But why talk of days so old? Some of you remember when the pillory and

the whipping-post were a part of the public furniture of the law, and

occupied a prominent place in the busiest street in town. Some of you

have seen men and women scourged, naked, and bleeding, in State street;

have seen men judicially branded in the forehead with a hot iron, their

ears clipped off by the sheriff, and held up to teach humanity to the

gaping crowd of idle boys and vulgar men. A magistrate was once brought

into odium in Boston, for humanely giving back to his victim a part of

the ear he had officially shorn off, that the mutilated member might be

restored and made whole. How long is it since men sent their servants to

the "Workhouse," to be beaten "for disobedience," at the discretion of

the master? It is not long since the gallows was a public spectacle here

in the midst of us, and a hanging made a holiday for the rabble of this

city and the neighboring towns; even women came to see the

death-struggle of a fellow-creature, and formed the larger part of the

mob; many of you remember the procession of the condemned man sitting on

his coffin, a procession from the jail to the gallows, from one end of

the city to the other. I remember a public execution some fourteen or

fifteen years ago, and some of the students of theology at Cambridge, of

undoubted soundness in the Unitarian faith, came here to see men kill a

fellow-man!

Who can think of these things, and not see that a great progress has

been made in no long time. But if these things be not proof enough, then

consider what has been done here in this century for the reformation of

juvenile offenders; for the discharged convict; for the blind, the deaf,

and the dumb; for the insane, and now even for the idiot. Think of the

numerous Societies for the widows and orphans; for the seamen; the

Temperance Societies; the Peace Societies; the Prison Discipline

Society; the mighty movement against slavery, which, beginning with a

few heroic men who took the roaring lion of public opinion by the beard,

fearless of his roar, has gone on now, till neither the hardest nor the

softest courage in the State dares openly defend the unholy

institution. A philanthropic female physician delivers gratuitous

lectures on physiology to the poor of this city, to enable them to take

better care of their houses and their bodies; an unpretending man, for

years past, responsible to none but God, has devoted all his time and

his toil to the most despised class of men, and has saved hundreds from

the jail, from crime and ruin at the last. Here are many men and women

not known to the public, but known to the poor, who are daily

ministering to the wants of the body and the mind. Consider all these

things, and who can doubt that a great moral progress has been made? It

is not many years since we had white slaves, and a Scotch boy was

invoiced at fourteen pounds lawful money, in the inventory of an estate

in Boston. In 1630, Governor Dudley complains that some of the founders

of New England, in consequence of a famine, were obliged to set free one

hundred and eighty servants, "to our extreme loss," for they had cost

sixteen or twenty pounds apiece. Seventy years since, negro slavery

prevailed in Massachusetts, and men did not blush at the institution.

Think of the treatment which the leaders of the anti-slavery reform met

with but a few years ago, and you see what a progress has been made![43]

I have extenuated nothing of our condition; I have said the morals of

trade are low morals, and the morals of the press are low; that poverty

is a terrible evil to deal with, and we do not deal with it manfully;

that intemperance is a mournful curse, all the more melancholy when rich

men purposely encourage it; that here is an amount of crime which makes

us shudder to think of; that the voice of human blood cries out of the

ground against us. I disguise nothing of all this; let us confess the

fact, and, ugly as it is, look it fairly in the face. Still, our moral

condition is better than ever before. I know there are men who seem born

with their eyes behind, their hopes all running into memory; some who

wish they had been born long ago: they might as well; sure it is no

fault of theirs that they were not. I hear what they have to tell us.

Still, on the whole, the aspect of things is most decidedly encouraging;

for if so much has been done when men understood the matter less than

we, both cause and cure, how much more can be done for the future?

* * * * *

What can we do to make things better?

I have so recently spoken of poverty that I shall say little now. A

great change will doubtless take place before many years in the

relations between capital and labor; a great change in the spirit of

society. I do not believe the disparity now existing between the wealth

of men has its origin in human nature, and therefore is to last for

ever; I do not believe it is just and right that less than one

twentieth of the people in the nation should own more than ten

twentieths of the property of the nation, unless by their own head, or

hands, or heart, they do actually create and earn that amount. I am not

now blaming any class of men; only stating a fact. There is a profound

conviction in the hearts of many good men, rich as well as poor, that

things are wrong; that there is an ideal right for the actual wrong; but

I think no man yet has risen up with ability to point out for us the

remedy of these evils, and deliver us from what has not badly been named

the Feudalism of Capital. Still, without waiting for the great man to

arise, we can do something with our littleness even now; the truant

children may be snatched from vagrancy, beggary, and ruin; tenements can

be built for the poor, and rented at a reasonable rate. It seems to me

that something more can be done in the way of providing employment for

the poor, or helping them to employment.

In regard to intemperance, I will not say we can end it by direct

efforts. So long as there is misery there will be continued provocation

to that vice, if the means thereof are within reach. I do not believe

there will be much more intemperance amongst well-bred men; among the

poor and wretched it will doubtless long continue. But if we cannot end,

we can diminish it, fast as we will. If rich men did not manufacture,

nor import, nor sell; if they would not rent their buildings for the

sale of intoxicating liquor for improper uses; if they did not by their

example favor the improper use thereof, how long do you think your

police would arrest and punish one thousand drunkards in the year? how

long would twelve hundred rum-shops disgrace your town? Boston is far

more sober, at least in appearance, than other large cities of America,

but it is still the headquarters of intemperance for the State of

Massachusetts. In arresting intemperance, two thirds of the poverty,

three fourths of the crime of this city would end at once, and an amount

of misery and sin which I have not the skill to calculate. Do you say we

cannot diminish intemperance, neither by law, nor by righteous efforts

without law? Oh, fie upon such talk. Come, let us be honest, and say we

do not wish to, not that we cannot. It is plain that in sixteen years we

can build seven great railroads radiating out of Boston, three or four

hundred miles long; that we can conquer the Connecticut and the

Merrimack, and all the lesser streams of New England; can build up

Lowell, and Chicopee, and Lawrence; why, in four years Massachusetts can

invest eight and fifty millions of dollars in railroads and

manufactures, and cannot prevent intemperance; cannot diminish it in

Boston! So there are no able men in this town! I am amazed at such talk,

in such a place, full of such men, surrounded by such trophies of their

work! When the churches preach and men believe that Mammon is not the

only God we are practically to serve; that it is more reputable to keep

men sober, temperate, comfortable, intelligent, and thriving, than it is

to make money out of other men's misery; more Christian, than to sell

and manufacture rum, to rent houses for the making of drunkards and

criminals, then we shall set about this business with the energy that

shows we are in earnest, and by a method which will do the work.

In the matter of crime, something can be done to give efficiency to the

laws. No doubt a thorough change must be made in the idea of criminal

legislation; vengeance must give way to justice, policemen become moral

missionaries, and jails moral hospitals, that discharge no criminal

until he is cured. It will take long to get the idea into men's minds.

You must encounter many a doubt, many a sneer, and expect many a

failure, too. Men who think they "know the world," because they know

that most men are selfish, will not believe you. We must wait for new

facts to convince such men. After the idea is established, it will take

long to organize it fittingly.

Much can be done for juvenile offenders, much for discharged convicts,

even now. We can pull down the gallows, and with it that loathsome

theological idea on which it rests,--the idea of a vindictive God. A

remorseless court, and careful police, can do much to hinder crime;[44]

but they cannot remove the causes thereof.

Last year, a good man, to whom the State was deeply indebted before,

suggested that a moral police should be appointed to look after

offenders; to see why they committed their crime; and if only necessity

compelled them, to seek out for them some employment, and so remove the

causes of crime in detail. The thought was worthy of the age, and of the

man. In the hands of a practical man, this thought might lead to good

results. A beginning has already been made in the right direction, by

establishing the State Reform School for Boys. It will be easy to

improve on this experiment, and conduct prisons for men on the same

scheme of correction and cure, not merely of punishment, in the name of

vengeance. But, after all, so long as poverty, misery, intemperance, and

ignorance continue, no civil police, no moral police, can keep such

causes from creating crime. What keeps you from a course of crime? Your

morality, your religion? Is it? Take away your property, your home, your

friends, the respect of respectable men; take away what you have

received from education, intellectual, moral, and religious, and how

much better would the best of us be than the men who will to-morrow be

huddled off to jail, for crimes committed in a dram-shop to-day? The

circumstances which have kept you temperate, industrious, respectable,

would have made nine tenths of the men in jail as good men as you are.

It is not pleasant to think that there are no amusements which lie level

to the poor, in this country. In Paris, Naples, Rome, Vienna, Berlin,

there are cheap pleasures for poor men, which yet are not low pleasures.

Here there are amusements for the comfortable and the rich, not too

numerous, rather too rare, perhaps, but none for the poor, save only the

vice of drunkenness; that is hideously cheap; the inward temptation

powerful; the outward occasion always at hand. Last summer, some

benevolent men treated the poor children of the city to a day of

sunshine, fresh air, and frolic in the fields. Once a year the children,

gathered together by another benevolent man, have a floral procession in

the streets; some of them have charitably been taught to dance. These

things are beautiful to think of; signs of our progress, from "The good

old times," and omens of a brighter day, when Christianity shall bear

more abundantly flowers and fruit even yet more fair.

The morals of the current literature, of the daily press--you can change

when you will. If there is not in us a demand for low morals, there

will be no supply. The morals of trade, and of politics, the handmaid

thereof, we can make better soon as we wish.

* * * * *

It has been my aim to give suggestions, rather than propose distinct

plans of action; I do not know that I am capable of that. But some of

you are rich men, some able men; many of you, I think, are good men. I

appeal to you to do something to raise the moral character of this town.

All that has been done in fifty years, or a hundred and fifty, seems

very little, while so much still remains to do; only a hint and an

encouragement. You cannot do much, nor I much: that is true. But, after

all, every thing must begin with individual men and women. You can at

least give the example of what a good man ought to be and to do, to-day;

to-morrow you will yourself be the better man for it. So far as that

goes, you will have done something to mend the morals of Boston. You can

tell of actual evils, and tell of your remedy for them; can keep clear

from committing the evils yourself: that also is something.

Here are two things that are certain: We are all brothers, rich and

poor, American and foreign; put here by the same God, for the same end,

and journeying towards the same heaven, owing mutual help. Then, too,

the wise men and good men are the natural guardians of society, and God

will not hold them guiltless, if they leave their brothers to perish. I

know our moral condition is a reproach to us; I will not deny that, nor

try to abate the shame and grief we should feel. When I think of the

poverty and misery in the midst of us, and all the consequences thereof,

I hardly dare feel grateful for the princely fortunes some men have

gathered together. Certainly it is not a Christian society, where such

extremes exist; we are only in the process of conversion; proselytes of

the gate, and not much more. There are noble men in this city, who have

been made philanthropic, by the sight of wrong, of intemperance, and

poverty, and crime. Let mankind honor great conquerors, who only rout

armies, and "plant fresh laurels where they kill;" I honor most the men

who contend against misery, against crime and sin; men that are the

soldiers of humanity, and in a low age, amidst the mean and sordid

spirits of a great trading town, lift up their serene foreheads, and

tell us of the right, the true, first good, first perfect, and first

fair. From such men I hear the prophecy of the better time to come. In

their example I see proofs of the final triumph of good over evil.

Angels are they, who keep the tree of life, not with flaming sword,

repelling men, but, with friendly hand, plucking therefrom, and giving

unto all the leaves, the flower, and the fruit of life, for the healing

of the nations. A single good man, kindling his early flame, wakens the

neighbors with his words of cheer; they, at his lamp, shall light their

torch and household fire, anticipating the beamy warmth of day. Soon it

will be morning, warm and light; we shall be up and a-doing, and the

lighted lamp, which seemed at first too much for eyes to bear, will look

ridiculous, and cast no shadow in the noonday sun. A hundred years

hence, men will stand here as I do now, and speak of the evils of these

times as things past and gone, and wonder that able men could ever be

appalled by our difficulties, and think them not to be surpassed. Still,

all depends on the faithfulness of men--your faithfulness and mine.

The last election has shown us what resolute men can do on a trifling

occasion, if they will. You know the efforts of the three parties--what

meetings they held, what money they raised, what talent was employed,

what speeches made, what ideas set forth: not a town was left

unattempted; scarce a man who had wit to throw a vote, but his vote was

solicited. You see the revolution which was wrought by that vigorous

style of work. When such men set about reforming the evils of society,

with such a determined soul, what evil can stand against mankind? We can

leave nothing to the next generation worth so much as ideas of truth,

justice, and religion, organized into fitting institutions; such we can

leave, and, if true men, such we shall.

FOOTNOTES:

[36] Rev. John Pierpont

[37] This statement was made in 1849; subsequent events have shown that

I was mistaken. It is now thought respectable and patriotic not only to

engage in the slave-trade, but to kidnap men and women in Boston. Most

of the prominent newspapers, and several of the most prominent clergy,

defend the kidnapping. Attempts have repeatedly been made to kidnap my

own parishioners. Kidnapping is not even a matter of church discipline

in Boston in 1851.

[38] The conduct of public magistrates who are paid for serving the

people, is not what it should be in respect to temperance. The city

authorities allow the laws touching the sale of the great instrument of

demoralization to be violated continually. There is no serious effort

made to enforce these laws. Nor is this all: the shameless conduct of

conspicuous men at the supper given in this city after the funeral of

John Quincy Adams, and the debauchery on that occasion, are well known

and will long be remembered.

At the next festival (in September, 1851), it is notorious, that the

city authorities, at the expense of the citizens, provided a large

quantity of intoxicating drink for the entertainment of our guests

during the excursion in the harbor. It is also a matter of great

notoriety, that many were drunk on that occasion. I need hardly add,

that on board one of the crowded steamboats, three cheers were given for

the "Fugitive Slave Law," by men who it is hoped will at length become

sober enough to "forget" it. When the magistrates of Boston do such

deeds, and are not even officially friends of temperance, what shall we

expect of the poor and the ignorant and the miserable? "Cain, where is

thy Brother?" may be asked here and now as well as in the Bible story.

[39] The statistics of intemperance are instructive and surprising. Of

the one thousand two hundred houses in Boston where intoxicating drink

is retailed to be drunken on the premises, suppose that two hundred are

too insignificant to be noticed, or else are large hotels to be

considered presently; then there are one thousand common retail

groggeries. Suppose they are in operation three hundred and thirteen

days in the year, twelve hours each day; that they sell one glass in a

little less than ten minutes, or one hundred glasses in the day, and

that five cents is the price of a glass. Then each groggery receives $5

a day, or $1,565 (313 x 5) in a year, and the one thousand groggeries

receive $1,565,000. Let us suppose that each sells drink for really

useful purposes to the amount of $65 per annum, or all to the amount of

$65,000; there still remains the sum of $1,500,000 spent for

intemperance in these one thousand groggeries. This is about twice the

sum raised by taxation for the public education of all the children in

the State of Massachusetts! But this calculation does not equal the cost

of intemperance in these places; the receipts of these retail houses

cannot be less than $2,000 per annum, or in the aggregate, $2,000,000.

This sum in two years would pay for the new Aqueduct. Suppose the amount

paid for the needless, nay, for the injurious use of intoxicating drink

in private families, in boarding houses and hotels, is equal to the

smallest sum above named ($1,500,000), then it appears that the city of

Boston spends ($1,500,000 + $1,500,000 =) $3,000,000 annually for an

article that does no good to any but harm to all, and brings ruin on

thousands each year. But if a school-house or a school costs a little

money, a complaint is soon made.

[40] It must be remembered that this was written, not in 1851, but in

1849.

[41] In 1679, "The Reforming Synod," assembled at Boston, thus

complained of intemperance, amongst other sins of the times: "That

heathenish and idolatrous practice of health-drinking is too frequent.

That shameful iniquity of sinful drinking is become too general a

provocation. Days of training and other public solemnities have been

abused in this respect: and not only English but Indians have been

debauched by those that call themselves Christians.... This is a crying

sin, and the more aggravated in that the first planters of this colony

did ... come into this land with a design to convert the heathen unto

Christ, but if instead of that they be taught wickedness ... the Lord

may well punish by them.... There are more temptations and occasions

unto that sin publicly allowed of, than any necessity doth require. The

proper end of taverns, &c., being for the entertainment of strangers ...

a far less number would suffice," etc.

Cotton Mather says of intemperance in his time: "To see ... a drunken

man become a drowned man, is to see but a most retaliating hand of God.

Why we have seen this very thing more than threescore times in our land.

And I remember the drowning of one drunkard, so oddly circumstanced; it

was in the hold of a vessel that lay full of water near the shore. We

have seen it so often, that I am amazed at you, O ye drunkards of New

England; I am amazed that you can harden your hearts in your sin,

without expecting to be destroyed suddenly and without remedy. Yea, and

we have seen the devil that has possessed the drunkard, throwing him

into fire, and then kept shrieking Fire! Fire! till they have gone down

to the fire that never shall be quenched. Yea, more than one or two

drunken women in this very town, have, while in their drink, fallen into

the fire, and so they have tragically gone roaring out of one fire into

another. O ye daughters of Belial, hear and fear and do wickedly no

more."

The history of the first barrel of rum which was brought to Plymouth has

been carefully traced out to a considerable extent. Nearly forty of the

"Pilgrims" or their descendants were publicly punished for the

drunkenness it occasioned.

[42] Over eight hundred in 1851.

[43] This statement appears somewhat exaggerated in 1851.

[44] In 1847, the amount of goods stolen in Boston, and reported to the

police, beyond what was received, was more than $37,000; in 1848, less

than $11,000. In 1849, the police were twice as numerous as in the

former year, and organized and directed with new and remarkable skill.

APPENDIX

NOTE TO p. 62.

SOME ACCOUNT OF THE INSTALLATION OF MR. PARKER.

LETTER OF THE COMMITTEE TO MR. PARKER.

BOSTON, November 28, 1845.

DEAR SIR:--

Among your friends and congregation at the Melodeon, a Society has been

organized according to law; and we have been instructed, as the Standing

Committee, to invite you to become its Minister.

It gives us great pleasure to be the means to forward, in this small

degree, the end proposed, and we cordially extend you the invitation,

with the sincere hope that it will meet a favorable answer.

We are, truly and respectfully,

Your friends,

MARK HEALEY,

JOHN FLINT,

LEVI B. MERIAM,

AMOS COOLIDGE,

JOHN G. KING,

SIDNEY HOMER,

HENRY SMITH,

GEO. W. ROBINSON,

C. M. ELLIS.

TO THE REV. THEODORE PARKER,

_West Roxbury, Mass_.

MR. PARKER'S REPLY.

TO MARK HEALEY, JOHN FLINT, LEVI B. MERIAM, AMOS COOLIDGE,

JOHN G. KING, SIDNEY HOMER, HENRY SMITH, GEORGE W. ROBINSON,

AND C. M. ELLIS, ESQUIRES.

DEAR FRIENDS:--

When I received your communication of the 28th ult. I did not hesitate

in my decision, but I have delayed giving you a formal reply, in order

that I might confer with my friends in this place, whom it becomes my

painful duty to leave. I accept your invitation; but wish it to be

provided that our connection may at any time be dissolved, by either

party giving notice to the other of a desire to that effect, six months

before such a separation is to take place.

It is now nearly a year since I began to preach at the Melodeon. I came

at the request of some of you; but I did not anticipate the present

result. Far from it. I thought but few would come and listen to what was

so widely denounced. But I took counsel of my hopes and not of my fears.

It seems to me now that, if we are faithful to our duty, we shall in a

few years build up a society which shall be not only a joy to our own

hearts, but a blessing also to others, now strangers and perhaps hostile

to us. I feel that we have begun a good work. With earnest desires for

the success of our common enterprise, and a willingness to labor for the

advancement of real Christianity, I am,

Faithfully, your friend,

THEODORE PARKER.

_West Roxbury, 12th Dec., 1845._

* * * * *

On Sunday, January 4, 1846, REV. THEODORE PARKER was installed as Pastor

of the Twenty-eighth Congregational Society in Boston. The exercises on

the occasion were as follows:--

INTRODUCTORY HYMN.

PRAYER.

VOLUNTARY ON THE ORGAN.

The Chairman of the Standing Committee then addressed the Congregation

as follows:--

By the instructions of the Society, the Committee have made an

arrangement with Mr. Parker, by which the services of this Society,

under its new organization, should commence with the new year; and this

being our first meeting, it has been set apart for such introductory

services as may seem fitting for our position and prospects.

The circumstances under which this Society has been formed, and its

progress hitherto, are familiar to most of those present. It first began

from certain influences which seemed hostile to the cause of religious

freedom. It was the opinion of many of those now present, that a

minister of the Gospel, truly worthy of that name, was proscribed on

account of his opinions, branded as a heretic, and shut out from the

pulpits of this city.

At a meeting of gentlemen held January 22, 1845, the following

Resolution was passed:--

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