Sunday, July 21, 2013

Response to the Death of Oliver Hatch



Oliver Hatch, my fourth great-grandfather through the line of my grandfather, Ed Sprott, was a London merchant with a thriving business. His sudden death in 1828, when he was middle aged, inspired a sermon at St. Andrew Holborn, his London parish church. Here I have included excerpts from the sermon (which was later printed as a type of religious tract). The entire sermon is presented in a separate post.




Luke xii. 35, 36. 

Let your loins be girded about and your lights burning; and
ye yourselves like unto men that wait for their Lord, when
he will return from the wedding; that when he cometh and
knocketh they may open unto him immediately.


The repeated warnings given by our Lord of the
uncertainty of life, and the consequent necessity
of habitual readiness for death, are so important
in themselves and so interesting to the best feel-
ings of our nature, that, how lightly soever we may
be disposed to regard them while “careful and
troubled about many things,” they cannot be for
ever excluded from our thoughts.

The very circumstances in which our life is
passed, the daily occurrences to which we are ex-
posed, and the unexpected calamities we are com-
pelled to witness, all conspire to remind us of the
uncertain tenure of our present existence, and to
re-echo in our ears the imposing and solemn ad-
monition of the Prophet “prepare to meet thy
God.”

When we see a man in the summer
of his years, flourishing in all the external signs of
health and vigour, fallen as in a moment, by the
stroke of death, who among ourselves shall pre-
sume to hope that his continuance here is more
secure? — Which of us can think it safe to put off
for a more “convenient season” those indispensable
duties on which eternal happiness depends, and
which, if neglected now, many never be accom-
plished?

Surely, my Christian Brethren, if ever there
were a season peculiarly fitted for pressing this
consideration upon your notice, it is the present.
When you reflect that one from among yourselves,
who, when I last addressed you, occupied his usual
place in this assembly, mingling his prayers with
yours, — has since been summoned to the assembly
of the “just, made perfect,” that ere another sab-
bath dawned upon the earth his soul had entered
into an eternal Sabbath, you cannot be surprised,
if with the earnestness of one whose duty it is to
“watch for souls,” I seize the opportunity, of ex-
horting you, “as you love your own salvation,'” to
take heed “lest that hour overtake you unawares;”
that you will, after the example of that worthy
man, “let your loins be girded about, and your
lights burning; and ye yourselves like unto men
that wait for their Lord, when he will return from
the wedding; that when he cometh and knocketh,
they may open unto him immediately.”

“A double-minded man,” saith St James, “is
unstable in all his ways.”

Such was not the character of him whose ex-
ample we have now to consider. His mind had
its “loins girt about,” in the strictest sense, with
all necessary and saving “truth.” His religious
sentiments were carefully collected, and securely
fixed in the sound principles of our venerable
Church. Convinced that she was the authorised
and faithful interpreter of the Sacred Oracles, he
received her doctrines, not, indeed, with the blind
attachment of a bigot, but with the unaffected re-
verence, rational humility, and heart-felt gratitude
of one who delighted to know “the truth as it is
in Jesus.” Feeling, therefore, that any deviation
from her doctrines and discipline must be as dan-
gerous as it was needless, he shunned, with a pious
dread, every attempt at religious innovation, per-
fectly content to “worship the God of” his “fathers”
in the same pure and orthodox faith in which the
“glorious company of the apostles, the goodly
fellowship of the prophets,” and “the noble army
of martyrs,” had lived and died.

A man thus alive to the paramount claims of
religion, and thus attached to the sacred forms
which it assumed in the earliest and purest ages
of the Church, was not likely to waste much time
in canvassing new opinions, and to risque the sal-
vation of his soul in a masse of futile speculations.
It was enough for him to know that the Church,
of which he was so sound a member, was in all
its essential properties, a constituent part of the
"Catholic and Apostolic Church;” and that every
individual in it, whose faith was evidenced by a
holy, just, and charitable life, would, by the grace,
of God in Christ Jesus, undoubtedly be saved.
“Why, then,” he would often argue, “why should
we let our minds wander over the wide ocean of
controversy, in doubt and uncertainty, while the
truth is to be found ‘in the ark of Christ's Church?’”

Such singleness of heart, such firmness of re-
solution, and steadfastness of purpose, as our la-
mented friend uniformly exhibited, might proba-
bly make him appear, in the eyes of worldly wis-
dom, too rigid and uncompromising for the present
state of society; but those who knew him best had
the best reasons for believing, that, in maintaining
through “evil report and good,” those principles
which he deemed the soundest, he was as free as any
man from the bitterness of party-spirit, and was
actuated only by the deepest convictions of a well-
regulated understanding. In him they could, with
heartfelt satisfaction, recognise “an Israelite in-
deed, in whom" was " no guile ;" who, having em-
braced the truth, was too honest to use any am-
biguous or equivocal expressions in declaring his
sentiments, and too candid to have recourse to
bye-ways or plausible artifices in discharging his
duty. This open and manly conduct, while it
secured the confidence of friends, afforded no just
ground for the resentment of enemies. Indeed,
among those who most materially differed from
him in principle, there were few, I believe, who
did not regard him as a generous and upright
Christian, whose character was entitled to the re-
spect of every one.

The light of the true Christian is not
confined to the sanctuary. He carries it with him
“whithersoever he goeth” and even though en-
gaged in a daily round of worldly occupations,
can make those very occupations the means of
glorifying his “Father which is in heaven.”
Of this we have a most convincing instance, in
the case of our lamented friend.

If any one might plead excuse for neglecting
the momentous concerns of religion, or limiting
his attention to it, within the narrow bounds of
the Sabbath and the sanctuary, it would be one
whose extensive mercantile connections seemed
to demand his incessant care. But he had early
learned to ponder the important question of his
Redeemer, “what shall it profit a man if he shall
gain the whole world and lose his own soul?”
And estimating rightly the incomparable difference
between the gain and the loss, he gladly conse-
crated his secular employments to the service of
his heavenly Master, and though never “slothful
in business,” was always “fervent in spirit serving
the Lord.” While he relied with humble confi-
dence on the merits of Jesus Christ for acceptance
with God, and confessed that when he had done
all he could he was “an unprofitable servant,”
yet that reliance did not relax but rather stimu-
lated his exertions to abound in “all the fruits of
righteousness which are by Jesus Christ, to the
glory and praise of God.” “Pure religion and
undefiled” shone so manifestly in the daily trans-
actions of his life, that without making it the sub-
ject of formal professions, or needlessly introduc-
ing it into common conversation, it was suffi-
ciently evident to all who had the happiness of
familiarity with him, that he “used this world as
not abusing it,” and valued it only so far as it
afforded him the means of attaining to a better.

While many, with much inferior means, are
constantly aiming at a show of greatness which
they do not possess, and with a culpable emula-
tion of their superiors, straining every nerve to
keep up a fictitious splendour, insomuch that they
have nothing left wherewith to “lay up treasures
in heaven;” this good Christian, actuated by that
charity which “vaunteth not itself, is not puffed
up,” was content to “renounce (according to his
baptismal covenant) the vain pomp and glory of
the world,” that he might “have to give to him
that needeth.” His many acts of charity were in
the purest sense disinterested. Situated as he was,
it is impossible to conceive him to have been in-
fluenced by the hope of any other benefit or re-
ward than what he has been called to receive.
How many hundreds—aye thousands, of poor chil-
dren in this metropolis--)and some hundreds of
them are now before us,) owe it to his exertions,
under, divine Providence, that they have been
taught the way of salvatiom, and “brought nigh
unto God*!” How many “poor, and blind, and
maimed,” and destitute, of his fellow-creatures
have obtained by his means, relief and comfort!
These were the objects of his unceasing attention.
And though ever ready to :use hospitality with-
out gruding,'” to his “friends and rich neigh-
bours,” who could make him “a recompence,”—
he never forgot that these poor members of Christ’s
body were recommended to him by the head of
the Church, for this special reason, “they cannot
recompense thee, but thou shalt be recompensed
at the resurrection of the just.”

* The indefatigable and extensive exertions of Mr. Hatch,
as Treasurer to the City National Schools, are too well known
to need any detailed account of them here. That a layman
in his situation should devote himself, as he did, to the pro-
moting of Religious Education among the children, of the
poor, is perhaps no more than might have been expected from
one who felt as he did the value of religious knowledge.
Neither is it surprising that, attached as he was to our vener-
able Establishment, he should prefer that system of education
which unites them to the faith and worship of the Church of
England. But it may be interesting to those who do not feel
quite so strongly upon these points as our departed friend did,
to know that in addition to his religious motives, which were
ever predominant, he was influenced in the support of these
Schools by the fullest conviction that if ever the education of
the poor is to be made a national benefit, it must be under the
conduct and superintendence of the National Clergy.

The same faith which made
him instruct the ignorant, clothe the naked, and
succor the destitute, made him “worship God
in spirit and in truth,” not only by attending the
outward forms, of religion, and “walking in all
the commandments and ordinances of the Lord
blameless” himself, but by carrying religion into
the bosom of his family, and like the Father of
the faithful, commanding “his children and his
household after him, to keep the way of the Lord,
to do justice and judgment.”
He was not content with allowing his domes-
tics, if they wished, to be religious, but consi-
dered himself bound in duty both to them and to
his Saviour, to exert the influence and authority
with which Providence had invested him, to make
them so.

Every opportunity therefore which was afforded
him, he gladly devoted to the moral and religious
improvement of himself and his family, resolving
with the pious Psalmist to “walk in” his “house
with a perfect heart,” discountenancing every kind
of deceit and wickedness, and suffering none but
such as would “lead a godly life” to be his “ser-
vant*.”

Thus throughout his short but useful career,
godliness and charity might be observed mutually
succeeding and aiding each other, with so much
constancy and perseverance, that where the duties
of the one ceased, there the exercise of the other,
began.

Sudden, therefore, and untimely as his depart-
ture is to us, to him it could never prove surprise
ing. His “light” was always “burning:” he
was in that blessed state of readiness that when
his Master came and knocked, he could “open
to him immediately.” And it is a fact which
must ever afford consolation to those who love his
memory, that the herald of his Judge found him
not “overcharged with surfeiting and drunken-
ness, and cares of this world,” but labouring in
the cause of charity+. Suitable to such a life were
the manner and circumstances of his death. It
pleased the Lord to carry away his servant, as in
a moment, from the discharge of that work in
which he delighted, to the enjoyment of its re-
ward. He escaped, by divine mercy, from the
pains of a protracted illness. The garment of
mortality easily dropt off, and the soul fled to his
eternal rest.

+After having attended divine service on Ash-Wednesday,
Mr. Hatch presided at the Committee of the City National
Schools, from whence he went home, under an apparently
slight indisposition: the following Saturday terminated his life.

“Mark the perfect man, and behold the up-
right, for the latter end of that man is peace.”
“Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord,—
they rest from their labours, and their works do
follow them.” May the memorial of that righteous
man remain for ever with us ! May it stimulate
our piety, enlarge our charity, and awaken us to
an active, steady, unceasing exercise of every
Christian duty; that while we remember how well
he lived, and how suddenly he died, we may learn
to be “ready also,” seeing that “at such an hour
as we think not, the Son of Man cometh.”

Sunday, July 7, 2013

Mary C. Sprott's Memories of Mountain Home, Part I


These memories were shared by Mary C. Sprott, my great-great-grandmother. She was born in Scotland in 1860, emigrated to America in 1876, and came to Porterville, California in 1893. Mary passed away in Porterville in 1951. She first went to Mountain Home in 1895.




Many years ago I went to spend the hot summer months at Mountain Home, a camp at an elevation of some 6000 feet in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. In those days this camp was very popular and six or seven hundred people would occupy its cabins and camp sites. Do not imagine that it resembled the summer resorts and camps popular now-a-days. Far from it, Mountain Home was crude and primitive in its improvements and the surroundings as nature made them. It was not an especially beautiful spot so far as scenery was concerned, but it possessed a certain quality of natural majesty and charm, derived I think from the magnificent trees of its virgin forest. At that time we reached it by team and wagon. Several sawmills were operating not far from the camp and a badly graded road was built for hauling lumber from these mills. We used to pass the night about twenty miles from our little home town and drive up the grade next morning. Our spring wagon would be heaped with bedding, suitcases and various small articles for our camp. The larger and heavier baggage being hauled on the empty wagons returning to the mills. The grade was narrow, winding and very steep. The teamsters all had bells on their teams to warn people of their coming, that they might take refuge in some of the nooks in the mountainside provided for this purpose. The mountain on the left rose very steeply, almost a precipice and on the right side dropped a precipitous thousand feet. If one were not too nervous one could look down and see far below the path of little ribbons - Bear Creek, and a small flat called the Dump, to which lumber from one of the mills was flumed, to be hauled by team to the Railroad.


Mountain Home about 1898

I confess I always turned the corner of the grade with a slight anxiety, expecting to see a ten or twelve horse team with large lumber wagon and trailer bearing down on us. Many of the teamsters rode on the rear wheel horse, a “jerk line” guiding their team and in one hand a rope controlling the all important brake. Other teamsters preferred to ride high up on a dizzy looking perch, one foot on the iron brake, lolling negligently on their uneasy seat, but guiding their great teams with skill. Occasionally an accident occurred, of course, but considering the amount of hauling and danger of the road these accidents were very few. I personally came in contact with two. The first time I went to Mountain Home, as we made camp for the night at the foot of the grade, a man came leading mules to water at the creek. He informed us there had been an accident, the brakes on one of the teamsters' wagons had broken and the load had run onto the horses; or rather mules, killing the wheelers. Fortunately the teamster was not riding and saved himself by jumping from the top of the load.




Another time I had ridden with a friend from camp some miles down the grade, and as we returned we saw on a little flat two big teams standing, and a man we knew was running back to the turn in the road with an axe in his hand. He called to us that six mules had gone over the grade and that we could not pass. The mountain not being very steep there we rode up and over, and when we got to the further side, rode down the road to see what we could see. A trailer blocked the road and the great wagon had lodged in a tree near the brink, the mules were several hundred feet below grazing calmly. The teamsters told us the edge of the road had given way and the team had hung on one side of the big tree and the wagon on the other. They had cut the harness and the mules rolled to the foot of the slope, fortunately not very steep there. Apparently they were none the worse for it.



At a point some six or seven miles above the camp on Bear Creek the character of the country changed and the grade, though, still steep in places, had a less perilous aspect. A small fruit ranch marked the spot where the Change occurred, from it one obtained a marvelous view, extending over the lower foothills to the wide valley beyond. The hills to this point had been covered with chamise and deer brush broom and yerba santa, very few trees. From there the forest began and we travelled over a shady road with giant oaks, pines and cedars on all sides. As we neared Mountain House great firs and redwoods (Sequoia Gigantea) appeared. We had with us my riding pony and had taken turns riding and as we reached camp I happened to be on horseback.


The Mountain Home area today (Balch Park)

On coming to California I had decided that I should ride cross-saddle and had purchased a very confortable small saddle, made at a local saddler's and had made for me a pair of bloomers - quite voluminous - of tan wool covert cloth; my legs modestly concealed by canvas leggings. However my appearance attracted some attention and I found later caused the hotelkeeper's daughter, a girl who became my warm friend, to gain courage to appear in her own. Her father had objected to her wearing them ~ thinking they might seem too rapid, but observing my highly respectable, not to say slow appearance, concluded she might safely try her cross saddle, and soon he became an ardent convert, as he found how much fewer sorebacks his horses had and how much less cinching was required of him. I liked it because one was so much more independent in mounting, but I think it was a long time till I felt myself as secure as in my side saddle with its two horns on the left to grip with my knees. Cross saddle riding depends on balance and I nearly fell off several times in turning quickly until I learned the art.


Mary Sprott dressed to ride


To be continued . . .