Mother of President Edwards.
By Mrs. M. E. Doubleday
THERE is yet extant a letter from Mrs. Stoddard, of Northampton, to her daughter, Mrs. Edwards, of East Windsor, in which she congratulates her upon the birth of a son—that son since so well known as the elder Jonathan Edwards. It is a touching epistle, written in the quaint style and orthography of a century and a half since; and, while the mother rejoices in the health and happiness of her child, she communicates intelligence of events deeply afflicting their domestic circle, as she comprises in a few simple words a narrative which thrilled our school-days with fear and terror. She writes to her daughter that the Indians had made a descent upon the peaceful settlement of Denfield, and taken her half-sister, Mrs. Williams, (a daughter of Mrs. Stoddard, by a former marriage,) with her children, into captivity. And she tells her, too, of the death of a brother, in a prison, “at a place they called Brest, in France,” whither he had been carried after having been taken a prisoner from an English vessel. The heart of the mother had been wrung with anguish, but a sweet spirit of piety and submission breathes throughout the letter; while mingled with these more important events, are the trifling details of domestic life, and the kind remembrances of maternal love, as she sent a silver porringer to the baby, and an ounce of pins to the mother. We had then no manufactures, and such gifts were not to be despised. The more important events to which that letter referred have passed, like “a tale that is told;” yet there are many in our land who may feel that they have something like a personal interest in the cradle beside which that letter was read—in the pale mother who pondered the sad news as she rocked her sleeping boy. And those who duly estimate the influence of the mother upon the heart and mind, by the formation of one affecting the destinies of many, will feel no small interest in her to whom was committed the early impressions of the future divine and metaphysician. Mrs. Edwards inherited much of the talent of her father, the “venerable Stoddard,” and New England sages of the past century believed the intellectual powers of the celebrated son transmitted, as an inheritance, from the maternal side. Few have been placed in circumstances more entirely favorable to the strengthening and developing of the mental powers, and the cultivation of the moral affections, than was Jonathan Edwards; and he carried through life the influences of a pure and happy home. He shared the care and affection of his mother, with a large family of sisters; and if they none of them have acquired the celebrity of their brother, they were all well educated—in the language of this day, we may say highly accomplished—intelligent women. Their father taught them Latin and Greek, so that the elder sisters were the first instructors of their brother, though probably not so well versed in the classics as President Wolsey. At some fashionable school of these days, they were taught painting and embroidery, while the mother communicated things of far higher importance. She trained them in the fear of the Lord, and accustomed them to habits of industry, order and economy. And, marrying into the most respectable families of their native land, they carried with them the maxims, the habits, and the principles in which she educated them, and transmitted them to descendants who have been among the most useful and respectable of the Sons of New England. Many cares must have devolved upon the wife of a country minister in these old-fashioned times, in which the congregation looked to the minister’s family as the example to the flock; and while they showed them all deference, they expected a reciprocation of all neighborly kindness and civility; and when the minister’s doors were to be kept open, and the table spread for all wayfaring brethren, while the family circle was enlarged by students who were prepared for the pulpit in the study of the husband. But Mrs. Edwards was well able to meet, and well sustain them all. She was the mother of eleven children. President Edwards was her only son. She dwelt with the husband of her youth more than half a century. She survived him twelve years. She lived until she attained her ninetieth year, and passed the years of her widowhood in the house to which she had been brought a bride—where she had rocked the cradles of her children—where the marriage benediction had been pronounced over her daughters before they had left their father’s house—where she had known the joys of the wife, and the sorrows of the widow—had welcomed the new-born, and wept over the dead. Her husband’s success in the ministry doubly bereaved one whose age, position and character entitled her to all respect, and the people of her husband’s charge never forgot to show her all reverence. The last years of her life she read much, and the Bible and those theological works in which the New England puritans so much delighted, were always on her table; and the venerable matron seated beside it, with her knitting, often stopped to comment on passages read aloud by her daughter, who never left her, to the ladies of the neighborhood, who were fond of assembling in her parlor. And after the social visit, before they separated, the daughter would read a chapter from the book they loved so well, and then the aged woman commended them to God in prayer. And while many sought counsel and comfort from her, it was believed she was used in the conversion of many—who shall shine as jewels in the crown of her rejoicing. She was said to have been a woman of fine personal appearance, dignified and polished manners, educated in Boston, the seat of the provincial court, accustomed to all the etiquette and ceremonies of the colonial aristocracy, and teaching and observing in her own family all the proprieties of life and manners, even to that minutiae of dress and appearance which marked the manners of the higher classes in the day in which distinctions of rank were not forgotten.—Mrs. M. E. Doubleday.