how it dwells On the Future! how it tells O Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells! tar the loud alarvm bells- What a fale of ferror, now, their turbulency Tells! In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire. In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire Leaping higher, higher, higher, With a desperate desire. And a resolvie endeavor By the side of the pale-faced moon. how they clang and clash and roar! On the bosom of the palpitating air! and the clanging, how the danger ebbs and flows: And the wrangling, How the danger sinks and swells, By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bellsOf the bells Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, Bells, bells, bells ear the tolling of the bells- What a world of solemn thought their monody compels! In the silence of the night, At the melancholy menace of their fone! From the rust within their throats and who tolling, folling, tolling On the human heart a stone They are neither brute nor human And their king it is who tolls: A pasan from the bells! По Keeping time, time, time, as he knells, knells, knells, Of the bells, bells, bells, bells- To the moaning and the groaning of the bells. .. THE CASE OF PARSON HEWLETT. HE By Kate Upson Clark. impression The story of his calling is thus told in which Parson the old town records of Birchmont: Hewlett first "The vote was put wheather the Town made upon his was ready to make choice of a gentleBirchmont par- man to settle with them at present, and ish was very fa- it past in the affirmative. Then, accordvorable. It is ing to the advice of the neighboring minsaid that all of isters, the Town proceeded to Chuse and the people, including Deacon Aaron Rice, Call the Revd. Mr. Jonathan Hewlett to a famous judge of pulpit eloquence, the work of the ministry among us. thought him "a most uncommon preach- Agreed and voted to give the said Mr. er"; Goodsir Giles, the chief stickler for Jonathan Hewlett, provided he Accepts orthodoxy in the parish, declared the new and Settles among us, one hundred pounds parson to be "as sound on the doctrines settlement; to be paid as followes, viz., as Jeremy Taylor himself"; and he made sixty pounds the first year and fourty a prayer long enough to satisfy even Dr. pounds the second year. As also an Hartshorn, who is said to have considered it annual salary, to begin as followes; viz., a piece of irreverence in a clergyman to fifty pounds to be paid the first year, and consume less than an hour in making his to rise two pounds a year five years, and long prayer"; while the women agreed there to remain, and likewise to find him in pronouncing him "the comeliest minis- his wood." ter in all the country round." Even old Mistress Betty Weddell, who lived lonely in her little cottage among the pines on Birchmont Hill, said that the new parson "knew how to speak to a body." 66 not Mistress Betty has come down in history as a very cross old woman. It turned out that the new parson did much care to speak to her, well as knew how, when he became better acquainted with her. he These remarks were all made upon the tenth day of August, 1767. The new pastor's full name was the Reverend Jonathan Hewlett, late of the college at New Haven, and later of Walpole, N. H. He wore "a great white wig and a cocked-up hat, and made a dignified appearance." One of his ministerial friends said of him to another: "He could do more execution with one nod of his wig than you or I could in talking half an hour." Yes, a man of power was the Reverend Jonathan Hewlett, and the mark which he left upon the town of Birchmont, and, indeed, upon the whole county, has remained to this day. Shortly after Parson Hewlett's coming among them, the people voted to make a new meeting-house for him "forty-five feet long and thirty-five feet wide and twenty foot post." Later, it was voted that when sixty families were settled in the town, the salary should "rise one pound upon each family that shall be added above sixty, till it comes to be eighty pounds a year, and there to remain during his continuance with us in the work of the ministry. It was likewise agreed upon and voted that the selectmen shall lay out the minister's right in publick land where the minister shall chuse." Then "a commity was appointed to provide for the Rev'd Jonathan Hewlett's installation" and "to build him a house." All of which looks as though Dr. Hartshorn and Deacon Rice and Goodsir Giles and the rest had meant to be fair and square, and even generous with the pastor they so much admired, when they "settled" him; still, his subsequent history leads us to believe that the preparations for his reception and maintenance were very closely supervised by the thrifty parson himself. He certainly found the people ready and willing to do his bidding, however, and if his life had but been in accordance with his prayers and his profession, it is reasonable to believe that his parishioners would have supported and loved him to the end. But, like many another, Parson Hewlett had a nature which grace failed to subdue, and, though his side of the story has not come down to us so fully as has that of the town, it is plain to see that he showed himself very soon to be "an hard man, reaping where he had not sowed, and gathering where he had not strown." His sound and doctrinal sermons, however, his grand looks and courtly manners, and, above all, the innate respect for his office which was a part of provincial human nature in those days kept Parson Hewlett in good and regular standing among his people for several years. Then the mutterings of discontent which had been making themselves heard distantly here and there began to grow louder. Mistress Betty Weddell was one of the first to "speak out." "What's fair words," scolded the poor old woman, from whom the parson had wrenched her share of the "ministertax," at his own convenience, instead of hers. "What's fair words, when the Evil One is behind them? Oh, I wish," tradition says that she confided to her neighbors, "I wish that Parson Hewlett would go by my woods some dark night on his high-stepping horse! How I would love to jump out of the bushes and Boh!' at him!" But poor old Mistress Betty never had the chance she coveted. Goodsir Giles, too, had hard luck, and was not able to pay his minister-tax any better than Mistress Betty; but this did not deter Parson Hewlett from insisting upon his rights in the matter. One morning he came around to see the old Goodsir, and urged upon him with prayer (very likely an hour long), the wickedness of putting off the payment of his tax. "But I tell you I can't pay a penny this year, parson," explained Goodsir Giles, for the dozenth time; "I said so, and I mean it. My wife has been sick this twelvemonth, my hogs have died, my horse broke his neck in the pasture, and I can't even pay my score at the mill." "Tut, tut!" reproved the parson, "I can't believe that you are so badly off as all that! Come now, and let us see what you have.” Shrewdly exploring the premises, he discovered a fine milch cow, which he proceeded to lead off for himself, under the very eyes of its indignant owner. The poor old Goodsir pleaded that this cow was all which stood between his family and starvation, but even this availed him nothing. "Ha, sirrah!" scolded the pompous parson, "pay your debts before you lay up for the future. Read your Bible, and learn from that, that the Lord will provide. If you are needy, call upon the town." Goodsir Giles had a better chance than Mistress Betty to avenge himself upon the insolent parson. One day in early spring, when the ice was still pretty firm in the Birchmont River, Parson Hewlett crossed it in the morning to attend a "Conference" upon the other side. The sun was very warm at noon, and upon his return, his sleigh broke through the ice in the very middle of the stream. Goodsir Giles, whose house was on the bank close by, heard loud cries for help, and hurried out to see what was the matter. His heart, which had been moved by the piteous cries, hardened when he saw who was in trouble. "Help, help, Goodsir Giles, for God's sake!" roared the haughty parson, now humble enough. But the Goodsir was ready for him. He made a trumpet of his two hands and bawled through it: "Keep up your courage, parson! The Lord will provide ! Call upon the town!" Then he went back to his house. It was a long, cold half-hour, tradition tells us, before a chance passer-by rescued the haughty parson from his perilous and uncomfortable position. He and his horse were half dead from fright and exposure, but haughty Goodsir Giles felt no compunctions. Parson Hewlett raised a large family, and, though he was a very serious man, he had one conundrum which he always asked of strangers to whom he wished to make himself agreeable. |