Chapter VI: Part 6

Thy kindness has already won my heart
And wak’d my sorrowing soul anew to pleasure.

JEPHTHAH.

But where’s thy mother? is she here with thee
Or dost thou mourn her with my fallen brother.

TIRZAH.

Fearing thy wrath too justly merited
She retir’d to hide her keen remorse from thee
I’ll seek her to relate thy generous pardon
And let her thanks repay thy boundless goodness
Which my full heart refuses words to express.

(_Exit_ ELIZABETH _and_ TIRZAH.)
(_Enter_ ELZAPHAN _and_ PEDAZAR.)

JEPHTHAH.

Welcome Elzaphan, my friend Pedazar
What news from our unhappy country?

PEDAZAR.

On Jordan’s banks proud Ammon’s banner waves
Judah already bends before his arms
While Benjamin to stern Philistia yields
Who threats all Israel with her galling yoke

ELZAPHAN.

Our country torn by faction
Our land by faction torn, bleeding at every pore
By foreign and domestic woes oppress’d
Have sent us here as messengers of grace
For all the past they humbly sue for pardon
And beg thou’lt lead their armies to the field
Secure of victory neath thy powerful arm.

JEPHTHAH.

When fortune smil’d and plenty fill’d your dwellings
And youthful vigor prompted me to enjoy
Each social pleasure, and my warm heart
O’erflow’d with kindness to ye. Ye hated me
Drove me from friends, from my lov’d country
From all the joys my ardent nature priz’d.
Then why do ye come to seek me in distress.
My youthful arm oft quell’d your powerful foes
And this lone desert all the reward obtained.
I scorn those friends, who fawn in times of trouble
But mid prosperity forget past favors.

PEDAZAR.

Tis not thy ungrateful friends alone implore thee
Thy country’s voice proclaims thee as her chief.
Not against thee alone our elders sin’d
Our ungrateful hearts forgot the Rock of Ages
His great deliverance and his boundless blessings
All, all ne’er made our stubborn hearts obey
Fill his just vengeance, clothe the land in mourning
Then by our humble prayers and deep repentance
We sought his pardon and obtained forgiveness.
His gracious voice is heard again in Israel
For not like man the Almighty holds resentment
How can weak man whose virtues all are frail
To near approach his Heavenly Maker’s image
As by kind mercy delegate of heaven
Who bids us pardon even our enemies.

JEPHTHAH.

Should I return would you indeed prove true
Is no conceal’d no treacherous snare employ’d
To work my ruin by my envious foes.

PEDAZAR.

No treachery believe me waits thy steps
Dost thou think so meanly of Pedazar’s heart
As to suspect he would join in bare deceit
To work the ruin of his bitterest foe
Much less the man once rank’d among his friends.

JEPHTHAH.

Pedazar pray forgive my unjust suspicions
My former fortunes render me distrustful
And if the Lord give Ammon to my hands
Shall I retain my place as Israel’s judge
Swear that ye will not drive me again to exile.

ELZAPHAN.

Here in our country’s name we solemn swear
And call heaven’s thunders to attest the oath
That Jephthah’s chosen judge of Israel
To rule in peace and war with equal sway
And may heaven’s vengeance blast the guilty wretch
Who dares oppose what Israel has decreed.

PEDAZAR.

Come let us haste, the expectant army waits
With keen impatience for their gallant leader
And Israel’s prayers attend us to the field.

JEPHTHAH.

Go tell our warriors Jephthah soon will join them
And while life’s current warms this heart to action
Ammon shall feel the fury of this arm.

(_Exit_ ELZAPHAN _and_ PEDAZAR.)

JEPHTHAH.

Great God, if thou indeed wilt crown my arms
With wish’d success against our impious foe
And make ungrateful Israel feel my wrongs
Then will I offer on thy altar, Lord
What e’er comes first from out my house to meet me
To hail my joyful conquest o’er the foe
Ammon destroyed and Israel bless’d with peace.

(_End of the first act._)

PL. XXIV.—“THE ROSE OF SHARON,” PUPIL ABOUT 1814

From a miniature painted by Dickinson

Elizabeth Hannah Canfield, daughter of Judson Canfield and Mabel
Ruggles, of Sharon, Conn. She married Frederick Augustus Tallmadge,
son of Col. Benjamin Tallmadge. She was called “The Rose of Sharon”
by the law students, from her beauty and her birthplace, her sister
Julia receiving the title of “The Lily of the Valley,” from her fair
skin and want of color.

The two sons of Gov. Edward Telfair, of Georgia, who attended the law
school, were in love with her,—Thomas and Alexander. The latter
offered himself and was refused. He afterwards walked the twenty
miles from Litchfield to Sharon only to gaze at the light in her
window and walk back again.
]

_Act II._

_Scene I._

(JEPHTHAH’S _house at Mizpeh_, ELIZABETH, TIRZAH _and several young women singing_).

SONG.

Guide our troops O great Jehovah
Save this sinful, war worn land.
We are weak; but thou art mighty,
Save us by thy powerful hand.
King of heaven, king of heaven
Save us, and we ask no more.

2

Shield our fathers in the strife,
Guard our brothers, we implore
Give them victory, freedom, life
Drive our foes far from this shore.
King of heaven, king of heaven,
Dry our tears, and hear our prayers.

(_Enter_ MAHALAH _and_ BETHULAH.)

MAHALAH.

With anxious heart I mark each slow pac’d hour
While Israel’s bands engage our numerous foes
Should Jephthah fall our shield our last defense
Our tribes must wear the galling yoke of slaves
More fear’d than death, more gloomy than the grave.

BETHULAH.

Sister what words have pass’d thy lips unweigh’d
Is Jephthah’s arm the only hope of Israel
Wilt thou on him an arm of flesh rely
When that great Being who controll’st the heavens
Who exalts proud tyrants to afflict the earth
Or driv’st them headlong from their envied greatness
Who mak’st weak insects his commissioners
To humble the power of strongest nations
When this great Being is our covenant God
Gave this fair Canaan to the seed of Jacob
Drove out great nations for his chosen people
Has said the sceptre shall not fail in Judah
Till that great prince the Almighty Shiloh come.
On him rely even in the darkest hour
Whose word is sure, whose power is infinite
And though dark clouds conceal his deep decrees
His chast’ning rod is ever rais’d in mercy.

MAHALAH.

Thy just rebuke confirms my wav’ring faith
Subdues my terrors and inspires new confidence.

ELIZABETH.

I wish some news would reach us from our army
Jephthah may fall even in the arms of victory.
Methought last night I saw our bands triumphant
And my lov’d father crowned with wreaths of glory
I flew to clasp him, when an envious fiend
Rush’d in and snatch’d me far from him and Israel
Mid desert lands I wander’d lone and wretched
Till on a cloud I saw thy father Tirzah
With smiles benign, inviting me to heaven
I strove to join him, and the effort wak’d me.

TIRZAH.

Thy mind intent on Jephthah’s danger rests
Awake or sleeping thou art ever with him.

ELIZABETH.

Hark, what shout is that I hear?

(_Enter_ PEDAZAR.)

PEDAZAR.

Victory crowns our arms, Jephthah returns triumphant.
Oh praise the Lord who guides our hosts to battle
Whose mighty arm has wrought this great deliverance
Come my young companions prepare the timbrel
Let’s haste with joyful songs and comely dance
To hail our heroes glorious from the war
Take each a wreath of laurel, to bind the victor’s brow
And name each gallant hero in our song.

(ELIZABETH _and her companions form a procession_.)

SONG.
STRIKE THE CYMBAL.

_Act III._

_Scene I._

(_Enter_ JEPHTHAH _followed by_ ELIZABETH _and_ TIRZAH.)

ELIZABETH.

My father why avert thy clouded brow
Why turn thine eye with horror from thy daughter
Ne’er till this hour was Elizabeth unwelcome.

JEPHTHAH.

Oh my child thou hast brought me low
Low even to the ground thou hast bow’d thy father
Oh thou hast filled my soul with anguish
For to the Lord I vowed, oh dreadful vow
And I must pay it with thy precious blood.

ELIZABETH.

My father let thy vow be cheerful paid
Tho’ my heart’s blood must seal the solemn oath
A little boon to pay the mighty debt
Of thy success and Israel’s great deliverance.

(_Enter_ BETHULAH, MAHALAH, PEDAZAR, _and_ ELZAPHAN.)

BETHULAH.

What do I hear! is then my darling child
My life’s best comfort and my dearest treasure
Devoted to thy rash and bloody vow
Oh Jephthah, Jephthah must this glorious morn
This day of joy to happy Israel’s race
Be only dark in cruel Jephthah’s house
Must its bright hours be stained with guiltless blood
The light of life torn from a mother’s arms
No human victims the Almighty claims
Tis heathen gods who boast such horrid rites
Offensive to our great Jehovah who delights in mercy.

PL. XXV.—BLACK LACE VEIL MADE BY “THE ROSE OF SHARON”
]

ELIZABETH.

My dearest mother do not yield to grief
Collect thy wonted firmness
And give thy bright example to thy daughter.
Oh see’st thou not my father’s wounded spirit
Claims thy support
And thy distress adds anguish to his wounds.
Think of Abraham our noble ancestor
No sigh escaped, no tear bedewed his cheek
When his lov’d Isaac follow’d to the altar
And mildly ask’d where is the lamb for sacrifice.

BETHULAH.

Twas no rash vow made by our rev’rend father
But God’s express command, his child to offer
To show the world one truly faithful saint
At God’s command thy precious life I’d yield
Without a murmur crown the sacred victim
But now, oh now a mother’s tears are just
My cries shall rend the air and know no pause
Till Heaven in mercy move stern Jephthah’s heart
To revoke his cruel his unlawful vow.
Will not whole hecatombs of bulls suffice
Will not some other blood atone for thine
Behold me here oh! most unjust of fathers
Kneeling I ask to spend my life for hers.

ELIZABETH.

Mother most rever’d most lov’d of mortals
Do not in pity, do not melt me thus
Nor rend my father’s heart by thy reproaches
Lest grief so poignant snap the chord of life
And bleeding Israel mourn their gallant leader.

JEPHTHAH.

No let her just reproaches have full vent.
I deserve her hatred, thine and my country’s
What right had I to vow a sacrifice
Which might have fallen upon another’s head
Had any of my menial train advanc’d
With joyful greetings at their master’s glory
They had been sacrificed to my dread oath
And grief like mine torn the fond bosoms
Of their hapless friends
Oh God most holy, wise are thy decrees
I kiss the rod and own thy just correction.

MAHALAH.

Is there no offering can atone to heaven
No blood of beasts to save this precious child
Speak holy father thou art read in the laws
Can nothing save this guiltless valued maid?

ELZAPHAN.

Nothing can save her, naught devote to God
Or man or beast or field can be redeemed
Nor can a generous friend a ransom give
The life so offer’d or the thing so chang’d
Are both devote to God.
Our holy laws ordains no change in this
Tho’ common offerings are by gifts redeemed
A sacred vow must ever be rever’d (_turn to the end_) _x x x_
So dear Bethulah strive against thy grief
Which adds fresh anguish to the wounded heart
Shall Jephthah ruler of our chosen race
Infringe the law and break a solemn oath
Would not the people taught by his example
Deem their oaths light, which bind them to his sway
Think o’er the woes which now, oppress our land
But recent sav’d from powerful Ammon’s yoke
Still bleeding with the wounds of bloody faction
And numerous ills bro’t on by disobedience
Jephthah’s example now must save or crush us
Ah better that thy daughter rich in worth
And lov’d thro’ Israel as a child of light
Better that she, with all her virgin train
Give their pure lives to fulfill a solemn vow
Than we our rulers, and our numerous tribes
Be taught by Jephthah to offend our God
Dreadful in anger terrible in vengeance.

BETHULAH.

Forgive me heaven if I have grown rebellious
Forgive me Jephthah and forgive me Israel
My brain grows wild, I can’t endure the light.

_ACT_

_Scene I._

(JEPHTHAH _and_ ELIZABETH.)

ELIZABETH.

Permit me lov’d father ere I quit the world
To pay a parting tribute to the cot
Which shelter’d us during our days of exile
Where unambitious happiness was ours
There with my young companions let me wander
Amid the mountain groves I lov’d so well
And take a last farewell of this world’s joys
There mourn my sins. Prepare my mind to meet
The awful hour, which fills my feeble soul
With new felt terror.

JEPHTHAH.

My child; pride of my life
Once hop’d the staff of my declining years
Thy slightest wish is sacred to thy father
Go with thy virgin train, take leave of time
Its joys are fleeting as the morning dew
Tho’ to thy youthful mind they now appear most fair
But why should’st thou be terrified at death
Thou whose pure life? unblemished by a crime
Scarce tinctur’d with the stain of Adam’s race
Hast lived a miracle of sweetness
Can thy chaste bosom feel a thought of fear
At entering thy heavenly Maker’s presence
It is my pride my only consolation
To think that death’s a glorious boon to thee
Snatching thy virtues from the numerous ills
Which wait frail man even in his happiest state.

ELIZABETH.

No heart so innocent but feels most vile
When ent’ring the dread presence of its maker
Whose eye discerns the faults of spotless angels
Who chargest his minist’ring spirits with folly
What then is man, a creature form’d of dust
To dare plead innocence before the Eternal
Even Abra’m friend of God, and Moses sin’d
What then am I a frail a feeble woman
Whose idle thot’s, and vain desires betray,
This foolish heart, each day to guilt and error
But God is mercy, and I trust his grace
Will pardon the sins and errors of my youth
Reform my virtues, and inspire my soul
With heavenly wisdom and immortal love.

(_Enter_ BETHULAH, MAHALAH _and_ TIRZAH.)

BETHULAH.

Lead on my sister here’s our darling child
Our lost Elizabeth.

ELIZABETH.

Not so my mother rather say she’s found
Will not thy child be sav’d from many sorrows
Is not a virtuous death an envied lot
Perhaps God kindly calls me from a world
Where luring pleasure might deprave my mind
Its yet untasted bliss might stain my life
With vain ambition, pride and love of wealth
Perhaps the sins of Israel are not full
And fell destruction waits to scourge the land
Then when thou seest the matron vainly sueing
For pity to the vile and murderous band
Then wilt thou rejoice thy Elizabeth is safe.

BETHULAH.

Vainly my child thou striv’st to sooth my woe
I still must grieve, thou art my only hope
E’er since the hour I clasp’d thy infant form
With that fond transport mothers only know
I envied not the world its pomp or riches
The greatest monarch that ere rul’d the world
Was not so happy mid his days of triumph
Viewing his vast domains, and countless treasures
As I with my sweet lovely smiling infant
And each revolving year increased the treasure
And must I now, oh must I part with thee?
Yes I submit, since tis the will of heaven
But ask me not to bear the stroke with firmness
A mother’s heart must feel a mother’s woe.

ELIZABETH.

Think me not dead but in a happier country
Where grief’s not known but joy succeeds to joy
Perhaps our gracious God, will permit me
To watch thy secret steps, and whisper peace
When sad calamity corrodes thy bosom
To hover o’er thy walks a guardian spirit
To pour the balm of joy on all thy anguish
And wing thy soul at thy last hour to heaven
Tirzah must be thy child, my friend and sister
Must fill my place in thy maternal heart.

TIRZAH.

Oh were I worthy to fulfill that office
But if affection, sympathising love
And fix’d attention to thy slightest wish
Can sooth the sorrows of thy woe worn heart
Tirzah will spend her life to make thine tranquil.

(_Enter_ ATTENDANT.)

ATTENDANT.

The worthy Agnes with her three sweet children
Desire to see thee.

ELIZABETH.

I bade her come. Promis’d her feeble age
Should find protection in my native country
I dread to see her; her tears will melt
Her gratitude oppress me.

(_Enter_ AGNES _and her three grandchildren_)

AGNES.

Did I then visit Israel’s land for this.

(_To_ JEPHTHAH _who during this scene is walking in a gloomy but
determined silence in the back part of the stage_.)

Can’st thou who taught our savage race humanity
Can’st thou infringe its inviolable rights
And must Elizabeth, the kind the good,
She at whose presence ev’ry sorrow fled
At whose approach even misery smiled
Must she be sacrificed?
Ye powers of kindness melt his heart to pity
Oh how the poor will rue this dire event
I bro’t you here _dear babes_ to thank your generous friend
But she no more will cheer your fainting souls
No more with her own hands your forms adorn
She’s going to join her kindred angels
Lift up you [(little)/(innocent)] hands with mine sweet babes
Perhaps our prayers may move stern Jephthah’s heart
Come let us kneel and urge him to relent.

(_As_ AGNES _and the children kneel_ JEPHTHAH _goes out_.)

ELIZABETH.

(_Raising_ AGNES _and the children_.)

My good old friend, I thank thy honest zeal
But do not by thy grief distress my father
Thy little innocents, shall ne’er want friends
My mother do not say that thou art childless
I give these helpless orphans, for thy children
Guard them I pray thee for Eliza’s sake.
From ev’ry vice, and form their minds to virtue.

BETHULAH.

Sweet babes ye ne’er shall want a mother’s care
While sad Bethulah owns this wretched being.

ELIZABETH.

Tirzah wilt thou attend the little guests.

PL. XXVI.—JULIA CHITTENDEN, PUPIL, 1800
]

(TIRZAH _leads the children to the back part of the stage_.)

ELIZABETH.

Mother I have one more request to make
If thou wilt grant it, I shall leave the world
With less regret, without one secret pang.

BETHULAH.

What can’st thou ask my darling child
Which thy fond mother will not joy to give.

ELIZABETH.

I fear thou hast not forgiven my father
The hasty vow which binds me to the tomb
Forgive him my dear mother I entreat
It wrings my heart to see my parent’s coldness
Oh let no tears of hatred bathe my tomb.

BETHULAH.

My dearest child, I have I will forgive him.

ELIZABETH.

Then let us seek him that I may view once more.
Returning peace and love within this dwelling.

(_Exit_ BETHULAH _leaning on her daughter_.)

AGNES.

Sweet flower untimely torn from life
In virtues course mature
Short is thy race, but glorious as the sun(light)
Thy innocence more fragrant than the morn
Shall rise in spotless incense to the skies
Sweet babes imprint her image on your hearts
Copy her bright unsullied life in yours
Her smile was charity her heart all love
Her lips drop’d comfort to the wounded heart
Oh may her parting pangs be few
Few as the stains, which sully her pure life.

_Act_

_Scene I._

(_A grove._)
(ELIZABETH, TIRZAH.)

ELIZABETH.

Farewell sweet fields deck’d in the pride of spring
No more thy verdant charms shall meet my view
Ye harmless flocks, no more my fond companions
Shall ye delight me with your sportive gambols
Another now must watch your tender lambs
Another hand must guide you to the field
And thou fair sun, bright image of our Maker
No more thy beams shalt wake the joyous morn
And light my eyes to greet this beauteous earth
Farewell oh world, thy joys I know are fleeting
But still entwine frail man around thy heart
And is it Tirzah, is it a crime to love
The tender reverend name of parent
With such affection, such unbounded fondness
That this torn heart, drawn by the ties of nature
Cleaves fast to earth, and loses sight of heaven
If tis a crime to love with so much ardour
Why rests so many virtues on the passion
And if our friendship ends with mortal being
Why glows its flame more bright at death’s approach.

TIRZAH.

Friendship and filial love my dear Elizabeth
Will find a place no doubt in heavenly bosoms
And if our fondness for our earthly friends
Does not exceed the love of our Creator
Tis innocent, nay more a lovely virtue
A duty which commands a blessing on it.

ELIZABETH.

It is no crime I’m sure, to love a mother
Fond and good as mine, to revere a father
Whose stern virtues yield, in melting tenderness
Towards his child. All other ties I quit
Without a struggle, but these, these tear my heart
And melt me quite to weakness.

TIRZAH.

I oft have wonder’d at thy fortitude
How can thy heart so firmly meet thy fate
The wisest best of men tho’ bent with age,
Grown callous of the earth and all its pleasures
Tremble at death’s approach, and cling to life
With eager fondness. Then how canst thou my friend
Adorned with ev’ry grace, courted by ev’ry bliss
The earth affords, resign these pleasures
And scarce breath a sigh.

ELIZABETH.

Bred in obscurity I feel no bliss
Allied to greatness, except the praise of virtue
Perhaps I had not met a common fate
With equal firmness. But when the world looks on
And applauds the deed, shame nerv’s the feelings
And we meet great evils with firmer patience
Than the triffling sorrows, the secret woes
Which daily rend the heart, which borne with patience
Oft make private life a scene of virtue
Worth an angel’s praise.

(_Enter_ PEDAZAR, _and a number of young women_.)

PEDAZAR.

The people wait the priests are ready.

ELIZABETH.

A moment more, Tirzah support my mother
I fear my fate will bend her to the tomb
Oh watch her evening hours with tender care
Try to assuage her grief, bid her remember
We soon shall meet again never to part.
And ah my friend remember
That when a few more waning suns have roll’d
Their silent course, thou too must join me in the narrow tomb
I love thee Tirzah, thou hast many virtues
But earthly joys too much engross thy heart
Forget not my last words, sweet friend and sister
Life’s but a day a short and wintry day
Then do not waste it in forgetfulness
Of that eternal glorious morn which follows
Receive my last embrace, my last adieu
Farewell my young companions, weep not for me
To that last dwelling whither I am going
Ye all will shortly follow. Then dry your tears
Or weep for your sins, or those of Israel
Thro’ death’s dark vale we pass to realms of bliss
Seek then to adorn your souls in virtue’s robes
By faith prepare to meet the bless’d in heaven
Where I trust this day to find a happy home
Beyond the limits of yon glorious orb
With soul enlarg’d, made pure from earth’s defilement
With saints and angels, sing redeeming love
Glory on glory opening to our view,
Thro’ the never ending ages of eternity
My lov’d companions, my earliest friends
Reject not this my last, my dying counsel
Flee ev’ry pleasure hurtful to the soul
Live here as strangers, bound to a better land
Then we shall meet where sorrow never comes
Where happiness is lasting, as tis pure.

(_Enter_ JEPHTHAH, ELZAPHAN _and attendant priests_.)

JEPHTHAH.

(_Leading his daughter forward._)

My friends and countrymen behold your chief
Thus justly punished for his cruel vow
Here I devote my child, my only child.
Except her, I have no son or daughter
Her spotless life has been my chief delight
Sum up perfection in a female form
And you name Jephthah’s daughter. Thus to fulfill
My vow to God, I give this sacred life,
A life more dear, more precious than my own.
Let my example teach you to beware
Of rash resolves, of breaking sacred oaths
Each one here present owes a life to God
A life of virtue, you have sworn with me
To obey his statutes, follow all his laws
Let not this precious blood be spilt in vain
But let this offering teach you to resign
Each selfish wish, each token of rebellion
And silent bend before that power who gives
Not only life but all its dear possessions.

(JEPHTHAH _hands his daughter to_ ELZAPHAN, _who leads her out. A procession of young women follow. Solemn music._)

NOTE 1. xxx

These sentiments of Elzaphan are not to be considered as agreeing with
the laws of Moses truly expounded, but we must suppose that not only
Jephthah but those priests who were about him must have mistaken the
meaning of the 28^{th} and 29th verses of the 27th chapter of
Leviticus, otherwise they would not have permitted Jephthah to have
sacrificed his amiable daughter to his unlawful vow. Not only Jephthah
but the leaders of Israel appear to have been tinctured by the idol
worship so long prevalent in Israel. Saul seems also to have made a
similar mistake when he devoted Jonathan. And all Israel fell into a
like error when they devoted the tribe of Benjamin to destruction. The
punishment in all these cases, fell on the offender, and doubtless
taught the nation the true meaning of the law. See Scott’s notes on
Jephthah’s sacrifice.

MRS. STOWE’S REMINISCENCES IN AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF LYMAN BEECHER.[40]

“On one occasion of this kind I had a hand in a merry joke enacted at one of the rehearsals of Miss Pierce’s favorite drama of ‘Jephtha’s Daughter.’

“It was when Jephtha, adorned with a splendid helmet of gilt paper and waving ostrich plumes, was awaiting the arrival of his general, Pedazar—his daughter’s lover—who was to enter and say,

“‘On Jordan’s banks proud Ammon’s banners wave.’

Miss Pierce stood looking on to criticise, when having prearranged the matter, a knock was heard, and I ran forward, saying, ‘Walk in, Mr. Pedazar.’ In he came, helmet and all, saying, ‘How are you, Jep?’ who replied, ‘Hulloo, old fellow! Walk in and take a chair.’ Miss Pierce was in no way discomfited, but seemed to relish the joke as much as we young folks.

“On one occasion of this sort father came in late, and the house being packed, he was admitted by the stage entrance. Either from accident or fun, just as he was passing over the stage, the curtain rose, and the law students spied him and commenced clapping. Father stopped, bowed low, amid renewed clapping and laughter, and then passed on to his seat.”

1814.
RULES FOR THE SCHOOL AND FAMILY.

[_Copied by Eliza Ann Mulford in 1814._]

It is expected that every young Lady who attends this School will be careful to observe the following rules.

_1^{st}_ To be always present at family prayers

_2^{nd}_ It is hop’d that each young Lady will read a portion of scripture in private and regularly address her Maker Morning and evening. They who begin the day in prayer will probably find cause to end it in praise.

_3^d_ Let our Saviours maxim be follow’d at all times. Do unto others, as you would they should do unto you.

_4^{th}_ Avoid anger, Wrath and evil speaking. a tale bearer separates chief Friends.

_5^{th}_ It is expected public Worship be attended every sabbath except sickness or some unavoidable circumstance prevents, which you will dare to produce as a sufficient excuse at the day of Judgement.

_6^{th}_ It is expected that your outward deportment be grave and decent, while in the house of God and that you be more ready to hear, than give the sacrifice of fools.

_7^{th}_ The sabbath is to be kept holy throughout not wasted in sloth, frivolous conversation, light reading, or vain employment, but every moment must be employed in endeavoring to improve your own heart in doing good to others Those who honour my sabbath, I will honour is the promise of the great and unchangable God

_8^{th}_ It is expected that every hour during the week be fully accomplish’d, either in useful employment or necessary recreation Keep always in remembrance that time is a most invaluable blessing, and that for all our time but—particularly for the hours of youth and health you must give an account to God.

PL. XXVII.—EMBROIDERY BY JULIA CHITTENDEN
]

_9^{th}_ Every real Lady will treat her superior with due reverence, her companions with politeness, good humor she will always show, a sweet temper, a modest deportment on all occasions, never forgetting what is due to all persons in every situation.

_10^{th}_ Those hours appropriated for any particular study, must not be employed in other occupation. Nothing can be well done without proper attention to regularity & there is time enough to acquire every useful and elegant accomplishment provided order be observed

_11^{th}_ Profusion in expenses, a want of Neatness and economy, a stupid inattention to instruction, are indications of a bad heart and must be avoided.

_12^{th}_ Each young lady must observe the particular rules of the family in which she resides.

QUESTIONS.

Have you rose early enough for the duties of the morning. Have you read a portion of scripture by yourself. Have you prayed to that God in Whose hands your breath is.

Have you in all cases done unto others as you would be done by. Have been angry—Have spoke evil of any one. Have you attended public worship. Have you behaved in the house of God with that reverence due to his holy Character. Have you wasted any part of holy time by idle conversation, light reading, or sloth.

Have you wasted any time during the week. Have you shown decent and respectful behaviour to those who have the charge over you. Your parents, elders, Brothers and sisters, teachers, domestics, the aged, or people who are older then yourself. Have you been patient in acquiring your lessons. Have you been polite and good humored to your Companions. Have you been modest in your deportment not boistrous or rude. Have you spoken the truth as all tho it were to your hurt. Have you used the name of God irreverently or spoken any thing which is a brief of the third Commandment. Have you spoken any indecent word or by any action discovered a want of true feminine delicacy. Have you been neat in your person, made no unnecessary trouble by carelessness in your chamber or with your clothes. Have you torn your clothes, books, or maps. Have you wasted paper, quills, or any other articles. Have you walked out without liberty. Have you combed your hair with a fine tooth comb, and cleaned your teeth every morning. Have you eaten any green fruit during the week.

1815–1816.
CATHERINE CEBRA WEBB—HER DIARY.

Catherine Cebra Webb was born at 84 Beekman Street, New York City, January 25, 1801, _Daughter of Orange Webb_ (a shipping merchant of the firm of Webb and Lamb, corner Pearl Street and Burlington Slip, and ruling elder in the Old Brick Church) and _Elizabeth Cebra_ (daughter of Mr. James Cebra, of the Custom House).

Catherine Cebra Webb entered Miss Pierce’s school in the summer of 1815, and boarded at first in the family of Lyman Beecher, until Mrs. Beecher’s death, and then with the Misses Edwards on North Street, nearly opposite the school. Catherine remained only a few months in Litchfield,—the climate proving too severe for her. July 20, 1818, she married Mr. Rensselaer Havens (a shipping merchant of the firm of Perkins and Havens, 198 Front Street, New York City, and ruling elder in the Old Brick Church for thirty years). Mrs. Havens has had eight children, nineteen grandchildren, and twenty four great-grandchildren. She has lived since 1873 in Stamford, Connecticut, and is now in her ninety-sixth year.

Frances Maria Webb, an older sister of Catherine Cebra Webb, also attended Miss Pierce’s school about 1810 or 1811, and met there Alexander Garden Fraser, of Beaufort, South Carolina, a student in Judge Gould’s Law School. Frances M. Webb was born June 5, 1796, and married Alexander G. Fraser, June 5, 1812. Frances M. Webb (Mrs. Fraser) died in Edinburgh, August 5, 1847. She has four children still living.

I left New York, Wednesday, July 11^{th}, 1816, for Litchfield, to
enter Miss Pierce’s school. I took a steamboat to New Haven, and went
by stage from there to Litchfield. The Rev. Mr. Stockton, a friend of
my Father’s, took me up.

I went to board in the family of D^r Lyman Beecher, but stayed there
only three weeks, as his wife was so ill they could not have the care
of boarders. Miss Catherine Beecher and a Miss Burr, presided over the
family. D^r Beecher had a room in the attic for his Study. I had a
room with two Misses Wakeman, who were also pupils at Miss Pierce’s
school. Catherine Beecher had to send a report every Saturday of the
_conduct_ of the young ladies in her family, to Miss Pierce.

When Mrs. Beecher’s illness obliged me to leave there, they got
another boarding place for me across the street, with the Misses
Edwards—two sisters—Miss Nancy and Miss Betsey.

They were very religious women; and as the Sabbath began then at
sunset on Saturday, we had to hurry to get our letters from the
postoffice, and be back before the sun went down. After supper, the
Sabbath began with religious exercises—reading of the Bible and
prayer—Sunday we all went to D^r Beecher’s church. On one occasion,
some of Judge Gould’s law students were talking during the sermon,
when D^r Beecher paused, and looking at the square pew at the right of
the pulpit, (where Judge Gould’s pupils sat) said, “I will suspend my
remarks until those young gentlemen have finished their conversation.”

There were no Sunday schools in those days. On returning from church,
all we had for our dinner was a piece of pie and a mug of milk, as the
Misses Edwards considered it wrong to cook on Sunday. We went to an
afternoon service, then had a simple tea, and when the sun went down
Sunday was over; but we had prayers and went to bed.

School began at nine o’clock, and closed at noon for an hour’s recess,
when we went home for our dinner and came back; but I cannot remember
how long it kept in the afternoon—whether it was three or four
o’clock—

Miss Waite taught me music, and I went into the back parlor of Miss
Pierce’s _residence_, to take my lesson on the piano. I remember “The
Battle of Wagram” was one of my pieces. I had a very handsome
paint-box which my father had imported from England for me, and I took
drawing lessons at Miss Pierce’s, but I cannot recall the teacher’s
name.

I did not stay long at Litchfield, as I was a delicate girl, and it
was so very cold my Mother was afraid to have me stay. I came home in
the Autumn, I remember when D^r Beecher’s wife died. Her name was
Roxana Foote; and I heard D^r Beecher preach her funeral sermon,
standing in the little tub pulpit, while her coffin stood below it.

Miss Pierce had a nephew, John Pierce Brace, who lived, I think, next
door to Miss Pierce’s, and he taught _every day_ in the school.

Miss Mary Pierce did not teach; _only Miss Sarah_, She was of medium
height, rather fine looking and dignified, and very religious. We had
school every day; only, it seems to me that on Wednesday and Saturday
we had a half-holiday.

Among the pupils was a Miss Catherine L. Webb, from Cooperstown,
(sister of James Watson Webb)—two Misses Farnham from
Massachusetts—Miss Phebe Conklin from Poughkeepsie—two Misses Sanford
from Jamestown (N. Y.)—and Miss Emmeline Beebe from Connecticut. (She
was the one who told Miss Pierce she could not study because the girls
kept up such a “cessation” through the room.) There was also a Miss
Caroline Delafield, who lived at her Uncle’s, Gen’l Tallmadge’s,[41]
and came to certain recitations only.

Old Grove Catlin kept the Hotel in Litchfield, and had a daughter
Flora, who was quite a belle. The law students used to quiz him about
his daughter’s popularity, and he said, “Yes, my daughter Flora is
assassinated most every night” (meaning _serenaded_)—He also said he
wore his old fashioned watch seal “for the antipathy of the thing,”
(meaning _antiquity_)—D^r Beecher had two colored servants named
Zillah and Priscilla—I remember their grinding the coffee for
breakfast. There was a large sink in the kitchen, and a couple of
basins, and we had to go there to wash—It was the only place—so of
course we could not take much of a bath—which was a great trial to me.

While I was at D^r Beecher’s, the Rev. Mr. Nettleton, the revivalist,
came to visit him, and I remember their drinking cider and pearlash
with their breakfast.

CAROLINE CHESTER—HER DIARY—EXTRACTS FROM HER COMMONPLACE BOOK.

Caroline Chester was born in Hartford, Connecticut, 1801, married John Knickerbocker, 1824, and died at Troy, New York, 1870. She was fifteen years old when she attended the school.

DIARY.

_Nov. 30, 1815._ I left Hartford at eight in the morning and arrived
at Litchfield about four, had very pleasant company, Mr. and Mrs.
Wheeler of Hartford, and her niece, Mr. Catlin of Litchfield, and
several other gentlemen whom I did not know. It rained constantly
almost the whole day. West Hartford was the first place we passed
through, it is a very pleasant place though a small one. Farmington is
much larger, and as we passed through Main street I saw it to the best
advantage. Burlington is a small place consisting of a few houses, one
store, a blacksmith’s shop, a post office and one meeting house.
Harwinton the last town (until we reach Litchfield) is much pleasanter
than Burlington, here we left four of our passengers. After riding
over many a long hill we arrived at Litchfield which agreeably
surprised me. Went immediately to Mrs. Sheldon’s where for the first
time I saw her and Miss Lucy.

PL. XXVIII.—CAROLINE CHESTER

_b._ January 26, 1801. _m._ June 2, 1825. _d._ April 20, 1869
]

_Dec. 1st._ Spent the evening at Miss Wood’s upon condition that I
would not visit again for a week. Saturday was spent as usual in
studying, sewing and hearing instruction. Mr. Beecher visited the
school. I was very much pleased, his doctrine is plain and easy to
understand.

_Dec. 19th._ It is one of Miss Pierce’s rules to have her scholars
rise before sunrise and Dr. Swift observes “That he never knew any man
come to greatness and eminence who lay in bed of a morning.” It is
known that in the 14th century in England and France, people rose much
earlier than they do now, and I read yesterday that Buffon said that
he was indebted to one of his domestics for ten or a dozen of his
works, because he had promised him a crown whenever he would wake him
at six and he succeeded in his attempts. Czar Peter a famous
philosopher used to rise to see the morning break, and used to say
that “he wondered how man could be so stupid as not to rise to see the
most glorious sight in the universe; that they took delight in looking
at a beautiful picture, the trifling work of a mortal, but neglected
one painted by the hand of the Deity.” Dr. Doddridge says that the
difference it would make if a person should rise at five or seven for
the space of forty years, supposing him to go to bed at the same hour
of night, is nearly equivalent to the addition of ten years.

_Dec. 20th._ Called for Hannah Wolcott, and at her mamma’s request she
took me to her Uncle Wolcott’s house. It is elegantly furnished. He
has in his sitting room pictures of six old venerable gentlemen, a
picture painted by his daughter, and a print. In his library are two
large bookcases filled with books, likenesses of his wife, mother,
father, daughter and her husband Mr. Gibbs. In his drawing-room are
several large prints from Homer’s Iliad, the battle of Bunker’s Hill
and death of General Montgomery, a large print called Marc Antony,
three or four landscapes painted by Mrs. Gibbs and many others. Hannah
showed me some Chinese curios, two men one holding two small boxes of
tea, and the other, a curious looking personage, a Chinese woman, a
pair of ladies and men shoes, stone cut in various shapes, Ivory
globes made in the most elegant manner, a number of boxes, six or
seven figures made of plaster of Paris, some baskets, and a beautiful
collection of shells.

_Dec. 27th._ Miss Mary Hooker, Miss Burr, Miss Reeves and Miss Beecher
at tea. In the evening heard a long letter read from Mr. H. Sheldon.
He wrote that he had visited the catacombs and asked his guide if
Bonaparte had ever been there, he said “No, Bonaparte had never
expressed any desire to be with the dead.”

_Jan. 1, 1816._ Went to school with a determination to improve all in
my power, recited in History without a mistake, in the afternoon I
went to Mr. Bradley’s tavern in a sleigh with Hannah Huntington, John
and Mr. O. Wolcott, W. T. and Mary. Had a most delightful ride,
returned with Hannah to tea, in the evening took a sleigh ride and
returned home about nine. Had a great many wishes that I might have a
Happy New Year.

_Jan. 2._ After school returned home with Louisa Seymour, and drank
tea with her and enjoyed myself extremely. Mrs. Seymour is a very fine
woman and endeavored to have our time pass agreeably. I almost froze
returning home, for the cold was excessive.

_Thursday._ After school took a walk with Margaret Hopkins of
Philadelphia. I am very much pleased with her, she is not only
beautiful, but amiable, kind, generous and sweet tempered. Dr. Fowler
drank tea at Dr. Sheldon’s and staid through the night. After studying
an hour I went to Mr. Brace’s where I spent the evening most agreeably
and saw a plenty of butterflies and spiders. I returned home about
nine, attended family prayers and retired to my room.

_Thursday._ I rose as usual early and exercised, knit and mended my
school frock, when it was finished, the cow bell announced that I must
prepare for school. * * * Mr. Brace commenced school as usual by
reading a portion of Scripture, and prayer. * * * After school I
called at Mrs. Wolcott’s, Mrs. Reeves’, and called and gave Mary
Deming some of Eliza Royce’s wedding cake. * * * * In the evening I
drank tea at Mrs. Deming’s with Miss F. Catlin who is the most
beautiful woman in Litchfield, Mary Wells cousin to Mrs. Hudson, she
unites to a lovely face all those pleasing qualities which delight and
attach and make us love and admire, the two Misses Buel and Miss
Landon with several of the students. * * * * The afternoon was spent
very pleasantly at Mrs. Aaron Smith’s with her niece Mary, the Misses
Hopkins from Philadelphia, Miss Wadsworth from Montreal, Miss Rockwell
from Albany and Miss Lewis who resides in Litchfield. * * * The
evening was spent very pleasantly in reading a letter from Mr. Henry
Sheldon to his sister Lucy. He wrote that he had seen the ascension of
two balloons, and that the French surpassed all other people in
sublime trifles, that the first ascended in a very fine evening,
covered with lamps, conveying a man named Augustine, who was afterward
found at some distance from Paris almost frozen to death. The next, he
wrote was much the most interesting as it conveyed a young heroine of
20 or 25. She cut the cords to her frail bark and every heart ached,
while she ascended so far in the air that she was hardly perceived.
She suffered no injury and was afterward presented to the King. * * *
Hannah Wolcott, Helen Peck, Margaret and Adela Hopkins came and staid
about an hour.

_Monday._ Rose at an early hour and took a long but pleasant walk with
Mary. At school I recited a lesson in Sacred History and had the
pleasure to hear Miss Pierce say I had said a most excellent lesson.
In the afternoon I learnt in my Blair that poetry is the language of
passion, or of enlivened imagination, formed most commonly into
regular numbers. I also learnt that a person who composed a letter
must write with ease and familiarity, simplicity, sprightliness and
wit. Our lesson was very interesting and I recited without a mistake,
but it fully convinced me that I was not born with a genius for letter
writing. After school took a delightful walk with Mary and Charlotte
Storrs. Went with dear Theodosia Devaux who is from Camden, S,
Carolina to see Harriot Kirby. * * * Went with Mary to take tea with
Clarissa Seymour. C. Marsh, E. Welch, E. Storrs and L. Seymour were
there. I spent my time very pleasantly. In the evening we recited
anecdotes, one was—A man who kept an ale house by a pound was
frequently visited by the students who wrote over the door “Ale by the
pound.” The Proctor of the university unwilling to have them visit it,
complained to the Vice Chancellor who ordered the ale keeper to appear
before him. This request was readily complied with, but as soon as he
entered the room began spitting and clearing his throat, the Vice
Chancellor asked why he did so, he replied—Sir I came here to clear
myself. Well how do you do, asked the Vice Chancellor. Very well I
thank you. Go! says the Vice Chancellor for an impudent villain. He
left him and meeting the Proctor who had complained of him, he told
him the Vice Chancellor wished to see him. He went, and the ale keeper
spoke and said, Sir you bid me go for an impudent villain and I have
brought you one of the worst I ever knew.

_Friday._ Mrs. Wolcott called and very politely asked Mrs. Sheldon to
permit me to take tea with her and Miss Cook, a niece of hers from
Danbury for whom she had made the party (I was at school) Mrs. Sheldon
gave her permission and I went. Though Mrs. Wolcott was the only
married woman in the room, yet no one would have thought her the
oldest for she looked very beautiful. The party was large. Some of the
ladies were—both the Misses Catlin, Miss Hooker, Reeves, Kirby,
Sanford, Beecher, Devaux, Lord, Landon, Burr and the two Misses Buel.
When the clock struck nine, the girl was carrying round the wine, and
I too well knew if I was not at home, the family would be displeased.
I spoke to the lady who sat next to me and said I must go, and she
said it would be extremely improper in her opinion for me who was the
youngest in the room to go first, because if I went, all would go. At
about half past nine Miss Burr rose to go, and all the company
followed her example. It was very cold and as I crossed the green, the
wind blew and I thought, what can be keener? but I found when I
reached home that a keener blast awaited me, a blast which will never
no never be erased from my memory. I opened the door with a trembling
hand, no one was in the room, but soon Dr. came. My heart throbbed
violently, and he said—why are you home at this late hour? I told my
excuse, he interrupted me by saying that it was but a poor excuse,
that I might as well have come as not, for it would have been
perfectly proper if I had only been five years old. He concluded by
saying that if I ever staid out again he certainly would lock the door
if it was after nine. I looked round for a candle but there was none.
I asked for one and he said if I wished one I might go up stairs and
get one. I spoke and said, Sir I can go to bed in the dark, he made no
objection. As I went up stairs I wept as a child and wished I was at
home with those friends whom I so dearly dearly loved. Mary was asleep
and I thought I should have frozen before I undressed myself, and thus
did I pay for my whistle. The party was pleasant but the scolding was
not, and sincerely did I wish I had not gone——

CAROLINE CHESTER—HER COMMONPLACE BOOK.[42]

A blush
Like the last beam of evening thrown
On a white cloud just seen and gone

The words of Schenadoah an Indian chief who died lately aged one
hundred and thirteen, at Oneida

I am, an aged hemlock; the winds of an hundred years have blown
through its branches; it is dead at the top. Those who began life with
me have run away from me: Why I am suffered to remain God best knows.

M. W. PECK.

Your own luminous nature surrounds you and seeing through that, you
fancy objects bright which only reflect your beams.

S. A. E. V.... N

Written on the collar of a dog belonging to the Prince of Wales,

I am his highness dog at Kew,
Pray tell me Sir, whose dog are you?

There is no duty, there is no pleasure, there is no sentiment, which
does not borrow from enthusiasm—I know not what charm, which is still
in perfect unison with the simple beauty of Truth.

A deity believed is joy began,
A deity adored is joy advanced,
A deity beloved is joy matured.
Your friend L. M. B.

“He who breathes must suffer
He who thinks must mourn.”

With quotations from Thomas Moore, Young, Pope, Cooper, Milton, Ossian, Byron, Homer, Savage, Michael Angelo, Bishop Horne, Shakespeare, Cicero, Hannah More.

To a Stone from the island of “the Lady of the Lake”—given by a friend
who had visited Loch Katrine.

Thou little brown stone: Ah what hast thou seen
Since the floods roll’d thee up on your island so green,
How many vast ages have travelled thee o’er.
Like wave after wave on thy Lake girdled shore;
How altered are all things; while thou art alone,
Unaltered, unchanged, the same little brown stone,
How many vast trees, have sprung where you lay,
Have grown up, and flourished and mouldered away,
How long was the time, when the deers tread alone,
Tore the branches away which thy Lake had o’ergrown,
When the eagle, alone woke the echo that slept,
On the mountains around, which thy paradise kept,
Ah! what has’t thou seen, since man sway’d thy shore,
Saw’st thou the first boat which that plunderer bore,
Well has’t thou mark’d every change he has made,
Since he first drove thy deer from their far spreading shade,
Wast thou their when fair Ellen first walk’d on thy shore,
Did’st thou see thy proud waves as the Pine flag they bore,
Did’st thou hear the loud shout of the Saxon’s afar,
And saw’st thou thy clan as they fell in the war,
Or has thy fair Lake never heard the war cry,
Sounding shrill as the bird of thy own native sky,
Is it fiction alone that endears thee to us,
If Scott had not sung, should we feel towards thee thus,
No: thou little brown stone—alone on thy shore,
Thou still would’st have listened to Loch Katrine’s roar,
Unheeded thy heath bell might bloom on thy isle;
And thy Lakelet unlov’d in the sunbeams bright smile,
And the cushat-doves notes, as in days that are past,
Sound back to thy moss rocks the deer hunters blast,
How great is thy power then, thou bard of the north,
When thou giv’st to a pebble a diamonds worth,
When a little brown stone from the Loch Katrine’s shore,
Is valued by us more than crystals or ore,

Sept. 4. 1816——

Composed by Mr. J. P. Brace.
my teacher at Litchfield Conn.
and written here by himself.—

AN OCTOBER EVENING.

The setting sun now shuts the day,
His face no vapors cloak,
No gold-tinged cloud around him play,
His last rays smile not, cheer not, now.
But with a stern and bloody brow,
He wades through seas of smoke.

No blushing beams the path unfold,
In which the monarch treads;
A path where once the living gold,
Fringed every deep with gold with fire
And bade night’s eastern studs retire
Nor show their star crowned heads,

Where once the rosy twilight blushed,
Upon the dark blue sky
The thick smoke has in anger flushed
And in its dun and moveless clouds
The sun his red face sullen shrouds,
Nor backward turns his eye.

No mists fantastic rise and curl,
Upon the glassy lake
Or on its breast their forms unfurl;
But on its wave the dun cloud lies
Like those which o’er lifes current rise
That hope and joy forsake.

Sear’d is the poplars quivering leaf.
And crisp’d and red the oak
Like life their course as gay and brief;
For always as decay appears
Their gayest robes the forest wears
And smiles at deaths last stroke,