York, June 30, 1774.
I have nothing to do here but to take the air, inquire for news, talk
politics, and write letters.
I regret that I cannot have the pleasure of enjoying this fine weather
with my family, and upon my farm. Oh, how often am I there! I have but a
dull prospect before me. I have no hope of reaching Braintree under a
fortnight from this day, if I should in twenty days.
I regret my absence from the county of Suffolk this week on another
account. If I was there, I could converse with the gentlemen[19] who are
bound with me to Philadelphia; I could turn the course of my reading and
studies to such subjects of Law, and Politics, and Commerce, as may come
in play at the Congress. I might be furbishing up my old reading in Law
and History, that I might appear with less indecency before a variety of
gentlemen, whose educations, travels, experience, family, fortune, and
everything will give them a vast superiority to me, and I fear even to
some of my companions.
This town of York is a curiosity, in several views. The people here are
great idolaters of the memory of their former minister, Mr. Moody. Dr.
Sayward says, and the rest of them generally think, that Mr. Moody was
one of the greatest men and best saints who have lived since the days of
the Apostles. He had an ascendency and authority over the people here,
as absolute as that of any prince in Europe, not excepting his
Holiness.[20]
This he acquired by a variety of means. In the first place, he settled
in the place without any contract. His professed principle was that no
man should be hired to preach the gospel, but that the minister should
depend upon the charity, generosity, and benevolence of the people.
This was very flattering to their pride, and left room for their
ambition to display itself in an emulation among them which should be
most bountiful and ministerial.
In the next place, he acquired the character of firm trust in
Providence. A number of gentlemen came in one day, when they had nothing
in the house. His wife was very anxious, they say, and asked him what
they should do. "Oh, never fear; trust Providence, make a fire in the
oven, and you will have something." Very soon a variety of everything
that was good was sent in, and by one o'clock they had a splendid
dinner.
He had also the reputation of enjoying intimate communication with the
Deity, and of having a great interest in the Court of Heaven by his
prayers.
He always kept his musket in order, and was fond of hunting. On a time,
they say, he was out of provisions. There came along two wild geese. He
takes gun and cries, "If it please God I kill both, I will send the
fattest to the poorest person in this pariah." He shot, and killed both;
ordered them plucked, and then sent the fattest to a poor widow, leaving
the other, which was a very poor one, at home,--to the great
mortification of his lady. But his maxim was, Perform unto the Lord thy
vow.
But the best story I have heard yet was his doctrine in a sermon from
this text: "Lord, what shall we do?" The doctrine was that when a person
or people are in a state of perplexity, and know not what to do, they
ought never to do they know not what. This is applicable to the times.
He brought his people into a remarkable submission and subjection to
their spiritual rulers, which continues to this day. Their present
parson does and says what he pleases, is a great Tory, and as odd as
Moody.