THE
CENTENARIAN,
,!«« »*«"B>««»**v ^!^W*»>"
THE CELEBRATION
          OF HIS

 ONE HUNDREDTH
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     SOUTHBRIDGE:
0. D. HAVEN, BOOK AND JOB PRINTER.
1800. 
 
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       THE

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AND
PHRENOLOGICAL CHARACTER
OF
DEACON  JOHN  PHILLIPS:
WITH THE
ADDRESSES
FISI
ORIGrlNAL  HI IT DUE IN" S,
OF THE
C E L E B R A T 1 0 *
OF His
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      SOUTHBIU'DGE:

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H I S
BIOGRAPHY AND PHRENOLOGICAL CHARACTER.
FROM THE AMERICAN PHRENOLOGICAL JOURNAL. 
BIOGRAPHY.
BY REV.  F. W.  EMMONS.
   The oldest inhabitant of the town of Sturbridge, Mass., now liv-
ing, is Deacon John Phillips, the fourth of eleven  children of
 Deacon Jonathan Phillips,  and of all is the  only survivor.   Dr.
Jonathan Phillips of Charlton, who  died  there  some twenty-one
years ago, aged eighty-two,  was his  elder brother.   Their father
was born in Oxford, this state, in 1732, the year of George Wash-
ington's  birth, and the same day that  the  first  white child was
born in  Sturbridge.  He was  born  in  the  town of Sturbridge,
on the 29th day  of June, a. d. 1760, on  the  farm where he now
resides with his eldest son, Colonel Edward Phillips. He has always
lived on this farm, of some two hundred acres, which, about a cen-
tury ago, was purchased by his father for $625.  He has lived with
his father, and his father with him, as he and his son Edward and
their families have ever lived together, under  the same roof, and
eat  at the  same table;  and during eighty-six  years, or since
he was fourteen years old, he has not had a severe fit of sickness,
and for forty years has called no doctor; nor has he, at  any time,
been absent from his native town to exceed eight weeks.
   He is of large  size, and stout built.  At the age of sixteen, he
measured six feet in height, barefoot, and  weighed  one hundred
and ninety-six  pounds.   His weight has  since  varied from two
hundred and four  to one hundred sixty-six pounds.  He now  weighs,
probably,  about one hundred and seventy.   His  manner of living
has ever been plain and frugal;  has labored as a farmer constantly,
but not hard, nor to late hours. He has usually retired to bed early,
and rose early in  the morning.   He has been temperate in eating,
drinking, sleeping, working,  and in all things.  His beverages have
been cold  water,  tea and coffee, and cider, all of which  he now
uses.  And  formerly he drank a little spirits  in hay-time; but it
is  a long while since he discontinued the use of it,  and does not
now taste, touch,  or handle it at all;  nor has he, he say.s, drank to
the amount  of  a  pint of  spirits for over thirty years.   He likes
cider, and drinks  half a tumbler-ful at his meals—not, however, of
the hard  Harrison kind, but of the mild, Democratic;  having al-
ways, in politics, been a Democrat, or a Republican, of the Jeffer- 
BIOGRAPHY.
5
 Bonian  School.   At the last  presidential  election he voted for
Fremont and Dayton, and he hopes at the next to vote for Lincoln
and Hamlin; "for, in politics," he says, "I am a Republican, and
 T will vote this ticket as long as I live.''
   He has been twice elected a representative of the town in the
Legislature, and  served  during  the  years  1814  and 1815.  He
then and there opposed the Hartford Convention with all his might.
For fourteen years, from  1810 to 1824, he was a justice of the
peace, and married many a couple.
   He has used tobacco, too, ever since he was a young man.   Till
 he was upward of fifty, he chewed and smoked the filthy weed; for
the last fifty years he has snuffed it, and  continues snuff-taking to
 this day.  But, he says, it is of no use — a bad habit—and he would
 not advise any young person in this respect to follow his example.
   At the beginning of the Revolutionary War, when he was sixteen
years of age, he was drafted into a militia company, under Captain
Abel Mason, and ordered  to Providence, R. I.  He served here
 as a private seven weeks, from the latter part of December, 1776,
to February, 1777.  He bad the offer, however, he says,  of being
made "corporal of the troop," but did not  accept, for he "never
sought office."   While at  Providence he  was spoken of as the
largest man in the Regiment, and  was called  out of the  ranks by
his captain to measure with a soldier in another company.  They
measured.   The  other was  an inch taller, but not so heavy.
   Since he was ninety years of age, he has laid up and re-laid on
his farm, alone, about twenty rods of stone  wall, handling some
pretty heavy stones, and he has done it well, working at  it two or
three hours in the forenoon, and the same in the afternoon, making
about two rods per day.
   At eleven years of age, his attention was called to the subject of
religion by a discourse be heard preached by an Elder Jacobs, of
Thompson, Conn., from 2 Sam. viii. 2.  He immediately afterward
betook himself to reading  the Bible, feeling that he was a great
 sinner.   He read the  four  Evangelists through in course.  One
Sabbath he read the last ten chapters of John, and when  he came
to and read that passage, "It is finished," his  burden left him.—
He thinks he then  met with a saving change, and  his sins were
pardoned.  He did not, however, make a public profession of his
faith till  the year after  his marriage,  when he was  baptized and
united with the Baptist church in Sturbridge.
   May 20th, 1785, at  the age of  twenty-five, he was married to
Love, the third daughter of Jonathan Perry.   The two elder sisters
bore the names of Mercy and Grace.   She was now at the bloom-
ing age of  eighteen, and, the deacon says, " was the  prettiest girl 
6                        BIOGRAPHY.
 in the whole town!"   With her  he  lived  happily in the marriage
 relation sixty-four years, and by her had  nine children, seven of
 whom grew up to have  families, and  five still  live.   She died at
 the age of eighty-two years.  He has,  with and from  these seven
 children,  twenty-five  grandchildren, and thirty-four great-grand-
 children now living — sixty-four in all.  In 1799 be  was chosen
 deacon, to take the place of his father, who  died  in  June of  the
 year previous.   He took two months to consider on  it, when he
 made up his mind and consented to serve "according to the best
 of his  ability."
   Four of the leading articles, and, perhaps, as comprehensive an
 any of his religious creed are, and have ever been —
   "1. That God is good.
   "2. That Christ is  divine.
   "3. That there is power and reality  in revealed religion;  and
   "4. That man, by nature, is totally morally depraved."
   His three greatest, most potent enemies, against whom he says
 he still has to fight, are:  "The World, the Flesh and the Devil."
 These he  hopes to overcome by the Blood of the Lamb.
   In August, 1856, he called on the writer and passed  a  night,
 when the occasion was taken to gather the facts and write the notes
 for this biographical sketch.  The next day, at Southbridge, he  sat
 to Metcalf,  for the daguerreotype picture, from which the  cut of
 the prefixed portrait has been executed.
  He was then in the enjoyment of good health, walked off two or
 three miles at a time without weariness, and his eyesight and sens*'
 of hearing were less impaired than that of  many others at the age
 of three score years.   He could read plain print without spectacles,
 and hear  without requiring  any one  addressing  him to speak
 but little above the ordinary tone  of voice.   His health is still very
 good.  He relishes his food, eats heartily and sleeps well.
  In October following, he had a  little shock of palsy,  and has not
 since been able to labor or walk about as much as formerly, though
 he now walks  half a mile or so without  difficulty.  His  sight
 and hearing are  failing;  and,  he says, he  is  conscious that  his
 mental powers too have  failed during  the last  four years.   One
tooth remains.
  He has  ever sustained the reputation of being an honest, upright,
and industrious man, a kind and obliging neighbor, and good citi-
: 3n. 
PHRENOLOGICAL  CHARACTER.
BY  NELSON  8IZER.
    The portrait of this aged man furnishes an interesting study. —
  Fie has lived a hundred }'ears, and the reader will  be curious to
  know the conditions which  combine to  produce this extraordinary
  result.  According to the biography, he has been remarkably uni-
  form in his habits;  has lived always on the same farm; has rarely
  been away from it;  has lived on a plain diet, taken a sufficient
  amount of sleep,  and been  uniformly and steadily industrious and
  temperate.  According to the shape of his head, we infer that bis
  passions have not been of that controlling, energetic character cal-
  culated to wear out and enervate the physical system.
    He is a man of large frame, measuring six feet in height, and in
  his prime  weighing  over two hundred  pounds.  He  has what we
  call the billious or motive temperament  in predominance.   That
  large nose, those  prominent cheek bones, that very broad and long-
  chin, that  prominent brow, and great length of head  from chin
  to crown,  all  indicate uncommon power of frame.  He is rather
  coarsely made, which indicates the tough, enduring, hardy qualities
  of constitution; the bones and muscles  seem  to predominate over
 the vascular system. That large chin is a sign of a strong, steady
 circulation.  Men with such a chin rarely if ever are known to
 have heart disease,  or to  die  of apoplexy;  while a small, light,
 short, delicate, diminutive chin  is an indication of unsteady circu-
 lation, and liability  to fevers and inflammatory complaints, and to
 heart disease and  apoplexy.   That prominence to the  brow, and
 fullness  of the  center  of the forehead, evince a quick, practical
 judgment,  power of  observation, ability to gain knowledge, espe-
 ially of things, and  memory of  events and  experiences.  He has
 always been fond of reading, and disposed to narrate his experience
 and the circumstances which have rendered his life interesting.—
 His Language  appears  to  be full, his  reasoning powers fair, his
 Benevolence rather large, his A'eneration  large, while  Firmness is
 most enormously developed.   That particular height in the center
 of the back part of the  top of the  head, shows the location  and
givnt development of Firmness.  He must have been a man of re- 
8
phrenological character.
markable  will-power and a controlling spirit wherever he moved,
not so much on account of his great  thought-power as on account
of his stability, steadiness, practical judgment, and common sense-
His head appears to be narrow, and flattened at the sides, showing
that Combativeness, Destructiveness, and Alimentiveness — which
give anger, severity, and appetite — were only medium,  while the
next range of organs above—including Secretiveness — appear to
be small.  Frankness is one of bis virtues  and one of his faults.
He  has always been too plain and direct in his speech, too positive
and  absolute  in his statements; but being  calm, self-possessed,
dignified, and reasonable in his disposition, his frankness has gener-
ally been  in the right  direction.   lie  has  seldom given away to
passion and rash impulse, so as to make his frankness so much a
blemish as would be the case in an impulsive, hot-blooded man. —
His Cautiousness is not distinctly discernable, but appear^ to be
only fair.   The signs of the social nature are comparatively strong.
  His  leading characteristics  are steadiness, perseverance, thor-
oughness, respect  for whatever is sacred  and religious, without
being superstitious, kindness, practical talent, soundness of judg-
ment, and unconquerable integrity. 
THE   CELEBRATION.
                               Sturbridge, June 29, 186(7.
  Pursuant to previous arrangement  and public notice, a large
congregation of the family and friends of Deacon John Phillits
assembled in the Baptist church at Fiskdale to celebrate this, his
one hundredth birth-day.
  There were present three of his five children with their compan-
ions, eight of his twenty-five grandchildren, and eight of his thirty"
four great-grandchildren, besides many more distant relatives, and
others of his native and adjacent towns, among whom were several
clergymen of different denominations, and  two former pastors of
of the church.   The house was crowded.
  At 11 o'clock, a. m., this venerable  man entered, leaning  upon
his staff, followed by six other  aged men, the nearest to him
now living,—one of them in his  92d year,"" and the  others octoge-
narians,—and took his seat upon the platform before the desk —
they at his right and left.  Behind it hung his portrait, over which,
encircled with evergreens, printed on canvass,  was:
         "THE HOARY HEAD IS A CROWN OF GLORY,
         IF IT BE FOUND IN THE WAY OF RIGHTEOUSNESS-"
   After a voluntary upon  the  organ, an anthem was sung by the
choir.  Then this man of  a hundred years arose — all  eyes were
fixed upon him ;  every ear was attent to catch the utterances  of hi>
lips.
                        HE SAID:
   My friends,  I give you thanks  for this opportunity of seeing so
many of you present, and for the attention bestowed upon me ; but
1 feel unworthy to receive it.   As I have been requested to offer
prayer on this occasion, I will first make a  few remarks.   For
seventy-five years I have been a  professor of  religion, and I have
endeavored to adorn my profession.  I am now an  old child —

  * This aged man, Mr. Benjamin Smith, ate nothing at the "festival," and drank
only a little lemonade. On his  way  home, returning In the burying-ground, he
visited the ;ravc of hi* departed, wife, was taken ill that night, and died July In.
t 
 10                    THE CELEBRATION.

 broken down — one hundred years old, for  you to look upon.   I
 feel that I am a child in knowledge and everything else.   My creed
 consists of four particular points:   1.  The goodness of God.   2.
 The divinity of our Savior.  2. The power and reality of revealed
 religion; and 4.  The depravity of man.   Here I stand a monument
 of God's goodness.

  He then offered a short prayer,  in which  he thanked Almighty
 God for giving him existence,  and  for  all the way His  hand had
led him;  he invoked the continuance of His  favor and blessings —
upon himself;  on the church accustomed  here to worship; on the
people present; on Zion at large, and that the earth might be filled
with His glory.   This he asked through Christ, his Lord and Re-
deemer.  Amen.

                   THE CHOIR THEN SUNG :

               "A hundred years to come," &c.

  The other exercises of this interesting occasion were :

  Reading of Scripture, by Rev. S.  G. Clapp, of Sturbridge.

        1 John,  2d chapter, selected by Deacon Phillips.

  [He also selected to be sung now,  the 71st Psalm of Watts:]

             My God, my everlasting hope,
               I live upon thy truth;
             Thy bands have  held my childhood up,
               And strengthened  all my youth.

             My flesh was fashioned by thy  power,
               With all these limbs of mine,
            And from my mother's painful hour
               I 've been entirely thine.

             Still hath  my life new wonders seen,
               Repeated every year;
            Behold my days  that yet remain —
              1 trust them to thy care.

            Cast me not off when strength  declines,
              When hoary hairs arise;
            And round me let thy glory shine,
              Whene'er my servant dies.

            Then, in the history of my age,
              When men review  my days,
            They '11 read thy love in every page,
              In every line thy praise. 
THE OELF.BRATIOX.
11
     Prayer, by Rev. Addison Parker, of Agawam.
                      singing :
         "Let every heart rejoice and sing."'

Then followed:
                     REMARKS,

 BIT  JL.  IP.  T-A-TETZLOIR,,  ESQ,.,
               THE PRESIDENT OF THE DAY'.
•  The purpose for which we have this  day assembled, is to com-
 memorate  an event of no  common occurrence.   We frequently
 meet to promote  the objects of philanthrophy and benevolence,
 or to discuss the merits of some candidate for high political office,
 or  to  celebrate the anniversary of some great event in the history
 of  our country; but, on this occasion, we have assembled to do
 honor to one of our own fellow-citizens—a man, venerable alike in
 character as in age; we  come to commemorate with him the one
 hundreth anniversary of the day  of his birth.
   Having arrived  at a period of life to  which  few ever attain, and
 very few ever expect to see; it has been deemed proper to notice,
 in a public manner, this uncommon event.
   Although now  surrounded by a large and  respectable circle of
 descendants, whose affections still entwine around him, as the ivy
 clings to the aged elm,  and by a multitude of friends and acquain-
 tances who have known him long—although  a. few are present of more
 than four score years, and  one of more than four score years and
 ten ;* yet,  not one of those who commenced life with him,  are here.
 He has outlived all his eotemporaries — and even  generation after
 generation has  passed away; yet he alone remains, a living monu-
 ment of the olden time; and who, like the sturdy oak, the pride
 and monarch of the forest,  has not only been refreshed by the dews
 of the morning and basked in the sunshine, but has withstood the
fury of the storm and the  tempest, for a hundred  years.  His life,
 too, has been passed during  some of the most interesting periods
 in the history of our country — periods  full of intense anxiety and
 thrilling events.  He lived, in his childhood and youth, an unwilling

  * Mr. Benjamin Smith of Sturbridge, aged 92 years.
    Col. Ezra Allen, of Holland,     - -  -  80   "
    Dea. Elijah TarbeU, of Brimfield, -  -  85  "
    Mr. James Johnson, of Sturbridge, - - 81   "
    Mr. Simeon Drake, of Sturbridge, - - 80   "
    Gen. Salem Towne, of Charlton,  - - 80   " 
 12                    THE Cl'.LTli'KATjuN.

 subject of the King of (Jivat Britain ; he lived when the first blood
 was shed for American liberty: he lived when that august and il-
 lustrious band of patriots assembled at Philadelphia and declared
 these  colonies free  and independent:  he  lived through all that
 dark and stormy period of the  American Revolution—that period
 of romantic  incident and heroic bravery — when the oft repeated
 wrongs of cruelty and oppression  gave impulse to deeds of the
 most manly daring; he lived to see the colonies  free and indepen-
 dent— to see the Constitution, that great charter of civil  and re-
 ligious liberty, framed and adopted; he lived, too, when Wash-
 ington, that  thrice  illustrious  patriot, was  inaugurated  the first
 President of  these United States:  and he has lived, even  down to
 the present time, during the administrations of all  the successive*
 Presidents, most of whom have  long  since  passed  away, leaving
 their names as patriots and statesmen, enrolled high on the temple
of fame.
   He has lived, also,  in a period of the most wonderful inventions
— inventions  which have  astonished even  the  inventors ; when
 steam  has been successfully applied  as  a propelling  power, not
only to the varied  operations of mechanical industry, but to the
locomotive, which travels with unheard-of power and  speed ; and to
the vessel, which navigates the river, the lake and  the ocean — a
period, too, when knowledge and information are telegraphed from
 one  section of the country to another, however remote, with almost
the rapidity of thought.
   He has lived, too, to see his country honored, the first of any*
nation by an  embassy from Japan — that oriental nation which has
Lived in seclusion  for  centuries.  He  has lived, also, to hear, this
day, the telegraphic announcement of the arrival at New York of
the Great Eastern, that Monarch of the billows!—that great Le-
viathan steamer of the deep! — and  for this event  he  has waited
with the utmost patience to hear—just one hundred years!
   He has lived, too, to see  the general  diffusion of learning and
knowledge—the great aud unparalleled prosperity of his country;
to see  its population  multiplied in a tenfold proportion; also, to
see "the area of freedom extended" over a  vast domain,  whereby
the germs of civil liberty span the continent, extending even from
ocean to ocean,
               " O'er the land of the free
                 And the home of the brave."
   Truly, therefore, his days and years have been  passed  in a most
interesting period of time.
   Although his life has been long, and generally passed in peace
and tranquility :  yet, it has not all been sunshine;  for the clouds 
                      TJ-IE CFLEBRATT'.O".                     13

•if affliction have often o'ershadnwed his path, and sorrow stood
moaning at his door.   Nevertlieless, lie has always been sustained
in adversity ;find tribulation; because he confidently put his trust
in Him, "who hears, even the ravens when they cry."
   And, now, in the twilight of his life, when, with a cheering hope
ind with the eve of faitlu he sees the glimmer  of the sunshine beyond
the darkness of the cloud, we have come to do him reverence; we
have come, in sincerity of heart, and with the most lively emotions,
to vfter him our tribute of respect;  we have come to honor him as
a venerable Citizen — as a Man  highly esteemed, and as a  sincere
and conscientious Christian.  And, as  he reviews the many inci-
dents of his life; and  his thoughts  linger back, through the long
lapse of time, to  the  scenes of his  childhood;  may the reflection
inspire him witli Tenewed confidence, that he will receive  at last.
ihat divine plaudit, "Well done good and faithful servant."
   And may the events of this day gladden  his heart and cheer his
■spirits, in this, his exceeding old age.  Ard may this occasion, so
full of deep  feeling, and  serious reflection,  ever be  cherished in
grateful  remembrance, by all those  who participate in its enjoy-
ments.


                      ORIGINAL HYMN'.
              BY  MRS.   F .  n .  JOHNSON.

              "T is not for us to set a crown
                Upon this victor brow ;
              A crown not made with human hands
                Rests lightly on it now.

              Wrought from a century of years,
                Of work, and faith, and prayer ;
              Of household loves, and Christian ties —
                And Cod hath placed it there.

              Whom  God hath crowned, we reverence.
                Ours be the strife, to win,
              By years of full obedience,
                The guerdon granted him.       *->

              Through "length of days" these Pilgrim feet,
                In "paths of peace"' were found;
              We thank Thee,  God! a brighter crown
                Awuitcth him beyond. 
14
THk  CELEBRATION.
                    ADDRESS,

BIT   IR/IErV.  S.  S.   ZF-AS/XIIEIR/,
                 OF SOUTHBRIDGE.
   Custom and habit are despotic powers.  Addison, in one of the
 papers of the  Spectator, gives a humorous account of the oratorical
 habits of a speaker  in his time: — "I remember, when I was a
 young man, and  used to  frequent Westminster Hall, there was a
 counsellor who never pleaded without a piece of pack-thread in his
 hand, which he used to twist about a thumb, or finger, all the while
 he was speaking; the wags of those days  used to call it the thread
 of his discourse, for  he was not able to utter a word without it. —
 One of his clients, who was  more merry than wise, stole  it from
 him one day in the midst of his pleading; but be had  better let it
 alone, for  he  lost his case by bis jest."  So  the preacher who
 should speak without taking a text, the physician who should shake
 hands without concernedly  inquiring after your health,  or the lady
 who should pass a store without going  in  to see the new goods, or
 should come out without a nice little brown paper bundle, would
 excite an  emotion of surprise, if not  alarm;  if they themselves
 should not discover,  that they had gone so far out of their custom-
 ary element, as, like the unfortunate counsellor, not to know what
 to do.
   Happily for me, a text is already furnished and  opened in the
 occasion before us.  The  anniversary of  the one  hundredth year
 of the existence of one of your townsmen and fathers, of a towns-
 man and father whom we may call  fellow and neighbor to us all,
 could give  the current of our thoughts  but one  direction.   I come
 here,  with the  rest of you,  to sit at the feet and honor the years of
 this venerable  man;  and in the presence of a well-spent life and
 ripe and vigorous old age,  which  has scarcely more than touched,
 not seriously impaired or destroyed, the  forces of the body and
 mind, as  the airs of autumn  touch  and clothe  with a softer and
 more  sober splendor  the boughs and the turfs  of green, — in this
worthy presence, and  amidst these unwonted and  impressive sur-
roundings,  to urge to-day a plea for old age and old men.  And I
am glad of the opportunity, on an occasion so  favorable, to utter
some thoughts which have long been accumulating, and acquiring
fixedness and force, from my observation of certain facts and tend-
encies among us as a people. 
THE CELEBRATION.
15
   When I speak of old men, I mean those who may be properly and
honorably so called, — men, not prematurely old and decrepit, and
therefore useless, through the wear and exhaustion of  violent pas-
sions and  a misdirected life, but who have attained  the closing
period of earthly being  by a natural and easy descent; fruit, not
blasted and shriveling in the green of the bough, but coming  to
full ripeness, and lingering with a mellow fragrance, and delighting
the regaled senses, under the late  autumn  suns.  The idea is a
mistaken one, that old  age  is necessarily a worn-out and  sterile
period;  that it can have no vigor, attraction, or use;  that, like an
ancient piece of furniture, which has outlasted the brilliancy of its
fashion, it is to be set aside, or allowed to stand in decorous silence
in some  unoccupied corner.   The leading  minds, in almost  every
department of moral and intellectual effort, will generally be found,
the world over, to have  advanced far on towards that later stage of
life, where age sets its mark on the frame.  You can be pointed, this
day, to  some of the most clear and  vigorous intellects, elevated  to
positions of honor and responsibility, and wielding a powerful and
firmly-held  influence over men and affairs, in this land  and others,
that have seen, some of them  more than seen, their threescore years
and ten.   Humbolt, lately deceased,  Brougham,  the  first orator,
and Palmerston, the first politician,  of England, with the elder
Beecher and others of this country who might be named ; these fur-
nish an illustration of how it is possible to grow old, without growing
feeble and useless;  and how  the  freshness and animation, and the
activity and endurance, of a younger and more brilliant manhood,
may be  preserved and made  serviceable to an age, when most men
expect to be sleeping with their fathers.
   There is a geniality and  benevolence in men of age,  arising from
their wider observation and more  chastening experience of the
world,  which  is wanting  in younger men.  The untutored zeal
and impetuosity of youth,  its inexperience  in the ways of life, the
foibles and infirmities of human nature, and of the difficulties, some-
times impossibility, of realizing even the ordinary aims and  purposes
of life, quite disqualify it for that charitable judgment and  gentle
and forbearing treatment of others, so  necessary to social  and per-
sonal amenity and truth, which lend  such a charm and  gratefulness
to the society of the aged.  There can  be nothing richer, more de-
lightful and instructive, to a mind that loves sober and refined plea-
sures, than the conversation and intercourse of an intelligent man
or woman, who has gone through a long and varied life, chastened
by its discipline, stored with information, ready with incident or ob-
servation and  the  simplicity  and gaiaty of  sunny childhood  como
back! 
tfi
THE  CF.LFBRATIO-N'.
  And here, in this  sober  juvenility and  patient and forbearing
goodness of the aged, lies the secret of that  strong  attraction by
which children are drawn to them, and are led to open to them the
ambitions and  grief's  of their little  hearts with a confidence, which
is sometimes withheld from their own parents.  Indeed, there are
no better, faster  friends of  the  young, than the old.  What, per-
mit me to ask, would the boys do if there were no grandmothers —
no dear, kind, sympathizing, patient hearts, to hear their complaints
and sew ontheir buttons, when all the rest of the world ignores their
existence, or snubs them away?   The grandmother is a  unique,
glorious institution:  that home is incomplete,  and that family lacks
one of its most generous and mellowing  forces,  which  is without
her.  How many bleeding fingers and broken wagons have been
ear;led to her!  How many towering passions  has she reasoned
out of indignant and swollen  urchins!  How  many stacks of gin-
gerbread and pies, pies that  seemed  to proceed  from some  vast
secret reservoir of apple, and pumpkin, and chicken, has she dis-
pensed with her bountiful bauds !   And how many deserved flagel-
lations, after the  old-fashioned style and seat  of  application, have
you and I, good  friends, escaped through her timely and  potent
intervention!  Dear, good, loving, generous, large-hearted soul,
may you never be wanting at our firesides,  and never be forgotten
in our hearts.
   But not only should we cherish the presence of ihe aged for their
matured power and  wisdom, and the quality and benevolence of
their hearts; we  want them among us also for the silent, but not
ineffective, conservatism they exert on our manners, thoughts, pur-
poses, and life.   Allow me to sa)r, that we have this want, not  as
men merely, in common with all the members of the race, but espe-
cially as Americans- No one  questions that we are a great and
prosperous  nation.  We have  an  honorable  history, and there is
doubtless before us a career of expansion  and greatness.  But we
are and free from the imperfection and evil which  are incident to
everything human. While our free institutions, and our vase openings
and unrivaled facilities for  enterprise and trade, encourage a wide
and unexampled material and national development, they also stim-
ulate some side-shoots and under-growths, not contemplated in the
design of our planting. Among these may here be particularly men-
tioned, that leveling freedom and irreverence both of habits and
thought, easily passing over, if not in time counteracted, into general
infidelity and  lawlessness,  with which we deal with persons and
things,  and dignities and  powers, even the  most  venerable and
proved.   A proper self-assertion and independence are. indispen- 
THE  CELEBRATIOW.
17
sablo elements of strong and effective character;  but there is an
adjacent  territory, growing thick  with all manner of baleful and
destructive fruit, which may be  easily mistaken for it—licentious-
ness.  And what that will do, when it becomes a pervading element,
morally and politically, among a people, let the crimes and sorrows,
let the bloody and admonitory history, of atheistic and revolution-
ary France witness.
  Added to  this, and  existing  as a  kind of twin  evil,  there are
the impatience and  haste, and the stimulated growth  and unripe
and precocious development, which so much characterize our pur-
suit and  life, and so seriously detract from the solidity and perma-
nence of our success.  Our boys  grow  to be men, and  our girls,
women, too soon.   A youngster of fifteen, in these modern and
and  improved days, expects to smoke cigars and go  to see the
girls, like any other gentleman, if he does not also try his hand at
politics and swearing;  while a man of fifty, who may have just at-
tained the prime and  the  glory of his manhood and effectiveness,
and is therefore  most thoroughly qualified, from varied  study and
experience, and the long accumulation of mental stores and moral
force, to  serve his country and the race, is in his modest and valu-
able judgment only an "old fellow," who has seen his day! and
who can  be expected  to  have  no further employment  in life, than
to wear specs and read the newspapers.  An American is  a kind
of incarnated principle of speed; but his speed is too often the
uncertain and bewildering motion of the rocket,  which explodes
among the clouds, and not the steady and imposing movement of
the powerful locomotive, which draws a train of loaded cars after
it.   He  plants his beans, you  may be sure, and  plenty of them;
but then, he digs them up next  day to see if they are growing. If
the building of the world had been made a  matter of contract, he
would have bid for it, and he would have engaged to finish the job
in three  days, if not less; but it is exceedingly doubtful  if it would
have stood  to the present time.  The sky would have been blued
with a thin wash, the sun would have proved nothing but a clever
pinch-beck, all  his birds  would  have  been made the most unexcep-
tionable  spread eagles,  and instead of selling  wooden hams, as
report affirms  he did down in  Connecticut, the whole original
"critter" would have been pine!
   To these alloying tendencies and defects in our national charac-
ter, we want these  wiser minds and  these aged men among us to
act as a  counter and educating force.   We  want them  to counsel
moderation in  our speed, and  self-control in our freedom.  We
want them to keep from  dying out  among us the sentiments of
o 
18
THE  CELEBRATION.
 modesty, veneration, and subordination to rightful authority.   We
 want their venerable forms and  their white hairs to mingle with
 us, in our assemblies and at our firesides, to remind us of the limits
 of our opportunity and our strength, and to keep us from forgetting
 those more solemn and enduring truths and facts, which concern our
 future.  There is in the simple presence of the old a power over our
 thought and actions of which few ever stopped to think—a power, the
 more pervading  and  affective, because so undemonstrative and
 silent.  It is not in their presence these unseenly and evil growths
 of the mind, which deface or destroy character, put forth;  not there
 that youth learns  forwardness, levity indulges its folly, and loud-
 mouthed  irreligion proclaims its shame.   There is  something in
 those white hairs, there is something in that solemnity of age, there
 is something in that weight and glory  of years, and that patriarchal
 dignity and sacredness, which the Creator has flung  around those
 who have passed to the further limit of life, that  repress these as
 impertinances and encourage  better and manlier thoughts.
   Let us, then, cherish  and honor ever the old.  Let  us behold,
 with filial joy and reverential affection, these aged ones, whom
 heaven has loaned a little longer to us from its  society  and its re-
 wards.   Never come the thought, that they have outlived their
 use.  Never come the day, when  there shall  be no old among us,
 or they shall cease to be reverenced and loved by  us.   It will be a
 day, if ever it come,  of disaster and sorrow — a day that will mark
 the beginning of our national  decadence and fall.  That is a beau-
 tiful and significant  picture, which  Job gives of  himself, not as a
 prince, or man of character and benevolence only, but  as one also
 who had  seen years: —"The young  men saw me and hid them-
 selves : and the  aged arose and stood up.   The princes  refrained
 talking, and  laid  their hand on  their mouth.   When the  ear
 heard me, then it blessed me;  and when the eye saw me, it gave
 witness to me.  Unto me  men gave ear, and waited,  and kept
 silence- at my counsel.   After my  words they spake not again; and
 my speech dropped upon them.  And they waited for me as for
 the rain;  and they opened their mouth wide, as for the latter rain."
 Happy the people, and  strong the  elements of character of that
generation, among whom such filial and reverent virtues grow; and
happy their men of age, who bring to their years and their boariness
the piety  and wisdom,  the blameless lip and  the upright mind,
 which command the defence and honoring.
  I have thus far considered old age in it relation of serviceable-
ness to others.  In  the few words that  remain,—for  there are
 other speakers yet to follow in these interesting services—let me 
TnE CELEBRATION'.
IP
speak of its desirableness as a personal experience and attainment.
We not unfrequently hear the expression, inconsiderately I think
uttered, or called out by some unfortunate aspect in which age has
been seen, "I wish never to live to be old."  If to be old, means
to be decrepit and useless, and to be lingering amidst scenes, which
we can no  longer adorn or enjoy;  if it is to have the mind darkened
and the reason put out,  and to be  cast  a helpless and pitiful
wreck  upon hands that may decline or weary under the imposed
care ;  I do most fervently sympathize with the prayer.   Let never
such a calamity fall upon  you or me; let the ship go down while
her lights  are yet burning, and_her canvass yet spreads to the gales,
not drift on the waters dismantled and deserted.  But if it be only
to have the glory of the meridian changed to the glory of the sun-
set ; if it  be to carry a vigorous and capable manhood, subdued
and improved, into the contemplations and pursuits of a happy and
useful age; then I desire, in my time, to have my sun stand over
the Western hills and go down in the evening sky.  I wish to see
and enjoy as  much of this  life, and  contribute  as largely by my
influence, whatever it may be, to the  progress of the race and the
righting of the world, as I can.
   God has made us human,  and has made this world  and this life
the theatr*e of our human interests and affections, with innumerable
ties and attractions to attach and  detain  us here;  and not even
extremest old age, with the added motive of  religious expectations
and desire, ever  entirely  quenches those  affections, or disunites
those ties.  This aged father before us, though he has seen to-day
his hundred years, and though the gates of heaven seem to his
ripening spirit very near and desirable, retains doubtless  an interest
in the events  and fortunes of that  world, which  has been so long
his home, where is the land  which  he loved with a patriot's heart,
and where the great Captain of his  salvation fought and triumphed
for the redemption of its lost.
   The Christian's  interest in this world, it never departs from his
heart, it never ceases its warm throbbings and its holy activities in
his heart.  Age  does not  weaken it, death does not  quench it,
heaven will not absorb it.   From that height and glory, from  that
throne of  the Uncreated and Eternal, the glorified spirit will look
down upon the great battle waging here for the world's victory,
and the world's prize and dominion, with an undying and unspeak-
able interest — an interest that will only caluniiaate in a deeper and
more grateful  emotion, when that victory and supremacy shall have
passed to  him, who is the world's Creator and Lord. 
21)
THE  CELKURATION.
   I have thus but imperfectly sketched a subject, which is worthy
of a larger and more studied treatment.  It had been my purpose
to add some thoughts on the relation of an active and well-regulated
life, especially of one under the motive and government of religi-
ous faith  and principle, to  physical  health and  longevity.   But
having already trespassed beyond the limits assigned me, I  must
leave  what otherwise might be  appropriately said to the silent
teachings of the example, known of all men  and more effective
than words, of the man who  is yet fresh and young at a hundred
vears  old. 
TCKE CSXEBHATIOX.
ORIGINAL HYMN.
BY  DR.  H.  W. PAINTER, OF  WEST nAVEN, CT.


      Now let the cheerful song break forth,
         'T is not an hour for tears ;       •
      Recount a father's memories,
         Ye boys  of seventy years.

      Your limit, three score years and ten,
         And more, he long since knew;
      Speak kindly for the aged man,
         He once  was young like you!

      We have no sounding  names to call,
         As other nations can :
      He walketh in his well earned pride,
         An humble, honest man !

      God's heroes are unknown on earth,
         Yet meet us every day;
      They win their shining crowns of gold,
         Which cannot fade away,

      The here-crown of noble deeds,
        While more are striving on,
      To dare the right, defy the wrong :
        This diadem he won.

      A pilgrim—he hath born the staff
        Through fortune's smile and frown :
      A seaman—he outlived the  storm
        Where kindred ships went down.

      A veteran in the war of life,
        He never feared to die ;
      He waits but one — the closing strife.
        His record is on high. 
THE  CELEBRATION'.
    The golden sheaf, thus ripened long.
      The Master's kindly word
    Shall bid the  Angel reapers bring
      To th' garner of the Lord.

    The silver strand shall loosen soon,
      The wheel  more slowly roll,
    The pitcher rendeth at the fount,
      And breaks the golden bowl.

    Eternal God!  Our hope, our trust,
      When earth's poor trifles flee,
    Our waiting souls, the old, the young,
•     Fold kindly up to Thee. 
THE  CELEBRATION.
                 POEM.

BY REV.  G.  M. PRESTON, OF MEDFORD, MASS.
 Time moves its onward course; its rolling years
 Denote our progress through this "vale of tears."
 They mark our birth, and tell our dying day,
 When from this native earth we pass away.
 As smiling seasons, in their yearly round,
 While sweets from heaven and fruits of earth abound,
 Prepare the way each for the other's reign;
 So life's events, of pleasure or  of pain,
 Succeed each other.   And while Heaven smiles,
 The earth, with her ten thousand charms, beguiles.

 I see a little child, who sports with flowers,
 Which breathe their fragrance from the loveliest bowers.
 For human life to him is blooming spring;
 And many fairy hands he bids to bring
 The precious fruits of coming happy years.
 He sees beyond no gloomy "vale of tears."

 I see a full-grown man, whose youth is past.
 Life to its various duties bnids him fast.
 His plans are not matured;  he  puts his hand
 By venture to the plow, to break the land,
 To sow the seeds of future hope, and then
 To fix his place among the sons of men.
 Beneath the summer's sun he daily toils,
 To write his future name, and gain the spoils,
 To which  ambition gazes with delight,
 Which in  the distance seem enshrined in light.
 He 's like the summer tree, well-filled and green,
 Whose fruit unripe is better to  be seen
 Than tasted.  Its sweetness is yet to come,
 When  Autumn's minstrels sing "The Harvest Home."

I see an aged man.  The prime of life
Has fallen in earth's hardest, saddest strife.
But still the vict'ry's won:—the riddle's solved.
I 
24
THE  CELEBRATION.
   What he has done and what he has resolved7,
*  When measured by each other, plainly give
   The balance to the latter.  For to live
   Is not to think, but do, to feel and move,
   To execrate, to influence and love.
   The bud not always yields the beauteous flower,
   Nor does the blossom fruit.  In one brief hour,
   Does beauty fade.   By one sharp piercing blast
   The fruit unripe doth fall.   But few at last,
   Reach ripe maturity, and green old age,
   And loved by children's children leave the stage.
   These few, if virtuous, are greatly loved.
   It is a loss to have them e'er removed.
   Like fair ripe clusters gathered from the vine,
   Or like  the precious ore fresh from the mine,
   They 're perfect in this life's maturity.
   Their future  perfection in Heaven must  be.
   Earth has no more for them.  They 're ripe for Heaven,
   Life's rich reward will soon be fully given.

   We  celebrate to-day the old man's birth,
   Who's  seen  one hundred  years of this frail earth.
   One hundred years, one hundred years  to-day,
   Our aged sire was born.   Through death's delay.
   He stands before us now.    One hundred years,
    Of action, thought, of love, and joy and fears!
    Well may we honor him, and every other
   Like him advanced; for never will another
   Reach his one hundred years.  In this  fast age,
    When every thing with such a killing rage
    Goes forward, railroad speed is not enough.
    Yankees  are bent to find  some certain proof
    That men can take the air or  telegraph,
    And go at a speed to make the serious  laugh.
    We have no childhood now.  That's out of date-.
    Men live in our days at a faster  rate.
    Long slender canes and sixpenny cigars,
    With beaver hats and striped pants  and airs,
    Make their appearance first.  The nursery
    Must fit these fast young men, before they see
    The great " out-doors."   'T is then their life beginsv
    They talk, they walk, commit their little sins;
    What puny things they are!  Such feeble men,
    We 've never seen before,  nor hope to  seo agaiiw 
THE  CELKIIRATION.
15 pouchitis, or rheumatism, tooth-ache,
Neuralgia, gout, consumption, fever make
An end of them.   A voyage to Europe
May serve to keep their fainting spirits up.
If not, a score ef doctor's kill or cure,
With pills and bills, to make their practice sure.
All sorts of path ias come to give their aid.
Of some of them we need not be afraid.
They '11 neither kill nor cure.
                         And then again.
We have a thousand ways of killing men.
For some are killed by pistol or bowie-knife.
And some are slain amid chivalry's strife;
Some die by steam and some by sham-built walls.
How oft a fatal accident befalls
Some hapless one.  Then poison quickly kills
Which gently flows in many charming rills.
For fancy drinks,  quack medicines will do
Their rapid work, and put us quickly through
Our mortal course.  The sextan and  the coroner
Go  hand in hand.  The doctor and the minister
Are no less friends than they.
                         Enough of  this.
What were our honored sires? the question is.
Let this our reverend father say,
What were the habits of his early day?
When men enjoyed their life, ate  simple food,
 Sought not for strange things, but sought for the good.
They treasured health, from wholesome food and air,
Not from the doctors, and from foreign fare.
 He lived when patriots lived, when brave ones fell,
 To save their homes,  and to their children tell,
 That life and death their liberty obtained;
 The rights of men, their precious  rights  maintai..
 He represents that age, that glorious age,
 Whose brave events adorn "historic page."
 We need not call the  spirits of the dead:
 We have the living.   See that  hoary head.
 'T is whitene 1 by wo  frosts of a hundred years,
 A hundhv..;  .ars  of bright'ning hopes and fears
 ]>....-■ dark ,vi' sad, as life goes on its course.
 For he has found of hope, tbe heavenly  source 
26
THE  > t l.KHKATIUX.
 And fear'b no slavish fear, but love to Ilim.
 Who sits between the heavenly Cherubim.
 Like aged Polycarp, "t is his to say: —
" It's been my joy to love and Him obey,
 For eighty-six of these the pilgrim's years.
 And what of duties, what of grievous  cares.
 My Maker bids me pass;  should death be mine
 To meet, I '11 curse not Him, I '11 ne'er repine."
 And more than this, our aged friend can say;
 For longer still than this he 's loved to pray.

 [ see before me those who greet their sire,
 And meet beneath this known and loved  church-spire.
 From distant homes on this our country's soil.*
 What earthly honors, and what costly spoil,
 Can equal what our honored sire enjoys,
 And on this sacred day, his thought employs.
 To see his children and his children's  down
 To several generations !   Such renown
 No Kings can have.   The patriarchal reign
 Has honors which no modern Kings otbain.

 My father, venerated sire!  To you
 [ give the honors of this day.   But few
 Have reached your age.   But not for length of days,
 Would we now honor you.  'T is Heaven's praise.
 But we would thank you for your useful  life;
 We thank you for your seal in our country's strife;
 We thank you for your influence, good sense,
 And patriotic  pride, your proud defense
 Of all that's right and good and true and wise ;
 These qualities we deem  a valued prize.
  You 've lived to see your children's children bend
 Before your God, — His noble cause  defend.
 You 've seen them cultivate the lovely spot,
  You with your comrades bold have bravely bought.
 They 've fallen in the strife.   To tyrant  Death
 They 've yielded long ago.  But mortal  breath
 Inspires thee still.  Life's battle is not done.
 The victory is pronounced, though not yet won.
 The better land you seek is near at hand,
  * This was written with the supposition that friend* from the We^-  *  uld >•*
present. 
THE  CELEBRATION.
27
On Jordon's other bank you soon will stand.
Eternal youth and strength you soon will see;
Heaven's finished mansions too.  Eternity
By years or centuries is never measured.
Then love and joy and peace are always treasured,
To fill thy soul, to make thee truly blest,
When weary life shall end in heavenly rest.
May life's brief remnant shine with radiant hope,
May light Celestial keep thy spirit  up.
And  when on earth no more you with us stay,
May  angels celebrate thy natal day.
  Benjamin D. Hyde, Esq., of  Sturbridge,  now  arose and made
an eloquent off-hand speech — addressed, for the most part, to the
cenerahle Patriarch, occupying the center seat of the platform be-
fore him.  He said, he had, himself, been personally acquainted
with him ever since  he could  remember — for more than half a
century; and he could bear testimony to his worth — as a man —
a citizen and a Christian.   That no blot had ever attached to his
character, &c, &c.
   [This speech being wholly extemporaneous, and no notes taken
of it, cannot be further reported in this place.]

                        ANTHEM:
  "Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright, for the end of
                       that man  is peace.

   After the benediction, pronounced by Rev. Andrew Reed, of the
 church in  Fiskdale, the audience retired to a bower, prepared for
 the occasion,  in which were tables laden with good  things; at the
 head of one of which sat

                 DEACON  JOHN  PHILLIPS. 
• 
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V
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