testimony of credible witnesses had led him to look upon those who practiced witchcraft, as persons who must be cut off, and the land be purged, in this way, from thedemons who had broken loose upon it. Yet in the midst of all, there must have been moments, when the accuser Conscience broke in upon his refuge of lies, and upbraided him with a purpose, which came nearer to the acts of Satan, than any which visible evidence had yet developed.
Soon after the return of Lyford from Hadley, Strale having no longer any special occasion for Pompey's services, determined to give him his liberty, in advance of the time specified by his father. He accordingly informed Pompey that he now wished him to enjoy the luxury he had so long desired, that of being his own master. Walter furnished him with a small sum of money, and Mr. Gardner assured him he should have employment about the wharf at reasonable wages. Pompey was in raptures in the possession of his newly acquired liberty, and for many days his enjoyment was unbounded. But he had no notion of being employed as a laborer; and having procured a fashionable hat, with silk stockings and a coat well covered with gilded buttons, and silver buckles on his shoes, Pompey struttedup and down King street for a month or more, to the great amusement of the shop keepers, and with such vast opinions of his own consequence, as no amount of ridicule could possibly diminish. But the golden dream could not last always; it was not broken, however, till the last penny of his cash had disappeared, when he awoke to the consciousness that he had played the fool, and that his pretensions to the character of a gentleman of leisure must be abandoned. In this condition, he had recourse to Strale as his only friend, and begged him to find employment for him on a farm, at a distance from town, where he was willing to go back to his old habits of labor and care. Walter had taken no pains to arrest him in his course of folly, believing that experience was the only cure for his extravagant dreams; but he was very willing to assist him in any way, that might promote his good, and accordingly procured for him a situation on a farm in Danvers, occupied by Mr. Putnam, a highly respectable man, who promised to watch the motions and check the follies of Pompey, as much as might be in his power.
It was a new and not very agreeable scene to Pompey. He had no chance for the displayof authority; but was ordered to mind his own business, whenever he presumed to step out of his sphere. This life of discipline was too severe to be endured, and he gradually became remiss in his labors, until at length, it required the constant exercise of authority to induce him to labor at all. In this condition, he contrived various methods of escape from a post that was every way disagreeable; but he well knew, that if he left Mr. Putnam without good reason, he had nothing further to expect from Walter. Happily for him, as he thought, the witch delusion was now advancing with a power which nothing could resist; he saw the influence and importance which had been gained by the impostors who pretended to be afflicted; and there seemed no way so likely to mend his fortunes as to be afflicted himself, and then turn informer.
With a view to carry out this policy, Pompey went to Mr. Parris and entered a complaint against his master. He declared, that Mr. Putnam tormented him night and day, and that strange things were going on at the farm; that one morning a field of grass was cut without hands, and the hay was put into the barn, perfectly dry in one hour after cutting;and that only the day before, as he was at work loading hay, Mr. Putnam stood at a long distance from him, with a hayfork in his hand, and that, in a mysterious manner, the fork entered his arm, inflicting a severe wound, the effects of which were now visible. These wonderful events excited the astonishment of the clergyman, who sent for the farmer, and requested his attendance on the afternoon of the next day.
A few minutes after Trellison's departure, the farmer entered the room, and found his minister in a reclining posture, and apparently absorbed in deep meditation. 'I have come,' said he, 'Mr. Parris, in obedience to your summons, and wish to know your pleasure.'
'Satan is among my flock, Mr. Putnam, and as the good shepherd careth for his sheep, I have feared you may be entangled in his wiles.'
'In my belief, and I am sorry to say it,' said the farmer, 'Satan has more to do with the minister than among the people.'
'Dare you speak thus to the Lord's ambassador, his commissioned and anointed servant, whom he has clothed with the helmet ofsalvation, and the shield of faith, that he may quench the fiery darts of the devil?'
'You claim a high character, Mr. Parris; but I have heard of wolves in sheeps' clothing, and the course you are pursuing, leaves me in little doubt whose servant you are.'
'What other language than this is to be expected from those who have signed the black book, and eaten the sacrament of devils. You have sold yourself to the service of Satan, and these are the cursed fruits of your compact; it was to question you on this point, that I sent for you to-day, and you owe it to my forbearance, that your name is not now on the scroll of the accused. I wished to know whether the evidence of your servant Pompey could be relied on. Your own language now convinces me of its truth, and you will soon reap the wages of your iniquity.'
'I well know,' replied Mr. Putnam, 'how little evidence it takes to satisfy you, when you are resolved to carry out your purposes. Your own inward convictions, you say, support the evidence of my servant. It will, however, be well for you to inquire, how far his testimony may be trusted. I have broughthim with me, that you may question him in my presence.'
'It is a grace you do not deserve, but to show you my forbearance and lenity, I will admit and question him now. You shall not be condemned without a hearing.'
This concession from Mr. Parris was sudden and unexpected; but he knew the sturdy character of Putnam, his excellent reputation, and the danger of pushing matters to extremity. He was therefore glad of the opportunity to come down from the high ground he had taken, and to assume the appearance of fairness and liberality.
Pompey was now introduced, and the poor African was in no very enviable position, between the two inquisitors; but he made the best of his circumstances, and sat down quietly to undergo the examination.
'You seem to be in a calmer state to-day, Pompey,' said the clergyman; 'I hope the cause of your trouble is removed.'
'Witch gone, Massa Parris, all gone; Pompey well as ever.'
'Thanks be to God!' said the clergyman; 'he has heard my prayer. I wrestled with him a full hour on your account, and he gaveme faith to believe that the devil would be cast out.'
'Massa Putnam got the witch out; he did it all himself—nobody helped him.'
'What do you mean, Pompey? I do not understand you.'
'I must now explain,' said Putnam, 'and am willing to apologize for the language I used when I came in, so far as to express my belief that you are under a strong delusion, and I do not wish to impute to you corrupt and wicked motives. You have been a good minister, and a kind man in past years, and you well know that in the contest for your parish rights, I have taken your side and supported your claims; but in these witch prosecutions, I have been astonished at the madness of your course, and can only account for it on the ground that you are partially insane; and now in regard to the change in Pompey, I will tell you all the facts. I went out this morning to oversee some men whom I had employed to dig a well. Pompey was there, dancing about in strange attitudes, and presently he threw himself on the ground and began to bite the roots of a tree, and fill his mouth with gravel. I asked him the cause ofhis strange conduct, and his only reply was, 'Witch, Massa, witch got into Pompey.'
'Who put the witch in, Pompey?' was my next question.
'You, Massa; all well, when you go away.'
'Well, Pompey,' said I, 'if I made you sick, I ought to cure you. The same person who put the witch in, ought to drive the witch out; and taking him to a tree, I gave him, at least, forty stripes, every one of which seemed to possess a magic power. The witches fled in every direction, and I have brought him to you to-day, clothed, and in his right mind. Now, Mr. Parris, I would not detract from the efficacy of your prayers; you know my reverence for religion; but in my poor opinion, if you would take those four wicked girls, (one of whom, I grieve to say it, is my niece, and bears the honest name of Putnam,) and apply the same remedy which has done so much for Pompey, no sign of witchcraft would be seen, and the community would be restored to reason and common sense.'
So saying, the farmer took his departure with Pompey, leaving the minister to his own reflection, and to the deep mortification andshame, in which his own credulity and folly had involved him.
The position of Mary Graham was now critical and alarming. Since her return to Salem, she had boldly condemned the witch proceedings, and in every circle where she moved, her whole influence was directed against the prevailing delusion. Unappalled by the dangers that surrounded her, she extended her sympathy and pity to those who were in prison, and favored the escape of some who were in imminent danger of arrest. In these offices of love and charity she was nearly alone; for though her friends admired her courage and fortitude in the cause of humanity, yet few of them dared to imitate her example. She wrote to Walter and her brother, begging them in concert with Mr. Willard to see Dr. Mather, who had returned from England, and enlist his influence to suspend all further prosecutions. But this good man, though he deplored the excesses into which the community was rushing, either believed the evil would soon be cured, or was so far influenced by his son, that he could not be induced to take a bold stand against the courts; yet it is believed he used much private remonstranceand expostulation, and it was generally supposed the public movements had none of his countenance and support.
Walter replied to Mary's letter, and informed her that no measure had been left untried with Sir William Phipps and his advisers; but nothing could be done; the delusion had seized the minds of the most gifted men in the land, and it was vain to hope for relief until the public malady had run its course; and he expressed his fears that her own standing in society, and the general esteem in which she was held, might not prove a sufficient protection against the envy and malice of some, and the credulity and superstition of others. He expressed his admiration of the course she had taken, but in the present violent stage of the delusion he thought it would be best for her to retire from active participation in any remedies which might be applied, as they could not benefit others, and might be attended by the worst consequences to herself.
Stoughton's court was now in full operation. His associates were Gedney, Winthrop and Sewall. This court was confessedly illegal, but the urgency of the occasion was considered a sufficient warrant for its organization.It was, in fact, an exparte tribunal, as all the judges were known to favor the superstition, and the only hope for those who were brought before it was in the jury, who were so perplexed and overawed, as in general to conform their verdicts to the known opinions of the court.
While affairs remained in this state, there was little prospect of relief from courts and judges. No other hope remained than that the delusion would soon show itself in forms so extravagant and revolting as to excite the contempt and rouse the indignation of the public. This conviction soon reached the mind of Miss Graham, and she forbore to remark upon the subject with her accustomed freedom. In fact it was no longer safe to ridicule or condemn; and with all her popularity and the universal esteem in which she had been held, it was evident she was now regarded with distrust and suspicion. Mr. Ellerson, whose views in general agreed with those of Mary, was extremely guarded and cautious, and often suggested to her his fear that she spoke with too little reserve. In fact, she was soon painfully convinced on this point: many of those whom she loved, began to withdraw from hersociety, and in various methods discovered their coolness and reserve. She was no longer welcomed with the smile of confidence and affection, and her evening walks, in which she was usually attended by several young ladies and gentlemen, were either wholly omitted or kept up in solitude. This change of the public feeling towards Mary was equally sudden and startling. She was unable to perceive the causes, or trace the insidious agents, who were fastening their toils around her. Neither explanation nor satisfaction could be had, and the mysterious reserve still gathered and increased, wherever she went. Some of her friends, particularly the Higginsons, confessed they dared not be seen in her society, while they privately assured her that their friendship was unabated, and begged she would still regard them with confidence and love.
There was a beautiful walk on the ground now occupied by the Salem Common and the buildings on its left, in the direction towards Beverly. This was a favorite resort for Mary, a place where she indulged in many a happy contemplation on the works of nature, and the wonders of Providence: here too, in the sweet interchange of sympathy and affection withher young companions, she found sources of innocent and unalloyed satisfaction, and sometimes when alone, as she penetrated the depths of the forest and sat down on the green border of the rivulet, or under the shade of the magnificent elm, she realized what the poet many years after sung, in numbers that will never cease to move the contemplative and pious mind: