Incidents in a busy life. An autobiography

Front matter

S ina bUSY LIFE

N AUTOBIOGRAPHY

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Contents

I. My Parentage = . . n

II. My Early Years 15

III. Our Neighborhood and Homestead 38

Introduction

Mr. Bullard has kindly asked me to write a few words which may accompany the book which he now sends into the world. An introduction seems superfluous. Very few men are better known in the churches and homes of New England than the revered author of these personal sketches. Far beyond the bounds of the states in which his life has, for the most part, been spent, and beyond the shores of our country, his name and face and work are familiar. He has had the great advantage of coming to us in our childhood when the mind readily gains impressions which do not pass away. Into my own boyhood, as I recall it, comes the recollection of the tall man with his white hair and sunny face, his genial voice and winning manner, with the wise lessons which he taught and illustrated in a way which was all his own. He had the faculty of saying things so that they stayed where he placed them, and not only preserved the memory of the man, but made his words a living force in the young life. Now, in the fullness of years, he still walks among the churches, and children are listening to a man whom their grandfathers and grandmothers knew and admired.

Mr. Bullard has already written a valuable book upon Sabbath-schools, their history and methods ; a book rich in information and suggestion. It seems fitting that he should add to that another work which should give more of the man himself. Many will be glad to know of his childhood, of the things which happened to him when he was a boy, of the varied incidents which have had their place in a life which has been long and industrious and successful. All this can be found in the modest pages of this book. The man thinks aloud, and changes his recollections into words. The story is told in his own manner. Every one who knows the tones of his voice will hear them as he reads. Mr. Bullard always knew how to tell a story, and he has well used his gift in his own biography. All this will be manifest to those who turn these leaves.

As I have this humble part in sending the book on its errand of love, I am sure that I express the feeling of a great company of men and women in thanking the author for all he has done for generations of boys and girls and in asking for him many years of the same service.

ALEXANDER McKENZIE.

Cambridge, June, 1887.

Preface

The fact that the special work of my life has been in behalf of the young, and has been continued through a kind providence an exceptional length of time, rather than any thing of marked interest in my personal history, it is thought may justify the publication of this narrative. The incidents here given, it is also believed, will illustrate a somewhat busy life.

When my work commenced there were few persons who were laboring especially for the young. There were certainly but few who were honored with the title of " the Children's Minister." Then there were but few children's periodicals like The Sabbath-School Visitor and The Well- Spring. The latter was published every week, and came, as some children used to say, "Just as often as father's paper does." For years The Well-Spring had a circulation of over sixty thousand copies a week. From two to three hundred copies were taken in several of the larger cities of California and other western states.

Of course all this interest in behalf of the young, then so new, made a great impression on the minds of the children and youth of those times. Those children and youth are the men and women of the present day ; and the impressions of their early life are now constantly seen, and oftentimes in a manner to me very touching. I am frequently met at public meetings, and in my visits to the churches on the Sabbath, by many a one, even of gray hairs, who, with a beaming countenance and

in animated tones, says : " When I was quite little I heard you at " :

or, " I always took The Well-Spri7igy So that my presence, and even my name, is associated with the early life of many, and recalls scenes of their childhood.

The following extract from an article published in a Providence paper will illustrate this : —

In looking over the Sunday notices, I read that Rev. Asa Bullard would address one of the Sunday-schools in our city on the following day, and I resolved at once to see and hear him. For the moment I gave myself up to the recollections which

IO PREFACE.

for long years have clustered in my mind around his name. Sweet, tender memories, with hallowed influences, brought smiles and tears alternately. More than forty years ago, Mr. Bullard went to a little country town in Massachusetts to spend the Sabbath, and was entertained at my father's house. The little girl of the family, who had just passed her third birthday, sat upon his knee and listened with the others to his magnetic words. ... I have never seen him since, but so clear and distinct was memory's picture, that I half-fancied I should know him on the morrow ; and unlike most of my childhood's heroes, and despite the forty years, I recognized him instantly.

Now may not the following simple narrative of my own early days, and especially of the work of my life for the young, also recall, to all who may read it, memories of their childhood and youth ?

In 1876 I published "Fifty Years with the Sabbath-schools," a volume of 336 pages. This was not intended, as is stated in the preface of that book, to be an autobiography, only so far as related to my connection with Sabbath-schools. "All that it attempts," it was there said, "is to give some brief sketches of the earlier schools ; the modes of conducting them ; some of the changes that have taken place, and to present such incidents and illustrations as have fallen under my observation in regard to the various departments and agencies of the Sabbath-school work, as will be likely to aid and quicken all who are in any way interested in the right training of the young, or in promoting the more earnest study of the Word of God." That volume and this, therefore, do not, to any great extent, cover the same ground.

My most earnest hope is that some of the little incidents, even of my earlier days, here given may afford, especially to the young of the present time, lessons of both interest and profit. These incidents will show them that I was once a boy, just like other boys, only, perhaps, in some things a little more so. And then, when I have passed away, may it not through this little volume be said of the author as it is of Abel, " Being dead he yet speaketh "?

Under these circumstances may I not hope that my numerous Sabbath-school friends, and also a considerate public, will judge kindly as to the propriety of publishing this humble volume?

ASA BULLARD.

" SUNNYBANK," CAMBRIDGE.

INCIDENTS IN A BUSY LIFE.

Chapter I. My Parentage

THE following account of my parents is gathered mostly from a genealogical sketch of the Bullard family, written some years ago for the " History of the Town of Sutton," by my nephew, William Sumner Barton, Esq., of Worcester.

My father, Dr. Artemas Bullard, was born in Holliston, Mass., December 8, 1768. He was the only one of his father's children who received a professional education. In August, 1794, with a small stock of medicines costing twelve pounds, and under a debt of like amount, he commenced the practice of his profession in Northbridge, Worcester County, Mass.

While he was studying his profession at Oxford he became acquainted with his first wife, Maria Waters, daughter of Ebenezer Waters, Esq., of Sutton. They were married in Sutton, February 17, 1796. His wife died without issue about two years after their marriage.

December 6, 1798, he married for his second wife Lucy White, daughter of Deacon Jesse White, of Northbridge, by whom he had ten children, three daughters and seven sons.

Although during his residence of several years in

Northbridge he had established an extensive practice, he was induced by the father of his first wife, Ebenezer Waters, Esq., to purchase his large and beautiful farm in West Sutton. In 1805, accordingly, he removed to Sutton, and thereafter his attention was divided between his profession and his farm. He was about this time appointed, by Governor Strong, surgeon of the then local infantry regiment ; and in 18 14 he was elected a fellow of the council of the Massachusetts Medical Society. He might have gained an eminent position in his profession had he given exclusive attention to it.

As to person, my father has been described as " somewhat above the ordinary stature ; of light, florid complexion, light-blue eyes, nose strictly aquiline, and, in short, as his contemporaries have said, a fine-looking man. He possessed ardent feelings and great energy of character united with a sound judgment. His integrity was proverbial, always doing exact justice to others, and expecting the same from them."

My father's death was occasioned by an accidental fall in his barn, and was probably instantaneous. It occurred May 6, 1842, at the age of 73.

My mother was born in Northbridge, May 5, 1778. She was a direct descendant, on her mother's side, of the sixth generation from her noted ancestor, " Sampson Mason, the Baptist and dragoon of Oliver Cromwell's army." Her great-grandfather, Hezekiah Mason, died in. Thompson, Conn., at the advanced age of 103 years.

My mother died at the house of her eldest daughter, Mrs. Judge Barton, in Worcester, December 15, 1869, aged ninety-one years, seven months and ten days. Her son-in-law, the late Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, at her funeral thus spoke of her : —

MY PARENTAGE

To this joyful coronation our beloved mother has come. All the days of her appointed years — years full of labor and duty — are accomplished ; all her doubts are dispelled, all her anticipations realized ; all she hoped for in her long and noble life, and far more than human hope can ever aspire to, is now her portion. We come to shed no bitter tears ; we celebrate a triumph, not a defeat; a life perfected.

Her children are gathered here with her more immediate friends and neighbors, to pay the last honors to her lifeless form. How sturdily, how nobly she lived ! Feeble, tender, but how enduring ! Never strong, no one would have marked her for a long life. Well do I remember her as first I saw her. I was then a lad in college. Even then I was struck by the energy of her character. I remember my impression then that she was weak in body, and liable to meet an early death. Who would have thought that she would survive that stalwart man, Dr. Bullard, of Sutton, so full of the capital for a long and sturdy life? In body, as in mind, she was evenly organized. Hers was the strength of tenderness and gentleness, but underlaid by a quiet persistence of wonderful force. She was firm and steadfast for the right, wherever principle was involved ; mild and loving, but with fixed habits of belief and thought, which kept her firm and true, even to sternness when occasion required. God taught her ! With her vigor of character it would have been easy for her to make shipwreck of happiness, linked as she was with that strong nature, her husband. It would have been easy for her to purchase peace by self-abnegation, by sinking herself, but she did neither. She made herself a power in her home, but she ruled by submission and love. She made her home a happy one ; and a greater compliment can be paid to no woman. She elevated the name of wife and mother, by showing in herself what it was possible for woman to be.

Early was I struck with her devoutness, by the depth, the richness, and the reality of her religious emotions. The church was always her care. She remembered the pastor and his household, the school and the Sabbath-school. To the latter she was deeply attached, and often in the still hours of the night, when all the household were asleep, upon her knees frequently, and always reverently, did she study the portion of God's Word which was to be the lesson on the morrow.

Well do I remember, in a great revival in Sutton, when the last of her class of thirteen rose to ask for prayers. All had been prayed into the kingdom, and by her. We had a gospel in our home. Her presence was a long benediction. If each one of her children, those gone before and those now living, could gather with us to-day and speak of her life, each would bear me witness that however much we may owe to the school, to the church, to the seminary, to ordaining elders, to the counselors of our riper years, yet the secret, the root, the fullness of each life was in the teaching, the counsel, the example of this mother.

As age withdrew her from active duties of life, her piety became brighter and her conversation more heavenly. God calls some away in the midst of their usefulness ; some he calls in what men say is "just the right time ; " and sometimes he keeps people here just as we keep pictures in our dwellings, to look at and admire, for whole neighborhoods to look at and see what it is possible for life to become.

That is the best man who carries his boyhood farthest into life with him. And that is the best woman who can take her girlhood farthest into middle life and old age. This our mother did. Herself a venerable matron, she stood as a child among her grandchildren ; she stood as a loving child in her Father's home ^ all whom she saw, or felt, or received, were God's gifts. She lived in the liberty of love — a child, in the great house of her Father.

Chapter II. My Early Years

I WAS born in Northbridge, Worcester County, Massachusetts, March 26, 1804. I was the third of my parents' ten children. When I was one year old, the family — my parents with their three children — moved to Sutton, the town adjoining Northbridge on the west. This was afterwards our home till, one after another, we left the paternal roof.

My parents, when they first established the family, erected the family altar, which was faithfully sustained to the end. The influence of that daily reading of the Scripture and prayer, generally both morning and evening, and the asking of a blessing and the returning of thanks at every meal, was most indelible. All these services of prayer and grace at the table were performed with all the family standing. To be sure, when we were very young they were sometimes, especially in the evening, rather wearisome to us little ones, and I well remember how I used to wonder to whom my father was talking, as he stood up there before the tall clock in the corner, with his hands on the back of the chair and his face turned away from all of us.

Then, in the morning, my father would read, sometimes, a whole chapter in Scott's Family Bible, with the Notes and Practical Observations. This, while we were quite young, was not a little tiresome. Scott's Commentary was then issued in large folio numbers. I can well remember how each of those large magazines looked, as one number after another, once a month or once a quarter, came to our home, and with what eagerness we all used to look over each new number. I now have them all bound in six large volumes of from six hundred and fifty to nine hundred pages. And I reverence them highly as associated with my early home, my now sainted parents, and the sacred family altar.

We were all trained, from very early life, to attend church. As we resided over three miles from the center of the town where was our place of public worship, father obtained a famous two-horse coach or carriage " for going to meeting." It had two wide seats and was open in front. And every Sabbath, rain or shine, summer and winter, this carriage, with father and two children on the front seat and mother and two on the back seat, and one or two packed away somewhere inside, would be seen on the way " to meeting."

And how well I can recall many of the scenes in the church, which would be very strange to young and old of the present day. The square pews with the plain board seats on hinges, which were raised when we " stood up " in time of prayer, and at the close were let down with such a startling crash and rattle all over the house. Then the ice-cold house in the winter, with no fire except the foot-stoves of the women. There were always two services, with an intermission of about an hour.

One of the older children, by turns, boys and girls, remained at home to take care of the little ones and have dinner ready when the rest returned. And we all learned to get a repast that the hungry ones were sure to relish.

Among the things connected with "going to meeting" in those early days that made a great impression on my

MY EARLY YEARS. I J

young mind were those of the old stone horse-block, standing near the meeting-house. There was such an appendage to most of the country meeting-houses at that time. Many of the people came to meeting on horseback, the husband and his wife, or a brother and sister mounted on the same horse. And the horse-block was for the special convenience of the women in mounting and dismounting.

The old stone horse-block to which I am now referring consisted of a flat stone, six or eight feet long and perhaps three wide, elevated several feet by smaller stones,, and ascended by three or four stone steps.

On and around this horse-block most of the men and boys, professors and non-professors, and even the deacons, in the warm season and on pleasant Sabbaths, passed their morning between the services. The time was spent in free and lively conversation. All the men took part in the talk without distinction of rank or learning, and none seemed to feel the slightest embarrassment. Men who never could speak in the prayer-meeting found no difficulty here. Till I was twelve or thirteen years old, as there was no Sabbath-school, I attended, what I have since called, this " horse-block class for conversation," and the scenes there witnessed are more vivid in my memory than are any of those I have since witnessed in the Sabbath-school. I do not remember that the sermon or the subject of religion in any manner was ever made the topic of conversation. The news of the day, the cattle and farms, the state and prospects of the crops, the weather, the prices of various articles of produce, the character of neighbors, politics, the approaching election, etc. ; — these were the themes upon which the older members of the " class," church members and the unconverted, usually conversed. Never can I forget the surprise and wonder those scenes produced on my youthful mind. Such conversation on the Sabbath day ! How could any good impressions follow the services of the house of God ?

Towards night, or in the early evening of the Sabbath, we children all recited the catechism and passages of Scripture or hymns.

Now, wearisome as sometimes these Sabbath services were, I would not for the life of me lose the associations of " going to meeting " on that holy day.

Among the many little incidents of my early life which may be of more or less interest, especially to any young friends who may read these pages, may be mentioned the following : —

The Blacksmith Shop.

My father had a blacksmith shop ; and sometimes when not called away on professional duties, he would do little jobs in this shop in the evening. One evening, when I was a very little boy, I asked him to let me go with him and see him make nails.

He said I would get sleepy and cry to come back. I thought I should n't ; and so was permitted to go with him. He fixed me a nice seat on the forge, where I could see him blow the bellows, heat the nail-rod red hot, and then hammer out the nails. It was real fun to watch him for some time.

By-and-by I began to grow tired and sleepy ; and then I wished I was back at the house and in bed ; but I did not dare to say any thing about it. At length father looked up, and seeing that I was very sleepy and ready to cry, he asked : —

MY EARLY YEARS.

" What is the matter, Asa ? "

I said : —

" I wish I was never made ! "

Father drew the hot nail-rod out of the fire and raised it as though he was going to strike me, when I exclaimed : " I don't want to be killed, now I am made ! " Then, with a hearty laugh, he took me home to mother.

The Big Cupboard.

Between the kitchen and the dining, or sitting, room, there was a short passage-way. On the right hand, five or six feet high, there were two cupboards, a small and a large one, with doors. The small one was about a foot wide, with two or three shelves,, where small tools and all sorts of things were kept. The large one extended quite a distance back of the chimney. The door was about two feet square, with a small, heart-shaped hole near the top. Into this great space were thrown all sorts of larger things, boot-jacks, hammers, boxes, etc. It was a catchall for every thing that any one wished to put out of the way.

One day the roguish little Asa had done some mischief, when his father took him up and put him into the big cupboard and shut the door.

A loud outcry was expected, but there was not a lisp. The parents and the other children waited and waited for some evidence that the little prisoner would understand that he was in solitary confinement as a punishment. But there was no complaint heard.

By-and-by the father opened the prison-door, and there the little rogue was, having the nicest time with all the " playthings " he found around him ! But when the light was cut off from the hole at the top of the door, the little prisoner began to beg to be pardoned out.

The Catcher Caught.

The warm sun of early spring had begun to disrobe the earth of her winter mantle. Here and there around our home, in the yard and the fields, the snow had disappeared, and the fresh grass was just starting to view. The time of the singing of birds, too, had come, and many a red-breast, on every sunny spot, was seeking his food and filling the air with his merry chirpings and sweet spring carolings.

These welcome harbingers of coming verdure and flowers attracted my attention. I watched them ; but instead of making myself happy with their lovely exhibition of happiness, I began to devise plans for catching them. With my little bow and arrow, and my sling and stones, I pursued them from spot to spot, and from field to field ; and many a poor, timid red-breast did I terribly frighten. By-and-by my roguish ingenuity hit upon a plan by which I was sure I could catch them. My plan was, to set a small fish-hook, expecting that the unwary bird would pick up the bait, and in a moment be safe in my hands.

This cruel device no sooner entered my mind, than I hastened to try it. I obtained a small fish-hook, and began to fasten to it a little string. In order to secure it tightly I used my teeth. In this dangerous operation the string slipped, and in an instant the sharp, barbed hook, which I was preparing for the mouth of poor robin, was fast caught in my own. It entered into the soft and tender flesh inside of my under lip. The catcher was now caught, sure enough — caught, too, in his own snare, which he was setting for another ! What was I to do ? I could not remove the cruel hook. The barb, intended on purpose to fasten it tightly in the mouth of the innocent fish or bird that should swallow it, was firmly fastened in my lip.

With great pain and fear, both increased by the consciousness that I was receiving only a just desert for my intended cruelty, I hastened to my mother. She tried to remove it, but in vain. I then went to my father, with whose sharp surgical instruments I was painfully familiar. Those frightful instruments — the very sight of which made me turn pale and tremble anew with fear — father now took out and laid upon the table. After much suffering, the hook was at length removed, leaving in my lip a deep wound ; but a deeper impression was left upon my mind.

Years have passed away since that wound was healed ; but the impression on my mind remains like the deep lines of the sculptor's chisel upon the marble. I then regarded this occurrence, and I still regard it, as a deserved punishment for my intended cruelty. I learned, by my own sad experience, that what was to be sport to me would have been, had I succeeded in my cruel purpose, pain and suffering to those innocent and beautiful songsters of spring.

I trust this story of my early days may be a warning to all my young friends against indulgence in cruelty towards any of God's creatures.

My Spreading-stick. %

About the time of the above event, when four or five years old, in hay-time, I begged my father to make me a spreading-stick. After frequent importunities my request was granted. The spreading-stick was made of a small sapling, three or four feet long, which had two branches at the top. These were cut off five or six inches from the stick, making two tines, like those of a fork.

With my coveted spreading-stick I went proudly into the fields, and followed the men who were cutting down the tall grass into swathes, and spread the new-mown hay in every direction, as I had seen others do. And didn't I feel smart as I made the hay fly ! I was doing a man's work.

Well, many a boy knows that what is at first a play may become work. It was not long before I began to find it so with my spreading-stick. When it was found that I could spread hay, and be made useful, and save some of the time the men had to give in doing this work, I had to spread the hay. It was no longer play ; it was work. And many a time, when my little arms and legs became tired in this labor, I wished I had never asked for the spreading-stick. And yet, this early learning to work and be useful has been a great benefit to me in my after life.

There was one very curious event in connection with my spreading-stick. My Grandfather Waters, of Boston, used occasionally to visit his old home in Sutton. In hay-time, almost every year, he would come; and he seemed to find pleasure in assisting in the hay-field.

One day when father was absent, grandfather went into the field with the men to rake up the hay. This was soon after I had my spreading-stick, and I was on hand spreading the swaths, By-and-by I went to the windrow grandpa was raking up, and began to spread the hay out again. Grandpa saw me and said I must not do it. But my memory was very short, and soon I was spreading out the hay after grandpa. He then told me if I did it again he should have to shake me. It was not long before —

MY EARLY YEARS.

boy fashion — I was repeating the mischief. Grandpa saw me and started towards me, when the wicked little rogue threw his spreading-stick at him and then ran. But grandpa soon overtook me and gave me a shaking — not a hard one, but enough to cause me to go crying to the house.

The good old man was troubled lest I should go with a complaint to my mother, and she might think he had assumed improper authority over her child. But that child, young as he was, knew better than to go to his mother with any such complaint. He kept his grief to himself.

At dinner grandfather told mother about the affair, which I had not ventured to mention. Then to show her that he was not severe, he arose from the table and took me from my chair and shook me again ! That second shaking I did not soon forget. It hurt my feelings more than it did my body.