Harper's New Monthly Magazine
November, 1871.

A New England Village.

This church stood on the ample "Green" on which the present house of worship stands, and its oaken timbers--though, after the removal of the Indians to New York, they were put to a different use from their original one--have been in a good state of preservation until within a few years; and quite recently the remains of them have been wrought into various articles of ornament and use, which may still serve as mementoes of the history of a century and a half ago, and of life in the wilderness.        No bell rang out its call to worship through the primeval forests. But the people of Boston gave the little Indian church what was deemed a very handsome substitute for one, in the shape of a conch shell, then recently imported from the tropics. This was blown lustily at the hour of worship, and usually by an Indian. Hence, perhaps, the tradition that it was of such size that no ordinary man could even lift it. The shell, however, is now to be seen in the museum of the Stockbridge Library, and though somewhat worn by its long use, is of the usual dimensions¡ The office of blowing the conch seems to have been an important one, as we find the town at various times voting to make contributions for the purpose of paying David Nai-nau-nee-ka-nuk for this service. Under the labors of Sergeant and those associated with him, the rude aborigines were constantly growing in enlightenment and virtue. At the time of his death in 1749, fourteen years after his missionary work began, one hundred and eighty-two of the Indians had been baptized by him, and forty-two were then professed Christians. Forsaking the society of scholars that he might instruct a heathen race, enduring poverty and the many privations incident to a life in the wilderness, incessant in labors in behalf of his adopted people, his death was felt by them as a sore bereavement; and the stone which still marks his resting-place in the cemetery at Stockbridge bears this quaint inscription, composed by one of his Indian pupils, a token at the same time of their regard for him, and of the civilizing and religious work he had wrought upon them: "Where is that pleasing form? I ask: thou canst not show; He's not within, false stone; there's naught but death below. And where's that pious soul, that thinking, con- scious mind? Wilt thou pretend, vain cipher, that's with thee enshrined? Alas, my friend, not here with thee that I can find; Here's not a Sergeant's body or a Sergeant's mind. I'll seek him hence, for all's alike deception here; I'll go to heaven, and I shall find my Sergeant there."        After the death of Sergeant the Indians and the few whites at Stockbridge were without any pastor for nearly two years. Then there succeeded to that vacant office in the wild woods one whose name is not only highly honored throughout this land, but better known and more honored abroad, perhaps, than that of any of our countrymen except Washington. As a preacher, a philosopher, and a person of devoted piety he is unsurpassed. In his days of boyhood he found his enjoyment in the study of natural science and mathematics, and was an acute observer both of objects in the outward world and in the world of mind. Locke "On the Understanding" was his source of youthful recreation. When hardly beyond his majority he bad been called to the pastorship of one of the most important parishes of New England, and had soon become distinguished as an eloquent and effective preacher. His fame had crossed the Atlantic, and eminent men in Europe were his friendly correspondents. But now, after a most successful ministry of more than twenty years, a controversy had arisen between him and his people, and they had thrust him out from them rudely and almost in disgrace. The subsequent adoption of his views, not only 821 | Previous Page | Next Page | | Berkshire County Home |