THE book of Ecclesiastes is supposed to have been penned by Solomon in the latter pe­riod of his life, when he deeply felt the vanity of the world, and his own folly in complying with its temptations. He seems to wish the preserva­tion of others from these temptations, whilst they eyed his sad experience, as a beacon, erected to warn them, of the rocks and quick-sands in the sea of life. He employs this book, to teach them the vanity of all sublunary enjoyments, and to rec­ommend the love of GOD and obedience to his will, as the most solid good, and the noblest end of their being.

[Page 6]THOUGH the son of the celebrated David, and king of Israel, whose throne was the most splen­did then on the globe, yet he readily undertook the office of a Preacher or religious instructor to his brethren of mankind. "Vanity of vanities, vanity of vanities, all is vanity," is the leading theme of his discourse. "What profit," con­tinues he, "hath a man of all his labour which he taketh under the sun?" He derives no last­ing bliss from those toils, which are confined to the present life. "One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh." His stay on earth is transient. He passes off the stage, to make room for his successors, who, in their turn, must give place to those behind them. "But the earth abideth forever." He is more frail than the globe which he inhabits. For though this is devoted to destruction at the appointed close of its scenes, yet it survives the wreck of many successive generations, and affords its living actors an opportunity to cherish and display those virtues, which alone will crown them with im­mortality.

SOLEMN and deeply interesting to every mortal is the sentiment of our text.

NUMEROUS generations have trodden this earthly stage before us. Instead of the fathers, have been the children, who have rapidly succeed­ed to the paternal relation, and then yielded their places to posterity.

THE present period, which is the concluding LORD's Day of the year, and the commencement of a new century to this town, that received its [Page 7] name as an incorporated body, Dec. 8, 1691,^* has led me to the choice of those applicable and emphatic words, "One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh."

SOLOMON, though dead, yet speaks to us by them, and urges us so to improve our rapidly re­volving days, as shall best accomplish the design of life, and embalm our memory upon our depar­ture from the body.

WHEN man by his apostasy had subjected himself to death, the great Arbiter of human life saw fit, in the early age of the world, to postpone the execution of the sentence to the distance of several centuries. One generation did not pass away, and another generation come, with the ra­pidity of following periods.

THE antediluvians were permitted to see seven, eight, and nine centuries of years. Their slow progress to complete manhood, appears to have borne some proportion to their longevity. Sixty five, ninety, one hundred and five, and even one hundred and sixty two, are the advanced years, in which the paternal relation seems to be first form­ed among them.^†

[Page 8]HOWEVER, new and successive generations came on the stage, faster than those preceding were called to leave it.

AGREEABLY to the computation of the He­brew text, Adam lived two hundred and forty three years with Methusaleh of the eighth generation, and fifty six years with Lamech of the ninth, and the father of Noah.^* Noah lived till a few years before the birth of Abraham, and died at the ad­vanced period of nine hundred and fifty years.^† And though the age of man was gradually reduced after the flood, and Shem his son had his life cir­cumscribed within six hundred years, yet he ap­pears to have been contemporary with Abraham, of the tenth generation from him, till the con­cluding days of that patriarch, and to have sur­vived a little beyond the marriage of Isaac.^‡

THE duration of the following generations be­came less and less, till, in the days of Moses, three and four score years was the general standard.^§ [Page 9] I say, the general standard; for Moses himself arrived at one hundred and twenty years, and a few since his day have seen a still greater num­ber.^*

UPWARDS of three thousand years have revolv­ed since the date of this standard. During this space the various generations of mankind have left the stage, or succeeded to it in a similar man­ner. One generation has passed away, and anoth­er has come much within the same period.

THE ancients, among whom we reckon the sacred historians, often computed by genera­tions. Our Saviour's birth has been traced from Abraham in this way: But there has been a dis­agreement among writers in fixing the exact num­ber of years, which constitutes a generation. Job is said to have "lived one hundred and forty years" after his calamities, and to have "seen his sons, and his sons sons, even four generations." The ancient poets used the term age in the same sense with generation. Nestor, the wise Grecian general at the siege of Troy, is represented by Homer as having lived three ages (i. e. of thirty years each) or ninety years.

WE have already seen that a generation is to be computed longer in the antediluvian, than in the postdiluvian world.

[Page 10]IN different climates, at the present day, it is to be variously computed. In the East Indies the generations of the natives go off, and come on in a very rapid manner. Those years, which are the vigour of manhood among us, constitute old age with them.

AMONG us thirty three years appear to be a proper mean number, by which we may generally calculate our successive generations.

AMIDST the ravages of the human race, which death continually makes, it is a circumstance, which requires gratitude to divine Providence, that a whole generation is not swept off at once, and that a new generation gradually succeeds, and fills up the vacancy, which was made by the removal of their ancestors. Were it not for those births, which are constantly repairing the wastes of death, the scene, which is now acting by the king of terrors, would fill us with such surprise and distress, as would entirely unfit us for the business, the duties, and the innocent enjoyments of life.

THE removal of the generation of which we are a part, is so gradual, that we scarcely realize the havoc, which is making by the fell destroyer of our race. What our sensations would be, if the generation, with which we are conversant, were taken at once from our eyes, we may judge from the following story of an old man, who had groaned in confinement for forty seven years between four thick and cold stone walls in the late Bastile of France.^*

[Page 11] ^*"AT the accession of the present monarch, Louis XVI. this wretched prisoner was restored, with several others, to his liberty. Supported by a friendly arm, he sought out the street where he had formerly resided. He found it, but no trace of his house remained. One of the public edifices occupied the spot where it had stood. The houses of his nearest neighbours, which were fresh in his memory, had assumed a new appearance. Terrified, he stopped, and fetched a deep sigh. To him, what did it import, that [Page 12] the city was peopled with living creatures? None of them were alive to him. He was un­known to all the world, and he knew nobody; and whilst he wept, he regretted his dungeon.

"AT length accident brought in his way an ancient domestic, now a superannuated porter, who, confined to his lodge for fifteen years, had barely sufficient strength to open the gate. Even he did not know the master he had served. He informed him, that grief and misfortune had brought his wife to the grave thirty years before, that his children were gone abroad to distant climes, and, that of all his relations and friends, none remained. This recital was made with the indifference, which people discover for events long past, and almost forgotton. The miserable man groaned, and groaned alone. The crowd, which gathered round him, offering only un­known features to his view, made him feel the excess of his calamities, even more than he would have done in the dreadful solitude which he had left.

"OVERCOME with sorrow, he presented himself before the minister, to whom he owed that liber­ty, which was now a burden to him. Bowing down, he said,

"RESTORE me again to that prison, from which you have taken me. I cannot survive the loss of my nearest relations, of my friends, and, in a word, OF A WHOLE GENERATION. Is it possible, in the same moment to be informed of this UNIVERSAL DESTRUCTION, and not wish for death? This general mortality, which to the [Page 13] rest of mankind comes slowly and by degrees, has been to me instantaneous, the operation of a moment. Whilst secluded from society, I lived with myself only; but here I can neither live with myself, nor with this new race, to whom my anguish and despair appear only as a dream. There is nothing terrible to me in dying; BUT IT IS DREADFUL INDEED TO BE THE LAST."

"THE minister was melted. He caused the old domestic to attend this unfortunate person, as only he could talk to him of his family. This discourse was the single consolation, which he re­ceived: For he shunned all intercourse with a new race, born since he had been exiled from the world, and he passed his time in the midst of Paris, as he had done, whilst confined in a dungeon for almost half a century. But the chagrin and mortification of meeting no person, who could say to him, "We were formerly known to one another," soon put an end to his present exist­ence."

THOUGH some of each generation is continu­ally dropping into the grave, the more advanced generation is most liable to a removal. But the youngest generation will succeed to the place of their fathers, and soon arrive at those boundaries, beyond which they cannot pass. Our months, our years, roll on in rapid career. Numerous generations have been already housed in the place of silence and darkness, appointed for all the liv­ing. The time will soon arrive, when all, in whom the crimson tide of life now flows, will follow them, and join the vast majority of the dead.

[Page 14]WE stand as in a field of battle. Our fathers, our friends, our companions, our children, are cut down on our right and our left, and warn us of our approaching fall "in that war, in which there is no discharge."

THE sceptred monarch, the privileged cour­tier, and the crouching slave, are equally exposed to pass away. The learned and the illiterate, the rich and the poor, the aged and the young of each generation, must alike shift the present scene of things, and disappear from the view of behold­ers. The physician, whose friendly arm has often snatched his fellow men from the grave, will find all his knowledge in the healing art vain, to secure his own long abode with the liv­ing. The minister of JESUS, who recommends that religion, which alone affords solace against the approach of death, must soon bid adieu to the pious and benevolent duties of his office, and leave them to be discharged by his successors of the following generations. His people are walk­ing with him to the end of their mortal journey, and the places, which once knew them, in the sanctuary, on days devoted to religious worship, will shortly know them no more. A new gen­eration will rise up, instead of the old, to attend on the institutions of the gospel, to listen to the word of life, to offer their joint prayers and praises at the footstool of JEHOVAH.

WE are prone to congratulate those fathers of antiquity, who saw whole centuries revolve over their head, and enjoyed a kind of immortality on earth. But when we remember, that such lon­gevity [Page 15] would serve to lengthen out the woes of the miserable, which often can be borne with difficulty during the short period of the present race, that it would strongly tempt us to forget the momentous truth, that we are pilgrims and strangers on the earth—that it would harden the vicious in their iniquity (which appears to have been its effect on the old world) whilst they viewed such a long intervening period between them and the end of their course, the hour of their judgment; we must acknowledge, that life is long enough, to discharge the duties assigned us by Providence, and to prepare for that eter­nity of existence, of which the present is the dawn.

INSTEAD therefore of finding fault with the shortness and rapidity of human life in our age of the world, it becomes us to improve the portion of it, which may be allotted us, as becomes ra­tional, social, and immortal beings.

WE should beware, lest by our repining, dis­obedient, and ungrateful temper, we provoke the anger of that GOD, who "was grieved forty years long with the wicked generation" of the Israelites, which entered the Arabian wilderness on their way to Canaan, and who "sware in his wrath, that they should not enter into his rest."

THE various duties of [...]our respective stations and relations in life, should be faithfully and sea­sonably discharged. Remembering "the GOD in whose hand our breath is, and whose are all our ways," we should esteem it our most exalted priv­ilege, to "glorify him in our bodies, and our [Page 16] spirits, which are his," That sacred volume, which "brings life and immortality to light," should be affectionately cherished, and we should attach ourselves to it, as the directory of our steps, as the soother of our troubles, and our only sure support in a dying hour.

OUR thoughts should be deeply employed a­bout that heavenly Canaan, that "better coun­try," whither the feet of the righteous constantly tend, and where all the faithful followers of the LAMB shall form one holy, glorious, and blessed society forever. For "are we a chosen genera­tion, a royal priesthood, an holy nation, a pecu­liar people?" Do we "shew forth the praises of HIM, who hath called us out of darkness into marvellous light?" Do we, in fine, "believe on the SON of GOD," as glorious, as gracious? We "shall never die." When we shall be re­moved from the generations of mortals, our spir­its shall soar to the heavenly paradise. There we "shall eat of the tree of life," and "drink of the water of the river of life," and flourish in immortal youth amidst the splendors and the joys of eternity. But, whilst we anticipate the blessedness, which awaits the redeemed in anoth­er world, it becomes us not to forget our oppor­tunity of usefulness to the inhabitants of this. Despising that stinted charity, which begins, and confines itself at home, within a narrow and sel­fish circle, and which the gospel, exhibiting to us a divine Philanthropist, "who sought not his own," knows not; plans and deeds of benifi­cence, should engage our warm attention. Then, [Page 17] when, "like David," we have "served our own generation," we shall be prepared "to fall on sleep," to be "gathered to our fathers," and our "memory shall be blessed."

SUCH, my brethren, were the sentiments, such the conduct, in general, of the first settlers of New-England. Love to God, and to apparent duty, dictated their plans, and the execution of them. They deeply felt the frailty of human life, and that true worth, which religion and vir­tue stamp on it. They believed, that their gen­eration, like all the preceding, would pass away. They sought therefore, in the wilds of America, a retreat from the impositions and persecutions of the English hierarchy, that they might serve GOD, and their generation, agreeably to the dic­tates of their conscience. They wished to hand down the most sacred privileges of freemen and of christians inviolate to the latest posterity. They felt for the generations which were to suc­ceed them, and were careful to enact such laws, as might preserve the morals, and promote the useful and ^* literary education of their children, and children's children, till time should be no more.

WITH pleasure we learn, by the well informed tradition of our fathers, that the early settlers of this town exhibited, in general, that piety and virtue in their life, which has left an instructive lesson, as a legacy to their children, through fol­lowing generations.

[Page 18]THE exact period of the beginning of this set­tlement is unknown. As it was considered orig­inally a part of Cambridge, one of the most an­cient of our towns, and was styled Cambridge Vil­lage, or New Cambridge, till the year 1691, this district probably began to be cultivated soon af­ter the settlement of the old town.^*

REV. John Eliot, A. M. son of the apostolic Eliot, of Roxbury, and who took his first degree at Harvard college, A. D. 1656, was the first pastor of the church in this place. He was a person of undissembled piety and great zeal in the cause of religion. A tender affection subsist­ed between him and the people of his charge. [Page 19] A warm friendship prevailed between him and the venerable Mitchell of Cambridge, with whom he frequently exchanged pulpits. But though his people saw his light, and rejoiced in it, yet they were favoured with it only for a short sea­son. He died, Ae. 36, a little before the destruc­tive war, called king Philip's, and, on his death bed, mourned the visible declension of the churches of New-England from their original purity, declaring his belief, that some heavy cloud would soon burst upon the country as a punishment.

REV. Nehemiah Hobart, A. M. sometime fellow of Harvard college, soon succeeded him. In him the Repairer of breaches gave this bereaved flock a rich blessing. In him shone the scholar, the gentleman, and the christian. He was free from superstition and bigotry, but yet seriously engaged in ministerial duties. An unshaken harmony subsisted between him and his people during the forty years of his pastoral relation.^* An aged father,^† who lately deceased among us, and sat under his ministry till the age of seven­teen years, has repeatedly mentioned to me the delight, with which his people listened to his public services, and that tender, pathetic manner of preaching, which made his hearers, especially [Page 20] the youth, hang on his lips. He died, A. D, 1712, Ae. 64.^*

REV. John Cotton, A. M. a descendant from the celebrated Cotton, one of the first ministers of Boston, was ordained in Newton, A. D. 1714.

HE was eminent in the gift of prayer, and had a remarkable variety, facility, and fervour of ex­pression. He was an animated preacher, and appeared zealous in the duties of his office. His preaching was blest to the awakening, and, we trust, to the conversion of many. He died May 17, 1757, Ae. 64.^†

REV. Jonas Meriam, A. M. succeeded him, March 22, 1758. As he was well known to the present generation, this may be a sufficient apol­ogy for omitting a particular delineation of his character. It may, however, be remarked, in brief, that he was generally reputed to be a good scholar, to possess a very humane and pacific disposition, and a peculiar tenderness for the rep­utation of others. He died after a long illness, which he bore with great patience, August 13, 1780,^‡ Ae. 50.

THE church records, which were repeatedly burnt in the dwelling houses of the two last [Page 21] ministers, afford us no account of the church be­fore the year 1770. It is known to have been very numerous in the days of Mr. Cotton, and it was not small under his successor.^*

THE generations, which have passed away, had many good men, who were truly devout and upright, whose deportment corresponded with their religious profession. Those, who have sprung from them, and imitated their virtues, have been blessed by the GOD of their fathers.

WITH pleasure we observe, that several, now on the stage, appear mindful of the privilege of a religious descent and education, and humbly aim to tread in the steps of their pious ancestors. We cannot but anxiously wish, that the rising generation may be careful, not to stain those names, which have been rendered honourable by the conduct of those, who have formerly worn them, and will strive to increase their respecta­bility by their own virtues.

As the inhabitants of this town, in former days, were remarkably CONSTANT and SEASON­ABLE in their attendance on the ordinances of the sanctuary, it is much to be desired, that the present, and each future generation, may testify a [Page 22] similar regard to our holy religion, may seriously and universally celebrate the LORD's day, as be­comes christians.

A RECOLLECTION of the alarms, which dis­turbed the quiet of our fathers, and induced them frequently to repair, with their families, to the garrison house, erected on the commanding high ground in the eastern quarter, should fill us with gratitude for our undisturbed state.^* To divine Providence we are indebted, that we can sit under the shadow of our own vine and fig-tree, having no enemy near us, to molest, or make us afraid.^†

[Page 23]WE have also particular cause of thankfulness, that we are placed on a spot, at least as favoura­ble to health and longevity, as any within the United States of America, or perhaps in the world. Newton stands in a high and heathful situation. The purity, the salubrity of its air has been celebrated by some of the most eminent physicians, who have frequently recommended it to their patients, in a languid or consumptive state, as the most promising remedy.

AN uncommon proportion of its burials con­sists of persons of seventy years and upwards.^*

[Page 24]THE numerous emigrations, which have been making for many years past to new settlements, where vacant land is more plenteous and cheap, will not permit us to judge exactly of the in­crease of its successive generations, which collec­tively, would doubtless amount to several thou­sands.^*

THE peace and harmony, which prevail in the town, notwithstanding a diversity of religious societies and denominations, which have existed in later years, add to the happiness of our situa­tion.

BUT whilst it becomes us to recount, with gratitude, our privileges and blessings, we should [Page 25] also remember, that here we have no continuing city. The fashion of this world passeth away. Soon shall we close our eyes on all earthly scenes. Soon shall we behold man no more with the liv­ing, and our names shall swell the mighty cata­logue of the dead.

SOLEMN is the retrospective view of the many generations, that were once actors on the same stage, which we now occupy, and have gone be­fore us. At least one hundred and twenty eight distinct generations have existed since the days of Adam.^*

SUCCESSIVE generations have appeared, and disappeared, even in this infant country. The two first are entirely swept away, and though some scattered individuals of the rear of the third are to be found in a very few places, and a few of the fourth still remain among us, the great majority of the inhabitants consists of the fifth and sixth generations.

LET us then my brethren, seriously reflect on our own mortal condition, and improve the rapid career of time, to excite us to diligence in the service of GOD and our generation.

ABOUT a century and a half of years have elapsed since the first settlement of this place. A century has closed on us since its incorporation. [Page 26] At the same time we have arrived towards the close of a solar year, and begun a new century of our existence as an incorporated body.^*

GENERATION will roll upon generation, ere another like century shall commence to its un­born distant inhabitants. Long ere then, our eternal portion will be irrevocably fixed in that bright abode, where dwell GOD and CHRIST and pure intelligences, or in that infernal prison, where is weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth.

LET us then, my dear hearers, be wise to se­cure the friendship of that BEING, whose years are throughout all generations, and who is in the generation of the righteous forever. Then shall our bark glide softly down the stream of time, and successfully brave all the storms of life. Having GOD for OUR SHIELD and EXCEEDING GREAT REWARD, we shall have no occasion to fear the shocks of adversity, or the attacks of our spiritual foes. We shall tell his wonders and his love to the generation following us, and cheerfully recommend our offspring to that ALMIGHTY PARENT, who has condescended to promise, Ps. cxii 2, "The generation of the up­right shall be blessed."

[Page 27]AND, when we have finished our work as­signed us on earth, we shall quit the imperfect society and enjoyments of mortals, for the per­fect society, and the rapturous joys of the blessed. Then shall we see brighter suns, and more un­sullied skies. Or rather, then we shall be the permanent and privileged inhabitants of that city, which has no need of the sun or moon to shine in it; for the glory of GOD does lighten it, and the LAMB is the light thereof; and the na­tions of them, which are saved, shall walk in the light of it."

TO which abode and felicity may GOD admit us all, for CHRIST's sake,

AMEN.