This club, so celebrated in our local history, was organized in, or near, the fall of 1841. The record of its organization is lost, or at least a somewhat diligent inquiry has failed to bring it to light; but very satisfactory evidence has been obtained by the writer, showing that the beginning of its history was near the time above mentioned. The journal of the club, now in his possession, goes back to January of the year 1843, and the list of officers for that year is given as follows: Curators - D. H. Barlow, James N. Buffum, Benjamin F. Mudge; Treasurer - Isaac B. Cobb; Secretaries - Asa T. Newhall, Benjamin F. Mudge. The name of the President is not given, but it appears from allusions in the minutes that James P. Boyce occupied that position at that time. No complete list of the members is given in these records, and the following roll is probably defective in the omission of a few names which at some time in the history of the institution added to its usefulness, or shed luster upon its fame: George Hood, James N. Buffum, James P. Boyce, GeorgeW. Keene, George Foster, William V. Munroe, George W. Mudge, Daniel C. Baker, Stephen N. Breed, Abraham Pray, Thomas J. Pinkham, Dr. E. A. Kittredge, Isaac B. Cobb, Gustavus Attwill, Perry Newhall, Darius Barry, James Merrill, Jesse Hutchinson, William Bassett, Ebenezer Hussey, Nathan D. Chase, William A. Clough, Joseph M. Fuller, Addison Davis, Edwin Jeffreys, William D. Chamberlain, Dr. Daniel Perley, Plummer Chesley, H. M. Woods, Thomas Stacey, Joseph Smithurst, Ezra Baker, Elbridge Lovejoy, Warren Jewett, Oliver Porter, Henry Clapp, Thomas Chrystal, James M. Usher, Oliver H. Swain, Caleb Alden, Joshua Patch, Hiram A. Tenney, Caleb M. Long, Nathaniel Brown. A list of questions preserved in the journal of the society shows that the discussions took a wide range. Metaphysics, political economy, social science, party questions, physiology, temperance, and more especially the great question of slavery, which was then looming above the nation's horizon, and engaging the attention of North and South in angry controversy, and which ended a quarter of a century later through the shock of a gigantic war, were discussed, and probably settled to the satisfaction of some, both members and spectators. But whatever the decision of the question might be, the debate itself rarely failed to edify and amuse - though a rigid regard for truth would compel the declaration that the ratio of amusement was sometimes largely in excess of the edification. The following are a few of the multitude of questions discussed, but nothing except an actual attendance upon the debates can give any idea of the range the discussions took: "Has the Drama been a benefit to mankind?" "Is the multiplicity of Newspapers in our country beneficial? " "Is the Constitution of the United States a pro-slavery document?" "Is Man capable of self-government?" "Is the Christian Sabbath, so-called, of human or Divine origin?" "Would it be expedient to abolish Capital Punishment in this State?" "Has a person a right to get married in the present state of civilization?" "Is it expedient to dissolve the Union of the American States?" The writer would like to give a few pen-and-ink sketches of these debates. He was generally there, and can recall much pertaining to the regular proceedings, and more especially there remain imprinted on his memory the salient points - the incidents and episodes that painted in glowing colors the characteristics of members - and which gave to these discussions an interest that attracted spectators from far and near. But he is writing too near the scene of action to invest the portraits with the garb of personality, though posterity - not a very remote posterity - may have occasion to regret the scruples that too often, perhaps, deprive the world of much that it would like to know. When one of these characteristic debates was expected to come off, the vestry of the Silsbee Street Church was packed to overflowing, to witness a display that combined more elements of interest than are usually crowded into an evening's entertainment. As many of the present generation do not know where these debates took place, and as posterity will know nothing at all about it unless somebody records the fact, the writer would say that these meetings were held in the vestry of the Christian Church, near the railroad bridge, on the north-east side of Silsbee street. This vestry, which was long used as a voting-room for Ward Four, has undergone several changes since the days of the old club. The presiding officer did not attempt to confine debate within the strict limits of the terms of the question, but allowed a freedom that gave full scope to the genius, or learning, or oddities, of the several members. It was a treat to attend one of these debates. Not that great genius was often displayed. Not that great learning attracted the listeners with a show of erudition; for this was rarer still; (the writer remembers but two collegiates among the members;) but they were a set of men for whom the common school had done its usual work - though in some cases even this aid had been very slight - sharp, earnest men for the most part, with all their faculties on the alert. Many of them had risen from the shoemaker's seat, and not a few even then worked at the time-honored craft. It was a time when the shoemaker's shop was a center of instruction, where questions of every kind were canvassed. It was a time when the daily newspaper had already for some years done its peculiar work in educating the people on a broader scale than schools or colleges can reach. Each shop was an incipient debating club. Here were often found together Whig and Democrat, Abolitionists and Third Party men, each ready to throw down the gauntlet of debate, and eager for a tussle over some question of church or State, of national or of local politics. One would read the newspaper, the others would follow with comments of approval or dissent. Now a ringing paragraph would call forth a burst of applause from one side and a fierce denunciation on the other. It is not strange that these members came to the meetings of the club charged with the preparation they had received from the informal discussions of the workshops. But they were not all shoemakers. Here were ambitious politicians, rising young lawyers, and doctors of medicine; and now and then a doctor of divinity was there as a listener, and sometimes as a participant. As might be expected, the shoe manufacturer, or "boss," was fully represented here. Accordingly, questions of business or commerce, and all political measures having a bearing upon the trade and industries of the country, were considered and sifted - tariff, banks, internal improvements, machinery, all passed through the ordeal of examination and criticism. Now and then one of the members run to statistics. Perhaps he was a tariff or an anti-tariff man. When that question was up he would come in bristling with figures. He would give the scale of duties under the tariff of '24, which Webster did n't favor, and the scale under the tariff of '28, which Webster did favor. He would show how the sliding scale of the tariff of '32 worked, and if he was a fierce Whig he'd tell you that the salvation of the country depended upon the passage of the tariff bill of '42, which just then was agitating the nation from one end to the other. The Whig element in the club was large and influential. That party, so lately flushed with the victory that crowned the campaign of 1840 - the "hard cider" and "log cabin" campaign which ended in the election of Gen. Harrison (who died within a month of his inauguration), was now staggering beneath the blows given to Whig policy by his successor, John Tyler. His veto of the Bank Bill, a measure promptly passed by a Whig Congress, spread dismay through the ranks of the victorious party; but the dismay was soon forgotten in the exultation that followed the passage of the high tariff of '42. If there was anything else wanting to give zest to political discussions, the slavery question, which, even at that day, agitated the whole nation, was beginning to organize itself for political action. The leading Whigs of the club were George Foster, George W. Keene, Gustavus Attwill, Ebenezer Hussey, George W. Mudge, Isaac B. Cobb and Daniel C. Baker. The Democrats made the following showing: George Hood, Asa T. Newhall, William A. Clough, William V. Munroe, Plummer Chesley, Caleb M. Long, Thomas J. Pinkham, William D. Chamberlain and Joseph Smithurst. Others there were with either Whig or Democratic antecedents, but whose party ties had been somewhat loosened. These afterwards found themselves in the ranks of the Third Party, or doing valiant service under the banner of Anti-Slavery. The Abolition wing of the party was led - if it was led by anybody - by James N. Buffum. Perhaps none of his intrepid compeers would wish to deprive him of that honor. But the Anti-Slavery army at that time was one in which there was not much quarreling about rank, as the honors that came from successful leadership were too far in the distance to influence the ambition of many. And so were seen standing by Mr. B.'s side James P. Boyce - both with Quaker antecedents- Jesse Hutchinson, Addison Davis, Henry Clapp and Dr. E. A. Kittredge. Besides these there were others, less prominent as debaters, but equally decided in their convictions. Here were seen all styles of oratory, both of manner and matter - the spread-eagle, the pumphandle, the angular, the stock-still, and the grindstone styles. Besides these there was a miscellaneous or compound style, combining a variety of motions and gestures which it would take a long string of geometrical terms to exemplify. One of these orators would arise, and the expression on his face would seem to intimate that the world was his audience, and his forum all the dry land on the planet. With one hand gracefully lifted toward the west, and the other toward the east, he seemed equally willing to speak a good word for both hemispheres, and appeared on equally familiar terms with the setting sun and the Atlantic ocean. One of these orators was holding forth in this place about the time to which this record refers. Just as one of the audience left the vestry, he was met at the door by a friend, who inquired - "Who's up now ?'' "Oh, H. has got the floor." "What's he talking about?" "Well, when I came out he was staving a rainbow to pieces." One would end a very emphatic sentence by standing on his toes; as much as to say, "If that is n't about right I'd like to know it." Another would double up his fist and project it with great force in a direct line in front of him, making it exceedingly dangerous to any person within reach. Another had a motion like one turning a grindstone, with both hands hold of the crank. Still another astonished the listener with exhibitions of the explosive style, going off in spasmodic eruptions, whose force was measured by the steam generated in the debate. By very general consent Mr. Hood was the acknowledged leader of the Democratic forces. He was then in the prime of early manhood, an active and sagacious man of business, of large, general information, and a man of decided convictions. He was a thorough believer in the principles and general policy of the party to which he gave his support. The high positions with which he was then, and afterward, honored by his fellow-citizens were a recognition of his talents and his administrative abilities. He had already been repeatedly elected to the Legislature - a member of the House - and was elected to the Senate in 1843. In 1846 he was Democratic candidate for Lieutenant Governor. He was the first Mayor of the city, (1850) and was honored with a re-election the following year. In 1852 he was nominated for a seat in Congress, but was not elected. In 1853 he was chosen a member of the convention for revising the Constitution of the State. How much he was indebted to the training which the old Silsbee Street Debating Club gave him is a question that no man can answer; but no one acquainted with the facts would question the value of its influence. Mr. Hood was an uncompromising opponent of all tariffs. He believed they were monopolies, anti-democratic in principle, and pernicious in their influence upon the industrial interests of the country, and the welfare of the masses. In debate Mr. Hood was an animated and interesting speaker. He had a ready command of language, a rapid utterance, and was somewhat vehement in his manner. Mr. Hood came to these debates armed with facts and figures, and his methodical manner, his mastery of details, and his skill in handling his subject made him a formidable opponent. The leadership on the Whig side cannot be so clearly assigned to a single member. By general consent the palm of oratory would have been awarded to Ebenezer Hussey. In this respect he stood without a rival in the club; at least this seems to have been the verdict of history, as shown by a certain poetical effusion, in which he was styled the "Demosthenes of Lynn." But for general talent in debate there were others on all sides of the house his equal or his superior. On the tariff question perhaps the chief opponent of Mr. Hood's was Gustavus Attwill - usually known as "Major," as his father was before him. Like most of the members, Mr. Attwill learned the art of shoemaking in his youthful days. His education was such as the common schools could give him; but he improved his limited advantages by reading and independent investigation. He was as decided a Whig as Mr. Hood was a Democrat, and when the tariff question came up - or any similar question - there was generally a set-to between these champions. Mr. Attwill was an energetic speaker, delivering his opinion in a positive and fearless manner. He formed his conclusions deliberately, but never budged an inch from a position once taken. He impressed his audience that he was uttering his honest convictions, and whether his hearers agreed or disagreed with his conclusions, they gave him the respectful hearing which sincerity and courage always command. He usually came to these discussions prepared for the business in hand, and ready to follow the line of argument, however erratic its course, and at whatever tangent it might run. Hardly less decided in their convictions of the soundness of Whig policy, and none the less ready to rush into any breach to defend it, were Messrs. Foster, Cobb, and G. W. Mudge. Mr. Foster was one of the shrewdest debaters whose talents gave prominence to this society. He had received a good education; had been fitted for a teacher's profession, and then held the position of master in one of our public schools. He was, at this time, about thirty years of age. It is somewhat difficult to tell whether Mr. Foster was more formidable in making an attack than when acting on the defensive. He made assaults upon the most unexpected points, and conducted his line of defense with such skill and originality that his opponents could not even guess the extent of his fortifications. If an enlarged experience, and a riper culture, enabled him, in later years, when discussing some nice point of parliamentary law, to go back more readily to the time of Henry the Second, he could, at that early day, go back as far as was necessary to establish any point in history, even if a draft upon a remote antiquity had been needed to meet the wants of the occasion; and if it was needful to give a general chronological survey antedating the pyramids for a starting point, he could pursue it leisurely enough, and meander here and there sufficiently on the way down, to swamp any opponent either by the multiplicity of details or the length of time consumed in the narration. If there was one member who, more than another, took an interest in all the concerns of the club, and who showed his interest by the constancy of his attendance, and his readiness to do his full share of work, it was Isaac B. Cobb. Mr. Cobb came to Lynn from Methuen about the year 1835. His early education was extremely limited, the woods of Maine, where he spent his early days, not affording very ample facilities in the way of public schools. He established himself as a shoe manufacturer, and was noted throughout the town for the taste he showed in the styles of the boots and shoes he manufactured, and more especially for the honest quality of his goods. Mr. Cobb took a lively interest in all local and public matters, and was always ready to express his opinion upon the policy of any line of action, whether town, State, or national. He had full confidence in the soundness of his opinions, and expressed himself with an assurance that convinced the listeners of his sincerity, whatever the force of the logic might be upon the minds of the audience. Mr. Cobb was not a wide reader, but he kept himself tolerably informed upon current topics; and when this club was formed, or soon after, he became one of its most active members. Mr. Cobb kept a sharp lookout for breaches of parliamentary law. His prompt and emphatic "I call the gentleman to order" was often the signal for a discussion, or a "running fire" upon points of order that was often amusing, and sometimes instructive. Cushing's Manual had not then made its appearance, and "Jefferson's Manual," the only authority at the time, was then a very scarce book in town; but some of the members had been to the Legislature, which often led to a large display of knowledge which did not usually discriminate between parliamentary law and the practice of legislative bodies determined by special rules. If the chair decided adversely to Mr. C., then he was ready to make an appeal, and more than ready to debate it. This, perhaps, would be the beginning of a parliamentary episode. Two or three other motions would be made, and everything would get tangled all up. Then somebody, with the towering ambition to air his knowledge and cut the Gordian knot at the same time, would move the previous question. Then, perhaps, the Chairman would get equally tangled up in trying to decide what the previous question was to which the motion applied. Then two or three members would come to his rescue, especially if he was fresh in his experience as a presiding officer. Then, finally, if the hour was late, some one would move an adjournment, and thus end the Chairman's difficulties and the debate at the same time. But Mr. Cobb was not only ready for a parliamentary scuffle; he was equally ready to express his opinion upon all topics, whether they arose incidentally, or in the regular order of appointment. His conservative ideas led him to look with suspicion upon reform movements, or "new fangled notions," and whenever any of these subjects came up he was ready to blow his blast. On one occasion the slavery question was before the club. An abolition champion made allusion to "West India emancipation," and attempted to fortify his argument by the results of that measure. When he sat down, Mr. Cobb sprang to his feet. "Mr. President, the gentleman talks of West India emancipation. I tell him if he should read his Bible more and the Liberator less, he'd know more about West India emancipation." It is hardly necessary to say that an explosion followed. Mr. George W. Mudge was an active and interested member ot the club. If one could be a more positive and decided Whig than Mr. Cobb it was Mr. Mudge, who, from the time the party took its name till it went to ruins, was an intelligent advocate of its principles, and an unwavering defender of its policy. Like most of his associates, he had received nothing more than a common school education: but his natural aptness and intelligence gained for him, when quite young, a position as clerk. As a salesman he had few equals. At an early age he established himself in trade, and for several years prior to the time to which this record relates he had been at the head of a firm doing an extensive business. As a debater Mr. Mudge was a fluent, graceful speaker, and quick at repartee. He was fond of a good-humored joke, and a discussion was never tame in which he bore a prominent part. He had one of the first requisites of a debater - he always observed the courtesies of the occasion, and no amount of warlike demonstration on the part of an opponent would ruffle his temper. He always took a lively interest in politics, and especially in those political questions having a bearing upon trade; and whenever one of these topics came before the club his friends knew where to find him. Mr. Mudge is still a smart, active man. He was born in Lynn in 1811. There were a few members of the club who were too independent to harness themselves to any party. Mr. Perry Newhall was one of these. His antecedents were Democratic, but he had learned, even at that early day, that the high-sounding claims set forth in party platforms were to be taken with a grain of allowance. He was regarded as one of the original characters of the club. His chief characteristic was a contempt for all pretense and spread-eagle show. When there was a good chance for him to use his peculiar talent in exposing sophistry or shallowness, he made, what the frequenters of the bowling alley call a "ten strike." Mr. Newhall was hardly a graceful speaker. He had some original gestures not recognized in any manual of elocution; but they were very effective, and seemed to give momentum to the battering ram with which he assailed the bulwark of some old abuse, whose existence had been perpetuated by the avarice or ignorance of mankind. No matter how strongly these hoary abuses were intrenched behind venerable precedents, or how massive the pillars that propped up any ancient rascality, the defenders or apologists of any form of oppression or injustice were sure to feel the weight of his battle-ax; and when he laid it down there were ruins lying round. Mr. Newhall is still living. He was born in Lynn in 1813. Mr. Darius Barry was not the least known of the members of the club. Just the opposite of this was true. At this time he was rather a Democrat than a Whig, though rather an Independent than either. He would not deny that he was a reformer if he could be allowed to define the term. He was not an abolitionist. He did not allude to the slaves of the South, or to the blacks of the North as his "colored brethren." On the contrary, when he had occasion to use the word negro, he used it, as a good many others do, as though it was spelled with two g's. Like most of his associates in the club, he had small opportunities of education, and in common with most of them, he had not been made dizzy by being dandled in the lap of fortune. But nature had done more for him than schools could do. He was an insatiate reader, and had a memory that gave him a grip that never let go its hold. Though his attainments at that time were but slight compared with the much wider results of later years, he had then ranged a large field of inquiry, including history, biography, travel and poetry. With most of the leading English poets he had an intimate acquaintance, and could repeat furlongs of their best lines. Though having little artistic knowledge of language, he had a command of the resources of his mother tongue that few possess; and though it is more than likely that he never wrestled with the subtleties of Brown's 26th rule of syntax, his intimate contact with the masters of English speech gave to his language that general correctness that always comes from such companionship. As a speaker, he was not graceful in his gestures, but his ready command of vigorous Saxon, and the force of his argument, gained at once the attention of the audience. It is needless to say that these qualities made him a formidable opponent in debate. Like his fellow-member, Mr. Newhall, with whom he had several points in common, he had no special reverence for antiquity; and it might be added, in parenthesis, that there are some things in modern times that would not lead him to stand a great while bare-headed on a cold day. He was as ready as the man quoted by Sidney Smith to speak disrespectfully of the North Pole, or the Equator. He had a broad humor, which improved with age. He was equally ready to take a joke as to perpetrate one, and when a debate arose that called out his peculiar powers, there was sure to be, as the boys expressed it, "a good deal of music". Mr. Barry was born in Haverhill in 1812. In 1830 he removed to Charlestown, to work at the morocco business, and remained there two years. In 1832 he came to Lynn, and worked as an apprentice with Capt. Edward Carroll. He is still living , and as ready as ever for an intellectual tournament. Addison Davis was another prominent member of the club. He had received a good education, and was by profession a teacher. He was a sturdy abolitionist, and had even then begun to do some service in the anti-slavery field as a lecturer. He was, perhaps, next to Mr. Hussey, the most fluent speaker in the club; and his portly figure, and energetic delivery, gave him a rank among the foremost of this renowned society. Mr. Davis, like many of his associates, had a keen eye for the ludicrous side of things, and could tell a witty anecdote by way of retort upon an opponent, that would vary the gravity of the discussion with a roar of laughter. There were several prominent members in what might be called the reform ranks of the club. Among these, William Bassett held a conspicuous place. Though not a collegiate, Mr. Bassett was one of the best educated members of the society. He had a logical mind, and pursued a line of investigation with a directness that comes only from intellectual training. He was especially interested in the anti-slavery movement, and also the diet reform, which at that time, as already mentioned, was attracting considerable attention here, as in other parts of New England. He occasionally lectured upon these topics, and his treatment of any subject he attempted to handle, together with his talents as a speaker, insured him an appreciative audience. He was an excellent reader. As a debater, he spoke clearly and to the point, and his presence always added dignity and interest to the discussions. Dr. E. A. Kittredge will be remembered by all who ever knew him for his eccentricities, not less than his talents. He was an active member of the club, and was generally present at its meetings; and when there he was about as sure to speak as to be present, and when he spoke, he was as sure to raise a laugh as he was to open his mouth. He had a peculiar voice, which he dropped into mumbling so as to be unintelligible whenever anything of doubtful import was to be said; but his varied and multifarious gesticulations made a pantomimic representation quite as intelligible as speech, and a good deal more amusing. One of his speeches was a sort of torchlight procession - now a good deal of blazing-up, then a flickering, then an occasional going-out, then again a re-lighting, and generally attended with a cloud of smoke. When he was on the floor his hearers were on tip-toe to know what was coming next. He was an ardent anti-slavery man, and took kindly to most of the reforms of the day. At this time he gave in his adhesion to the "Graham" theory of diet, and soon after was a zealous advocate of Priesznitz's cold water cure. He was popular as a physician, and had met with marked success. He was a racy writer, and a frequent contributor to the newspapers of Lynn, and vicinity. His signature, "Noggs," was as well known as the long hair he wore; and next to the entertainment of one of his speeches was that of reading one of his inimitable pen and ink sketches. Our well-known fellow-citizen, James N. Buffum, hardly needs a mention here to give him a greater prominence either now or hereafter; as his record is too fully made up to need a recognition of his talents in these pages. His biography has already been written by an appreciative literary friend, a work that will give him a more conspicuous niche in the long line claiming the attention of posterity than anything that can modestly be hoped for from this brief reference to his name and talents. But as one of the leading spirits of this club he was altogether too important a factor to be passed by unnoticed, as we call the roll of its honored members. Mr. Buffum was born in North Berwick, Maine, in 1807. He got a little schooling in the winter months during his boyhood, and at the age of sixteen came to Salem to learn the carpenter's trade. During the next four years he worked part of the time in Salem and part in Lynn. When twenty years of age, not satisfied with his meager school attainments, he left Lynn for Providence to attend the Friends' School in that city, where he remained for a single year only. This was the sum of his school instruction. He returned to Salem, and worked three years in the organ factory of the Messrs. Hook, to pay for this year's opportunity to master the elements of an English education. He shortly after came to Lynn, and was soon known as an energetic house-builder, never afraid to work, and never frightened by any difficulty that stood in his way. He got up early in the morning, and kept his eyes open all day. If anybody got ahead of him in matters of business it was not noised much about town, but it doubtless would have been if such a circumstance had leaked out. During the next ten years he probably built more houses, and structures of different kinds, in Lynn than any other man in the place, and in the meantime interested himself in more matters, public and private, than often engage the attention of a single individual. He was active in all the reform movements of the day, anti-slavery, temperance, peace, and whatever other work that had for its object the good of mankind. But it is with Mr. Butlum as a member of the club that these pages have chiefly to do. He was always present whenever his engagements made it possible, and when there was often known to speak. Mr. Buffum was not distinguished for his reticence. He was often known to speak when called upon, and sometimes when he was not. He always carried his gun loaded, and was ready for any kind of game, and did not always wait for it to light. No man knew better than he the difference between a "hawk and a hand-saw," though he did not always distinguish between a decoy duck and a real one. As a debater, he rarely armed himself with special preparation, but his large knowledge of men and things, his quickness of apprehension that enabled him to seize hold of everything that could be worked up to his purpose, encased him in an armor that was well nigh invulnerable; and the faintest bugle note that sounded the gathering of hostile forces caught his ear, and found him ready for the fray. As already stated, he was the leader - if anybody was the leader - of the antislavery forces in the club. - From youth he had an instinctive hatred of slavery, and his intimate acquaintance and companionship with the great leaders of the anti-slavery movement, William Lloyd Garrison, Wendell Phillips, and others of less note, together with his knowledge of the general literature of the subject, furnished him a complete equipment to meet the arguments of his opponents, while his store of anecdotes and ready wit he used as a sort of light arms to harass and rout the sophist and the apologist for the "peculiar institution." In this respect he had much of the talent for which the late President Lincoln was so famous. Sometimes a member would attempt a long-drawn and fine-spun argument based upon some hair-splitting distinction, or some subtile theory, too ethereal for this every-day world. It was then amusing to hear Mr. Buffum tell a story, or let off an epigram, that would bury the theory under the weight of its own absurdity, and swamp the theorist with a roar of laughter. Besides a large fund of anecdotes he had a stock of good humor, which often gave him an advantage over his opponents; and if he occasionally "got his bristle off" at some personal thrust or innuendo, it was only for a moment, for he was too large a man to harbor petty resentments. Jesse Hutchinson, once so well-known in Lynn, was also a member of this club. Jesse's great forte (he was usually called Jesse) was music, and he especially excelled as a vocalist. Critics said that he had the grandest voice of all that musical family. A little earlier than this time he led the singing at the First Universalist Church on Union street, soon after that structure was built. Hiram West was there with his clarionet, Amos Fisher with his post-horn,. Thomas Swan with his double bass-viol, Edwin Oliver with his violoncello, and two or three others with their flutes and violins. This was before organs were used in the churches in Lynn, Sometimes, to swell the chorus, one or two of the famous "Hutchinson band" - Judson, John and Asa, and their sister Abbie - would be present. Then Jesse would sway his baton right and left, and then was heard such music as was probably never heard before in a New England meeting-house, and which would have horrified the Roundheads of the time of Cromwell, and scarcely less alarmed their Puritan descendants of a much later day. On a summer evening the magnificent voice of Jesse might be heard coming from the famous "Old High Rock," near which he built his cottage, and the strains of a stirring lyric from some bard of liberty, or some grand old song that has been sung through the ages, cheering the heart of saint and martyr, would break the stillness of the evening air with its entrancing melody. But this is a digression, though it is just such a digression as most of the middle-aged and elderly readers of these pages would be willing the writer should run into as often as he chooses. The man has not made his appearance who could describe Jesse as a debater. He was spasmodic, volcanic, erratic, and occasionally prophetic, by turns. His nervous temperament gave him a sensitive organization that was "tremblingly alive" to every influence with which he came in contact. He entered the anti-slavery movement with his whole soul, and when a discussion arose on this question he was ready to uncord the vials of his wrath upon all who supported or apologized for the vile institution. His clear tenor voice was often heard in the old vestry, its high notes now ringing a sonorous invective against the oppressor of the poor and weak, and now melting into pathos as he pictured the sufferings of some starving fugitive from the prison-house of slavery, as by night the north star led him to the gates of freedom, or as by day
"In the dark top of Southern pines.
"I tell you, Mr. President, this must come to an end. Just as sure as God reigns, this unrighteous system will be swept away. Brothers, the morning light is breaking, the day is at hand. Let us work for it, and hasten its coming." And so he went on, warning, exhorting, and prophesying like some ancient seer or Hebrew prophet. But Jesse had other talents besides the gift of song, and the power of eloquence. He had the poet's tongue of fire, and sung his own stirring lyrics with a skill that called out a storm of applause from delighted audiences. James P. Boyce, one of the founders of the club, and one of its most interested members, deserves recognition here as a sturdy reformer of the plain-spoken Quaker school. He was born in Lynn in 1805, and received the ordinary education given to boys at that time. Like most men born in New England early in the century, his health was not undermined by luxurious living, and in some conversation with him relating to this subject the writer inferred that he was not often confused by the number of courses set before him for breakfast. On the contrary, the simplicity of the Indian "Johnny-cake" left him free to run out, if he so chose, any mathematical problem that might engage his attention. As a debater, Mr. Boyce always spoke clearly and to the point; sometimes bluntly, always honestly, without ornament or ostentation. In matters involving moral principles, he was never a believer in what is called expediency, but believed in going straight to the mark without subterfuge or circumlocution. He had a keen sense of the ludicrous, and it was not often necessary for him to call the next day upon the perpetrator of a joke to get his meaning. Benjamin F. Mudge was an active member of this club. Mr. Mudge was born in Orrington, Maine, in 1817. His parents moved to Lynn during the following year, and, as a matter of convenience, took their son with them. He here received a common school education, and at the age of fourteen learned the shoemaker's trade, at which he worked four years. He then worked in the shoe manufactory of Joseph M. Nye two years, as a cutter. In 1837 he again attended school for a short time, and then fitted for college, graduating in 1840. He then studied law for two years in the office of J. C. Stickney; was admitted to the bar, and began the practice of law just about the time to which this record relates. Mr. Mudge was an easy, pleasing speaker, though having a somewhat peculiar intonation of voice. He was always gentlemanly and courteous in his bearing, and spoke sensibly and to the point - Mr. Mudge took a special interest in scientific pursuits, particularly geology, and was at this time, and in following years, a member of other societies that had a more scientific basis than was claimed for the old Silsbee Street Club. He was elected second Mayor of Lynn in 1852, following Mr. Hood in that office. It is proper to mention here that four members of the club have sat in the Mayor's chair - Messrs. Hood, Mudge, Baker and Buffum - and others it is presumed were willing to sit there, as they gave their fellow-citizens an opportunity to vote for them, which many did, but not enough. William A. Clough was a member with decided Democratic proclivities. This is hardly putting the case strong enough. He had more than tendencies toward the views held by the Democratic party; but was rather emphatic in his avowal and defense of his political faith. His surroundings were as decidedly Whig; but he never failed to maintain his side against whatever odds, whether that odds was expressed in superiority of numbers or in weight of influence. Mr. Clough was not so often heard in the debates as many others; but whenever he did speak there was a directness and point to what he said that commanded attention. His forte was in less public discussions, in store, or work-shop, or perhaps in the old Town Hall, among a knot qf equally ardent politicians, when some important question, local or national, was agitating the public mind. He was then, as the phrase was, "enough" for two or three Whigs. There were other young members of the club who bore a prominent part in these discussions. Some of these removed from town soon after the disorganization of the society, and others died in early life. In preceding pages the writer has alluded to the range that discussion took; but mention has been made chiefly to grave questions of State policy, or of reform movements having a national significance. Besides these grave questions there were numerous minor topics, or "isms," each of which had its adherents and supporters. "Grahamism" was one of these. This was a movement in the interest of dietetic reform. Its leader in this country was Dr. Sylvester Graham - hence the name given to his system, and to its advocates. The principle tenet of his system was abstinence from animal food, and the substitution of bread made from unbolted wheat in place of the common kind made from superfine flour. It was argued that from flesh eating and the use of bread made from fine flour arose well-nigh all the evils that "flesh is heir to," to use a quotation that some readers may have met with before. From the general propositions laid down by this diet reformer came forth various vagaries. Some advocated an exclusively fruit diet. Others an exclusively vegetable diet. Some thought cold baked potatoes about the right article, varied, perhaps, by something else equally cold and indigestible; and cold water was generally recommended in place of tea and coffee. "Col. Sellers" had not then given to turnips their high repute as an article of diet; but respecting the "cold water," these reformers anticipated Col. Sellers by more than thirty years. A debate on the diet question in the Silsbee Street Club was well worth attending. Here were members with extreme views on this, as well as on all other questions; and here were some who held on to their old opinions with a grip that nothing but an ingrained conservatism can give.
The question before the club was - "Has a person a right to partake of animal food?" This was amended by adding the words "under ordinary circumstances." The President has stated the question, and the discussion proceeds. "Mr. President - I shall speak on the negative of this question. If folks only knew half as much as I do about this matter, they'd know better than to cram themselves with all sorts of stuff-roast turkey, (those that can afford to get it, I can't,) lamb, beef, roast pork, (there's stuff for a man to eat,) mince pies, doughnuts, (I do n't wonder people are sick,) sausages, hot bread, (I suppose some of you eat sausages and saleratus bread,) baked beans, (they generally eat them Sundays,) and all sorts of miserable trash that's no more fit to eat than - well, I can't do justice to this subject. Then there's coffee; do you suppose that's fit to drink ? You ought to see how doctors live; you'd learn something from them. There's brother Cobb; I suppose he does n't believe what I'm talking about." "I call the gentleman to order. I believe it's not parliamentary to call gentlemen by name." "I beg pardon, Mr. President, I did n't mean to be unparliamentary, but you know I have to talk in my own way. If brother Cobb only knew -" "I call-" "Do n't fret, brother, I'm almost through. Let's see, where was I ? I 've lost the thread of my speech; but it's no consequence, so I'll sit down before I make a fool of myself. There's brother Buffum, he wants to speak." Another member rises. "Mr. President - The gentleman speaks about roast turkey and pork and lamb hurting folks. I guess they're hurt more for want of 'em. I eat turkey and pork, and mince pies, and I never got hurt by 'em. I was brought up in the woods, in the back woods, where they eat bears' grease. The gentleman says he does n't wonder people are sick. Does he suppose they would n't be sick if they were to live on Graham bread and boiled carrots? How came Graham to know so much more than other folks? I've ate meat all my life, and I expect to for a good while to come. So far as I know, people always ate meat. The gentleman talks about posterity. What does posterity know about this question? I'd like to hear some better reason for eating bran bread than any I've heard yet." "Mr. President" -" Mr. President." "The voice of Mr. - struck my ear first," responds the President. "Mr. President- It will be admitted by every one that understands the merits of this question that the evils of over-eating are among the most serious that afflict mankind. What is the great temptation to over-eating? It is luxurious living. Simple diet would be a cure for all this. Instead of a half-dozen dishes in which acids, fats, and alkalies mix and mingle, laying the foundations of a thousand diseases that come from indigestion, we should have a few plain articles of food that would not tempt the appetite to excess. High-seasoned dishes and dainty food tickle the palate, and so lead to gormandizing, and all the evils that follow in its train. There are, besides, other evils that grow out of this false system of living. It entails a needless expense and makes slaves of women who perform the worse than useless labor of elaborately prepared dishes. Will anybody pretend that all this is necessary for the health and comfort of mankind? There are many notable instances on record of men who have abstained from animal food, and confined themselves to a vegetable or farinaceous diet, and who attained a great age, and maintained a high degree of health. But we have not only individual examples, there are whole nations who rarely, or never, eat animal food. The millions of India subsist almost entirely on rice. The Arabs, fine specimens of men physically, live largely on dates and figs, and rarely taste of the flesh of animals. Mr. President, I have tested this matter in my own experience. No one liked better than I a good turkey dinner; but I have realized the benefits of a simple diet. I sometimes make a breakfast of cold baked potatoes, or some single article of plain food, and nothing else. When the advantages of this simple way of living are better understood, we shall see people abandon the old, injurious and expensive habits that have so long prevailed. But I will give way for others." Two or three members by this time are on their feet, when the President announces that Mr. - has the floor. "Mr. President - I want to say a few words on this subject. Every once in a while some ism or ology will come along, and these reformers, as they call themselves, will get hold of it and suppose they are going to turn the world inside out. There is this Grahamism we hear so much about lately. I suppose Graham thinks if he can get people to eat bran bread and carrots that everything will be fixed all right. Let us look at this thing, Mr. President, in the light of common sense. Did you ever know a nation that amounted to anything that ever lived on any such miserable fodder? It may do for a horse or a donkey; a donkey, you know, 'll eat thistles. The gentleman tells about the rice-eating millions of India. Well, that's a good illustration. What does the whole set of 'em amount to? India shows marks of an ancient civilization, ruins of temples, and vast works of art; but they did n't live on rice then, I'll warrant you. They had something to eat. Do you suppose the men that planned and built the pyramids lived on rice or baked potatoes? I guess not. Or the old Greeks of the time of Homer? Or the old Romans ? Just imagine, Mr. President, a Roman army fed on Graham gingerbread. Then there's the old Saxon race from which we sprang; they ate everything they could lay their hands on, and drank, too, for that matter. This talk about the millions that live on rice is all 'bosh.' Why, a regiment of beef-eating English soldiers would scare an army of 'em. England has already got half their territory away from them, and she'll steal the other half before long. But, Mr. President, what authority is there for this Graham theory ? You can't find any. Does Galen, or Hippocrates, or Dr. Rush, or Bichat, or Abernethy, or Carpenter, or anybody else, ancient or modern, who is acknowledged as authority, support this theory? Of course not. This Graham ought to have a monument of brown bread crust. I'd like to say something on this subject if I had time." Among the members of the Silsbee Street Debating Club, the name of George W. Keene is too conspicuous to be omitted, though he did not take so prominent a part in the discussions as some others. Mr. Keene was hardly aggressive enough, or, as the phrenologists would express it, had hardly "combativeness" enough to qualify him for a firstclass debater; but he was an easy speaker, courteous in his manner, and had a prepossessing personal appearance. He was often called upon to preside at Lyceums, and other public occasions, which he always did with dignity and general acceptance. Occasionally the meetings of the club would be graced with the presence of visitors somewhat distinguished even then, and who afterwards acquired a wide celebrity. Frederick Douglass, Charles Lennox Remond, Parker Pillsbury, Henry Clapp, Henry G. Wright- an English gentleman - and other persons of note and influence. Mr. Douglass lived in Lynn about this time. He was not then the polished orator that he has since become, but even at that early day he gave promise of the grand part he was to play in the conflict which was to end in the destruction of the system that had so long cursed his race. He was more than six feet in height, and his majestic form, as he rose to speak, straight as an arrow, muscular, yet lithe and graceful, his flashing eye, and more than all, his voice, that rivaled Webster's in its richness, and in the depth and sonorousness of its cadences, made up such an ideal of an orator as the listeners never forgot. And they never forgot his burning words, his pathos, nor the rich play of his humor. He had just escaped from the "house of bondage;" and as he recited his experience as a slave, his sufferings as he grew old enough to realize the bitterness of his lot, his alternate hope and despair as he attempted to lift the vail of the future - his eyes would now flash with defiance, and now grow dim with emotions he could not control; and the roll of his splendid voice, as he hurled his denunciations against the infamous system, would pass to the minor key whose notes trembled on his tongue. Then with inimitable mimicry he would give a droll recital of some ludicrous scene in his experience as a slave, or with bitter sarcasm he would tell a tale of insult offered by some upstart who fancied he held his title to manhood by the whiteness of his skin; and then again with flashing eye, he would hurl his indignant denunciation at "wickedness in high places," against men who, under the pretended sanction of religion, defended the "infernal institution" whose horrors had filled his days with dread, and his night dreams with terror. An incident, which the writer heard him relate in his peculiar manner, half amusing, and half indignant at the outrage he had suffered, occurred about this time. Its recital will sound strangely some years hence. These were the days when "negro cars" were on our railroads. Mr. Douglass, and his friend, James N. Buffum, having purchased their tickets, entered one of the cars, not taking special pains to get into the negro car. It was on the Eastern Railroad, and they were bound for Newburyport. The conductor came along, and spying Mr. Douglass, asked him what he was in that car for. Mr. Douglass replied in substance that he wanted to go to a certain place, and thought that the most direct way. The conductor ordered Mr. Douglass to leave. Mr. Douglass assured the conductor that he was satisfied with his seat, and excused himself from accepting the invitation. The conductor called to his aid two or three brakemen, who proceeded to make a demonstration that looked as though Mr. Douglass was to be taken from the car without gaining the consent of his will, or the aid of his limbs. It was amusing to hear Mr. Douglass relate this part of the scene. "When they took hold of me," said Mr. Douglass, with a broad grin, "I felt my hands instinctively clutch the arms of the seat where I sat, and I seemed to be very firmly attached to the place." But two or three stout brakemen were too much for young Douglass, though he had the grip of a giant; or rather, they were too strong to deal with the kind of car furniture then in use. Douglass left the car, and left behind him an empty space in one end of it where seats had been. This was before nitro-glycerine was known; otherwise, one might have supposed that a small can of that article had exploded in that end of the car. This was near the middle of the nineteenth century. Henry Clapp sometimes spoke in the club. Besides being one of the most pungent and racy writers of the day, he had speaking talent of a high order. Few extemporaneous speakers could put a sentence together so compactly as he. He was aggressive and denunciatory in his style, and his vocabulary of invective was Shakesperean in its range. There were others hardly less deserving of mention, notice of whom, at this time, would carry me beyond the limits assigned to this volume.
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