The Pilgrims of New England by Mrs. J. B. Webb (acx book reading .TXT) 📖

always dedicated to charitable purposes. It was his custom, when he received his quarterly payment from the treasurer of the colony, to give away a considerable part of it before he reached his home, so that _Dame_ Elliot--as she was called--only received a very small sum, inadequate to the necessary expenses of her frugal housekeeping. The paymaster knew the good man's peculiarities, and was aware of the domestic embarrassments that his too-liberal bounty often occasioned. He therefore tied the money up in a handkerchief with so many knots, that he was sure the pastor could never untie them; and gave it to him, saying in jest, 'Now really, reverend sir, you must this time give it all to your worthy spouse.' Elliot smiled, and departed: but, before he reached his dwelling, he remembered an afflicted family who stood in need of his assistance and consolation; and, on going to visit them, he found them overwhelmed with unexpected distress. He immediately attempted to open his handkerchief, but all his efforts were unavailing to loosen the complicated knots. 'Well, well,' he said, at last, 'I see it is the will of the Lord that you should have the whole.' And, giving them all his wealth, he returned home penniless.

Dame Elliot never showed any displeasure at these improvident acts of her husband. She admired and respected his pious motives, and his beautiful spirit of self-denial: and she only strove the more to limit her expenses, and to make their home cheerful and comfortable with the scanty means she possessed, while she willingly conformed to the life of extreme simplicity which he felt it right to adopt. More than one dish was never allowed to appear on his table, and water was his only beverage. If wine was offered him at the house of a friend, he courteously declined, but never blamed in others the indulgence which he denied to himself. He used to say, 'Wine is a precious, noble thing, and we should thank the Lord for it; but to suit me aright, water should rather be there.'

Such were the Christian pair who came to attend the wedding of Edith and Roger; and to offer their congratulations on the event, and their prayers that it might tend to the present and the eternal happiness of their valued friend and his interesting bride. It could not be otherwise than that Dame Elliot and Edith should form a speedy and a lasting friendship. There was a similarity of feeling, and a difference of character, that rendered them peculiarly agreeable to each other; and made them mutually rejoice in the prospect of future intercourse which the strong regard that subsisted between Elliot and Williams, and the nearness of Salem to Roxburgh, promised to afford them. The young matron was of a much more calm and subdued temperament than her new friend. Her early life and education had been very different from Edith's; and the man on whom she had fixed her affections, and the mode of life to which her marriage had conducted her, had alike tended to promote a quiet composure, and steady regulation of mind, rather than to arouse the enthusiastic feelings and the lively fancies that distinguished Edith's character, and which had proved so irresistible a charm to the fervid soul of Williams. But each of the young women was well adapted to the lot which Providence had assigned them; and each proved a blessing, and a support through life, to their respective partners.

But little preparation was required for the Puritan nuptials that were now about to be celebrated: and little gaiety or display was manifested on the occasion. According to the custom of the sect, the marriage ceremony was performed by Bradford, as the chief civil magistrate, and the personal friend of the family. At that period, marriage was regarded as a mere civil act; and either the magistrate of the place, or a commissary appointed for the purpose, was alone required by law to officiate. If a clergyman chanced to be present, he was generally requested to offer up a prayer, or even to deliver a suitable discourse to the, parties; but this was a matter of choice, and not of necessity, and had no share in the validity of the ceremony. Even the wedding ring had already begun to be regarded by the Plymouthers as a relic of Popish corruption and superstition, and was, in many cases, dispensed with, and some time afterwards formally forbidden. But on this occasion it was retained, at the wish of both Edith and her mother; who were accustomed to regard it as a beautiful, and almost a sacred, symbol of the purity and the duration of the holy tie of marriage.

On the appointed day, the civil rite was duly and solemnly performed by the Governor, in the presence of a few chosen friends, among whom none felt more interest in the future welfare of the young bride than the venerable William Brewster. Although he was not a regular minister, he was invited by Rodolph and Helen to offer up a prayer for the temporal and eternal happiness of their beloved child, and fervently and eloquently the old man complied with their request: and tears of affection and anxiety glistened in his eyes as he concluded his prayer, and added his own heartfelt blessing to that which he had asked from Heaven.

Elliot then delivered a powerful and impressive address to the young married couple, on their social and domestic, as well as their spiritual duties; and a simple, but well-arranged repast at Rodolph's house completed the ceremonies of the day.

It was about this time that the marriage of Henrich and Oriana was celebrated in the distant wilderness, where all the outward circumstances were so different, and where no prescribed forms could be observed, to render the simple ceremony legal or impressive. And, yet, surely it was as sacred and as binding to those who then plighted their faith to each other as if it had been performed with all the rites of civilized life. The vows of Henrich and his Christian bride were made in the presence of that God who instituted marriage, and hollowed it; and they were sanctified by the 'prayer of faith,' which rises as freely, and as acceptably, from the wilderness as from the stately cathedral. Had Edith and her much-loved brother known that their earthly fate was thus being decided so nearly at the same period, how would the supplications which they offered for themselves have been mingled with prayers for the happiness of one another!

A brief sojourn in her much-loved home was allowed to Edith after her marriage; and then she gladly, but tearfully, left her parents, to share the fortunes of him who would be more to her than father, or mother, or brother, or sister, could be. The pinnace that belonged to the colony was appointed by the Governor to convey Roger and his bride to Massachusetts Bay, and land them as near as possible to their new home in Salem; and thus Edith was spared the fatigue and difficulty of a long and toilsome journey through the woods and the wilderness by land. She was kindly and joyfully welcomed by her husband's friends and admirers, who were already disposed to regard her with favor, and who soon learnt both to love and respect her for her own many amiable and estimable qualities.


CHAPTER XX.

'She was a woman of a steadfast mind, Tender and deep in her excess of love.'

The life of peace and tranquillity which Roger and his young bride enjoyed in their new home, was not long permitted to be their happy lot. The apprehensions that had been felt by Edith's anxious parents, were but too soon realized; and, notwithstanding all the good advice that he received at Plymouth, and all his own sincere resolutions to avoid, if possible, all future disputes with the elders or the Boston Church, Roger Williams again became the object of their persecuting intolerance.

The fact of his being again invited to Salem to assist the pastor, was regarded as extremely offensive to the government of Boston: but when Shelton died very shortly after Roger's arrival, and he was elected to be the regular minister of the congregation, it was looked upon as a sinful defiance of lawful authority, and one which demanded exemplary punishment. An opportunity for this exercise of power soon occurred. The township of Salem lain claim to a certain disputed piece of land, and addressed a petition to the government of Massachusetts, in which they demanded to be put in possession of it. But in consequence of the recent act of the community with regard to Roger Williams's election, the claim was unjustly rejected. The Salemers then, by the advice of their pastor, wrote to all the other churches in the Bay, and requested them to unite in a remonstrance to the government. This act was in perfect accordance with the spirit of the puritanical principles, which distinctly separated the church from the state; and it ought not, therefore, to have given offence to any one. But their practice differed greatly from their theory; and the feeling against Williams was so strong that all the churches--the elders of which were opposed to his opinions--now took part with the government of Boston against him.

This treatment so irritated the warm feelings of Williams, and so keenly wounded his sense of justice and love of liberty, that he required the Church of Salem to renounce all connection with the other congregations; and even went so far as to refuse all intercourse with his own church until this separation was agreed to. But strongly as the Salemers were attached to their pastor, they could not consent to so decisive a measure as he demanded; and, being vexed and dispirited by the general disapprobation which their conduct had excited in the rest of the colony, the greatest part of the congregation fell away from him.

This desertion grieved the heart of the zealous minister but it did not discourage him, or subdue his determined spirit. He began to hold spiritual meetings at his own house, which were attended by those members of the church who fully concurred in his views, and who considered that he had been treated with injustice. This proceeding naturally aroused a strong party spirit in the town, and even threatened to produce a permanent division in the church, as the followers of Williams held themselves entirely aloof from the rest of the congregation.

Deeply did Edith lament this unhappy state of affairs. Her devotion to her noble-minded husband, and the natural tendency of her own mind, led her to sympathize entirely in his opinions and feelings; and her strong sense of right and wrong caused her to condemn the injustice of the government, and the weak, truckling spirit of the sister-churches. But her judgement was more calm and dispassionate than that of Roger, and her temper far less excitable. She therefore saw the impropriety, as well as the danger, of, causing a schism in the church; and she used all her powerful influence to induce her husband to give up these irregular assemblies; and, without compromising his own opinions, to endeavor to ward off the enmity of the men of Boston.

She earnestly besought him again to leave the Congregation of Salem-- the greater portion of which had already deserted him and his cause-- and to return to Plymouth, where a safe and a happy home might yet be afforded to them, and where no persecution for conscience' sake, need be feared. But all her arguments and her persuasions were alike ineffectual. On this one point she found her Roger firm and inflexible--for on this point he felt that his honor and his conscience were