MR. MARSH's SERMON AT THE FUNERAL OF THE FAMILY OF WILLIAM BEADLE.
The great Sin and Danger of striving with GOD. A SERMON PREACHED AT WETHERSFIELD, DECEMBER 13th, 1782. AT THE FUNERAL OF Mrs. LYDIA BEADLE, WIFE OF THE LATE WILLIAM BEADLE, And their Four CHILDREN, Who were all murdered by his own Hands on the Morning of the 11th Instant.
BY JOHN MARSH, A. M. PASTOR OF THE FIRST CHURCH IN WETHERSFIELD.
TO WHICH IS ANNEXED A LETTER, from a Gentleman in Wethersfield to his Friend, containing a NARRATIVE of the Life of WILLIAM BEADLE, (so far as it is known) and the Particulars of the Massacre of himself and Family.
HARTFORD: PRINTED BY HUDSON AND GOODWIN.
A FUNERAL SERMON.
SIN brings misery with and after it. Had man maintained his primitive rectitude, trouble, sorrow and death would never have been found among the race of Adam. Ever since the defection of the first human pair from God, there has been a strange propensity in mankind, to dispute his authority and find fault with his administration. Such conduct is highly dishonorable, affronting and provoking to the Deity. He is pleased frequently to animadvert upon it in this world, and sometimes, in a manner very alarming: And will not fail to make all, who persist in opposing him, to feel, sooner or later, the direful effects of his righteous vindictive resentment. Wo, saith he in the text, unto him that striveth with his Maker. In discoursing on which I propose,
[Page 6] FIRST, To shew when men may be said to strive with God.
SECONDLY, To consider the great guilt and danger of striving with him.
THIRDLY, To apply the subject to the present very solemn and awful occasion.
FIRST, I am to shew when men may be said to strive with God.
THIS I shall do in several particulars. And,
FIRST, Men strive with God when they refuse to submit to him as their Law giver.
HAVING made them he has an absolute propriety in them, and an indisputable right to enact such laws for the direction of their conduct as seemeth good to him.
HAPPY it is for us, that this Being, on whom we depend for existence, and who has a sovereign authority over us, is possessed of all perfection; and therefore we may be certain, that it never was, and never will be his pleasure to ordain rules for the observance of any of his creatures, which have not their foundation in infinite goodness directed by consummate wisdom.
ALL the laws the Supreme Being hath promulgated, and to which he requires our submission, both by the voice of reason and revelation, are adapted to our capacities, and plainly calculated to advance and secure our best welfare, as well as his glory. Indeed, should the Deity require our obedient regard to a positive precept, the utility of which we could not comprehend, [Page 7] we should be indispensably obliged to yield a ready submission to it, not doubting of the wisdom and goodness of his design therein. His right to give law to us being founded in his absolute propriety in us, we are bound to obey his precepts from a regard to his authority, exclusive of any consideration of suitableness in the precepts themselves to promote our own felicity. Nevertheless, whenever such suitableness is apparent in any of his laws, it affords an additional argument for our compliance with them.
IN every allowed instance of disobedience we practically deny the authority of God over us, and contend with him for dominion.
No partial regard to his commandments is sufficient to save us from the imputation of striving with him. St. James says, Whoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all. chap. ii. v. 10. Whosoever allowedly and habitually violates any one of the laws of God is guilty of a wicked contempt of his sovereignty, and does not obey him in any instance from a proper affection to him and his government. The language of the practice of every person of such a character is, That he will not have God to rule over him—that he is his own, and will pay no higher regard to the laws of the Deity than is consistent with the gratification of his own irregular and vicious inclinations.
SECONDLY. Men strive with God, when they find fault with the dispensations of his grace.
THE Father of mankind, in his abundant wisdom, goodness and mercy, has contrived a method of recovering them from the ruins of the apostacy to his favour and happiness. At sundry times and in divers [Page 8] manners has he made discoveries of his mind and will relating to this plan of grace. In the fulness of time he sent his only begotten Son into the world to perfect what was wanting in preceeding revelations, and to exhibit to men a clear and full account of all those things respecting their salvation, with which, in this state of probation, infinite wisdom saw fit to make them acquainted.
THE attestations given to the revelation contained in the sacred scriptures of the Old and New Testament are ample, illustrious, and worthy of God. Every serious, unprejudiced enquirer after truth soon feels their force, and is constrained to acknowledge the divinity of the religion taught in the Bible.
THAT any should find fault with a scheme of religion so benevolent—so pure—so honorable to God, and advantageous to men—so admirably supported by external, as well as internal evidence, is an argument of great blindness and obstinacy.
To creatures in our circumstances of guilt and depravity, who stand in absolute need of a dispensation of grace, how welcome ought such a dispensation to be! How worthy of the most grateful acceptation of all men is the Christian revelation!
No man, who rejects this revelation, either upon the supposition that it is needless, or on account of any difficulties with which some of its doctrines are attended, difficulties incomprehensible by our limited understandings; or because of the corruptions of its professors; no man, who opposes or treats it with neglect and contempt, on any account whatever, can exculpate himself from the charge of striving with God.
[Page 9] To suppose supernatural revelation needless, implies, either a denial of a criminal departure in man from the state of rectitude in which he was originally placed by God; or presumption, that the uncovenanted goodness and mercy of God oblige him to pardon and receive into favour the guilty: Both of which are inconsistent with the light of nature.
To reject the Gospel, on account of mysteries with which some of it's doctrines are attended, is highly unreasonable, unless it be reasonable to reject all religion on the same account. The religion of nature is attended with difficulties as incomprehensible by us as any of the mysteries of the Christian religion. Yes, if once it be admitted, that we can have no satisfactory evidence of the truth of any thing we cannot comprehend, we must then commence universal scepticks, and doubt of the truth even of our own existence, the manner of which is wholly unaccountable to us.
As to the corruptions of professed Christians, they are, indeed, a humbling consideration; but these corruptions the Christian religion is not accountable for. It every where discountenances and condemns them; and of all religions, that ever appeared in the world, is the best calculated to discourage vice, profanenss and immorality; and to promote the cause of piety, virtue and righteousness. It gives the most pure and excellent, the clearest and fullest instructions and directions respecting our temper and behaviour towards God, mankind and ourselves, and enforces them with the most weighty, pungent and effectual arguments and motives; arguments and motives superior to any that could have entered the human mind, without a revelation from Heaven. And "notwithstanding the corruptions so complained of in the Christian world, it is [Page 10] undeniable, that what there is of knowledge and true religion among men, is principally where Christianity is professed."
To reject this religion, wherein God hath abounded toward us in all wisdom and goodness, is to fight against him in the most criminal and dangerous manner.
MANY professed Christians virtually find fault with the gospel dispensation.
THE doctrines of Christianity are truly humiliating—well calculated to bring down the pride of apostate men. Sinners, as we are taught in the book of inspiration, are justified freely by God's grace, through the redemption that is in Jesus Christ: whom God hath set forth to be a propitiation, through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins; that he might be just and the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus *. This being God's method of justifying sinners, whosoever does not duly attend to it, but, like a self-sufficient Pharisee, goes about to establish his own righteousness, is guilty of striving with his Maker, and attempting to force his way to heaven without submitting himself to the righteousness of God.
THERE is another sort of men, who virtually find fault with the dispensation of grace by sitting still, and endeavouring nothing of a religious nature, because of themselves they can do nothing spiritually good.
THE great God is sovereign in the bestowment of his favors; and for wise reasons may see fit, in some instances, suddenly to stop sinners in their career of wickedness, and communicate to them, at once and unsought, the special renewing and sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit: But, since this is not his ordinary way [Page 11] of dealing with those whom he is graciously pleased to bring into a saving acquaintance with, and peculiar relation to himself—since he has given no particular sinners any encouragement that he will pour out his spirit upon them, unless they endeavour to turn at his reproof—unless they strive to enter in at the strait gate—unless they labor for the meat which endureth unto everlasting life;—unless they attend to the calls and invitations of the gospel, cherish the good motions he is wont to communicate to all in common, who are favoured with the gospel, and make some proper improvement of the means of grace; I say, since this is the case, every one who fits still, or rather goes on in a course of sin, neglecting and despising the means of grace, faith and repentance, with an expectation of being renewed and made happy by the irresistable grace of God, is justly chargeable with the sin of opposing the glorious method of pardon, grace and salvation, published in the gospel.
OTHERS virtually find fault with the dispensation of the gospel, by depending on such a faith in the blood of Christ, for pardon and life everlasting, as does not work by love, purify the heart and overcome the world. Whilst they profess to own him as a Priest, they practically deny him as a King; and may justly be ranked with those who refuse to yield submission to God as their Law-giver.
THIRDLY, Men strive with God when they are uneasy with his ordering and disposing of their circumstances in a temporal view. As
1. WHEN they are discontented with the original constitution of things with respect to themselves—such as the figure of their bodies, the natural powers of their minds, the quality of their parents and relatives, and the infirmities of human nature.
[Page 12] To complain of such things, is as wicked and preposterous, in any of the human species, as to be uneasy, because they were not created angels and ranked with the highest order of them. Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why host thou made me thus? Shall the clay say to him that fashioneth it, What makest thou? Or thy work, He hath no hands? *
2. THEY strive with him in afflictions with which they are threatened or visited.
1. WHEN they use unlawful methods to prevent, support themselves under, or remove them.
IT is natural to all threatened with calamity, or oppressed with trouble, to enquire how they may avoid it, or obtain support under, or deliverance out of it. But by those who have a proper regard for God an unlawful way of attaining help and deliverance is esteemed as no way.
IT is much better to suffer natural evil, than to do moral evil that good may come.
WHEN there is no regular way of deliverance from affliction, it is evidently the will of God, that we should bear it, patiently, for the present, and quietly wait till he shall please to remove it, or open a door for our escape. In such a case, to refuse to receive correction—to take irregular courses for the purpose of mitigating our sorrows, or to fly out of the world in order to get rid of adversity, is a daring opposition to God, and betrays great want of manly fortitude and bravery.
Curse God and die was the advice of the wife of Job, when he was called to endure a sad succession of the [Page 13] most trying calamities: But his answer was such, as will forever do him honor, as a man, and a subject of the divine providential government. He said unto her, "Thou speakest as one of the foolish women speaketh: What? Shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil? *"
[Page 14] 2. MEN strive with God in afflictions that are brought upon them, when they are sullen under them.
A mournful sense of afflictions is allowable, if not commendable. Such is the constitution of man, and such the desire of happiness implanted in the human breast by our great Creator, that what "opposes this desire, or appears to have that tendency," will be productive of disagreeable sensations, and affect us with grief. Not to be thus affected in a degree somewhat correspondent to the adversity with which we are visited, would argue a deviation from the regular state of nature.
A due sensibility with respect to afflictions renders them a proper means of promoting important moral purposes in the hearts of men.
BUT, there is a wide difference between a mournful sense of misfortunes, and sullenness under them: The former is suitable to the "law of our creation," and may be a powerful means of introducing into the soul that Godly sorrow, which worketh repentance to salvation not to be repented of: Whereas the latter is a sorrow that worketh death.
To suffer grief so far to exceed its real cause as to bear no proportion to it;—to refuse to be comforted; to give place to melancholy so far as to become unfitted for the necessary duties of life,—for the thankful enjoyment of the remaining blessings of goodness,—for entertaining worthy thoughts of God, and just and benevolent sentiments with respect to our fellow-creatures; this is absolutely wrong: It is an implicit denial of the justice, the wisdom, the goodness of Providence.
[Page 15] 3. THEY strive with God in afflictions, when, instead of improving them to good purpose, they grow no better, but wax worse under them.
GOD doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men. Did we not refuse to be drawn with the cords of love, and the bands of a man, he would not take harsh methods with us. By our obstinacy and perverseness we "constrain him, and almost force him against his inclination" to treat us with severity.
"AND yet, when he comes to take this course with us, he still, like a kind and tender hearted father, aims at our benefit and advantage. He designs kindness to the sons of men by all those judgments which do not kill them, and cut them off from the opportunity and possibility of improving them. If he sends evils upon us, it is that thereby he may do us some greater good: If he afflicts us, it is not because it is pleasant to him to deal harshly with us, but because it is profitable and necessary for us to be so dealt with: And if at any time he imbitter our lives by miseries and sufferings, it is because he is loth to see us perish in pleasant ways, and chuseth rather to be somewhat severe towards us, than suffer us to be utterly undone."
AFFLICTIONS have a natural tendency to bring men to consideration, and, in the hand of providence, are a most powerful means of repentance. Elihu represents their good effects upon sinners in such language as this, If, says he, they be bound in fetters, and held in cords of affliction; then God sheweth them their work, and their transgressions that they have exceeded. He openeth also their ear to discipline, and commandeth that they return from iniquity *.
THIS being the design and tendency of afflictions, surely it is meet to be said unto God, by every one who is [Page 16] brought into circumstances of adversity, I have born chastisement, I will not offend any more. That which I see not teach thou me; if I have done iniquity, I will do no more. *
DAVID, upon whom they had their genuine effects, acknowledged, and said, I know, O Lord, that thy judgments are right, and that in faithfulness thou hast afflicted me. It is good for me that I have been afflicted. Before I was afflicted I went astray; but now have I kept thy word.
BUT, to pay no attention to the voice of Providence in afflictions, to conduct under them like Pharaoh, who as God multiplied his judgments upon him, sinned yet more, and hardened his heart, is to strive with God, as if sinners were resolved that he should not have the mastery.
PERSONS of such a character have great reason to fear, lest God should let them alone, lest he should give them over to judicial blindness of mind, and hardness of heart, and leave them, without check or controul, to treasure up unto themselves wrath against the day of wrath. I proceed,
SECONDLY, To shew the great guilt and danger of striving with God, our Maker.
THIS I will endeavour, briefly, by considering that they, who strive with their Maker, are guilty of opposing their rightful Lord and Sovereign, who alone can make them happy, in those methods he is graciously pleased to take for the promotion of that benevolent purpose, and are continually liable to be exposed to his vindictive displeasure, and will finally be made the monuments of his eternal vengeance, if they persist in opposing his compassionate efforts to save them from perishing.
[Page 17] 1. THEY are guilty of opposing their supreme Lord and Sovereign in those methods he is graciously pleased to take for the promotion of their best happiness.
As our lawgiver God may well be considered as our benefactor. We need directions for the regulation of our temper and behaviour. Being formed with capacities for moral government, we cannot be happy without well ordered actions and inclinations. Such is the nature of the divine commands that in keeping them there is great reward.
A GRAND design of the dispensations of his grace is, to rectify the disorders into which we have run by our disregard to his holy law,—to reduce us to submission to his government—to settle and establish in our souls that kingdom, which consists in righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.
WITH this benevolent design all God's providential dealings with us truly harmonize.—This being the case; What baseness! What ingratitude! What folly is involved in the sin of striving with him! In opposing him we oppose our own most important interest. Sad beyond expression would be our case should God leave us under the power of a carnal mind. Sin carries much of its own punishment with it: The confusion and disorder into which it plunges the soul are very fearful.
GREATLY alarming is their condition who contend with God: They are chargeable with the guilt of contemning his infinite Majesty, vilifying his wisdom, disparaging his justice, abusing his goodness and defying his power, as if they were stronger than he. His patience will not endure forever. His spirit will not always strive with man. Which brings me to say,
[Page 18] 2. THAT all who strive with God are continually liable to be made examples of his vindictive displeasure, and will finally be monuments of his eternal vengeance, if they persist in opposing his compassionate efforts to save them from perishing.
WE are absolutely in his hands. It is not for want of power to punish that he bears with any who treat him with indignity. Whenever he pleases, he can ease himself of his adversaries, and avenge himself of his enemies—he can pour out upon them the vials of his hot displeasure, which will make them curse their folly in rising up against and contending with him.
THE Wo denounced by him no one can escape, who continues to oppose his administration. There is an appointed "day of wrath, and revelation of the righteous judgment of God, when he will render to every man according to his deeds: To them, who by patient continuance in well doing, seek for glory, and honor and immortality, eternal life: but unto them that are contentious, and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness; indignation and wrath; tribulation and anguish upon every soul of man that doeth evil". * At that great and terrible day "the Lord Jesus," by whom God will judge the world, "shall be revealed from heaven, with his mighty angels, in flaming fire, to take vengeance on them that know not God, and that obey not the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ: Who shall be punished with everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and from the glory of his power" †. It remains for me,
THIRDLY, To make an application of the subject to the present very solemn and awful occasion.
[Page 19] THE very shocking and execrable deeds perpetrated last Wednesday morning by a man in this society have led me to the observations in this discourse.
THAT a person, favoured with Christian light and liberty, who appeared to be an affectionate husband, and a tender, fond parent, should, with deliberation and in cool blood, massacre an amiable wife, and four lovely and promising children, and then take away his own life, is an event so extraordinary, surprising, and unheard of, that we can scarcely believe it a reality, though the corpses of the unhappy woman and children, with the most affecting marks of violence upon them, are here present before our eyes.
HAD he left no written account of his intentions and views respecting the destruction of himself and family, we should have been ready to consider it as the effect of a sudden and most vehement frenzy. But by his writings he appears to have had it in contemplation for three years.
THE time he first fixed upon for carrying into execution his horrid and detestable purpose was the 18th of last month. Not long before this he writes thus: "I mean to close the eyes of six persons thro' perfect humanity, and the most endearing fondness and friendship; for mortal father never felt more of these tender ties than myself.—How I shall really perform the task I have undertaken I know not 'till the moment arrives; But I believe I shall perform it as deliberately, and as steadily as I would go to supper, or to bed."
IN one of the last letters he wrote, there is the following passage: "Any man that undertakes any great affair, and at the same time thinks, ought to be very deliberate indeed; and think and reflect again and again. [Page 20] On the morning of the sixth of December I rose before the sun, felt calm, and left my wife between sleep and wake, went into the room where my infants lay, found them all sound asleep; the means of death were with me, but I had not before determined whether to strike or not, but yet thought it a good opportunity. I stood over them, and asked my God whether it was right or not, now to strike; but no answer came: nor I believe ever does to man while on earth. I then examined myself, there was neither fear, trembling nor horror about me. I then went into a chamber next to that, to look at myself in the glass; but I could discover no alteration in my countenance or feelings: this is true as God reigns, but for further trial I yet postponed it." And when the fatal morning was come it does not appear by any one circumstance, but that he set himself about and went thro' the abominable work of murdering his wife, four children and himself, with as much steadiness, composure and firmness as he supposed he should.
What a monster of a man was this! What were his principles that could lead him into such detestable and more than savage conduct? Surely it concerns us to know that we may guard against and avoid them as most pernicious to individuals and societies. These he has left a written account of.
SPEAKING of the Christian religion he says, "It is a most benevolent system, and would produce grand effects, if it was really believed and universally practised. I firmly believed it for many years; but my adherence to its precepts when every one else forsook them, has been my bane on earth: But never mind that, if it is really true I shall be saved by it yet. And now I must generously own, that I have as many doubts about the truth of that, as I have about the truth of any other scheme of religion, [Page 21] that ever appeared in the world.—When I consider men as Christians, I look on them as free agents; I have examined both old and new Testaments, and must think that is their true meaning and intent. But when I consider man as a Deist, or one that does not believe revelation, I think him a perfect machine, and that he can do nothing, but as he is operated upon by some superior power—I have renounced all the popular religions in the world, and mean to die a proper Deist. I really think that there never was any thing done wrong in the world, but believe that all is right;—that we are all impell'd to say and act, every thing that we do say and act.—That a tyrant king, or two or three fierce republicans deluging three quarters of the world in blood—that my killing my family—that a man's destroying a nest of wasps, or a fly, is as much directed by the hand of heaven as the making this whole world was—And if this is the case there is no such thing as sin."
THUS he frankly owns, that he had apostatized from the Christian religion and embraced the principles of deism and fatalism,—that he believed men to be meer machines, and God the author of all their actions in such a sense as to exclude the possibility of sin from the world. The idea of future punishment he also rejects, as inconsistent with the goodness of God, though he says, "I know by experience there is no want of hells in this state of things." And seems to be full in the opinion that he and his shall be happy in the future world whether he be right or not in rejecting the Christian revelation.
THESE principles appear to have had a main influence in reconciling him to actions which have a selfevident criminality in them, and which every man's mind, at first view, cannot but abhor and condemn.
[Page 22] PRIDE, impatience, and cowardice first led him to think of destroying himself and family, and operated powerfully in bringing him to determine upon it. He had a high opinion of his intellectual abilities; and was uneasy with the meanness of his personal appearance, and slenderness of his fortune. He writes, "My person is small and mean to look on, and my circumstances were always rather narrow; which were great disadvantages in this world: But I have great reason to think that my soul is above the common mould.—There are but few men capable of deism; they are when found like a diamond among a million of pebbles."
HE murmured and complained of Providence in the following language: "I was determined not to hasten the matter" (of destroying himself and family) "but kept hoping that yet Providence would turn up some thing to prevent it, if the intent were wrong: but instead of that every circumstance, from the greatest to the smallest trifle, during the whole of that term" (i. e. three years) "and long before, only tended to convince me that the utmost malevolence of fortune was, and is, against me, on earth. I have born the "stings and arrows of outrageous fortune" long enough; and "by opposing I can only end them."
BEING too haughty to submit to the humbling dispensations of Providence, and not having fortitude and courage enough to encounter and sustain the inconveniencies arising from straitened circumstances, he entertained the cowardly thought of flying from them and taking sanctuary in the unknown world: But the guilt and danger of such conduct, upon supposition of the truth of the sacred scriptures, were to apparent to suffer him to resolve upon it, before he had brought himself [Page 23] to disbelieve and reject them. And to render it still less hazardous in his view he gave into the fatalistic scheme, judging God to be so far the author of all the actions of men as to allow them no other agency than that of meer machines; and upon this Hypothesis concluded that there is no sin. In which he is doubtless more consistent than those who admit the same hypothesis, and yet hold that men are accountable for their conduct.
BUT even such a view of the actions of men, added to his professed disbelief of the Revelation of the Bible and future punishment, was not sufficient fully to satisfy him with respect to his safety in perpretating deeds so unnatural and atrocious; and therefore he called in the aid of fanaticism and superstition.
IN one of his letters he says, "You may believe the hand of heaven is in this matter. I used to be a great enemy to superstition: But, however it is, I have lately had sundry intimations, I really think, from God to convince me that I am right; but these I shall not describe.—I mentioned before, that my wife had a dream concerning this affair," (which in another paper, dated November 18, he relates in these words: "Yesterday morning she told me her dream—that she thought I had wrote many papers, and was earnestly concerned about her—that these papers were spotted with blood—that she also saw a man wound himself past recovery; and blood guggle (as she expressed it) from different parts of his body. Poor woman! She little thought that the greater part of that dream would be realized within three days—But I am unappalled and think the hand of heaven is really with us.") "She has since had two more—one of them, That she was suddenly seized, and liable to great punishment—that it [Page 24] created great confusion; but she afterwards got free and was happy. From her excellence of heart I have no doubt but this will be the case with her. On the thanksgiving night she dreamed that her three daughters all lay dead, and they even froze in that situation; and even yet I am little affected. O my God, wonderful indeed are thy works; in the highest wisdom hast thou contrived them all! All must be right, or I am hardened indeed.—Some of these will be called the suggestions of the devil: But men may rely upon it, that I have ever trusted in a much higher power; and 'tis he alone that now directs me and supports me."
IN another letter, speaking of the intended massacre of himself and family, he says: "In fine clear days, when I am most chearful, and in a morning when I first wake, free from any disturbance, I seem to be convinced in a steady, calm and reasonable way, that it is appointed for me to do it—that it is my duty and that it must be done. That it is God himself that prompts and directs me, in all my reflections and circumspection, I really believe. But if it should at last prove Mr. Devil, or any other evil spirit, all that I can say about it is, that I was born a very unlucky fellow."
DREADFUL delusion! Strange inconsistencies! Horrid blasphemy! How surprizing is it, that a man, who rejects the infallible evidences in favour of the divinity of the Christian religion, a religion which he allows to be most benevolent, and with whom it seems to be a maxim, that God never makes an extraordinary revelation of himself to man while upon earth, should pretend, and be confident, that He has given him sundry intimations that he is right in forming, and taking measures to carry into execution, designs condemned by the light of nature as absolutely wrong, [Page 25] and which no man▪ whose conscience is not seared as with a hot iron, can think of without abhorrence! How surprizing, that one, who ranked himself among the few sublime geniuses, who only, as he supposed, are capable of deism, that is, of withstanding the force of the mighty evidence in support of the divine authority of the Bible, should produce his wife's dreams and his own feelings at her narration of them as a convincing argument that the hand of heaven was with him! Such dreams, related in the manner we may suppose they were by her, had a natural tendency to move the tender passions, and give a check to his pernicious designs. This he seemed to be aware of, and considered his being unaffected and unappalled as owing either to supernatural divine help and support, or to his own hardness; the latter he would not admit: How astonishing that he could imagine it to be the former!
BUT why do I say astonishing? Can any thing be so in one, who, in an enlightened age, so far sets himself against God as to reject a revelation attended with all the evidence, both internal and external, of it's divine original, that the nature of the thing will admit?
CAN any thing be surprising in one, who in contradiction to the light of reason, and his own consciousness of human liberty and free agency, considers mankind as perfect machines, and God as the efficient cause of all the actions of wicked men?
CAN we suppose any opinion too absurd to be received by such an one—any inconsistency too glaring for him to be guilty of?
CAN we suppose it strange, that such an one should be given over by God to strong delusion, that he should believe a lie, that he might be damned, who believed not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteousness?
[Page 26] THE horrid deeds perpetrated by this man under the influence of such principles, are a more effectual confutation of those principles, than any it is in the power of language to produce.
The terrible judgment of heaven in permitting one, who prided himself in the character of a deist and fatalist, to be carried by his error to so dreadful a length as with deliberation and dispassion to murder himself and his whole family, I am ready to think, will, wherever it is known, strike terror into the minds of all who glory in such a character, if any thing will produce such an effect, short of the coming of the Judge of the world in flaming fire, to take vengeance on his enemies.
IF any dare avow such principles after they have been acted out in this most awful manner, and we have such shocking evidence of their mischievous and fatal tendency, they ought to be treated as persons most dangerous to society.
How greatly to be dreaded are all who embrace such principles?
How unfit are such persons to be intrusted either with private or public important affairs, whatever their accomplishments may be in other respects?
How unsafe must a woman, or family be in the hands of a man under the influence of such principles? His affection, his fondness for them instead of being their security may prove the very occasion of their destruction. This was the case with the unhappy woman and children whose remains are here before us.
IT is a very threatning aspect upon us that there are so many in this land, a land greatly distinguished in respect [Page 27] of religious light and liberty, who scoff at and ridicule the glorious gospel of the blessed God.
O THAT all, who thus strive with their Maker and Redeemer, might be awakened by his voice, which cries with such terrible accents in this event, and alarmed with a sense of their guilt and danger.
BUT if such bold opposers of God are become so far judicially blinded, that the things of their peace shall be forever hidden from their eyes; yet it is hoped that others, who are not fixed in loose principles, though often guilty of thinking and speaking lightly of the doctrines of Christianity, will take the alarm, and beware lest they be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin,
ALL who are impatient under adverse providences, being disposed to murmur and complain, and take unlawful methods for relief, have great reason to tremble.
BY thus striving against God they dishonor and provoke him to anger. Should he leave them to themselves they would pursue measures that would end in their eternal ruin.
IT becomes us as men, and especially as Christians, to endure afflictions with humility, patience and fortitude, and learn in whatsoever state we are therewith to be content.
HAD the unhappy man, who chose to destroy himself and family rather than live in a style below what he vainly imagined became a person of his consequence, been contented with food and raiment which he had, and might have procured—had he been humble—had he not distrusted God, he might have been among the living, and his season of probation lengthened out; but [Page 28] giving way to pride and impatience he was permitted to commit crimes of great magnitude, the last of which he could have no opportunity to repent of, and his account is sealed up to the judgment of the great day.
THAT he should be suffered to manage his hellish purposes with such secrecy for so long a time, and at last put them into execution unsuspected, is one of the deep things of God which calls for humiliation.
—WE we are now come together to solemnize the funeral rites of the victims who fell a sacrifice to a husband's and father's dreadful error, and to lament their very singular fate. They have no relatives present to mourn for them. The countenances and tears of this large assembly make it manifest that every one is affected with grief, and disposed to bewail their untimely, sudden and shocking death.
WHILST we weep for the very unfortunate woman and children who are not—let us think with tender sympathy of her aged surviving mother and other near relatives at a distance, and pray for them—that they may be prepared for evil tidings—that their hearts may be fixed trusting in the Lord, and that they may have all that divine support and consolation which such a very singular trial and affliction may call for.
To draw to a close—
LET us all lay it to heart, that it is appointed to all men once to die, but after this is the judgment.
THE day and manner of our death we know not. Our times are in the hand of God. It is of the last importance that we make our peace with him before it be too late. The awful event which has brought together such a concourse of people, at this time, is a most humbling [Page 29] and alarming evidence of the dreadful depravity of human nature and the great danger of striving with our Maker.
IT is astonishing to think what crimes the human mind is capable of when left to itself. Did not God sometimes in righteous judgment take off his restraint from sinners, we should not believe it possible for them to rise to such a pitch of inhumanity and wickedness as some have done.
LET us be afraid to strive with our Maker and oppose him in any way whatever. None ever hardened themselves against him and prospered. Wherein any of us have striven with him may we be engaged to do so no more; but be solicitous heartily to submit to his laws, which are all holy, just and good— thankfully to receive the dispensations of his grace—humbly acquiesce in his afflicting providence and cheerfully comply with the kind designs of it.
AND may the Lord be pleased to pour out his spirit upon us all, and bring every thought, inclination and desire of our souls into a compleat subjection to his will, that we way be found of him in peace, without spot, and blameless at the great day of his appearing.
WATCH ye therefore and pray always, that ye may be accounted worthy to escape all these things that shall come to pass, and to stand before the Son of Man.
A LETTER from a Gentleman in Wethersfield, to his Friend, containing a Narrative of the Life of William Beadle (so far as it is known) and the particulars of the Massacre of himself and Family.
'TIS not strange that reports various and contradictory should have circulated on so interesting and terrible a subject as that of a man's consigning to the grave himself and family in a moment of apparent ease and tranquility. The agitation of mind which must be the consequence of being near such a scene of horror, will sufficiently apologize for not answering your request for the particulars e'er this. Our ignorance of the history of this man at first precluded a possibility of giving you satisfaction on this head. Perhaps no one in this town had more favorable opportunities of obtaining the particulars of his history: yet, could never induce him to mention a single syllable relating to his age, parentage, or early occupation. To have asked him directly would have been rude when he evidently meant to be silent on these subjects. My conjecture was, that he was the natural son of some gentleman in England, and that he had been brought up in or near London, and had been about the Court. Since his decease have been able to learn from undoubted authority, that he was born in the county of Essex, in a village not very far from London. As to his business in youth am still left in the dark, but find he has once mentioned to a gentleman, some little incidents which happened to him while in company with his father, and that he very early became acquainted with a club in London who were Deists, where 'tis probable he received the first rudiments in those principles. While in England, where he left a mother and sister, he had a fair character for integrity and honesty. In the year 1755 he went out to the island of Barbadoes, in the family of Charles Pinfold, Esq [Page 32] Governor of that island, where he tarried six years, then returned to England, purchased some merchandize, and from thence came to New-York in the year 1762, and immediately removed to Stratford in this State, from thence to Derby, and then to Fairfield, where he married and dwelt some years.—By this time he had acquired about twelve hundred pounds property, with which he removed to this town, about ten years since, where he resided until his death. His business was that of retailing, he formerly credited his goods, but since his residence in this town he has refused to give any credit, intending to keep his property within his own reach, believing it always secure while his eye was upon it. While here he added considerable to his stock, none of which he ever vested in real estate; the Continental currency taught him that wealth could take to itself wings and fly away: Notwithstanding all his vigilance.
When the war commenced he had on hand a very handsome assortment of Goods for a country store, which he sold for the currency of the country, without any advance in the price▪ the money he laid by, waiting and expecting the time would soon arrive when he might therewith replace his goods, resolving not to part with it until it should be in as good demand as when received by him. His expectations from this quarter daily lessening, finally lost all hope, and was thrown into a state little better than dispair, as appears from his writtings; he adopted a plan of the most rigid family oeconomy, but still kept up the outward appearance of his former affluence, and ever to the last entertained his friend with his usual decent hospitality, although nothing appeared in his outward deportment, which evinced the uncommon pride of his heart; his writings shew clearly that he was determined not to bear the mortification of being thought by his friends poor and dependent. On this subject he expresses himself in the following extraordinary manner: "If a man, who has once lived well, meant well and done well, falls by unavoidable accident into poverty, and then submits to be laughed at, despised and trampled on, by a set of mean wretches as far below him as the moon is below the sun; I say, if such a man submits, he must become meaner than meanness itself, and I sincerely wish he might have ten years added to his natural life to punish him for his folly."
He fixed upon the night succeeding the 18th of November for the execution of his nefarious purpose, and procured a supper of oysters, of which the family eat very plentifully; that evening he writes as follows: "I have prepared a noble supper of oysters, that my flock and I may eat and drink together, thank God and die." After supper he sent the maid with a studied errand to a friend's house at some distance, directing her to stay until she [Page 33] obtained an answer to an insignificant letter he wrote his friend intending she should not return that evening—she did however return, perhaps her return disconcerted him and prevented him for that time. The next day he carried his pistols to a smith for repair; it may be, the ill condition of his pistols might be an additional reason for the delay.
On the evening of the 10th of December some persons were with him at his house, to whom he appeared as chearful and serene as usual; he attended to the little affairs of his family as if nothing uncommon was in contemplation. The company left him about nine o'clock in the evening, when he was urgent as usual for their stay; whether he slept that night is uncertain, but it is believed he went to bed. The children and maid slept in one chamber; in the grey of the morning of the 11th of December he went to their bed chamber, awaked the maid and ordered her to arise gently without disturbing the children; when she came down stairs he gave her a line to the family physician, who lived at the distance of a quarter of a mile, ordered her to carry it immediately, at the same time declaring that Mrs. Beadle had been ill all night, and directing her to stay until the physician should come with her; this he repeated sundry times with a degree of ardor. There is much reason to believe he had murdered Mrs. Beadle before he awaked the maid. Upon the maid's leaving the house he immediately proceeded to execute his purpose on the children and himself. It appears he had for some time before, carried to his bed side every night an ax and a carving knife; he smote his wife and each of the children with the ax on the side of the head as they lay sleeping in their beds; the woman had two wounds in the head, the scull of each of them was fractured; he then with the carving knife cut their throats from ear to ear; the woman and little boy were drawn partly over the side of their beds, as if to prevent the bedding from being besmeared with blood; the three daughters were taken from the bed and laid upon the floor side by side, like three lambs, before their throats were cut; they were covered with a blanket, and the woman's face with an handkerchief. He then proceeded to the lower floor of the house, leaving marks of his footsteps in blood on the stairs, carrying with him the ax and knife, the latter he laid upon the table in the room where he was found, reeking with the blood of his family. Perhaps he had thoughts he might use it against himself if his pistols should fail; it appears he then seated himself in a Windsor chair, with his arms supported by the arms of the chair; he fixed the muzles of the pistols into his two ears and fired them at the same instant: the balls went through the head in transverse directions. Although the neighbours were very near and some [Page 34] of them awake, none heard the report of the pistols. The capital facts of the massacre you have seen in the public papers; a minute detail was too horrible to be given at first, until the mind (especially of the relatives of the unhappy woman) had been prepared for it by a summary narrative, and even now 'tis enough to give feelings to apathy itself to relate the horrid tale.
The line to the physician obscurely announced the intentions of the man; the house was soon opened, but alas too late! The bodies were pale and motionless, swimming in their blood, their faces white as mountain snow, yet life seemed to tremble on their lips; description can do no more than saintly ape and trifle with the real figure.
Such a tragical scene filled every mind with the deepest distress; nature recoiled and was on the rack with distorting passions; the most poignant sorrow and tender pity for the lady and her innocent babes, who were the hapless victims of the brutal, studied cruelty of an husband and father, in whose embraces they expected to find security, melted every heart.—Shocking effects of pride and false notions about religion.
To paint the first transports this affecting scene produced, when the house was opened, is beyond my reach.—Multitudes of all ages and sexes were drawn together by the sad tale.—The very in most souls of the beholders were wounded at the sight, and torn bycontending passions: Silent grief, with marks of astonishment, were succeeded by furious indignation against the author of the affecting spectacle, which vented itself in incoherent exclamations.—Some old soldiers accidentally passing thro' the town that morning, on their way from camp to visit their friends, led by curiosity turned in, to view the sad remains; on sight of the woman and her tender offspring, notwithstanding all their firmness, the tender sympathetic tear stealing gently down their furrowed cheeks, betrayed the anguish of their hearts; on being shewed the body of the sacrificer they paused a moment, then muttering forth an oath or two of execration, with their eyes fixed on the ground in silent sorrow, they slowly went their way. So awful and terrible a disaster wrought wonderfully on the minds of the neighbourhood; nature itself seemed rustled, and refused the kindly aid of balmy sleep for a time.
Near the close of the day on the 12th of December, the bodies being still unburied, the people, who had collected in great numbers, grew almost frantic with rage, and in a manner demanded the body of the murderer; the law being silent on the subject, it was difficult to determine where decency required the body should be placed, many proposed it should be in an ignominious manner where four roads met, without any coffin or insignia of respect, and perforated by a stake. Upon which a question [Page 35] arose, where that place could be found which might be unexceptionable to the neighbourhood—but no one would consent it should be near his house or land. After some consultation it was thought best to place it on the bank of the river between high and low water mark; the body was handed out of the window and bound with cords on a fled, with the cloaths on as it was found, and the bloody knife tied on his breast, without coffin or box, and the horse he usually rode was made fast to the sled—the horse, unaccumstomed to the draught, proceeded with great unsteadiness, sometimes running full speed, then stopping, followed by a multitude, until arriving at the water's edge, the body was tumbled into a hole dug for the purpose, like the carcase of a beast. Not many days after there appeared an uneasiness in sundry persons at placing the body so near a ferry much frequented; some threatnings were given out that the body should be taken up and a second time exposed to view. It was thought prudent it should be removed, and secretly deposited in some obscure spot, it was accordingly removed with the utmost secrecy; notwithstanding which some children accidentally discovered the place, and the early freshes partly washed up the body, and it has had a second remove to a place where it is hoped mankind will have no further vexation with it.
On the 13th of December the bodies of the murdered were intered in a manner much unlike that of the unnatural murderer.—The remains of the children were borne by a suitable number of equal age, attended with a sad procession of youths of the town, all bathed in tears; side by side the hapless woman's corpse was carried in solemn procession to the parish church yard, followed by a great concourse, who with affectionate concern and every token of respect were anxious to express their heart-felt sorrow in performing the last mournful duties.
The person of Mr. Beadle was small, his features striking and full of expression, with the aspect of fierceness and determination; his mind was contemplative, when once he had formed an opinion, was remarkably tenacious; as a merchant or trader, he was esteemed a man of strict honor and integrity, and would not descend to any low or mean artifice to advance his fortune. He was turned of 52 years of age when he died.
Mrs. Beadle was born at Plymouth, in Massachusetts, of reputable parents—a comely person, of good address, well bred, unusually serene, sincere, unaffected and sensible; died in the middle of life, aged 32 years.
The children (the eldest of which was a son, aged 12 years, the other three, daughters, the youngest aged 6 years) were such as cheared the hearts of their parents, who were uncommonly fond of displaying their little virtues and excellencies, [Page 36] and seemed to anticipate a continuance of growing parental satisfaction; alas, like early tender buds nipped by untimely frosts, they did but begin to live!
It is more than probable, this man had for months past desired that some or all of his children might be taken out of the world by accident; be removed all means of security from a well near his house, which he was careful heretofore to keep covered. His little boy he often sent to swim in the river, and has been heard to chide the child for not venturing further into deep water than his fears would suffer him. He has at times declared it would give him no pain or uneasiness to follow his children to the grave—his acquaintance knew these expressions could not arise from want of affection or tenderness for his children, but rather imagined him speaking rashly in jest. He ever spoke lightly of death as a bugbear the world causlessly feared. It appears from his writings, he at first had doubts whether it was just and reasonable for him to deprive his wife of life, and offers against it, only this reason, that he had no hand in bringing her into existence, and consequently had no power over her life.—She set out about the first of November on a journey to Fairfield, which he thought was by direction of Heaven to clear him of his doubts and remove her out of the way, at the time the business was to be done; and his intention was to have executed his design on himself and children in her absence. She proceeded no further than New-Haven, and by reason of some disappointment, returned ten days earlier than expected; he appeared chagrin'd at her early return, and soon began to invent some justifying reasons for depriving her of life also. He finally concludes it would be unmerciful to leave her behind to languish out a life in misery and wretchedness, which must be the consequence of the surprizing death of the rest of the family, and that since they had shared the frowns and smiles of fortune together, it would be cruelty to her, to be divided from them in death.
'Tis very natural for you to ask, whether it was possible a man could be transformed from an affectionate husband and an indulgent parent to a secret murderer, without some previous alteration, which must have been noticed by the family or acquaintance? Yet this was the case in this instance, there was no visible alteration in his conduct. It appears by his writings that he thought he had a right to deprive himself of life and intended to exercise that right if ever he should think himself unfortunate, the extension of this right to his children, was very easy. 'Tis probable, the principle had grown up gradually to the last stage. Since his death I have seen a letter he wrote to a friend as early as 1777, in which he has an expression like this—"I believe [Page 37] I and my family shall not live to see the end of the war."—It was then understood to mean nothing more than his expectation, the war would continue a long time, his late conduct has explained it very differently—Whether Mrs. Beadle had any fears of his evil intentions or not, is uncertain, that she had fears some great calamity would befal the family is evident, both from what she said, and what he has left in writing.—He writes on the 18th of November, that on the morning of the 17th she told him, "She dreamed he had wrote many papers, and was earnestly concerned for her, and that those papers were spotted with blood; and that she also saw a man wound himself past recovery and blood guggle (as she expressed it) from different parts of his body."—In another letter, of a later date, he writes as follows, viz. "I mentioned before that my wife had a dream concerning this affair, she has since had two more, one of them. That she was suddenly seized and liable to great punishment, that it created great confusion, but she afterwards got free and was happy; from her excellence of heart, I have no doubt but this will be the case with her.—On the thanksgiving night she dreamed, that her three daughters all lay dead, and that they even froze in that situation; and even yet I am little affected". *
The afternoon before this terrible execution, Mrs. Beadle walked abroad to visit an acquaintance, and it was observed by the lady, she was uncommonly pensive; she asked the reason, Mrs. Beadle with much concern told her, "She had for months been troubled with frightful and uncommon dreams, and that very morning she dreamed violence had been offered her family and her children destroyed; she said those dreams wrought on her mind to a very great degree, to divert her thoughts from them she had walk'd abroad that afternoon; and that she verily believed Providence had judgments in store for their family, which he was about to inflict on them by some sweeping sickness, or in some other awful manner."—Mr. Beadle, who, as appears by his writings, was alone privy to his malevolent intentions, put a very different construction upon her dreams. He doubtless considered them as premonitions from Heaven, and convincing proof to him that his purpose was right, of which he says he had sundry intimations he really thought from God himself, which he does not describe.
From whence those dreams originated it is impossible to determine; whether 'the weapons he carried to his bed side gave [Page 38] her uneasiness and excited a jealousy in her mind of his intentions, or whether any of his conduct which fell under her observation might be alarming to her, which might trouble her sleep, no one can tell. She has lately mentioned sundry dreams of a similar nature, which she had near six months since. Some great and good characters have thought such intimations were at times given from on high, to convince mankind of the reality of the invisible world—to hazard such a conjecture in these modern days would perhaps be thought by the learned world a great mark of fanatacism—every man must think for himself, no one can pronounce with satisfactory certainty with respect to the origin and cause of such thoughts in sleep, which so nearly correspond with the true state of facts. Her last dream penned by him was nearly literally verified. Although the weather was serene and pleasant on the 10th, and near full moon: neither the sun or moon were visible from the time this horrid deed was done, until the body of this man was laid beneath the clods, which redoubled the horror: when suddenly the wind blew from the northwest, dispelled the vapours and discovered a cloudless sky. The air grew cold, and the faces of the other five being opened to view in their coffins, in the front of the meeting-house, the concourse was so great that much time was spent to give opportunity for all to take a view; the cold still increasing, the bodies in all probability were stifned with frost.
Mr. Beadle left sundry letters directed to his acquaintance, and one laboured treatise in justification of his conduct; they contain many inconsistencies. He professes himself a Deist, but reprobates Atheism. While in life and prosperity he claim'd to be a Christian, and offered two of his children in baptism. Much has been said in favour of publishing his writings by those who have not seen them; those who have perused them have doubted the propriety of such a measure; not because his reasonings against revelation were in any degree unanswerable, but lest they might have some effect on weak and melancholy minds. He attempts to attack all rulers in Church and State, treats the Christian religion with a great degree of bitterness and bigotry; and yet absurdly concludes by saying, "if it is true he shall be saved by it."—He is very unsettled, wavering and inconsistent in his own beloved system of Deism. He flatters his pride by believing it was the height of heroism to dare to die by his own hands, and that the Deity would not willingly punish one, who was impatient to visit his God and learn his will from his own mouth, face to face in some future world, or worlds (which he thinks may be many) and seems to think there is as great probability of succeeding advantageously, in removing from one world to another as from one country, or calling to another; and seeing all men [Page 39] must be jugged off at last (as he expresses it) he was determined to make the experiment voluntarily which all must do through necessity. As he was much out of temper with the world, he was unwilling any of his family should stay behind to encounter its troubles, and since 'tis a father's duty to provide for his flock, he chose to consign them over to better hands.
'Tis doubtful whether any history of modern times can afford an instance of similar barbarity, even in the extreme distress of war. The ancients encouraged by numbers and example, did in hours of despair destroy themselves and families, to avoid the shame of becoming captives to be led in triumph, and the cruelty commonly exercised in those barbarous ages.
By this time your curiosity itself will be pleased to find me subscribing myself,