FAREWELL.
“Like Israel’s host to exile driven,
Across the flood the Pilgrims fled;
Their hands bore up the ark of heaven,
And Heaven their trusting footsteps led,
Till on these savage shores they trod,
And won the wilderness for God.”
PIERPONT.
Having decided to settle in America, the Pilgrims, “after humble
prayers unto God for his direction and assistance,” held another
general conference, and in this they discussed the location of their
proposed colony. Some were ardent for Guiana,[86] whose tropical
climate and immeasurable mineral wealth Raleigh had painted in
dazzling colors, and whose fertility was such that it was only
necessary to “tickle it with a hoe, and it would laugh with a
harvest.” The Spaniard was already there. It has been well said
that the golden dreams which deluded the first European settlers
of America were akin, alike in object and results, to the old
alchymists’ search after the philosopher’s stone. The painful
alchymist lost not only the gold he sought, but the wealth of
knowledge and of substantial commercial treasure which the researches
of modern chemistry have disclosed; and so the Spanish colonists
slighted the abounding wealth of a genial climate and a fertile
soil, while chasing the illusive phantom of “a land of gold.”[87]
Yet, despite the apparent opening in Guiana, the Pilgrims would
not go thither, partly because the pretensions of England to the
soil were wavering, but chiefly because a horde of intolerant
and ubiquitous Jesuits had already planted themselves in that
vicinity.[88]
“Upon their talk of removing, sundry of the Dutch would have had them
go under them, and made them large offers;” but “the Pilgrims were
attached to their nationality as Englishmen, and to the language
of their fatherland. A deep-seated love of country led them to the
generous purpose of recovering the protection of England by enlarging
her dominions. They were ‘restless’ with the desire to live once more
under the government of their native land.”[89]
This feeling led them to reject the proposal of the Holland
merchants; and, since they had also given up the idea of colonizing
Guiana, they determined to essay a settlement in “the most northern
parts of Virginia,” hoping under the provincial government “to live
in a distinct body by themselves,” at peace with God and man.[90]
There were in 1617 two organized English companies which had been
chartered by James I. to colonize America, and empowered to effect
regular and permanent settlements, extending one hundred miles
inland. The headquarters of one of these was in London, of the
other in Plymouth.[91] The Leyden Pilgrims were impelled to sail
under the auspices of one of these merchant-companies by a double
consideration—a lack of means to effect an independent settlement,
and a desire to emigrate in such shape that they might live under
English protection.[92] Hence on selecting Virginia as the site of
their intended settlement, the exiles at once despatched two of their
number to England, at the charge of the rest,[93] to negotiate with
the Virginia company.[94] They “found God going along with them;” and
through the influence of “Sir Edwin Sandys, a religious gentleman
then living,” they might at once have gained a patent; but the
careful envoys desired first to consult “the multitude” at Leyden.[95]
In their interview with the Leyden merchants, the envoys had
expressly stipulated for freedom of religious worship.[96] On their
return to Holland they told the Leyden congregation that they
“found the Virginia company very desirous to have them go out under
their auspices, and willing to grant them a patent, with as ample
privileges as they could bestow; while some of their chiefs did not
doubt their ability to obtain a guaranty of toleration for them from
the king.”[97]
The Pilgrim agents carried back with them a friendly and sympathizing
letter from Sir Edwin Sandys;[98] and to this a formal answer was
returned. “We verily believe,” wrote Robinson and Brewster, “that the
Lord is with us, unto whom and whose service we have given ourselves
in many trials; and that he will graciously prosper our endeavors
according to the simplicity of our hearts therein. We are well
weaned from the delicate milk of our mother-country, and inured to
the difficulties of a strange and hard land, which yet, in a great
part, we have by patience overcome. Our people are, for the body of
them, industrious and frugal, we think we may say, as any company of
people in the world. We are knit together as a body in a most strict
and sacred bond and covenant of the Lord, of the violation whereof
we make great conscience, and by virtue whereof we do hold ourselves
strictly tied to all care of each other’s good, and of the whole. It
is not with us as with other men, whom small things can discourage,
or small discontentments cause to wish themselves at home again. We
know our entertainment in England, and in Holland; we shall much
prejudice both our arts and means by removal; but once gone, we
should not be won to return by any hope to recover even our present
helps and comforts.”[99]
While these negotiations were pending the Virginia company found
much greater difficulty than they had apprehended in winning from
the silly and pedantic king an assent to the tolerant clauses of the
Pilgrims’ patent; “and though many means were used to bring it about,
it could not be effected.”[100] When the Pilgrims asked that liberty
of worship might be confirmed under the king’s broad seal, they were
asked two questions: “How intend ye to gain a livelihood in the new
country?” The reply was, “By fishing, at first.” “Who shall make your
ministers?” was the next query. The Pilgrims answered, “The power of
making them is in the church;” and this spoiled all. To enlarge the
dimensions of England James I. esteemed “a good and honest motive;
and fishing was an honest trade, the apostles’ own calling,” yet he
referred their suit to the decision of the prelates of Canterbury and
London.[101]
The exiles were advised not to carry their suit before the bishops,
but to rely upon events and the disposition which his majesty had
shown to connive at their enterprise under “a formal promise of
neglect.”[102] Besides, it was considered that if James had confirmed
their titles, nothing could bind him. “If afterwards there should be
a purpose to wrong us,” said they, “though we had a seal as broad
as the house floor, it would not serve the turn; for there would be
means enough found to recall or reverse it.”[103] So they determined
in this, as in other things, to rest on God’s providence.
New agents were at once despatched to England to urge forward the
lagging preparations. But dissensions in the Virginia company
“ate out the heart of action.” At last, in 1619, a patent was
granted,[104] and only “one more negotiation remained to be
completed. The Pilgrims were not possessed of sufficient capital
for the execution of their scheme. The confidence in wealth to be
derived from fisheries had made American expeditions a subject of
consideration with English merchants; and the agents from Leyden
were able to form a partnership between their friends and the men of
business in London. A company called the ‘Merchant-Adventurers’ was
formed. The services of each emigrant were rated as a capital of ten
pounds, and belonged to the company; all profits were to be reserved
till the end of seven years, when the whole amount, and all houses,
lands, gardens, and fields, were to be divided among the shareholders
according to their respective interests. A London merchant who risked
one hundred pounds would receive for his money tenfold more than
the penniless laborer for his entire services. This arrangement
threatened a seven years’ check to the pecuniary prosperity of the
colony; yet as it did not interfere with civil rights or religion, it
did not intimidate the resolved.”[105]
It is peculiarly interesting to us of this generation to notice how
prominent a trait republicanism was in the intellectual character
of the Pilgrims. It crops out constantly. Nothing must be done
without the assent of “the multitude.” When any important matter was
broached, the pastor did not presume to dictate, nor did the elders
assume to control; the decision rested with the majority vote of the
community. Their council was the ideal model of a pure democracy.
So now, when their envoys returned, “they made a public recital,”
and the Pilgrims “had a solemn meeting and a day of humiliation to
seek the Lord for his direction.”[106] Robinson preached, “teaching
many things very aptly and befitting their present occasion and
condition, strengthening them against their fears and perplexities,
and encouraging them in their resolutions.”[107]
This fine incident was at once an illustration and a prophecy; it
illustrated the rugged, self-centred, yet devout independence of the
exiles, and it prophesied from this the twining laurels of success.
The Pilgrims were invincible; and the secret of their strength was
religious democracy. If in their right hand they held an open Bible,
signifying faith and hope, in their left they clutched tenaciously
the fundamental but still crude principles of organized liberty—the
now open secret of later Saxon progress.
At length, in July, 1620, “after much travail and debate, all things
were got ready and provided.”[108] It had been previously decided
who and how many should sail with “the forlorn hope;” “for all that
were willing to have gone could not get ready on account of their
other affairs; neither if they could, had there been means to have
transported them all together. Those that stayed being the greater
number, required the pastor to tarry with them; and indeed for other
reasons Robinson could not then well go, so this was more readily
yielded unto. The others then desired elder Brewster to sail with
them, which was assented to. It was also agreed by mutual consent
and covenant, that those who went should be an absolute church of
themselves, as well as those who remained; seeing that, in such a
dangerous voyage, and removed to such a distance, it might come to
pass that they should, for the body of them, never meet again in this
world; yet this proviso was inserted, that as any of the rest crossed
the water, or any of the Pilgrims returned upon occasion, they should
be reputed as members without any further discussion or testimonial.
It was also promised to those that went first, by the body of the
rest, that if the Lord gave them life and means and opportunity,
they would come to them as soon as they could.”[109]
On the eve of departure a solemn fast was held. “Let us seek of God,”
said these disciples so shortly to be severed by the sullen sea, “a
right way for us and for our little ones and for all our substance.”
Is it strange that New England is moral and well-ordered and devout,
when it was begotten of a fast and a prayer?
Robinson gave the departing members of his exiled flock “a farewell,
breathing a freedom of opinion and an independence of authority such
as then was hardly known in the world;”[110] and this he intermixed
with practical directions for the future guidance of the Pilgrim
voyagers. He chose that beautiful text in Ezra, “And there, at the
river by Ahava, I proclaimed a fast, that we might humble ourselves
before God, and seek of him a right way for us, and for our children,
and for all our substance.”[111]
Unhappily, “but a brief outline of that remarkable sermon has been
preserved. We would gladly give whole shoals of printed discourses in
exchange for that one homily. While, however, the larger part is lost
in the long silence of the past, the fragments of this great man’s
farewell utterances are gathered up and preserved among our richest
relics.”[112]
Never was there a more affecting occasion. A Christian congregation,
welded together alike by a common faith and a common misfortune, was
about to be rent asunder. Some of their number, thrice exiled, were
soon to essay the settlement of an unknown and legendary wilderness.
These dear wanderers they might never see again with their mortal
eyes; and even should they meet them once more on the shores of
time, years must intervene before the greeting. Strange thoughts
and anxious chased each other across the troubled mirror of each
countenance. All eyes were dim with tears; all hands were clasped;
the pastor’s heart was full. Amidst the painful silence, broken by a
frequent sob, the low, sweet voice of Robinson was heard quivering
upon the sympathetic air: “Brethren, we are now ere long to part
asunder, and the Lord knoweth whether I shall live ever to see your
faces more. But whether the Lord hath appointed it or not, I charge
you before God and his blessed angels to follow me no farther than I
have followed Christ. If God should reveal any thing to you by any
other instrument of his, be as ready to receive it as ever you were
to receive any truth of my ministry, for I am very confident the
Lord hath more truth and light yet to break forth out of his holy
word. Miserably do I bewail the state and condition of the reformed
churches, who are come to a period in religion, and will go no
farther than the instruments of their reformation.
“Remember your church covenant, in which you have agreed to walk in
all the ways of the Lord, made or to be made known unto you. Remember
your promise and covenant with God and with one another to receive
whatever light and truth shall be made known to you from his written
word; but withal, take heed, I beseech you, what you receive for
truth, and compare it and weigh it with other scriptures of truth
before you accept it; for it is not possible the Christian world
should come so lately out of such thick antichristian darkness, and
that full perfection of knowledge should break forth at once.”[113]
Much is said now-a-days about the development of Christianity. The
clatter of _pseudo_-philosophers is deafening. We have the German
rationalistic school; the worshippers in the “broad church” of the
humanitarians; the idolaters of a mystic pantheism; the devotees
of the Socinian tenets; the bold blasphemers who reject all faith,
and form a creed in epigrammatic sneers; and the apostles of two
churches, one of which believes that God is too good to damn men,
while the other holds that man is too good to be damned. All this
divinity is quite adrift; it floats rudderless, and rejects the
anchorage of God’s word. Robinson was wiser. He was no friend of
stagnant Christianity; but in all his voyaging after truth he clung
to his Bible anchorage. Inside of that he saw ample room for the
completest development. “The Bible, not the fathers, formed his
text-book; he discerned there the depths of truth and glory, into
which he was persuaded that thoughtful minds might plunge farther and
farther as time rolled on. The Bible was to him like the universe, a
system unchangeable in its great facts and fundamental principles,
but ever opening wider and wider upon devout and studious intellects.
He knew there would be no change in God’s word, no addition to
or subtraction from its contents; but he looked for beautiful
and improving changes in men’s views—for broader, clearer, and
grander conceptions of God’s truth.”[114] This was Robinson’s idea
of “the development of Christianity,” and it was surcharged with
profound philosophy as well as with sound practical direction and
Christian pathos. The great Puritan teacher was neither a Socinian,
a Pantheist, a Rationalist, nor a Mystic; he claimed no kinship
with the money-changers who scourge Christ out of the temple of
his divinity; least of all did he sympathize with those who reject
the sufficiency of the Scripture text, and found their schemes of
progress upon material bases. No; Robinson favored the most radical
Christian progress, but he based his idea upon the Bible, and knew
how to guard his notion of development from misconception and abuse.
The evangelical believers of our day owe the famous Leyden exile a
lasting debt of gratitude for the clear distinction which he has
drawn between the progressive “liberty of the sons of God,” and
the earth-born whims which materialism baptizes with the name of
“progress.”
In this same sermon Robinson pressed one other thing, exhibiting,
in a bigoted and narrow age, rare catholicity of spirit. “Another
thing I commend to you,” he said; “by all means shake off the name
of _Brownist_.[115] ’Tis a mere nickname, a brand to make religion
odious, and the professors of it, to the Christian world. To that
end I should be glad if some godly minister would go over with you
before my coming; for there will be no appreciable difference between
the Puritans who have not renounced the church of England and you,
when you come to the practice of the ordinances out of the British
kingdom. By all means close with the godly party of England, and
rather study union than division; in how nearly we may possibly,
without sin, close with them, than in the least measure to affect
division or separation from them. Nor be ye loath to take another
pastor or teacher; for that flock which hath two shepherds is not
endangered, but secured thereby.”[116]
Thus abruptly ends this precious fragment; and it may justly be
esteemed one of the rarest verbal gems in the trophied casket of our
Saxon tongue.
Two vessels had been chartered for the voyage: the “_Speedwell_,”
a small ship of some sixty tons, and a larger vessel of a hundred
and eighty tons, called the “_Mayflower_.”[117] The “Speedwell”
lay moored at Delft Haven, a little seaport in the vicinity of
Leyden.[118] The Pilgrims were to sail in this ship across the
Channel to Southampton, where the “Mayflower” would join them, and
thence they were to launch in company across the Atlantic.[119]
On the 21st of July, 1620, the exiles quitted Leyden, which had been
their quiet resting-place for eleven years, and journeyed to Delft
Haven. “When the ship was ready to carry us away,” wrote Edward
Winslow, “the brethren that stayed at Leyden, having again solemnly
sought the Lord with us and for us, feasted us that were to go,
at our pastor’s house, a commodious building. Here we refreshed
ourselves, after tears, with singing psalms, making joyful melody
in our hearts, as well as with the voice, there being many of the
congregation very expert in music; and indeed it was the sweetest
melody that ever mine ears heard. After this our friends accompanied
us to Delft Haven, where we were to embark, and there feasted us
again. And after prayer by our pastor, when a flood of tears was
poured out, they accompanied us to the ship; but we were not able to
speak one to another for the abundance of sorrow to part.”[120]
Only a part of the colonists went aboard the “Speedwell” on the day
of their arrival at Delft Haven; the others tarried in the town over
night, spending the hours in conversation and expressions of true
Christian love.[121] “The morning light must have gleamed mournfully
upon their eyes through the windows of the apartments where they
assembled. It told them that the last days of their pleasant
intercourse with old, endeared friends had come, for the wind was
fair, and the vessel was ready to weigh anchor and sail. And so they
went down to the shore, where the scene at Miletus was literally
repeated, save that the people were the voyagers, instead of their
apostolic father. Robinson ‘kneeled down and prayed with them, and
all wept sore, and fell upon his neck and kissed him, sorrowing
most of all for the words which he spake, that they should see his
face no more; then he accompanied them to the ship.’ Even the Dutch
strangers, who saw the parting, stood and wept.”[122]
Then came the shrill “Yo hoy” of the seamen; final caresses were
exchanged; sail was hoisted; a salute was fired from the “Speedwell;”
and while the friends on shore watched the receding vessel and
strained their eye-balls to retain their vision, she glinted below
the horizon, and was gone.
Southampton was safely and speedily reached; “the _Speedwell_ entered
port to join the _Mayflower_—ships whose names have become hallowed,
and are worthy of being placed, with the Argo of the ancients, amid
the constellations of heaven.”