The Cornerstone
a brief life of John Murray for young people, by Irene Carrow Rees
XIII. The Crest of the Hill
"Before his journey closes, He shall find the stubborn thistle, bursting Into glossy purples, which outredden All voluptuous garden roses."
TENNYSON.
In 1785 the Boston Universalists purchased Dr. Mather's old meeting house at the corner of North Bennet and Hanover streets and on October 23, 1793, Mr. Murray was installed as pastor. It was agreed that the Gloucester parish might command his services in any need and that a portion of his time should still be theirs.
Now that Mr. Murray had a wife and family dependent on him, he was obliged to accept a stated salary but he yielded to the necessity with reluctance. For thirteen years he had taken from day to day "what the Lord provided. " He exercised the same faith with regard to his preaching' and depended wholly on the inspiration of the moment.
"Had I prepared my sermons," he often said, "my English would have been more elegant, but I should have missed the joys and blessings of a life of faith."
Shortly after his removal to Boston, he bewailed in a letter to a friend the high cost of living in the city. "I suffer much from the high prices," he wrote. "Though I have twenty-two dollars a week. Butter is twenty cents a pound; eggs sixteen cents a dozen; milk six cents a quart; the best beef nine cents a pound and we are obliged to pay our maid in the kitchen one dollar a week!
Mr. Murray had now reached the Indian Summer of his life and it held golden rewards for the previous days of conflict when he had sought the path of duty rather than that of pleasure. There were still battles to be fought, but friends were numerous and powerful. The Roston parish regarded him with unlimited confidence and affection. His relation with his young people was unique among New England ministers for he not only encouraged their innocent pleasures but made merry with them himself.
Mrs. Murray was a great help always in parish work, but she sometimes carried her championship of her husband to great lengths. Hosea Ballou once supplied the Hanover Street pulpit for several weeks while Mr. Murray was in the South. On the last Sunday Mrs. Murray was much displeased with the ground he took on some doctrinal point. During the prayer she beckoned a member of the choir to her and asked him to announce that the doctrine to which they had listened that morning was not the doctrine usually taught from that pulpit. Unwillingly the gentleman did so just after the singing of the last hymn. Mr. Ballou merely remarked courteously, "You have heard what the brother has said, I beg you to take note of the same, and pronounced the benediction. This incident made a tremendous stir. The congregation was indignant and held a meeting after service to appoint a committee to call on Mr. Ballou that evening with an apologyThe unfortunate member of the choir was severely dealt with, but it did not seem to occur to any one that it was possible to deal with the chief offender, Mrs. Murray.
September 4, 17931 the year Mr. Murray came to Boston, a General Convention was held at Oxford, Massachusetts, and the organization then formed has never since failed to hold a yearly meeting.
The Universalist ministers were frequently challenged to debates by the leading clergy of other denominations. These discussions, which drew together large audiences and did much toward the rapid spread of the faith, were usually a keen battle of wits, well worth listening to and much enjoyed even by those who had -no vital interest in the outcome; they were something of a social function-like the singing school. The ammunition for this warfare was drawn almost wholly from the Bible and the ease with which the opposed clergy hurled texts at each other proved they had at least searched the Scripture. Mr. Murray was an adept at this kind of controversy.
Down in Pennsylvania there was a traveling preacher of the same name, Rev. Noah Murray, who was also keen in argument. On one of his journeys he was challenged to debate by a Baptist clergyman. The two sat down together at sunset with their Bibles. The Baptist had secured the only large Bible with concordance in America, hoping thus to duly impress and dishearten his adversary at the start. At sunrise they were still at it, but with this differenee — the Baptist had changed his views, to the great indignation of his flock, and his subsequent liberal preaching so angered them, that his resignation was demanded.
In Boston at a later day, Dr. Lyman Beecher and Hosea Ballou had a famous debate. At its close, there was an open discussion, in the course of which Dr. Beecher quoted from Psalms 9:17, "The wicked shall be turned into hell and all nations that forget God.
"Now, Brother Ballou," he said, turning to him, "I have got them into hell, let's see you get them out!"
"In Revelations we are told," responded Father Ballou, calmly, "Death and hell delivered up the dead which were in them, and death and hell were cast into the lake of fire.' Now, Brother Beecher, I have got them out, let's see you put them back again!
Murray still traveled during the summer and in 1790 visited Philadelphia, where the Universalists had never ceased to endeavor to secure his services permanently. They now offered him a house and a yearly income of L400 if he would consent to become their pastor. They were willing to give him abundant time to settle his Eastern affairs. The offer was a tempting one, especially as the church was made up of people of unusual intelligence and high position. The family of Benjamin Franklin was among the number. Mr. Murray could not make up his mind to leave the New England friends who had so loyally stood by him in his hours of trial.
It was during this summer that he made a special pilgrimage to Good Luck — a sad one —for his old friend, Mr. Potter, had passed away. The heat was intense and the long dusty ride with no cordial welcome to be anticipated at its close was disagreeable in the extreme. He arrived at sunset and took a solitary walk about the place. As he passed the kennel, a strange dog growled and strained at its chain to get at him. He passed the garden where Mr. Pot,ter and he had, so often worked together; it was overgrown with weeds and brambles. Years ago they had planted trees in opposite corners; his own was green and sturdy, Mr. Potter's withered and dead "as it should be," said Mr. Murray. "I could not bear, in my grief, to see anything flourishing when the master of the fields was no longer there."
In the quiet grove back of the meeting house, he stood with uncovered head by the grave already bright with delicate wild flowers. Shafts of sunset light came through the trees and made a little cathedral of the place. The rustling of the leaves or the song of a bird as it sank to rest were the only sounds to break the silence. Long Mr. Murray stood with overflowing eyes. "Oh, why did I not come oftener? I might have done," he cried. It was the old regret, old as man. Always the things we might have done so easily are those that torment.
As he went back to the house, Mrs. Potter came to meet him; neither could speak for emotion, but they sat long in silent communion on the rustic seat which Mr. Potter bad built beneath the trees.
On Sunday morning he stood once more, and for the last time, in the little pulpit. There were many old friends in the congregation but the majority were strangers. Looking through the open window toward the lonely grave beneath the trees, Mr. Murray preached a sermon that was partly a memorial to the dead and partly a clarion call to the living to close in the ranks and press forward.
In his will, Mr. Potter had left the meeting house with the acre of land surrounding it. To my ever dear friend, John Murray. Owing to the mismanagement of the executors, who brought in fraudulent bills, a portion of the estate had to be sold to satisfy the demands upon it. When the deed was passed no reservation of the meeting house was made and the little church subsequently came into the hands of the Methodists.