We are aware that one to whose judgment we have usually deferred has

said that had the intelligence been early it would have been more

certain. But every student of history knows that _late_ intelligence is

often more reliable and authentic than _early_; and if it be asked from

what source did Morton obtain his information, we can only suggest that,

up to 1664, New Netherlands remained under the dominion of the Dutch,

and the history of that colony was in a great measure secret to the

English. But several of the prominent settlers of Plymouth had ere this

removed to Manhattan--as Isaac Allerton and Thomas Willet--and after the

reduction of the country and its subjection to England, from these

persons the _late_ and _certain_ intelligence may have been received, or

from access to documents which were before kept private.

The harbor in which the Mayflower now lay is worthy of a passing glance.

It is described by Major Grahame as "one of the finest harbors for ships

of war on the whole Atlantic coast. The width and freedom from

obstructions of every kind, at its entrance, and the extent of sea-room

upon the land side, make it accessible to vessels of the largest class

in almost all winds. This advantage, its capacity, depth of water,

excellent anchorage, and the complete shelter it affords from all winds

render it one of the most valuable harbors upon our coast, whether

considered in a commercial or a military point of view."

If to the advantages here enumerated could have been added a fertile

soil, and an extensive back country, suitably furnished with timber and

fuel, the spot to which this gallant bark was led would have proved as

eligible a site for a flourishing colony as could possibly have been

desired. But these advantages were wanting; and though our fathers

considered it an "extraordinary blessing of God" in directing their

course for these parts, which they were at first inclined to consider

"one of the most pleasant, most healthful, and most fruitful parts of

the world," longer acquaintance and better information abundantly

satisfied them of the insuperable obstacles to agriculture and commerce.

The Pilgrims were now ready to pass to the shore. But before taking this

step, as the spot where they lay was without the bounds of their patent,

and as signs of insubordination had appeared among their servants, an

association was deemed necessary, and an agreement to "combine in one

body and to submit to such government and governors as should by common

consent" be selected and chosen. Accordingly, a compact was prepared,

and signed before landing by all the males of the company who were of

age; and this instrument was the constitution of the colony for several

years. It was as follows:

"In the name of God, Amen. We whose names are underwritten, the loyal

subjects of our dread sovereign lord, King James, by the grace of God,

of Great Britain, France, and Ireland, King, defender of the faith,

etc., having undertaken, for the glory of God, and the advancement of

the Christian faith, and honor of our King and country, a voyage to

plant the first colony in the northern parts of Virginia, do, by these

presents, solemnly and mutually, in the presence of God and one another,

covenant and combine ourselves together unto a civil body politic, for

our better ordering and preservation, and furtherance of the ends

aforesaid, and by virtue hereof to enact, constitute, and frame such

just and equal laws, ordinances, acts, constitutions, and offices, from

time to time, as shall be thought most meet and convenient for the

general good of the colony; unto which we promise all due submission and

obedience. In witness whereof we have hereunder subscribed our names, at

Cape Cod, the 11th of November, in the year of the reign of our

sovereign lord, King James of England, France, and Ireland, the 18th,

and of Scotland the 54th, A.D. 1620."

While on the one hand much eloquence has been expended in expatiating on

this compact, as if in the cabin of the Mayflower had consciously and

for the first time been discovered in an age of Cimmerian darkness the

true principles of republicanism and equality; on the other hand, it has

been asserted that the Pilgrims were "actuated by the most daring

ambition," and that even at this early period they designed to erect a

government absolutely independent of the mother-country. But the truth

seems to be that, although the form of government adopted by the

emigrants is republican in its character, and remarkably liberal, at the

same time its founders acknowledged suitable allegiance to England, and

regarded themselves as connected with the land of their nativity by

political and social ties, both endearing and enduring. Left to

themselves in a wilderness land, apart from all foreign aid, and thrown

upon their own resources, with none to help or advise, they adopted that

course which commended itself to their calm judgment as the simplest and

best; and if, under such circumstances, their compact was democratic, it

seems chiefly to intimate that self-government is naturally attractive

to the mind, and is spontaneously resorted to in emergencies like the

present. It is as unwise to flatter our ancestors by ascribing to them

motives different from those which they themselves professed as it is

unjust to prefer charges against them to which they are not obnoxious.

They were honest, sincere, and God-fearing men; humble in their

circumstances, and guided by their own judgment; but endowed with no

singular prophetic vision, and claiming no preternatural political

sagacity. They could penetrate the future no farther than to confide in

the justice of God and the power of truth. The latter they knew must

ultimately prevail, for the former was pledged to secure its triumph.

The first care of the exiles, having established their provisional

government, was to provide for their shelter. Cautiously, therefore, for

fear of harm, on the same day that the compact was signed, fifteen or

sixteen men, well armed, were set ashore at Long Point to explore the

country; and returning at night with a boat-load of juniper, which

delighted them with its fragrance, they reported that they had found

"neither persons nor habitations."

The stillness of the Sabbath was consecrated to worship--the first,

probably, ever observed by Christians in Massachusetts--and on the

morrow the shallop was drawn to the beach for repairs, and for the first

time the whole company landed for refreshment. As the fitting of the

shallop promised to be a difficult task, the adventurous, impatient of

delay, were eager to prosecute a journey by land for discovery. "The

willingness of the persons was liked, but the thing itself, in regard of

the danger, was rather permitted than approved." Consent, however, was

obtained, and sixteen were detailed under Captain Standish, their

military leader, who had served in the armies both of Elizabeth and

James; and William Bradford, Stephen Hopkins, and Edward Tilly, being

joined with him as "advisers and counsellors," the party debarked at

Stevens' Point, at the western extremity of the harbor, and marching in

single file, at the distance of about a mile, five savages were espied,

who, at their approach, hastily fled.

Compassing the head of East Harbor Creek the next day, and reaching a

deep valley, fed with numerous springs, the exhausted travellers, whose

provisions consisted but of "biscuit and Holland cheese, with a little

bottle of aqua vitæ," eagerly halted by one of these springs, and "drank

their first draught of New England water with as much delight as ever

they drunk drink in all their lives." Passing thence to the shore, and

kindling a beacon-fire, they proceeded to another valley, in Truro, in

which was a pond, "a musket-shot broad and twice as long," near which

the Indians had planted corn. Further on graves were discovered; and at

another spot the ruins of a house, and heaps of sand filled with corn

stored in baskets. With hesitancy--so scrupulous were they of wilfully

wronging the natives--an old kettle, a waif from the ruins, was filled

with this corn, for which the next summer the owners were remunerated.

In the vicinity of the Pamet were the ruins of a fort, or palisade; and

encamping for the night near the pond in Truro, on the following day

they returned to the ship "weary and welcome" and their "Eschol" was

added for their diminishing stores.

Ten days after, another expedition was fitted out, in which twenty-five

of the colonists and nine or ten of the sailors, with Jones at their

head, were engaged; and visiting the mouth of the Pamet, called by them

"Cold Harbor," and obtaining fresh supplies from the aboriginal

granaries, after a brief absence, in which a few unimportant discoveries

were made, the party returned. Here a discussion ensued. Should they

settle at Cold Harbor or seek a more eligible site? In favor of the

former it was urged that the harbor was suitable for boats, if not for

ships; the corn land was good; it was convenient to their

fishing-grounds; the location was healthy; winter was approaching;

travelling was dangerous; their provisions were wasting; and the captain

of the Mayflower was anxious to return. On the other hand, it was

replied that a better place might be found; it would be a hinderance to

move a second time; good spring-water was wanting; and lastly, at

Agawam, now Ipswich, twenty leagues to the north, was an excellent

harbor, better ground, and better fishing. Robert Coppin, their pilot,

likewise informed them of "a great and navigable river and good harbour

in the other headland of the bay, almost right over against Cape Cod,"

which he had formerly visited, and which was called "Thievish Harbor."

A third expedition, therefore, was agreed upon; and though the weather

was unfavorable, and some difficulty was experienced in clearing

Billingsgate Point, they reached the weather shore, and there "had

better sailing." Yet bitter was the cold, and the spray, as it froze on

them, gave them the appearance of being encased in glittering mail. At

night their rendezvous was near Great Meadow Creek; and early in the

morning, after an encounter with the Indians, in which no one was

wounded, their journey was resumed, their destination being the harbor

which Coppin had described to them, and which he assured them could be

reached in a few hours' sailing. Through rain and snow they steered

their course; but by the middle of the afternoon a fearful storm raged;

the hinges of their rudder were broken; the mast was split, the sail was

rent, and the inmates of the shallop were in imminent peril; yet, by

God's mercy, they survived the first shock, and, favored by a flood

tide, steered into the harbor. A glance satisfied the pilot that it was

not the place he sought; and in an agony of despair he exclaimed: "Lord

be merciful to us! My eyes never saw this place before!" In his frenzy

he would have run the boat ashore among the breakers; but an intrepid

seaman resolutely shouted, "About with her, or we are lost!" And

instantly obeying, with hard rowing, dark as it was, with the wind

howling fiercely, and the rain dashing furiously, they shot under the

lee of an island and moored until morning.

The next day the island was explored--now known as Clarke's Island--and

the clothing of the adventurers was carefully dried; but, excusable as

it might have been under the circumstances in which they were placed to

have immediately resumed their researches, the Sabbath was devoutly and

sacredly observed.

On Monday, December 11th, O. S., a landing was effected upon

Forefather's Rock. The site of this stone was preserved by tradition,

and a venerable contemporary of several of the Pilgrims, whose head was

silvered with the frost of ninety-five winters, settled the question of

its identity in 1741. Borne in his arm-chair by a grateful populace,

Elder Faunce took his last look at the spot so endeared to his memory,

and, bedewing it with tears, he bade it farewell. In 1774 this precious

boulder, as if seized with the spirit of that bustling age, was raised

from its bed to be consecrated to Liberty, and in the act of its

elevation it split in twain--an occurrence regarded by many as ominous

of the separation of the colonies from England, and the lower part being

left in the spot where it still lies, the upper part, weighing several

tons, was conveyed, amid the heartiest rejoicings, to Liberty-pole

Square, and adorned with a flag bearing the imperishable motto, "Liberty

or Death." On July 4, 1834, the natal day of the freedom of the

colonies, this part of the rock was removed to the ground in front of

Pilgrim Hall, and there it rests, encircled with a railing, ornamented

with heraldic wreaths, bearing the names of the forty-one signers of the

compact in the Mayflower. Fragments of this rock are relics in the

cabinets of hundreds of our citizens, and are sought with avidity even

by strangers as memorials of a pilgrimage to the birthplace of New

England.

On the day of landing the harbor was sounded and the land explored; and,

the place inviting settlement, the adventurers returned with tidings of

their success; the Mayflower weighed anchor to proceed to the spot; and

ere another Sabbath dawned she was safely moored in the desired haven.

Monday and Tuesday were spent in exploring tours; and on Wednesday, the

20th, the settlement at Plymouth was commenced--twenty persons remaining

ashore for the night. On the following Saturday the first timber was

felled; on Monday their storehouse was commenced; on Thursday

preparations were made for the erection of a fort; and allotments of

land were made to the families; and on the following Sunday religious

worship was performed for the first time in their storehouse.

For a month the colonists were busily employed. The distance of the

vessel--which lay more than a mile from the shore--was a great

hinderance to their work; frequent storms interrupted their operations;

and by accident their storehouse was destroyed by fire, and their

hospital narrowly escaped destruction. The houses were arranged in two

rows, on Leyden street, each man building his own. The storehouse was

twenty feet square; the size of the private dwellings we have no means

of determining. All were constructed of logs, with the interstices

filled with sticks and clay; the roofs were covered with thatch; the

chimneys were of fragments of wood, plastered with clay; and oiled paper

served as a substitute for glass for the inlet of light.

The whole of this first winter was a period of unprecedented hardship

and suffering. Mild as was the weather, it was far more severe than that

of the land of their birth; and the disease contracted on shipboard,

aggravated by colds caught in their wanderings in quest of a home,

caused a great and distressing mortality to prevail. In December six

died; in January, eight; in February, seventeen; and in March, thirteen;

a total of forty-four in four months--of whom twenty-one were signers of

the compact. It is remarkable that the leaders of the colony were

spared. The survivors were unwearied in their attentions to their

companions; but affection could not avert the arrows of the Destroyer.

The first burial-place was on Cole's Hill; and as an affecting proof of

the miserable condition of the sufferers it is said that, knowing they

were surrounded by warlike savages, and fearing their losses might be

discovered and advantage be taken of their weakness to attack and

exterminate them, the sad mounds formed by rude coffins hidden beneath

the earth were carefully levelled and sowed with grain!

However rapidly we have sketched, in the preceding pages, the history of

the Pilgrims from their settlement in Holland to their removal to

America, no one can fail to have been deeply impressed with the

inspiring lessons which that history teaches. As has been well said:

"Their banishment to Holland was fortunate; the decline of their little

company in the strange land was fortunate; the difficulties which they

experienced in getting the royal consent to banish themselves to this

wilderness was fortunate; all the tears and heartbreakings of that

ever-memorable parting at Delfthaven had the happiest influence on the

rising destinies of New England. All this purified the rank of the

settlers. These rough touches of fortune brushed off the light,

uncertain, selfish spirits. They made it a grave, solemn, self-denying

expedition, and required of those who were engaged in it to be so too."

Touching also is the story of the "long, cold, dreary autumnal passage"

in that "one solitary, adventurous vessel, the Mayflower, of a forlorn

hope, freighted with the prospects of a future state and bound across

the unknown sea." We behold it "pursuing with a thousand misgivings the

uncertain, the tedious voyage. Suns rise and set, and winter surprises

them on the deep, but brings them not the sight of the wished-for shore.

The awful voice of the storm howls through the rigging. The laboring

masts seem straining from their base; the dismal sound of the pumps is

heard; the ship leaps, as it were, madly from billow to billow; the

ocean breaks, and settles with engulfing floods over the floating deck,

and beats with deadening, shivering weight against the staggering

vessel."

Escaped from these perils, after a passage of sixty-six days, and

subsequent journeyings until the middle of December, they land on the

ice-clad rocks of Plymouth, worn out with suffering, weak and weary from

the fatigues of the voyage, poorly armed, scantily provisioned,

surrounded by barbarians, without prospect of human succor, without the

help or favor of their king, with a useless patent, without assurance of

liberty in religion, without shelter, and without means!

Yet resolute men are there: Carver, Bradford, Brewster, Standish,

Winslow, Alden, Warren, Hopkins, and others. Female fortitude and

resignation are there. Wives and mothers, with dauntless courage and

unexampled heroism, have braved all these dangers, shared all these

trials, borne all these sorrows, submitted to all these privations. And

there, too, is "chilled and shivering childhood, houseless but for a

mother's arms, couchless but for a mother's breast."

But these sepulchres of the dead!--where lie Turner, Chilton, Crackston,

Fletcher, Goodman, Mullins, White, Rogers, Priest, Williams, and their

companions--these touch the tenderest and holiest chords. Husbands and

wives, parents and children, have finished their pilgrimage, and mingled

their dust with the dust of New England. Hushed as the unbreathing air,

when not a leaf stirs in the mighty forest, was the scene at those

graves where the noble and true were buried in peace. "Deeply as they

sorrowed at parting with those, doubly endeared to them by the

remembrance of what they had suffered together, and by the fellowship of

kindred griefs, they committed them to the earth calmly, but with hope."

No sculptured marble, no enduring monument, no honorable inscription,

marks the spot where they were laid. Is it surprising that local

attachments soon sprung up in the breasts of the survivors, endearing

them to the place of refuge and their sorrows? They had come "hither

from a land to which they were never to return. Hither they had brought,

and here they were to fix, their hopes and their affections."

Consecrated by persecutions in their native land, by an exile in Holland

of hardship and toil, by the perils of the ocean voyage and its terrible

storms, by their sufferings and wanderings in quest of a home, and by

the heartrending trials of the first lonely winter--by all these was

their new home consecrated and hallowed in their inmost thoughts; and

forward to the future they looked with confidence in God and a cheerful

reliance upon that beneficent Providence which had enabled them with

patience to submit to his chastenings, and, Phoenix-like, to rise from

the ashes of the dead and from the depths of the bitterest affliction

and distress, with invincible courage, determined to subdue the

wilderness before them, and to "fill this region of the great continent,

which stretches almost from pole to pole," with freedom and

intelligence, the arts and the sciences, flourishing villages, temples

of worship, and the numerous blessings of civilized life, baptized in

the fountain of the Gospel of Christ.

BIRTH OF MODERN SCIENTIFIC METHODS

BACON AND DESCARTES

A.D. 1620

GEORGE HENRY LEWES

Three centuries of modern thought have not sufficed to settle

the dispute as to its own origin. Many Englishmen still claim

insistently that Lord Bacon, in his _Advancement of Learning_,

and still more positively in his later and greater work, the

_Novum Organum_ (1620) started modern scientific method.

Present scientists themselves seem inclined to smile somewhat

scornfully at the laurels thus placed on Bacon's brow. And as

for Frenchmen, they simply refuse to hear the pompous Lord

Chancellor mentioned at all. To them René Descartes is the only

genuine originator of all modern philosophy. The publication of

his _Discourse on Method_ (1637) marks for them the epoch which

separates two worlds of thought.

Fortunately, George Henry Lewes, himself a celebrated English

critic and the author of a system of philosophy, presents us

the two rivals side by side, seeking to explain and balance the

honors due to each.

It is very certain that somewhere about this period did

originate that mathematical exactitude of method in both

thought and experiment which has produced modern science. And

modern science has, in its brief but marvellous career of three

centuries, altered the face of the globe. It has taught man

more than ancient science did in all the preceding centuries;

it has touched even our deepest faiths.

Whether its success has been due mainly to the abstract

reasoners like Copernicus and the philosophers, or to the

practical experimenters like Galileo and Harvey, is perhaps

scarcely a practical question.

In the evolution of philosophy, as in the evolution of an organism, it

is impossible to fix with any precision a period of origin, because

every beginning is also a termination, and presumes the results of a

whole series of preceding evolutions. As Mr. Spedding felicitously says,

our philosophy "was born about Bacon's time, and Bacon's name, as the

brightest which presided at the time of its birth, has been inscribed

upon it:

"Hesperus that led

The starry host rode brightest."

"Not that Hesperus did actually lead the other stars; he and they were

moving under a common force, and they would have moved just as fast if

he had been away; but because he shone brightest, he looked as if he led

them." Bacon and Descartes are generally recognized as the "Fathers of

Modern Philosophy," though they themselves were carried along by the

rapidly swelling current of their age, then decisively setting in the

direction of science. It is their glory to have seen visions of the

coming greatness, to have expressed in terms of splendid power the

thoughts which were dimly stirring the age, and to have sanctioned the

new movement by their authoritative genius. The destruction of

scholasticism was complete. They came to direct the construction of a

grander temple.

There are in these two thinkers certain marked features of resemblance,

and others equally marked of difference. We see their differences most

strikingly in their descendants. From Bacon lineally descended Hobbes,

Locke, Diderot, D'Alembert, Condillac, Cabanis, and our Scotch school.

From Descartes descended Spinoza, Malebranche, Leibnitz, Fichte,

Schelling, and Hegel. The inductive method predominated in one school,

the deductive in the other. These differences we shall recognize more

fully later on; at present we may fix our minds on the two great points

of resemblance: 1st, the decisive separation of philosophy from

theology; 2d, the promulgation of a new method.

The Great Events by Famous Historians, Volume 11 · 第 11 / 37 段