Front matter
CONGRESS.
AMERICA, f ^. C/CuuuS a^^y/c^
JOSEPH P. FAIRBANKS
II
In 1826 Mr. Fairbanks commenced the study of Law with his uncle, Judge Ephraim Paddock, of St. Johnsbury. Upon this he entered with much earnestness. The principles and reasonings of the law were congenial to his tastes, and he found a pleasure in making them his own. He did not merely enter his name in a lawyer's office, as is too often the case, giving his chief attention to other pursuits ; nor did he " read law," as the fashionable phrase now is ; but he studied it in its intricacies and subtleties till he was supposed to be fitted for the bar. When he presented himself for examination, by the united testimony of those present, he sustained a more thorough examination than any one who had previously come before them.
At the time he entered upon the study of law he evidently had some ambitious views, and was expecting to make it the means of official preferment. In a letter to a particular friend, then a member of Dartmouth College, who was inclined to study medicine as a profession, he thus writes, with the hope of changing his intended course of study : " I think the profession of the Law affords a greater chance to excel, and a better opportunity of being employed in official stations, than the profession of Medicine. A large proportion of the offices of trust and honor in this republic have ever been rilled by persons who were educated for the bar."
This is the only indication in any of his writings that he ever thought of official honors. The whole course of his subsequent life showed that he had no such aims.
While engaged in the study of law, he commenced Latin under such private instruction as could be obtained in the place of his residence. To his legal, classical, and some literary studies he devoted an unusual amount of time every day, reserving far too little for exercise and sleep. When remonstrated with by his friends for allowing himself so little time for rest, he confidently assured them that he needed but four hours a day for sleep. This was a serious mistake, and one which he never entirely corrected. During his whole life he allowed himself less time for rest than his constitution required.
After he was admitted to the bar, he practised law for one year with his uncle, Judge Paddock. He then opened an office on his own account, at the same time acting as the postmaster of the place, and keeping a small book-store. Of his practice at this time he thus writes to a friend : " The small business of the office is increasing, and I hope to make a living here, though riches are out of the question, for the present at least. I have had no opportunity, as yet, of discovering whether I have any declamatory qualities, the great criterion of a good lawyer in common estimation ; and perhaps it is well that I have not, as I may thereby have escaped the ridicule of the public. I shall, however, make the desperate trial when I have a disputable case. The good people here are so peaceable, that they seem but little inclined to assist a poor lawyer by engaging in quarrels, as in all conscience they should do, if they intend that every one should live by his trade." But the " desperate trial " he never made ; for his experience was daily teaching him, that, deep as was his interest in the study of the law, and profound as might be his admiration of the principles on which it was based, the practice of it was ill adapted to his delicate sensibilities and self-distrust. For this reason he began to entertain thoughts of abandoning the profession. In a letter to a friend he says : " It is somewhat uncertain whether I shall stay in this place; my business is not very good, and I should like better some other employment. I hope yet, however, that I shall be able to stay here." Among his memoranda the following extract is found, which undoubtedly refers to his experience in the practice of law : " I was called to mingle with the cold and heartless world, and its chilly atmosphere struck a damp upon my soul. I was disgusted with its selfishness and hypocrisy ; and gladly would I have led the life of a hermit rather than have encountered its turmoils and embarrassments."
It is not an easy matter for a young man just setting out in life to abandon his chosen pursuit. He knows how many eyes are upon him, watching his progress and his prospects ; he is conscious that a change of profession will be viewed by many as a confession of failure or mistake. His confidence in himself, too, is liable to be impaired ; yet, in full view of all this, after many struggles and misgivings, Mr. Fairbanks concluded to relinquish the law, after he had been in the practice a little less than three years.
From childhood the subject of this sketch had been impressed by religious truth. Though his life to human view was blameless, he knew that God looketh not upon the outward appearance, but upon the heart. . He knew that while the fountain and springs of action were wrong, his life, however faultless in the view of men, was not right in the sight of God.
In the year 1827 there was a powerful revival of religion in Dartmouth College ; of this some of Mr. Fairbanks's early associates and particular friends had become the hopeful subjects ; and in their correspondence they had given him an account of its progress, and faithfully urged upon him a serious consideration of the same subject. This undoubtedly had much influence in arresting his attention, and leading him to consider his religious interests with more seriousness than ever before. We have no record of the struggles and conflicts of this period, of his deep searchings of heart and penitence for sin ; these were all between himself and his God. But that the change was a thorough and radical one was abundantly attested by the life of humble and consistent piety that followed it.
Such had been the purity and blamelessness of his life, that, as his pastor remarked, no one would detect any change in him ; yet he humbly trusted, though he was sometimes in darkness, that a real change had been wrought. He found new sources of happiness, and marked out for himself new and higher ends of life.
In 1828, he united with the Church on St. Johnsbury Plain, then under the pastoral care of Rev. James Johnson. He continued an exemplary and useful member of it till 1852, when he transferred his relation to the South Church.
The following extract from a letter to his friend A., residing at the South, shows how early he began to consider the corrupting influences at work in society, as well as the earnestness of his religious character, and his fidelity to the spiritual interests of his friend : " Your opinion of the Opera I should coincide with, from your description of it. How many schools for vice does our country throng with, and how faint a resistance is made to them. Even men of professed principle and morality, for the sake of money, will embark both influence and capital in the promotion of what is ruinous to the character, happiness, the present and eternal interests of their fellow-men, under the specious plea, that, ' if they do not, others will.' They strive to present vice in its most alluring forms, and to cover the path to ruin with flowers ; and thus the unhappy victim is deluded, till he falls a sacrifice to vain, unsatisfying pleasure. Few of our youth will turn away from the alluring paths of vice when under the mask of pleasure.
"But cease to moralize, friend J., you will say; and so I will, dear A. ; but suffer me to touch on another topic that I introduced into my former letter. Suffer me to ask you if you think on the subject of religion. I know you think of it ; you cannot avoid it. But do you give it the candid attention it deserves 1 or do you heedlessly drive your thoughts into a different channel when they wander beyond the grave 1 I am ignorant of your views on the subject. I think you believe in the doctrines of the Bible ; if so, you must know the importance of a speedy preparation for death, for the delay of one hour may be attended with the loss of the soul. Can any one with the exercise of reason run so great a risk ] I am sure your reason must be convinced of the importance of this subject ; and will you not, my friend, go with me and enlist in the service of the Prince of Peace % So far as I have proved His service, it is easy — it is delightful. I experience a degree of positive happiness that I once thought unattainable. What I once thought a dream, I find a reality. What once seemed a delusion of fancy, appears a truth of the deepest interest. Possibly, A., you will say : ' This strain well becomes a minister, but is absurd for you to use.' But why so % I have discovered that I was placed in this world by a wise Being" to prepare for another ; and I have determined with His assistance to take Christ for my example, and to strive to live as though each day I enter upon was the last. I think you must have been convinced that I was your friend when you resided here ; and I can candidly say that if ever I enjoyed a person's society, if ever I felt an interest in a person's welfare, it was yours. But whatever I may have felt towards you heretofore, I can assure you I now feel a deeper interest, a more intense anxiety for your welfare than ever before."
The following letter was written to his cousin, Miss Paddock, while he was on a visit to Maine, and is another illustration of his interest for the spiritual welfare of his friends : —
" I expected to have seen you again, my cousin C, before I left St. Johnsbury. I was anxious to see you because you seemed to me more thoughtful than usual on the subject of religion ; and to see your attention engaged in this would give me sincere pleasure. There are few, my dear cousin, for whom I feel any deeper interest than for the common family of mankind, and you are one of these few. You know we have always been intimate friends from your childhood. We have associated together, we have conversed with each other ; and while I have esteemed you, I have had the vanity to believe that I possessed your esteem in return. You may well suppose, then, that I have earnestly hoped that our friendship would not terminate with our brief existence here, but that it would be prolonged through the countless ages of another world. To secure this you know a change of heart is necessary. I have a hope that I have experienced this change, and I most anxiously desire that you may possess the same hope. I wish, too, that you may possess it now. This subject is of such a nature, that, if we put it off to any future time, we are continually getting further from that time, instead of approaching it. The expectation that we shall be better prepared then than now is delusive. Now is the best time — the only time we are sure of.
" But do you inquire, dear cousin, what you shall do to obtain a change of heart I Give yourself to God ; dedicate all the powers and faculties of your mind to Him, and give up everything that you think inconsistent with His service. In whatever we do, we must rely on God for His assistance. We must ask Him for it; and we have His promise to assist us. We need to know what our situation is, before we have repentance and faith. We ought to ask God, then, to show us our hearts. We ought to examine ourselves. ' What is it that God has required us to doT and ' Have we done all this]' God requires us to love Him with our whole heart, and our neighbor as ourselves. ' Now, have I loved God supremely ! '
I fear that no one can say that he has loved Him with his whole heart ; and if he has not, he has broken God's holy law, — he has sinned. Oh, C, I fear that the most innocent, if they will examine their hearts, will find themselves very sinful. I fear that you would find yourself a very great sinner. How much need, then, that you should earnestly plead with God to pardon you for Christ's sake, who has made atonement for your sins by His death. Will you not now make a resolution that with God's assistance you will no more disobey Him \ That you will endeavor to do all that He has shown you to be your duty, and to make it your daily study to learn what duty is \ If you will make this firm determination, with a humble reliance on God, and try to fulfil it all in your power, I believe that God will assist you, and save you. I hope you will go this day and give yourself away to Him. I can tell you, it will add to your happiness, and you will lose no rational enjoyment. Study your Bible much, and, in the language of that holy volume, ' Watch and pray.' Let this be your motto."
This cousin, in whose conversion Mr. Fairbanks felt so deep an interest, shortly after became a humble and consistent Christian ; and he who thus faithfully pointed her to the Saviour at length smoothed her path to the grave and robbed it of its terrors, having himself trod the " dark valley" but a few weeks before her. And now that friendship which he hoped would not terminate with this life, is cemented by a bond which none of the changes or vicissitudes of time can ever weaken.
The following is a specimen of the pleasant and playful style in which he often wrote to his cousin just alluded to. It is dated, Augusta, Me., September 10, 1831.
" The stillness of evening has a strange tendency to lead the mind of the wanderer back to home, and often when the day is fading away in the west, and darkness regaining her empire, Fancy will wrest the reins from Reason's hands and gallop off full speed to the Green Mountains, and take a view of those with whom I have fondly and happily associated in by-gone days. She begins at the village, and just peeps into each house, scarcely stopping to say, 'How do you do,' till she arrives at the head of the Plain ; and then, retracing her steps, she carelessly loiters along with a few, the most familiar friends, till some rude jostle or noise calls her back to Maine, or till she becomes tired or jaded with exertion, and is glad to give up the chase."
To the same he writes :
" The influence of the Holy Spirit, I trust, still abides with you, and will continue to till all are brought into the fold of Christ. 1 have sometimes been pained with the thought that the revival might cease, and then some of those I have associated with will be without a hope of pardon, and be less likely to obtain such a hope than if they had never witnessed the display of God's power there. But I think the revival will not cease. Its continuance is of such overwhelming importance that I hope you will wrestle with God to save all.
" I often think of the Sabbath school ; and when the hour of twelve comes, I think of the pleasure it would give me to meet my scholars. I often think I have not been so faithful to them as I should have been, and wish that the opportunity was not past to amend it. There is a weight of responsibility resting on us in regard to the Sabbath school, which ought often to be brought to mind. The time is short that we can work, but while it lasts, we have an opportunity which we ought to improve faithfully. I hope, C, that we shall both live more devoted to Christ ; but I find myself so frail, so liable to get away from Him, that I feel the need of your prayers."
Other letters of Mr. Fairbanks, written at this time, show a lively interest in the growth of vital piety in his own heart, among his friends, and in the Church generally. Though he often speaks despondingly of his own religious state, like Cowper, looking upon himself distrustfully, those who knew him best had the fullest assurance of the integrity and consistency of his Christian character. This is corroborated by the following entry in his Memoranda, Sunday, July 10, 1831, when forty-seven were admitted to the Church of which he was a member :
" This is a solemn day. Many are about to enter into covenant with God, to dedicate themselves to Him, and separate themselves from the world. What cause for gratitude! 'T is of God's unexampled goodness that these forty-seven souls have been snatched from the ranks of His adversary, and washed in the blood of Christ. Oh, unspeakable love, undeserved goodness ! This morning I have been up to the house of the Lord for prayer. The Spirit, I trust, was present. How delightful to see the children of God assembled on the still Sabbath morning, before their minds are distracted with the cares of life, sending up the united desires of their hearts to the mercyseat. Great God, give me a heart to engage more fervently in this devout exercise, and do Thou give me more of Thy Spirit."
III
Before closing the practice of law at St. Johnsbury, Mr. Fairbanks had made arrangements to engage in mercantile business at Troy, Vt. Here he commenced trade early in April, 183£, in company with his cousin, Horace Paddock, of St. Johnsbury.
Mr. Fairbanks had not made this change without many a struggle. He had gone from his home with many regrets and much despondency. He had left behind him a circle of friends, whose tastes and sympathies were congenial with his own. He had just relinquished a profession, to which he had looked forward as the business of his life, under the conviction that he was destitute of some elements of character requisite to success in it. But his feelings are best indicated by the following extract from a letter to a friend : " We all seem to consider ourselves a world by ourselves ; if it were such a world as you have at St. Johnsbury, I could be contented ; but the inhabitants are not just such as I left, and I fear never will be. I would not have you suppose, however, that I am discontented. I have made up my mind to call this home, and make it so if possible ; and, although I do not enjoy the privileges, social and religious, that I did at St. Johnsbury, and do not find the refinement nor meet the faces of friends as I did there, I still contrive to make time pass without being very oppressive, though the hours and minutes between our semi-weekly mails seem rather long."
The following from his Memoranda relates to the same subject : " Eight weeks have elapsed since I bid adieu to the scenes of my early days. I feel as though I were a solitary thing on this earth. Time has been rolling on the vast affairs of man down its rough and swelling waves ; pleasure, wealth, and honors have been pursued with ceaseless toil ; some have pushed their way safely ahead ; some have been dashed against the rocks, and have sunk to rise no more. Amid this busy scene I simply exist ; my solitary bark floats silently along the current, unmarked and unregarded."
The interest with which he regarded his early home and the scenes and associations connected with it, rising to an almost enthusiastic reverence, is indicated by an extract from his Memoranda :
"June 13, 1882. Returned to St. J. last week, and spent one night. I cannot describe the feelings I experienced when I found myself again on the spot which above all others I value, and which is hallowed by recollections the most interesting, and the most deeply engraved upon my heart. I stopped at the head of the Plain, before the office where I had spent so many happy hours in professional and literary studies. It was dark and silent ; only a few lights were seen twinkling at the windows down the street ;
but still every object around me seemed to claim acquaintance. The shade-trees, the houses, the fields, the hills which rose darkly against the horizon, seemed to greet their old admirer with silent joy. Even the stars which so brightly studded the heavens, and with which I had so often held a joyful intercourse ' in days that are past and gone,' seemed to recognize their old friend, and to send forth a brighter and yet softer splendor than I had before observed for months. It was a glad — sad meeting ; and the inclination to stand still and enjoy the scene, or to move on, was so nearly balanced that I could hardly muster resolution to proceed."
The following is from a letter written to his cousin C, soon after his first visit home, referred to in the preceding extract :
" You see that I am again an inhabitant of Troy. I reached home the next day after I saw you. Since then, Troy has seemed like another place, and I begin to think that I can contentedly take up my abode here for years. But I cannot so easily transfer the local attachment I have for St. Johnsbury scenes to this place. Every house, tree, and shrub, every hill and valley in that place, often passes in review before my mind's eye, and awakens recollections of other days. I believe I did not tell you how long I was in going from the head of the Plain to father's, the evening in which I" arrived at St. Johnsbury. In the first place, I stopped my horse at the office, then rode up to Mr. P.'s door : they were all still, and so I passed on ; tried to peep into H.'s, but could not catch a glimpse of any one, though a light was burning ; called at E.'s store, and knocked, but received no answer ; paused before the house of God, where I had spent so many happy hours. The silence of death prevailed, and the scene awakened feelings almost too powerful to control. I passed on till I came where some of the 'dead forgotten lie,' and some remembered. I went on, and every step was associated with interesting events, and vividly called up the recollections of the days when I was surrounded with friends. But you will call me unmanly, and well you may, if I continue in this strain."
The feelings here expressed in regard to his home and the painful regrets at being separated from it may seem extravagant, and tinged with a poetic coloring ; but they are no more than a true indication of his actual experience. His attachment to his home was like that of a child ; he could never forget it. He loved to remember the hills that rose up in grandeur around it on all sides, and the valleys, and the meadows, and the beautiful streams that flowed through them. It was not the artificial attractions of his home that made it a centre of such unwavering interest ; it was on no stately mansion or richly furnished apartments that his thoughts lingered ; in his own words, " the rude house occupied by my father's family for several years would hardly be regarded, at the present day, a comfortable shelter for cattle;" but his simple tastes, his warm affections, his open and unveiled heart, his quick sympathy with the beauties of Nature strewn lavishly around the home of his youth, his delicacy of feeling too refined for the sterner features of the world, found more that was congenial among his early friends, and in the humble spot which he always called his home, than in the circles of fashion or the abodes of wealth.
On his birthday of this year (1832) he makes the following entry in his Memoranda, showing that he had taken a faithful survey of the past, and indicating his purposes and resolutions for the future :
" Twenty-six years have now elapsed since I first opened my eyes on this world. Twenty-six years have thus joined the past eternity, never to be recalled ; but how many years of the eternity future I am to pass in this state of probation God only knows. Whether few or many, it becomes me to spend the time more profitably than I have heretofore done. Religion is my chief concern ; and, with the assistance of God, I will hereafter make it my first business to serve Him faithfully and acceptably ; and in whatever I may engage, I will strive to make my conduct accessory to His glory. O Lord, assist me to obey Thee more implicitly.
" Subsidiary to the discharge of religious duties, I will make the improvement of my mind my great object of pursuit. To accomplish this, I will endeavor as much as possible to reduce everything to a system, whether business, study, or recreation. So far as is necessary I will apply myself assiduously to business, but leisure shall be spent in study on such subjects as are useful. In my intercourse with my fellow-men I will make the rule of right my only guide ; and in conversation I will avoid as much as possible speaking of the character of others, unless I can commend them. O Thou all-wise God, grant me wisdom to perform the above resolution ; and may my life be so guided by the spirit of the gospel, that I may be progressing in divine knowledge and growing in grace."
Shortly after he settled at Troy, and before he could have accumulated more than a few hundred dollars, he commenced that system of benevolent effort for educating young men for the ministry in which he afterward took so deep an interest. In his memoranda of August 7? 1832, he thus writes : (i Wrote to D. K., renewing my offer to assist him in his studies preparatory for the ministry. With the aid of my great Benefactor, I propose to render him what pecuniary assistance he may need in acquiring an education for that profession ; and if I should die before he has completed it, I wish my brothers to take what property I may have, and see that object accomplished."
The advantages which he had derived from the literary association with which he was connected- at St. Johnsbury, led him to desire the formation of a similar one at Troy. In a letter to his friend A.
g6 MEMORIAL.
he thus gives an account of such an organization, with his usual modesty keeping his own agency out of si<?ht : " A few of our most intelligent men have formed themselves into a club, meet once in two weeks, take two or three reviews, and, at their meetings, either read a dissertation, discuss some popular subject, or enter into free conversation on literary and scientific subjects. I have been admitted a member of this association, and have found it a source of profit ! "
While Mr. Fairbanks was pursuing his business at Troy, with no expectation or thought of change, influences were at work elsewhere which were to give a new direction to his life, and ultimately to place him in a situation where his energies and character would be more successfully developed. His brothers, 1 since extensively known as the firm of E. and T. Fairbanks, had a short time before commenced the manufacture of their celebrated Platform Scales. The great accuracy of these, and their superiority over any similar articles, gave assurance of an extensive demand when they should become known. The firm, therefore, wished to employ agents to make known
1 Since this sketch was written, the eldest of these brothers, Ex- Governor Erastus Fairbanks, has deceased. Governor Fairbanks was extensively known throughout the country as a gentleman of marked ability and enterprise, and of commanding influence in Church and State, in both of which he held important places of trust. His death will be widely and deeply felt, and few men in the State can fill the large sphere of influence which he long occupied. Like his youngest brother, he fell asleep with the assurance of awaking with his Saviour.
the merits of their scales in different parts of the country, and to sell them. They accordingly invited their brother Joseph to engage in this business. Such offers were made to him that he was induced to close his business at Troy, after he had been there one year. He thus playfully writes to his friend A., respecting his intended change : " You will be surprised to learn that I think of leaving here very shortly. The reason of my leaving is because my brothers have made me proposals so tempting that I cannot resist them, — which are the privilege of riding about the country and peddling out Hay Scales. I don't suppose that Cicero would rank either this or my present business among the ' honorable employments ; ' but a Yankee would pass a different judgment, and call any employment honorable which will produce what we are too much in the habit of considering the ' staff of life.' ' :
The opening of the book is shown; the full text loads in the reader.
Loading the full text…
The end
You’ve reached the end of A memorial of Joseph P. Fairbanks.
