CHAPTER III.

THE DECISION.

“Can ye lead out to distant colonies

The o’erflowings of a people, or your wronged

Brethren, by impious persecution driven,

And arm their breasts with fortitude to try

New regions—climes, though barren, yet beyond

The baneful power of tyrants? These are deeds

For which their hardy labors well prepare

The sinewy arms of Albion’s sons.”

DYER.

Although the Pilgrims resided at Leyden in honor, and at peace with

God and their own consciences, many circumstances conspired to render

them anxious and uneasy. The horizon of the Netherlands grew gloomy

with portents of war. The famous truce between Holland and the

Spaniard drew near its conclusion.[72] The impatient demon of strife

stood knocking at the door. Homesickness gnawed at their hearts.

Dear, cruel England filled their thoughts. The language of the Dutch

had never become pleasantly familiar.[73] Frequently “they saw

poverty coming on them like an armed man.” Many of their little band

were taken from them by death. “Grave mistress Experience having

taught them many things,” some of their “sagest members began both

deeply to apprehend their present dangers and wisely to foresee the

future, and to think of timely remedy.” They inclined to removal,

“not out of any newfangledness or other such like giddy humor, by

which men are oftentimes transported to their great hurt and danger,

but for sundry weighty and solid reasons.”[74]

These have been often recited, and they completely vindicate the

project to remove.

The Pilgrims “saw, and found by experience, the hardness of the place

and country to be such that few in comparison would come to them, and

fewer would bide it out and continue with them; for many that joined

them, and many more who desired to be with them, could not endure

the great labor and hard fare, with other inconveniences which they

underwent and were content to bear. But though they loved the persons

of the exiles, approved their cause, and honored their sufferings,

yet they left them weeping, as Orpah did her mother-in-law Naomi,

and as those Romans did Cato in Utica, who desired to be excused and

borne with, though they could not all be Catos.[75] For many, though

they desired to enjoy the ordinances of God as the Pilgrims did, yet,

alas, chose bondage, with danger of conscience, rather than to endure

these hardships. Yea, some preferred the prisons of England to this

liberty in Holland, with these afflictions. The Pilgrims thought

that if a better and easier place of residence could be had, it would

draw many to them, and take away these discouragements. Yea, their

pastor would often say that many of those who both wrote and preached

against them there would, if they were in a place where they might

have liberty and live comfortably, practise as they did.”[76]

Then again, “they saw that, though the exiles generally bore all

these difficulties very cheerfully and with resolute courage, being

in the best and strength of their years, yet old age began to steal

upon them—and their great and continued labors, with other crosses

and sorrows, hastened it before the time—so it was not only probably

thought, but apparently seen, that within a few years more they

would be in danger to scatter by necessities pressing them, or sink

under their burdens, or both. Therefore, according to the divine

proverb, that ‘a wise man seeth the plague when it cometh, and

hideth himself,’[77] so they, like skilful and tried soldiers, were

fearful to be entrapped and surrounded by their enemies, so as they

should neither be able to fight or fly; so they thought it better to

dislodge betimes to some place of better advantage and less danger,

if any such could be found.”[78]

It was furthermore perceived that, “as necessity was a task-master

over them, so they were forced to be such, not only to their

servants, but in a sort to their dearest children; the which, as it

did not a little wound the tender hearts of many loving fathers and

mothers, so it produced likewise sundry sad and sorrowful effects;

for many of their children, who were of the best disposition and

most gracious inclinations, having learned to bear the yoke in their

youth, and being willing to bear part of their parents’ burden,

were oftentimes so oppressed by their heavy labors, that though

their minds were free and willing, yet their bodies bowed under the

weight, and became decrepit in early youth, the vigor of nature being

consumed in the bud. But that which was more lamentable, and of all

sorrows most heavy to be borne, was, that many of the children, by

these means and the great licentiousness of youth in those countries

and the manifold temptations of the place, were drawn away by evil

example into extravagant and dangerous courses, getting the reins off

their necks, and departing from their parents. Some became soldiers,

others made far voyages by sea, and some walked in paths tending to

dissoluteness and the danger of their souls, to the great grief of

their parents and the dishonor of God. The Pilgrims saw that their

posterity would be in danger to degenerate and be corrupted.”[79]

Still again—“and this was not least”—they were inclined to remove

by the “great hope and inward zeal they had of laying some good

foundation, or at least of making some way thereto, for the

propagation and advancement of the gospel of the kingdom of Christ

in remote parts of the world; yea, though they should be but even

as stepping-stones unto others for the performance of so great a

work.”[80]

These and some other kindred reasons[81] pushed the Pilgrims to

further emigration. The question which each began to ask the other

was, “Whither shall we go?” Soon this query stared all other

considerations out of countenance, and became the all-engrossing

topic of discussion at the hearth-stones and in the chapel of the

exiles.

At this juncture a germ of thought was developed which proved to be

the seed of a mighty empire. All Europe stood a-tip-toe gazing across

the misty and chilling waste of waters towards that new continent

by whose discovery the genius of Columbus had rounded the globe

into perfect symmetry. The glories of the New World flashed in the

brilliant eloquence of Raleigh. Marvellous tales were told of the

fertility of the soil and of the healthful beauty of the skies; while

old sailors, who had gazed with their own eyes upon the legendary

shores, passed from city to city depicting to eager and credulous

crowds the terrors of the wilderness and the wild ferocity of the

Western savages.

Meantime “the career of maritime discovery had been pursued with

daring intrepidity and rewarded with brilliant success. The voyages

of Gosnold, and Smith, and Hudson, the enterprise of Raleigh, and

Delaware, and Gorges, the compilations of Eden, and Willes, and

Hakluyt, had filled the commercial world with wonder. Calvinists

of the French church had already sought, though vainly, to

plant themselves in Brazil, in Carolina, and, with De Monts, in

Acadia;”[82] and now, in 1617, some bold thinker and unshrinking

speaker among the Leyden Pilgrims, perhaps Brewster, perhaps

Bradford, perhaps Robinson himself, proposed to colonize “some of

those vast and unpeopled countries of America which were fruitful and

fit for habitation, but devoid of all civilized inhabitants; where

there were only savage and brutish men, who ranged up and down little

otherwise than as wild beasts.”[83]

At the outset the Pilgrims listened to this proposal, some with

admiration, some with misgiving, some openly aghast. Bradford’s

quaint pages afford us some glimpses of their debates. The doubters

said, “It is a great design, and subject to inconceivable perils; as

besides the casualties of the seas, which none can be freed from, the

length of the voyage is such that the weak bodies of many worn out

with age and travel, as many of us are, can never be able to endure;

and even if they should, the miseries to which we should be exposed

in that land will be too hard for us to bear; ’tis likely that some

or all will effect our ruin. There we shall be liable to famine,

and nakedness, and want of all things. The change of air, diet, and

water, will infect us with sickness; and those who escape these evils

will be in danger of the savages, who are cruel, barbarous, and most

treacherous in their rage, and merciless when they overcome; not

being content only to kill, but delighting to torment men in the most

bloody way, flaying men alive with the shells of fishes, cutting off

the joints by piece-meal, broiling them on coals, and eating collops

of their victims’ flesh while they yet live, and in their very sight.”

As these horrors darkened in their imaginations, the

deeply-interested exiles who thronged the council-chamber shuddered

with affright. Mothers, hearing the shrill war-whoop in advance,

strained their babes yet closer to their breasts. “Surely it could

not be thought but the very hearing of these things must move the

very bowels of men to grate within them, and make the weak to quake

and tremble.”

But the opponents of the project urged still other objections, “and

those neither unreasonable nor improbable.” “It will require,” they

said, “more money than we can furnish to prepare for such a voyage.

Similar schemes have failed;[84] and our experience in removing to

Holland teaches us how hard it is to live in a strange country, even

though it be a rich and civilized commonwealth. What then shall we do

in the frozen wilderness?”

Fear chilled the hearts, doubt paralyzed the nerves of the assembled

exiles. Then the more resolute stood up, and, fixing their eyes on

the sky, exclaimed, “God will protect us; and he points us on. All

great and honorable actions are accompanied with great difficulties,

and must be both undertaken and overcome with answerable courage.

We grant the dangers of this removal to be tremendous, but not

desperate; the difficulties are many, but not invincible; for though

many of them are likely, all are not certain. It may be that sundry

of the things surmised may never happen; others, by provident care

and the use of good means, may be prevented; and all of them, through

the help of God, by fortitude and patience may either be borne or

overcome. True it is that such attempts are not to be undertaken

without good reason; never rashly or lightly, as many have done,

for curiosity or hope of gain. But our condition is not ordinary;

our ends are good and honorable; our calling lawful and urgent;

therefore we may invoke and expect God’s blessing on our proceeding.

Yea, though we should lose our lives in this action, yet may we have

comfort in it, and our endeavor would be honorable. We live here but

as men in exile; and as great miseries may befall us in this place,

for the twelve years of truce are now nigh up, and here is nothing

but beating of drums and preparations for war, the events whereof are

always uncertain. The Spaniard may prove as cruel as the savages of

America, and the famine and pestilence as sore here as there, and our

liberty less to look out for a remedy.”[85]

It was thus that the undaunted apostles of the future pleaded; and

now as always, the policy of active, trustful, and religious courage

overbore the timid pleas of the undecided, the plausible doubts of

the skeptical, and the wailing dissent of the croakers who paused

distrustful of the unknown future and enamoured of the anchored

past. The Pilgrims announced their decision to follow in the wake of

Columbus, and launch boldly across the Atlantic, trusting God.

The Pilgrim fathers of New England · 第 3 / 32 章