>*.■>? K t u ADDRESS TO THE MEMBERS OF THE jfteWmacfc Humane ^ocietp, AT THEIR ANNUAL MEETING IN NEWBURYPORT, Sept. 2, 1806. By SAMUEL CARY. Gratum est, quod patriae civem populoque dedisti. Juv. Nulla re homines propius accedunt ad Deos, quam salutem hominibus dando. ^IC' NEWBURYPORT : EDMUND M. BLUNT, PRINTER. 180o\ TO THE PRESIDENT, VICE-PRESIDENT, and TRUSTEES OF THE MERRIMACK HUMANE SOCIETY, €f)te performance, WRITTEN AND PUBLISHED AT THEIR REQUEST, IS RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED. At a special meeting of the Trustees of the Merri- mack Humane Society, Sept. 2, 1806, VOTED, That Micajah Sawyer, William Coombs, and Ebenezer Stocker, Esquires, be a committee to present the thanks of the Trustees to Mr. Sa3iuelCary, for the excellent address deliv- ered by him before the society, at their anniversary meeting* this day, and to request a copy for the pr^s. Attest, Wm. Wo art. rec. sec. aWJTCSB* AMONG the many fanciful theo- ries, which owe their existence to hope of dis- tinction, or love of singularity, is the opinion that the influence of learning is prejudicial to human happiness ; and that improvement should always be discouraged, because it is the parent of envy, emulation, and disappointment. If any person is willing to credit these asser- tions, let him quit speculation for a moment, and attend to the history of the world. Let liim remark the effect of different habits and feelinos on the human character, and he will be convinced, with all the wise and the good, that to the influence of the sciences in connexion 6 v/Ai religion, we are indebted for all t1 : prin- ciples, which excite ns to enterprise, or soiten ns to -humanity. For the truth of this conclusion we may appeal to the present age, whicn is equally re- markable for its progress in improvement, and for the zeal, with which the cause of humanity has been defended and promoted. There is no period within the memory of man, when the al- leviation of human wretchedness has been so generally and so professedly the leading princi- ples of every sect and speculation. Whatever may have been the views of some writers, or the ten I ^ cy of their positions, they have at least affected to fall in with the popular sentiment; and the most absurd notions in literature, m politics, and religion, have been sheltered un- der the spreading mantle of universal philan- thropy. This habit of keeping the good of mankind constr.nt.ly in view has not ended in contemplation,but has been the source of much actual and extensive benefit. Hence have - originated the many charitable associations, which have thrown a beam of light and cheer- fulness upon the gloomy dominions of poverty and of sorrow. 2s o species of misery is aban- 7 doned or neglected. No state of human de- pression is so desperate, that it may not find in some benevolent institution a refuge from con- tempt, or the means of being useful. It is easy to trace these effects to the more liberal and correct notions, which arc now en- tertained of the principles of knowledge as well as of duty. At the most brilliant sera of anci- ent learning, we observe no similar disposition to lessen the number of human miseries ; be- cause the maxims of right conduct, that were then adopted, were derived from a philosophy, which taught that virtue and personal happi- ness were synpnimous terms; and that charity should be confined to the little circle of individ- ual benefit. The roughness of succeeding ages was still less favorable to the cause of humani- ty. That proud ferocity of character which kn-w no pleasure but in achievements .of he- roism, and relished no musick but the voice of the trumpet and the din of arms, could not sof- ten into pity at the sight of distress, nor would it stoop to meliorate the condition of the indi- gent and the helpless. It was not possible that men, who were constantly occupied in adjust- in^ hisjh claims and the niceties of prerogative, 8 should find leisure or inclination to bend at the altar of that heavenly virtue, which " seck- eih not her own." Beside this general effect of knowledge * upon the state of society, the particular discov- eries, which belong to modern times, have con- ferred upon the world inestimable advantages. The art of healing is distinguished above all others for the number, the extent, and the im- portance of its improvements. The knowledge of the ancients on this subject, notwithstanding the celebrity of a few names, was full of erro- neous principles, and clogged by superstition. Theories, which experience has shewn to be false and injurious, were received with all the confidence of demonstrated truths ; and the application of remedies was often more influ- enced by omens than by the nature of the dis- ease. What discovery of ancient anatomists deserves to be named with that of the circula- tion of the blood ; or where in the catalogue of their apothegms, is to be found a truth so in- teresting and important, as that the principle of life may linger in the body, when all motion is apparently at an end ? Indeed this latter discovery alone is suf- ficient to demonstrate, that the state of man- kind has been meliorated by the influence of learning. It was formerly admitted as an ax- iom, that death entered the human frame at the moment, when respiration was suspended. When the organs of sense were no longer suscep- tible of impression, when the lungs had ceased to discharge their office, the heart to beat, and the limbs were cold and lifeless; it was firmly believed that all efforts to recover them would be rash and useless: Art, it was imagined, might lend its aid to preserve the yet animated frame; it might assist the efforts of distressed nature to free itself from oppression ; it might expel from the body a cruel and malignant dis- ease. But to rekindle the eye, which had lost its lustre, to restore the glow of health and vi- gor to the countenance, on which death had stamped his image, was only in the power of Him, who created it. * Physicians had never imagined, that their art could be applied with any hope of success to a corpse exhibiting what they had been taught to consider as the certain marks of dissolution. "When therefore these n 10 signs were perceived, the body was deserted, a3 beyond the reach of human assistance. The consequences were dreadful. Multitudes were thus given to the shocking state of premature interment. The parent, the child, and the friend, were committed to the grave by their weeping relatives, when an effort of well direct- ed benevolence might have restored them to society. It is now understood that the powers of life do not necessarily suppose the action of the vital organs ; and consequently that acci- dents, which produce the usual appearance of death and an obstruction of all the circulations of the body, may not destroy the animating principle. To bring this great truth into the most effectual and extensive operation, Hu- mane Societies have been instituted in almost all the countries of Europe, and also in our own; and their exertions have been attended by the most unexpected and astonishing success.* * The discovery, which led to the establishment of Humane Societies, was communicated to the Medical Society of Edinburgh by Dr. John Fothergill, an em- inent aud excellent physician of London, in a paper published by them about the year 1^47. It was entitled, " Observations on the recovery of a man dead in appearance ;" and the writer maintained the possibility, by a certain mode Of treatment, of saviiiS many, who might be considered a* absolutely dead. It u as n The Merrimack Humane Society is the most recent of these benevolent establishments. Animated by the example of others, you have associated, gentlemen, for the promotion of an object, which will forever shed lustre upon the age in which we live ; which aims to destroy the influence of the long and horrid train of human calamities ; and which enlists in its ser- vice all those generous feelings, that adorn and dignify the human character. intended to excite the attention of the public to the danger of burying as soon as the body became cold, and breathing was at an end. But the scheme was considered as absurd and impossible; and the subject of course fell to the ground. It was not tilt the year 1767 that experiments of this theory were undertaken. Instances of restoration took place first in Switzerland.and were communicated to the Academy of Sciences at Paris by M, Reauirtur, the* celebrated physiologist. Soon after this publication, some benevolent gentlemen of Amsterdam, sensible of the utility of the plan, and particularly in a.country intersected with canals established a society in that city with a view of making extensive experiments. Their efforts were so successful, that tbe plan of the society was.extended through the seven United Provinces. In 1768 the magistrates at Milan and Venice published orders for the relief of drowned per- sons. The next year the example was followed by the Empress of Germany. The Humane Society.at Paris was founded in 1771, Two years a/terward Dr. Cogan of London translated into English the reports of the society at Amsterdam, to show the utility of the design.; and in the following year, this gentleman, in conjunction with Drs. Hawes, Lettsom, and others, founded the Royal Humane Society of Lor- don. The institution, notwithstanding the importance of its object, was discouraged and ridiculed by the ignoiant, the incredulous and the malicious, who treated their pretensions, as equivalent to a scheme for raising the dead. But the opposition waj soon silenced: by some wonderful instances of resuscitation, and the society was followed by others in all the principal cities in England. It was taken under the patronage of the king; and was endowed with liberal benefactions from, the com- mon council of London, and with large private subscriptions. The number of per- sons restored to life by this single society, is about three thousand ! The insti* tution is now established in almost every part of the civilized world ; and has a right, from the greatness of its objects, and the astonishing success, which has followed its operations, to stand at the head of all charitable associations. It deserves to be par- ticularly noticed, that a Humane Society has been established in Algiers. The Sjeems of humanity have penetrated even to that barbarous and' inhospitable country. $'_(.' Transactions of the Royal Humane Society, published by Dr. Hawes, Lettsuhi i Life of' Fothergill.-Ike* I* We are now assembled to celebrate the fourth anniversary of this noble institution. In performing the office, which you have done me the honor to asign me on this occa- sion, I shall be permited to wave for the pres- ent the general topic of benevolence, which has been most amply and eloquently treated by the gentlemen, who have proceeded me, and to confine myself to the precise objects of your institution. This method, though it may not suffer me to introduce a novel sentiment, may yet serve to throw some faint light upon princi- ples, which, since the society is yet new in this place, may not be generally understood ; and may serve also to recommend it to the liberali- ty of this numerous and respectable assembly. The leading object of the society is the recovery of persons apparently dead, whether this appearance is occasioned by submersion^ suffocation by noxious vapors or the cord, by the stroke of lightening, by cold, or other caus- es, which do not essentially injure the principle of life. Instances of these various species of calamity are constantly occurring ; and it is in the power of the institution to be infinitely ser- is viceable by diffusing intelligence of the proper methods of treatment and restoration. But its immediate exertions are directed to the recov- ery of the drowned, an accident rendered ex- tremely common by the situation of this town. Stretched as it is along the margin of a beauti- ful river,which constantly allures us to venture upon it by its convenience for the purposes of business, or by the charming scenery and fine views, which every where present themselves, the necessity of such an institution is readily perceived. The rules for the recovery of the drown- ed, which you, gentlemen, have adopted and sanctioned, are founded on a multitude ofsne^ cessful experiments. But the art of reanima- tion is still imperfect; and much room is left for new ideas and greater improvements. There are two points, which have divided the opinions of physicians, and are at this moment regarded as of doubtful expediency. I allude to the use of the lancet and of the electric fluid in the pro- cess of recovery. The former of these methods was employed by the Humane Society of Hol- land, and was admitted into the English sys- 14 tem of rules without examination or doubt of its utility. The danger resulting from it was speedily discovered, and it was deemed neces- sary to enter a solemn caution against it, except in certain specified cases. The practice how- ever is still advocated on the ground, that the immediate cause of death in persons, who have been plunged in water, is an excessive accumu- lation of blood in the vessels of the brain, which takes place after a series of eile^s, that have been particularly described. The com- plaint thus become an apoplexy; and the rem-*. edy as in common cases of this disease, is a dis- charge of blood from the veins of the neck, They, who oppose this opinion, insist that re^ lief should be sought, not in depriving the body of any vital principle, or stimulus, which may exist in the blood, but by the application of powerful excitements to the heart and the lungs. They assure us that the circulation is stopped by the closing of the vessels of the heart, and believe that it may be renewed and the effects of apoplexy, if it exist, be prevented, by such stimulants, as tend to rouse the sleeping principle of animation. It is farther contend-. ed, and the opinion seems to be supported by u decisive experiments,* that if blood be suf- fered to issue from a vein in any considerable quantity, a weakness must necessarily succeed, that will destroy the feeble spark, which lurks in the body, and which other remedies might have blown into a flanie. It is however extremely doubtful whether the cause of death after submersion be in fact an apoplexy ; and therefore venesection, em- ployed for this particular purpose, may at least be useless. It is known that if vital air be excluded from the lungs, the blood will lose by degrees its red color and stimulating qual- ities. And hence it has been concluded, that in submersion life is not endangered by an apo- plexy, but by an injury, which is done to the blood itself. Whatever may be the truth of this conclusion, the facts at least show, that the principle of life, if not actually existing in the blood, may yet be essentially injured by the use of this uncertain remedy. The caution therefore, which has been inserted in the methods of treat- *" In two instances, copious bleeding proved of the most pernicious consequen- ces ; the natural color and genial warmth had returned, but on a few ounces of blood keing taken away, these signs of returning animation were forever extinguished." Tram. Royal H. S. fcient, of never employing it, except by the ad- vice of professional gentlemen, seems equally judicious and humane. The benefit of the electric influence has likewise been disputed. But its advocates are very numerous, and they argue from the neces- sity of exciting the vital powers in this state of inaction. For this purpose it is common to ap- ply friction, the feather, and powerful salts. Electricity is allowed to be the most energetic stimulant, with which we are acquainted, and is indeed the only method, by which the heart can be immediately excited. Other agents, as we are told, have no direct influence but operates by sympathy. It has been made to appear that the electrick fluid, when passing through the heart and lungs, produces a gentle motion or, as it is termed, oscillation of the muscles of the body. It is therefore supposed that it pos- sesses the power of renewing the customary actions of the system. But there is another and, as it should seem, a conclusive argument in favour of elec- tricity as applied to restore the motion of the 17 vital organs. It is acknowledged on both sides that the use of heat is absolutely necessary, and the first object of the operator is to empioy blankets, the heat of a living body, the fire, or the warm bath. Now it is a fact well known to natural philosophers, that there is a strict analogy between the electric principle, and that of heat. This position is established by the ef- fects of each in similar circumstances. It is observed, for example, that heat produces the expansion of metals ; the same thing succeeds the discharge of an electric phial through the bulb of a thermometer. Electricity, as well as heat,has been shewn by some remarkable expe- riments to increase the process of incubation ;* and if it be true, that the human body, in the state of apparent death, is, with- respect to life and motion, exactly in the situation of a sound and perfect egg,-j- it is a fair inference, that the same effects will result from the same applica- tion. * " By the application of electricity in a certain determinate degree to impreg- nated eggs, we are informed that incubation was sj remarkably accelerated that the chicken was hatched in about 48 hours." Dr. Hawes. cit.from Mem. de I'Acad, des Scien. de Berlin, 1788, t Dr. Waterhouse Disc, to Mass. H. S. Boston. 0 18 Further, gentlemen, it is understood by every one, that heat in a living body has the power of accelerating the circulation of the blood, and the same effect is known to succeed a repetition of electrical discharges. It was shown by Mr. Coleman, in his prize disserta- tion for the Royal Humane Society of London, that after submersion the left cavity of the heart is collapsed and emptied of its contents ; and it has since been discovered by experiments upon animals, that the blood near the right auricle, which has lost its florid color, may be forced by the electric fluid into the vacant cavity, and thence into the other veins and arteries, and will recover its original appearance.* The cir- culation by these means is restored, the princi- ple of irritability revived, and with it the pow- ers of consciousness, thought, and pleasure. If this theory be correct, and it wants neither experiments nor authority for its confir- mation, it will follow that electricity should be one of the first remedies in the resuscitation of the drowned. It is proper to remark, that the * See Dr. A. Fothergill's " Enquiry into the suspension of vital action, &c." 19 cautions against powerful shocks are numerous and earnest. It has even been supposed, that all failures in cases, where the vital powers were not destroyed, have been owing to this circum- stance alone. It is therefore concluded, that if moderately applied, the best effects may be ex- pected ; if administered with violence, the oper- ation will terminate in death. I have taken the liberty to make these general observations, gentlemen, with no hope of communicating any new information, but be- cause they seemed within the design of your annual discourse, and because the subject ap- peared worthy the farther consideration of the society. Another object, to which the funds of this society are appropriated, is the assignment of rewards to those persons, whose extraordinary exertions have restored life, or preserved it, when in danger. This practice, notwithstanding the objections, which have been produced against it, seems founded in correct judgment, and in an accurate knowledge of the human character. The records of Humane Societies furnish abund- £0 ant evidence of the utility of honorary testi- monials and rewards. There are instances of restoration, which have been the effect of these inducements to perseverance ; and withoutthem the exertions would have been relinquished in despair. The pleasure arising from an act of charity is undoubtedly a powerful motive to its performance. No tongue indeed can convey to the understanding the satisfaction enjoyed by the friends of humanity, when they have de- livered an apparently lifeless corpse, alive and intelligent, to the embraces of his friends. But this pleasure, from its distance, and refined na- ture, often loses its influence. There are many, who are willing to renounce it, because the means, by which it is acquired, are difficult and wearisome, There are many also, with whom the certainty of immediate recompense is a more powerful consideration than the hope of a reward, which exists only in reflexion. It is not true, as has sometimes been contended, that the common feelings of humanity supersede the necessity of these public institutions. These feelings are often destroyed by the labor of the process of resuscitation, or rendered useless by the want of that infoimation, which it is the • 21 proper business of such societies to obtain 'atnd<$ diffuse. It is not indeed probable, that the un- fortunate stranger, who has fallen in the high- way, chilled by the coldness of the night, or dragged senseless from a neighboring stream, will be abandoned to his fate by unfeeling pas- sengers. But it is probable, that the tedious efforts, which are necessary to recover him, will not be willingly made, nor continued with that unremitting and patient attention, without which success is always hopeless. These great objects of benevolence can only be carried into their proper effect, by associations -devoted to ' them, and by rewards, which stimulate to un- common exertions. It has alwaysjaeen found necessary to adopt this method of pursuing any object, either of science or religion, to its greatest usefulness. Some of the Brightest pro- ductions of genius have been the effect of pub- lic questions and rewards. The art offreanima- tion grew to its present state of improvement, by the nurturing influence of public prizes. They induced men of letters to investigate the subject, and led to the discovery of the truths, which are now adopted, as the foundation of (successful practice. 22 The influence of rewards to excite men to useful actions has been felt and acknowledged by all nations. Hence arose the ancient cus- tom of striking, medals, to commemorate great names and splendid victories. Hence too orig- inated the practice of bestowing public honors on the brave and the virtuous. The most distin- guished of these rewards among the Romans was conferred on liim, whose intrepid valor had preserved the life of a citizen. It was the hope ot this reward, which induced their soldiers to set danger at defiance, that they might save their associates ;—the hope of being hailed, as the benefactors of their country, with the song of gratitude, and the acclamations of joy. And why should not your rewards, gentlemen, pro- duce a similar emulation, a similar zeal in the service of humanity ? Why should not the tes- timonial of the friends of benevolence serve, as an incitement to great exertions, and be the instrument of acquiring a more satisfactory re- compense, in the approbation of the \a art ? If scenes of war and of human misery have been viewed with envy and admiration, shall the deeds of the benevolent and humane be en- titled to no place on the records of honor? If gs the valor of heroes and the desolation of em- pires have been deemed worthy the applause of future ages, shall not a triumph over the con- queror of heroes be perpetuated and admired ? Was it so meritorious to save a Roman citizen from the uplifted weapon of his enemy on the field of battle, that the action was crowned with the noblest reward ; and do they deserve no honorary trophy, who have rescued the prey from the very jaws of the grave, who have snatched a victory from the king of terrors ? The erection of small buildings along the coast, for the relief of shipwrecked seamen, is another of the benevolent objects of this associ- ation. I shall not insult the understandings or the feelings of this audience, by introducing a train of arguments to prove the excellence of this object. It is only necessary to bring to the imagination for one moment, the condition of a mariner, cast in the night upon these com- fortless sands ; and that heart is entitled to our sincerest pity, which does not glow with ardor to assist and relieve him. There is not perhaps in the whole compass of misfortunes, a situa- tion, in which relief is more exquisitely grate- 24 fill. There are many persons in this assembly, who can look back on a life of fatigue and toil upon the ocean, exposed to the rage of " all the winds of heaven/' They can easily comprehend the feelings of a sailor, returning to the land of his nativity, with the hard-earned fruits of industry and of danger. They know the sweet emotions, that steal upon the soul with the first sight of a beloved home, and the eagerness, with which the eye seizes upon the distant prospect, every moment spreading along the horizon. If there is a time, when care and la- bor are forgotten, when hope and joy " reign in every beat of the heart, and beam in every glance of the eye," it is when, the sailor is in view of the place, where friends are waiting to be delighted by his success or protected by his bounty. The reward of his labors seems alrea- dy in his possession. But God sees otherwise. Even in the midst of this confidence and trans- port, the tempest, which no human power can arrest or control, is commissioned to destroy Ihe fruits of his enterprise. The ship is swallowed up in the ocean ; and he is thrown by the vi- olence of the waves upon the desolate shore Faint, exhausted, perishing, he at length 26' reaches the hut, erected by your companion, where the straw bed and the cheerful fire afford more real and perfect comfort, than all the magnificence of wealth and greatness. But I have been informed, gentlemen, that your charitable intentions have been ren- dered ineffectual, by the plunder of these build- ings. Can it be possible, gentlemen, that in a humane and civilized community, there are to be found persons, so totally destitute of compas- sion and morality, as to deprive this wretched victim of the seas of the only means of preser- vation ? Is it credible, that there are persons so barbarous and inhuman, as to take away, without even the hope of being enriched, this small, but to him invaluable succor ? Do these men know the distress of a person strucHim* with the waves, and almost yielding the une- qual Contest ? Do they know the eagerness, with which even in the grasp of death, he catches at the uncertain plank or mast to assist his escape from this terrible enemy ? And will they tear from him without remorse even this little assistance, which your benevolence has rS6 furnished to save him from immediate destruc- tion ? Having given this cursory sketch of the leading principles of the institution, for which I appear this day, as the sinceie though feeble advocate; can 11 be doubted whether it deserve the support of the opulent aid the charitable ? If life he worth preserving ; if it is a pleasant thino for the eyes, which seemed ci-^ed in death, to open again upon this delight fJ world, cloth- ed with verdure, and decorated with beauty ; if it is a dreadful tiling to " die and go we know not where," to be suddenly torn from existence at the very moment perhaps, when the breast is swelling with exultation ; and if the wise and the good, the great and the learned are. terrified and shrink back from the grave, that opens be- neath their feet; how shall we find language sufficiently animated, to shew the importance of this excellent institution ? Charity is pleased, when her votaries nave fed the hungry and clothed the naked ; but with what smiles of ineffable sweetness is her countenance ad»rned, when they have bestowed the gift of life itself. It is lovely -to cause the song of health to cheer the abode of disease ; but it is noble, it is god- like, to bring back a human being, as it were from the tomb, and to open the lips, which would otherwise have been shut in everlast- ing: silence. The benevolent Savior of man- kind is seen with admiration and gratitude going about doing good, giving sight to the blind, and feet to the lame, and reason to the lunatic ; but with what emotions of awe, sur- prise, and joy, do we behold him restoring the widow's son to the arms of his disconsolate mo- ther, and calling the dead Lazarus with a voice, at which the bars of the grave were burst asunder ! We do not appeal to your benevolence for the means of conferring dignity or riches, but for the means of giving to the community a valuable citizen, and perhaps a distinguished benefactor. We ask the means of saving your children, your friends, perhaps yourselves from an untimely grave. Yes, my friends, it may be that some individuals of this assembly, who now bestow of the wealth which God has-given them, for the service of this institution, may present 58 themselves at our next anniversary, the living monuments of its value. The objects of its care are not the indigent merely, but men of fortune and reputation are equally liable to the calamities, which it is designed to relieve. The sudden overturn of a boat, an unexpected ill- ness in the water resorted to for refreshment, or the accidental immersion of children may with- out its aid deprive some of that, which alone had the power of giving value to prosperity or comfort to existence. The calls of humanity in a civilized country are never heard in vain; and the presence of this brilliant assemblage of grace and elegance evinces, that our society is neither regarded with disapprobation nor indifference. Ye, who are mothers in this assembly, who are no strangers to the pleasure of marking the progressive im- provement of a child, the delight of your youth, or the comfort of your age, can conceive how exquisite would be your grief, if this child were suddenly taken from you, without the last sol- emn consolation, of pressing his hand and closing his eyes ;—if he were brought before you pale, speechless, motionless ;—if the cup of joy 29 were dashed from your lips, and the hope of life apparently extinguished forever. You can then feel the value of an institution, which is able to recall the fleeting powers of life, and plant fresh roses on his faded cheeks ; which is able to enliven his countenance with the wonted look of affection, and restore him to your arms, a living, an animated being. Who can paint the joy of such a scene ? Who can describe the rapture of that embrace ?—For he was dead, but is alive again; he was lost, but is found. But it cannot be necessary to attempt thus to excite liberality by appealing to the imagin- ation. It is the pride and glory of Humane Societies, that they need not the aid of fancy or of fiction. There are thousands of well at* tested cases, in which all this variety of grief and joy has been realized, and their assistance acknowledged with the warmest gratitude. The eloquence of the pencil, the fire of poetry, the dignity of learning have paid their tribute to the merits of the institution. By the assistance of the life boat it has saved whole crews from being lost in the sight of friends, who expected the moment, when they must sink and be seen 30 no more. The feelings of the humane, when their efforts have been successful, are among the most precious of the blessings of Heaven. My friends, do you envy these feelings ? Make them your own, by communicating to this so- ciety the means of effecting their charitable purposes. Cast your bread upon the waters ; for you have the promise of the God of truth, that after many days it shall return to you again, with a rich, a real, an eternal reward. I shall not quit this delightful subject with- out bringing to your remembrance a reflexion, that becomes the place in which I stand, and the solemnity of these wralls, consecrated to the offices of religion. How often have you heard from this place, of the goodness of that Being, who left the seats of felicity to save men from the pains of eternal death. How often have you resorted hither to listen to the mildness of his precepts,and t j be charmed with the lustre of his example. Every sigh of distress, which breaks upon the ear ; every appeal to feeling or to virtue, should teach us to go and do like- wise. They must follow his steps, who hope for his rewards. They must be merciful, who kneel 31 at his throne, and implore his mercy. For the time is at hand, when wealth and power, science and fame, ambition and honor shall fade away. The short and toilsome day of life shall pass, and we must be gone. But the blessing of him, that was ready to perish, and of those, whose hearts we have caused to sing for joy, shall not descend upon our heads in vain. It will strew the pillow of death with flowers, and it will throw open to us the gates of that world, where virtue is perfect, and happiness everlasting. FINIS. $ppen&ijt. ODES Written for the Anniversary of the MERRIMACX HUMANE SOCIETY, ODE, for 1803. Great source of life, whose breath at first Gave motion to our senseless dust, And shall from death nature ; By Tiiei, all living creatures move, Each pulse that beats declares thy love, Without Tube—beats no more. O ! What is Man, that he should be Admitted to co-act with Thee, (When all the power is thine ;) —Employ'd to s-'tve in deep distress, Or from th' unbrace of Death re'ease, When such thy great d-sign ! Thanks for the pleasing knowledge ;iiv;n— W!i it wonders by indubent Heav'n Have hiuriiin efforts < roivn'd ; Wh-.it numbers enter'd with the dead— (Their breath retir'd—sensation tied)— Again their lives have found. The.nks for the means to man di'-clos'd To wake his friend—in death rep >s'd ; Oiapturous delight ; —To change the wife's, the mother's tear T.'om deepest wur, to joy sincere, —Joy ot unmeusmJ height. O c;rant those pure affections Lord Wi/eh with the Savior's love accord Bless each hi'manb di.sic.v ; Prevent men with tliy Hi; J support, Or save litem in the List r. sitrt; And may all lives be thine. ODE, FOR 1804. A srtttTFK of terror jiier'd the airi 'i'w.i- the last effort of .d and die with him. See where a father's bosom'd grief Disowns compassion, mocks relief; Bat one faint hope now cheers th»* i.K;or»; (J.ani Iicav'n to innocence a tomb. The s:d, the melancholy prayer, I - heard above, accepted there. A pitying Spirit downward tied And hade the stream give up its dead. O'er the pale ruin Pity «i«lis And ai.^tiish bends her streaming eyes ; But Hope prcsum;'tunus dares again Repeat her soothing, suppliant Strain. Thou who can«t kill and make alive, Bid liie'> extiugU'sh'd spark revive j Rekindle n i-on's flowing flame ; Reanimate the liieiess frame. Commistiou'd from the skies to save Humanity benignant, cries, Wake from ihe -bunders ol (lie grave 1 Gop 1* thy help, arise—arise. 34 ODE TO HUMANITY. FOR 1805. ?>LTtr source of joy, benienant pow'r, Who lov'st the ills of life to cheer, To sorrow's cheek the rose restore, And wi(>e affliction's streaming tear ; Thv srnles disperse the glooii of c.are, At diine approach flies stern despair. Pale want and fell disease their rage res- train, And death, dread tyrant, hurls his dart in vain. Hark ! from the shore what sounds arise ! Heard you the loud, the piercing cries? See, stretch'd o'er yon untimely bier, The. victim of the waves appear. See, see that little orphan band With down east eye and folded hand ; They grieve, they weep, for help in an- guish call. That corse was once their father, hope— their all. Oh ! hear that agonizing sigh. And is no aid nor comfort nigh ? From the dark mansion of the grave, God uf the waters ! thou can'st save. Humanity bends o'er his frame, Breathes in his lip* the vital flame; Faint throbs the heart, he moves, the mists decay, The languid eye once more beholds the " day. Come, let us strike the trembling lyre, Let solemn notes melodious roll, Let gratitude the song inspire, And love and joy inflame the soul. When m relentless oceans power We saw, we heard, we hreath'd no more ; Restor'd to life, to friends, to peace by thee, We'll sing thy triumph, sweet Human- ity. ODE TO HUMANITY. FOR 1806. Daughter of love, of birth divine, From native heaven thy smiles bestow S Those smiles celestial, which combine To sooth the si^hs of plaintive woe. Now shed thy radiant beams around, And bless the consecrated ground ; With hallowed love thy sons inspire, And touch the soul with heavenly fire. When gathering storms, by sorrow swell'd. O'er life's tempestuous ocean roar, When man's frail bark, no more upheld* Is dash'd against the billowy shore ; Yet then 'tis thine the storm to quell, The shafts of sorrow to repel, To chase the clouds of grief away. And on the chaos pour the day. When transient death pervades the frames Late sunk beneath the purple flood. Thou canst restore the mystic flame, And aid the efforts of a God. Cant wake to joy a Father's breast, By pensive sorrow once opprest, And bid to cease around the bier A mother's sigh—a mother's tear. Within thy fanes shall incense glow. The grateful tribute of the heart, Which once by thee reliev'd from woe, Its gratitude shall e'er impart. For thee we'll M\eep the trembling chord, Thy praise shall glow in every word, Thine shall the unbounded glory be, Child of the skies, Humanity. 35 The following directions for recovering persons, supposed to h« dead from drowning, &c. were published by the Humane So- ciety of Philadelphia, 1805. DIRECTIONS TOR RECOVERING PERSONS WHO ARE SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD, FROM DROWNING. 1. AS soon as the body is taken out of the water, it must be conveyed on a board or bier, if at hand, to a house, or any other place, where it can be laid dry and warm, avoiding the usual destruct- ive methods of hanging it by the heels, rolling it on a barrel, or ptacing it across a log on the belly. 2. The clothes must be immediately stripped off, and the body wrapped up in blankets, well warm- ed. It should be laid on its back, with the head a little raised. If the weather be cold, it should be placed near a fire, and an heated warming-pan should be passed over the body ; but in warm weather it will be sufficient to place it between two blankets, well heated, or in the sunshine, taking care to pre- vent the room from being crowded, with any persons who are not necessarily employed about the body. 3. At the same time, the whole body should be rubbed with the hand, or with hot woollen cloths. The rubbing should be moderate, but continued with industry, and particularly about the breast. Apply 56 also heated bricks to the feet, belly and breast. The immediate application or'frictions is of the utmost importance, as many have been recovered by fric^ tions only, when early used. 4. As soon as it can possibly be done, a bellows should be applied to one nostril, while the other nostril and the mouth are kept closed, and the lower end prominent part of the windpipe (orthat part which is called by the anatomists, pomum adami) is pressed backward. The bellows is to be worked in this situa- tion ; and when the breast is swelled by it, the bellows should stop, and an assistant should press the belly upwards, to force the air out. The bel- lows should then be applied as before, and the belly again be pressed ; this process should be repeated from twenty to thirty times in a minute, so as to imitate natural breathing as nearly as possible. Some volatile spirits, heated, may be held under the valve of the bellows whilst it works. If a bellows cannot be procured, some person should blow into one of the nostrils, through a pipe or quill, whilst the other nostril and mouth are closed as before j or if a pipe or quill be not at hand, he should blow into the mouth, whilst both nostrils are closed; but whenever a bellows can be procured, it is to be preferred, as air forced in by these means, will be much more serviceable than air which has already been breathed. 97 5. During this time, a large quantity of ashes, water, salt, or sand, should be heated ; and as soon as it is milk-warm, the body must be placed in it ; the blowing and rubbing are then to be continued as before ; and when the water, ashes, or salt are cooled, &ome warmer must be added, so that the whole may be kept milk-warm. Loud noises have sometimes proved successful in recovering such persons and restoring to life. When signs of returning life are apparent, the fric- tions must be continued, but more gently. These methods must be continued three or four hours, as in several instances they have proved suc- cessful, although no signs of life appeared until that time. When the patient is able to swallow, he must take some wine, brandy, or rum and water. Bleeding or purging ought not to be used, without consulting a physician, who should be called in as soon as possible : but clysters of salt and water may be injected. After life has returned, if convulsions come on, blood should be taken, by direction of a physi- cian.. 58 The dangerous Effects of noxious Vapours, from Wells, Cellars, fermenting Liquors, %c. may be prevented, By procuring a free circulation of air, either by ventilators or opening the doors or windows, where it is confined, or by changing the air, by keeping fires in the infected place, or by throwing in stone- lime recently powdered. These precautions should be taken, before enter- ing into such suspected places ; or a lighted candle should be first introduced, which will go out if the air is bad. When a person is let down into a well, he should be carefully watched, and drawn up again on the least change. But when a person is apparent- ly dead, from the above-mentioned cause, the first thing to be done is to remove the body to a cool place in a wholesome air ; then let the body be strip- ped, and let cold water be thrown from buckets over it for some time. This is particularly useful in cases of apparent death from drunkenness—Let the treat- ment now be the same as that for drowned persons. The head should be raised a little; and continued frictions, with blowing into the nostril with a bel- lows, should be practised for several houri>. 99 In case of Suffocation from the Fumes of fawning Charcoal. The general treatment recommended for curing the disorders brought on by noxious vapours, is to be applied ; but the dangerous effects of this may be prevented, by taking care not to sit near it when burning ; to burn it in a chimney ; and where there is no chimney, to keep the door open, and to place a laro-e tub of water in the room. In all these, as well as in cases of drowned per- sons, moderate purges and bleeding are only to be used, with the advice of a physician. To prevent the fatal Effects of Lightning. Let your house be provided with an iron conduc- tor ; but when this cannot be had, avoid sitting or standing near the window, door, or walls of an house, during the time of a thunder gust. The nearer you are placed to the tfjT middle of a room, the better. When you are not in a house, avoid flying to the cover of the woods, or of a solitary tree for safety. When a person is struck by lightning, strip the body and throw buckets full of cold water over it for ten or fifteen minutes ; let continued frictions and inflations of the lungs be also practised : let gen- tle shocks of electricity be made to pass through the chest, when a skilful person can be procured to ap- ply it; and apply blisters to the breast. \ 4l Founds of the Merrimack Humane Society i ilols. ctii Balance of cash in the hands of Ebenezer Stocker, Esq. Treasurer of the Society per last year's repo t - 8S8 c£ To which is to be added the interest on his account to Sept. 4, 1806' - - - 48 3 Collection at the anniversary meeting and donations since llo" 41 Advance on the specie sold - - 1 Amount collected from annual members and from mem- bers for life the pre&ent year - - 255 A donation from Mr. William Brown, a seaman, by the hands of Daniel A. White, K,t>q. - - 5 Proceeds of the sale of the Address delivered by D. A. White, Esq. at the anniversary meeting of the Society 1805, as tar as the same has been received - 23 50 13J7 93 Expences paid by the Treasurer for use of the So- ciety the last year to be deducted. 3 50 Mr. Lesley's bill for Union-IIidl and Mr, Hojt's for attendance at the anniversary meeting - The President's order in favor of J. Spofford for repairs on the huts erected by the So- ciety on Plumb-Island - - 12 60 Mr. Bartlet's bill of handles for the Electric machines - ° For a medal presented by the Trustees to Capt. Eleazer Johnson for saving the life of Capt. Paul Simpson in Merrimack River - 10 Balance in favor of the Society - 1308 83 1^7 £13 F Officers of the Merrimack Humane Society for the year J800. Micajah Sawyer, M D. President. William Coomcs, Esq. Vice-i*resident. Ebkxezi: r bTOCKEit, Asq 'jrea.sitrer. K ATI! a :v I E L H it A DS v R eet, AJ. B Cor. Sec. William Wo art, Esq. Rec. Sec. Trustees. Hon. Dudley A. Tyng, Rev. 'J humus Cary, Nathaniel Sal/onstall, Esq. Samuel Nye, Esq. Rev. Isaac Smith, Nicholas Johnson, Esq. Rev. Daniel Dana, Rev. Samuel Spring, Rev: Johi, slndreics, Rev. Joseph J Jan a, D. D. Rev. James AJorss, Rev. Jonathan Allen, Rtv. John Giles, Rev. Charles IV. Milton, Dr. Bis!scph Brown Moses Broun, Esq.. Capt. Moses Brown, jun. Daniel Bumhain Thomas Burnham, Et>q. Ipswich I Abraham Burnham, Bradford Capt. Ebenezrr Caldwell, Ipswich John Caldwell, jun. do. Aiex. Campbell, Newbury Joshua Carter, Esq. Nathaniel Carter Thomas Carter, Esq. Kev. '1 horn as Cary Capt. Thomas Cary Samuel Cary Samuel Chadwick, Bradford Capt. Bailcj Cintse M.^s Chase Capt Samuel Chase >.'r. Benjamin Clap, Haverhill J »hn Chickering Capt. Green leaf Clark Seth Clark, Salisbury Thomas M. Clark, Esq. Rev. Ebenezer Coffin Dr. Charles Cofffn, Newbury M:,jor David Coffin David Coffin, jun. Capt. Samuel Coffin Tristram Coffin, Esq. Capt. Hector Coffin Capt.'George Connell William Cook Zebedee Cook Zebedee Conk, jun. V/illium Coombs, Esq. Philip Coombs Newbury Ralph Cross, E;-q. Capt. Thomas Cross William Cummings William Currier Joseph Cutler i'^';/; ud Cutter Joseph Dana, D. T). Ins'.vich Rev. Daniel Dana Joseph Uana, Esq. Members'1 Names. Anthony Davenport Moses Davenport Dr. Aaron Davis, jl]n. Capt. Moody Davis Capt. W'illiam Davis S )lom m Davis John Dean Dea. j seph Dodge, Haverhill Robert Dodije David Dole, Newbury loses Dole, jun. do. Dea. Edward Dorr, Amesbury J'.din Dow, Haverhill James Duncan, Esq. do. Vi'dliam Eaton Joseph Emerson. E=q. Neheiuiah Emerson, Haverhill Saiuuei Emeisun Capt. Jnlni IX Farley Dea. William Farnham Samvel Jrarrar, Esq. Atulover Galen H. Fay Capt. Robert Folicnsbee Capt. Robert Foster Samuel Foster "VVilliain Francis Samuel French, jun. Hei.iy G. French Andrew Frothingham, Esq. Andrew Frothingham, jun. Gdman Frothingham Stephen Frothingham EVr.r;;er Gage, Haverhill Ebenezer G;i»e, jun. do. Jonathan Cn°-<>, Esq. J.'loses Gale, Ibverhill Major Amos George, do, Jacob Gerrish Rev. John Giles Arfhur Gilmair ■ Samuel Goodhue Capt. Charhjs Goodrich Capt. J:;hn Goodwin Capt. Jacob Greenieaf John Gzeenleaf, Esq. Major Joshua Greenieaf Dr. Giles Gridley Ebenezer Gunr.ison Daniel Hale, Newbury Capt. Ebenezer Hale Ebenezer Hale, jun, Thomas Hale, Newbury Ebenezer Hale do. Thomas Hum Tristram Haynes, Haverhill Capt. John Harrod Dea. Solomon Haskell Hon. John Heard, Ipswich Col. Joseph Hodgkins, do. Capt. Charles Hodge Michael Hodge, jun. Esq. James Hodge Capt. Stephen Holland William Holliday Joseph Hooper David How, Haverhill Capt. Stephen Howard Capt. William Howard Capt. Ebenezer Hoyt Nathan Hoyt Samuel Hoyt Rev. Stephen Hull, Amesbury Elias Hunt, Newbury Woodbridge G. Hunt Abraham J a eh-on Capt. George Jenkins Capt. Eleazer Ju'mso-i. Eleazer Johnson, jun, Nicholas Johnson, Esq. Capt. Reuben Jones Justin Kent, Haverhill Thomas Kettell Capt. Caleb Kimball, Newbury Cott< n Kimball, Haverhill Daniel Kimball, Bradford : Lieut. Edmund Kimball, Bradford Capt. Edmund Kimball David T. Kimball, lnsw;ch 'apt. Edmund Einldl, Bradford James Kimball Members' Names. Major James Kimball, Bradford Moses Kim I all, jun. Dr. John Kittei idge, Gloucester Capt. Nathaniel Knap Isaac Knap, jun. Nathaniel Knaj, jun. John Knoulton Thomas Knowlton, Ipswich David Lawrence Caleb B. L- Bosquet, Haverhill Capt. Peter Le Breton Capt. Peter Le Breton, jun. Edward Little, Esq. J icob Little, Newbury Capt. David Little, do. Edward St. Loe Livermore, Esq. James Locke Nathan Long, Amesbury Dea. Robert Long Joseph Lord, Esq. Ipswich Capt. John Lord, do. Capt. Jimes Lowell, Salisbury Capt. Joseph Lunt Dr. Thomas Manning, Ipswich Hon. Ebenezer March, Esq. New- bury Jonathan Marsh, Esq. Hon. Nathaniel Marsh, Esq. Ha- verhill Nathaniel Marsh Benjamin Merril, Kensington Capt.OrlatuloB. Merrill,Newbury Capt. James Meyer Rev. Charles W. Milton Joseph Moody Capt. Israel Morrill, Salisbury William Morland Rev. James Morss E. S. Mosely, Esq. Joseph Moulton Hon. Jeremiah Nelson, Esq. Joseph Newel, Esq. Newbury Samuel Newman Dr. Bishop Norton Stephen S. Norton Capt. George Norton Jacob Noyes John M. Neves Moody N Capt. Charles C. Kaboteau George A. Rogers Co.pt. Wiiiium Russell I Members' Names. Nathaniel Saltonstall, Esrp Enoch Sawyer, Esq. New bury Micajuh Saziyer, Esq. Capt. Joseph Sevier Capt. Paul Simpson Rev. Isaac Smith, Byfield John Smith Jonathan Smith, Esq. Salisbury Dr. Josiah Smith Rev. David Smiili, Haverhill Icwiard Smith, Esq. Capt. Nathaniel Smith William Smith Prescott Spalding Dr. Lawrence Sprague Rev. Samuel Spring Ebenezer Stedman Solom' n Stickney, Rowley Ebenezer Stacker, Esq. William Stocker Joseph swasey, Esq. Ipswich Benjamin G. Sweetser Seth Sweetser Jacob Swett Enoch S. Tappan, M. B. Samuel Tenney Thomas Thomas Esq. Capt. Samuel W. Thompson De icon Thonfts 'Ihompson Nathaniel Thurston, Esq. Bradford Paul Thurlo, Newbury Capt. Jonathan Titcomb, jun. Ephraim Titcomb William S. Titcomb Francis Todd Amos Toppan Edward Toppan Joshua Toppan Sewe/I Toppan Ichabod Tucker, Esq. Salem Hon. Dudley A. Tyng, Esq. Boston John Varnum, Esq. Haverhill Dr. Francis Vergnics Simeon Wade Samuel Walker, Haverhill Michael Walsh Luther Waterman William Wead Jonathan Webster, Salisbury Capt. Samuel Webster, Bradford Samuel W. Welles Joseph Welsh, Esq. Plaistow Samuel Wheeler Abraham Wheelwright Capt. E.ben.Wheelwright, Newbury Capt. Jeremiah Wheelwright Charles Whipple Charles White, Haverhill Daniel A. White, Esq. Ca^t. Oilman White Leonard White, Haverhill Benjamin Whitmore Ebenezer Whitmore, Newbury Capt. William Welcomb, Ipswich Jo e( h Williams Ber.j. Willis, Esq. Haverhill Benj. Willis, jun. Poitland Capt. Edmund Wingate William Woari, Esq. Abner Wood David Wood John Wood Humph re y W oc dh u ry Capt. Benjamin V, \ ,ui Capt. Wil'liam Wj'.i William IFycr, jun. Is^iiel Yous:g. $^ The reader is requested to correct with Lis nen the follow- ing accidental errors of the puss. Pa-e 6", line 12, for principles read principle—-page 12, line 4-, for asign read assijin. \ X 7