"All the children took art classes on Saturday mornings . . ."

". . . at the Cincinnati Art Museum with a Mrs. Alexander. Helen got the most out of the classes."--Abigail Halsey Van Allen

"Blessed are those who give for they shall receive."

Ode on the Death of President Roosevelt

1932 | Letter to Jesse Halsey regarding rights to Teddy Roosevelt poem

"Way For Nation Shown: Rev. Dr. Jesse Halsey Calls For Good Samaritan in Foreign Policy"

Cincinnati Enquirer | 1932

Jesse Halsey on Billy at 12 | c1932

Billy just came in. Billy is twelve. He was outfitted in a new scout uniform and a yellow handkerchief was neatly folded round his neck. He is new at scouting.

Twelve years old. It sets me thinking. My Bill is twelve too. Only he is not here. Where?  I don’t know. That is the trouble. I don’t know where. But somewhere I do know. People like Billy—my Billy—don’t’ just go away into nowhere. Not if life means anything. Not if there is a God; not unless we are all crazy. Maybe we are, but I don’t think so.

He came and stayed eight years. He was a real boy. Interested in everything and full of questions, some of which he had answered before he went away. More of which whe knows about by this time.

I watch the other boys about twelve years old and it sets me thinking. Asking questions dozens of them that I can’t answer. “My Father knows,” said Bill, one time to his teacher. And I say that too, jut that and leave it so—“My Father knows.”

But I say, “Why?” as Billy did. No answer comes to my most pointed Why. But none came to That Other Quester who said, as I say violently at times, “My God, Why?” No answer came to Him, and he said “Father.” And said it to the end. I’ll try and say it, too.

But Billy. I saw him last, his head swathed in a surgeon’s bandage. Not the ones that they did when they operated on his crushed skull. For after all was over and the mortician had done his best in a bandage, there came to our house two young surgeons, they had helped their chief in that double operation, as I looked on so helpless. One of them stayed all night and all the day till Billy went. He knew as I half guessed that Billy must go.

Three pairs of hands that worked as one. Few words, but nods, a flash of eyes, a gesture, on they worked, for hours—centuries it seemed to me.

So here he rested in his coffin, they came, those boys and put a real surgeon’s bandage on, neat and tight and trim and white. The last I think I saw was that and if I am conscious when I die I think I’ll see it then. It burned its white upon my memory.

I’m not morbid—often. The gay smile of that lad. His thoughtfulness, his joy in living and his love have stayed, and will. He’ll not come back. I know it now, though still I look odd times when other boys come trooping in.

There will be at confirmation this Eastertide some twelve year olds. Bill would have been with them. He loved the church. His father, I, a preacher and Sunday mornings early we came over together. He to open doors and windows and later to distribute bulletins and things. More than once when he was little, he slipped into the pulpit chair and sat down, before or during service. He loved the church.

When confirmation comes at Easter, I hope I’ll think of him as There, not here for if I do I may break down (only for a moment), but that’s not fair to faith, nor to the other boys who stand before me in the chancel.

"Misery is Prolonged by American Handling of Debt, Rev. Mr. Halsey Says"

Cincinnati Enquirer, December 1933

 “It was said that the church didn’t keep us out of war; in the same breath the church is told to keep out of economic and political affairs. When these become essentially moral, then religion must speak, or be untrue to itself and to God.”

The Jesse Halsey Manuscript Collection. Special Collections, Princeton Theological Seminary Library.

A Living Hope

1932

"Seek Hundred 'Hungriest Children'" and "Foreign Mission Report Will Be Explained"

1932

"The minister dreamed that his eight-year-old Billy, who had died two years before, was hungry—hungry in the midst of plenty; and that on Thanksgiving day! The minister’s childhood was spent in New England where Thanksgiving was celebrated like our Christmas. Billy’s few Christmases had been spent in a time and in a part of the country where Christmas is Christmas. So, the next day our minister determined that Billy should have his Christmas celebration by proxy. He has that curious sort of Celtic (or is it Christian?) faith that convinces him that those who have “gone on” know what goes on here."

"Let Us Give Thanks!"

November 1932 | Cincinnati Enquirer

34 Post Crossing

c1932

"Apologia"

Jesse Halsey

Cincinnati c1932

Twenty years very soon in one pastorate, my only charge. Seeking to determine a modus operandi for the next decade. In spite of the action of most churches as they choose young ministers, believing that the next decade should be the most useful of life—I am just fifty—I have tried to put down in black and white just where my major interests lie.

Some of them, unconsciously likely, are indicated by the boards and committees on which one serves. First, not foremost, I am an erstwhile Rotarian (and I, on occasion, read Mencken and his ilk, often jealous I fear they are so smart). It was discipline; to sit between two strangers, a Jew and a Catholic, and with a sign “Clergyman-Protestant” plastered over one’s front, to overcome the prejudice and make a meal time conversation of mutual interests. Good discipline I say and with “Billy” Phelps my membership in the church and in the Rotary while surprising to my friends, never elicits my excuses.

The Maternal Health Centre met yesterday. I should have been there—and wasn’t, an emergency hospital call kept me away. A part of the maternal health work is a birth control clinic. What possible interest has a protestant minister in this? Partly, I confess, my initial interest came from a violent attack on the clinic by the Catholic Archbishop. I agreed with him—but not for long. With contraceptive information in the hands of our upper groups are we to be swamped by the numbers of illiterates, morons and the less favored? Lincoln came from the lower stratum? Maybe. The [Rev. John] Wesley from a huge family? I know it. But common sense seems to indicate that science should aid nature. That man better help himself. So far as ethics is concerned—Christian Ethics—morality, peace of mind, harmony, domestic felicity—would all be conserved if contraceptive information of the most approved methods were put in the hands of every woman at the time of her marriage.

Preface to: A Living Hope

Suggestions for Funeral Services 

(Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1932)

By Jesse Halsey
 

In Loving Memory of 

Wilmun H. Halsey

1920-1928

“The Little Levite”

O give me Samuel’s mind

A sweet unmurmuring faith,

Obedient and resigned

To Thee in life and death,

That I may read with childlike eyes

Truths that are hidden from the wise.

--James D. Burns, Evening Hymns

The ministry of consolation makes large demands upon one’s reserves. Collected from many sources, these pages are offered by way of suggestion and guidance in the enrichment of the ministry.

Brevity without haste is to be desired; dignity without coldness; sympathy without sentimentalism. A Christian hope and faith should pervade all.

It is hoped that this material will be amplified by the brotherhood. The publisher or the compiler will be glad to receive contributions of helpful selections for use in future editions.

The funeral address is being less often used. The prose selections and the poems are offered in hope that they may supply the personal tough that was present, though often overdone, in the old type of funeral “sermon.”

[A decided trend in non-liturgical circles [is] to make the funeral service more simple and more stately, and in liturgical circles to add warmth.

The purpose of this book is to furnish material suitable for all occasions and in line with the present tendency. The funeral sermon or address is disappearing; some bit of appropriate prose from a worthy source, or some lovely poem may well take its place. A short but telling reference to the life and character of the departed is appreciated, whereas a long extempore eulogy is often out of place and offensive.]

The form is loose leaf, so that arrangement of the material selected for use on a given occasion may be assembled in consecutive order, thus avoiding fumbling of pages.

Many blank pages are left in each section. Obviously, as many as are desired can be added by the owner. Room is left in the General Index for growth of the book in the owner’s hands. Its usefulness will depend on the extent to which it is rearranged and added to by the user. There is no completely arranged service in the book, but there is material for many of the emergencies that a pastor is called upon to meet.

[Three of the services as used by the editor are available in print and may be given to the bereaved family with such additions as the minister may make.]

Mrs. McGinty

By Jesse Halsey c1932

Mrs. McGinty keeps a little candy and notion shop on a back street near the school. Her trade is not entirely confined to children for she also sells homemade crullers (or doughnuts, as she calls them) of her own manufacture. My friend, Hopkins, stopped in the other day. He waited while some children were served. Then Mrs. McGinty brought his package. “I believe the depression do be over,” she greeted him.

“How’s that?” inquired Hopkins. “Is your trade picking up?”

“Ah, no, nothin’ astonishin,’ but the children do be buyin’ ten-cent kites. Last year it was five cents they would be payin.’”

Hopkins told me this the other day, and since then I have been counting the kites. There were twenty yesterday, flying off the Grandin Road viaduct*, ten or a dozen from the Airport, and groups of three to six here and there along Eastern Avenue. Most of them looked like the store-bought variety, only here and there was one that was homemade (or boy-made).

In Eden Park last Saturday, I watched an old grandfather trying to adjust the “bellyband” and tail while an eight-year-old tyrant held the string and gave orders. They were having a strenuous time. Somehow it brought to mind a kite that stood seven feet tall, made by an old Indian who lived on the back street of our village, when I was a boy. In a strong wind even he couldn’t hold it and tied it to the rail-fence with his wife’s clothesline (and as many as he could borrow from the neighbors). It was from him I learned the art (or knack) of making a kite that would fly. The fancy designs were pictured and described in “The American Boy’s Handy Book,” but old Asarriah knew how to make them fly. My creations were always lifeless until he took a hand. “It all depends on the bellyband,” and he rolled the word deliciously. Outside of reading Holy Scripture that inelegant morsel was never allowed in the vocabulary of our Puritan household. Other boys could have that kind of an ache, but regardless of green apples, we were never allowed to describe it in those [exact?] terms. I used to think it might be partial compensation to just say it right out loud—“bellyache.” And on one occasion I did. My aunt and sisters were chagrined beyond measure and I got a switching afterwards, but it was worth it just to say what you felt and to have had the applause of one sympathetic listener in the person of the great Mrs. Beers, who lived in the summer colony and came to our house for milk. Her husband was the president of the mail order house, “Beers, Doebuck & Company,” and she had given me their catalogue—nearly as big as our Bible and much more interesting to my six-year-old intelligence.

She always laughed at my antics and when, one night I was rolling on the floor before the fireplace, she asked me what was the matter, it just slipped out. “Why, Mrs. Beers, I got the bellyache.” How she laughed; and how I smarted afterwards! I still maintain it was worth it.

But I was talking about the anatomy of a kite and not my own. It is a delicate art to make a kite that will hang in perfect balance and, as old Asorriah said, it all depends on the placing of the string that the boys used to call the “bellyband.” And, much to my delight, I find that the word is still used to designate the same part in the construction of kites for military and scientific purposes.

Kites come with spring. It is a sure sign, when the boys venture out on windy March days, that spring is not far behind. Marbles and tops have their place, too. But kites are more aspiring, and this year it is kites. Maybe Mrs. McGinty is right and the depression is gone. At any rate, we are glad that the youngsters have a dime to spend, though we wish that they had the impulse and the ability to make their own kites.

They came, I suppose, from China and Japan—birds and bats and dragons—and often covered with silk. Science appropriated them long ago and old Asorriah used to warn us against flying in a thunderstorm, telling us the story of Dr. Franklin. And Asorriah knew all about it. Said that Franklin’s kite frame was made of cedar and covered with silk and that it had a point like a lightening rod on top of it and that the end of the kite string, where Franklin held it, was covered with silk. He knew the date, June 1752, and that Franklin from it charged alyden-jar—whatever that was. Kites could fly, he said, twenty-five hundred feet high. That was half a mile, which was more than all the clotheslines of the neighborhood could measure; at least more than Asorriah could borrow.

With Asorriah in mind, the other day I went to the library and found that some kites had been flown seven and ten thousand feet and that on one occasion, seven were flown in tandem and, with five miles of wire, reached a vertical height of 14,000 feet. That would have been a big story for the old Indian; but here is one even better. Instruments were raised at the Weather Bureau at Mt. Weather, Virginia, in May 1920, to a height of 23,835 feet, when kites and eight and one-half miles of wire were used.

Kites are sometimes used to carry lines across streams or chasms for the construction of bridges, or to convey lifelines to stranded ships. In some sections they are extensively used to hold suspended in midair banners for advertising. Before the days of the airplane they were used for taking military and other aerial photographs.

I went into the Beers, Doebuck store. There were no kites in their catalogues in the old days. Yes, they had kites—several varieties. I balanced one delicately by the bellyband in memory of my old friend, the president’s wife.

Later in the day, I sharpened up my jack knife and whittled out two sticks; and then courage failed. Suppose I finished it and it wouldn’t fly, how my boys would laugh. I hid the sticks, got into the car and went down the hill back of the school to Mrs. McGinty’s shp and bought two ten-cent kites. May her prognostication be right—“the depression do be over.”

* "The GrandinRoad Viaduct, also known as the Grandin Road Bridge or the Delta Avenue Viaduct was built in 1905 and was the highest in the city at 150 feet over Delta Avenue. The viaduct once connected Grandin Road in Hyde Park to Grandin Road in Mt. Lookout. The wood and steel structure underwent many repairs in its lifetime and in 1975, it was torn down due to concerns over the safety and stability of the bridge."

AFTER A “RETREAT”

By Jesse Halsey | c1932

Conference (like Spurgeon’s “committee”) is a collective noun that means many—but not much. Yet conferences innumerable go on, and conference must be had, so it seems.

One bitter night, in North Russia, during the war, I asked a lone sentry what most he dreaded in our isolation, and he said, “I miss bein’ shoulder to shoulder on the march—we never march.” The value of conference is in comradeship; and its perils lie in the implication that plans and programs can take the place of work; we need “to march.”

But what are the marching orders? No one appears to know. At least there seems to be divided council. Here again is the disadvantage of conference. So many questions are asked, so much discussion develop, such differences of opinion, so little unanimity of thought, a dozen different emphases, and in every conference group one or two brethren who have positive opinions on every last subject: (but are not able to convince their confreres.)

Is there wisdom in a multitude of counselors? Walter Lippman seems to doubt it, in the political field, and I agree, as to the religious. But, as I have intimated, conference does mean fellowship, and fellowship means strength for our souls and for our cause. Not programs, but more brotherliness will strengthen the church. Friendliness is a good beginning and in days of mistrust and bickering these ought to be, among ministers, camaraderie and understanding. Somehow or other the world outside rather expects a minister to be a gentleman—and brotherly! To forge a brotherhood, to weld a fellowship, is the first business of a conference.

Discussion is valuable, and interchange of ideas. A great number of questions will be propounded. (Most men who ask questions will at least suggest an answer, so I say “propounded,” not “asked.”) Suppose we list some of the contemporary interrogations. It would run like this: Have you read “Re-thinking Missions?” What about it? (These are among the first.) What about the Oxford movement? (Whether the quester says “Bookman” or “Buckman,” will, subtly, indicate his own feelings.) What do you know about Karl Barth? Is the proper emphasis on worship or on the sermon? What is the best book of the contemporary flood? How do you balance your budget? (“I don’t,” comes the answer.) The ethics of Jesus—do you preach them now? Socialism, communism, bolshevism and not the first queries, but their shadow is thrown over all. And then (toward the end)—prohibition?

Where shall the emphasis be placed? Where are our leaders? The soldiers are ready. What of the march? (Haig latterly, Napoleon formerly, is credited with the opinion that there are no poor soldiers, only poor colonels.) And the colonels are in conference!

One (lieutenant) colonel has come to the following conclusions after many conferences, participated in, listened to, and conducted. And these “findings” are colored by the opinion and feeling of a hundred of his brothers, if he has been able to interpret words—and “feelings.”

First and foremost among the younger clergy there is a desire to follow Christ if they can ascertain His will. They are not strong for theology, many of them, but they take Jesus seriously, as few generations of Christians ever have. Over their ministry I would write the text, “Why call me Lord, Lord and do not the things that I say?”

Many have ceased to look for Leadership or to talk about it. When leaders appear they are not always recognized. They do their work, give their message, and pass on. Then men awake and recognize their quality. Moreover, when a man has the qualities of leadership he seldom knows it. And, surely, he never talks about it. Like the blue-bird, it comes unsought. No Federal Council pronouncement, no denominational-headquarters-ukase, none of the old dynamite will stir us now. It has “frozen” and cannot be detonated. (One of my first jobs as a Labrador missionary, years ago, was to thaw the giant powder over the forge fire, so that it could be exploded.)

From the point of view of a parish minister in a denomination that has no bishop (in name at least); in a Protestantism that has no pope (for better or for worse); I have determined on a few and simple things that, God helping me, shall characterize my ministry from this time forward. (And this slowly formed decision has been molded by many conferences and much fellowship with the brethren.)

I am done with labels. Men of goodwill are everywhere and except for these all abide in the ship we cannot be saved. Time has done some things even with my non-scholar’s mind and I know some of the tricks of the party-labeled protagonists; they “walk in blinders” as Scott (Ernest F.) says.

So Variety is my first word. From anyone who has knowledge I am willing to learn. My brethren will differ with me on all sorts of things, and we will agree to differ. I love them still and hope that they will at least respect me. The pattern is too complicated for any one man to know everything.

Then I must Simplify. Technology will hit the rocks; it carries too much sail. People need a few truths, simply stated, but beautifully clothed in life. For example; whatever elevates human life, dignifies it and makes it meaningful is for me RIGHT. Whatever degrades life is WRONG. This is simple—and inclusive. (Edwin Lewis says it emphatically, and more at length. I acknowledge the debt, but the principle I learned long ago.) For me, quite arbitrarily, if you please, this is the criterion. A philosophy that belittles life is wrong. A science that degrades life is wrong. An ethic that cheapens life is wrong. Art, education, literature, drama (movies included), whatsoever heightens the value of life is right and whatsoever debauches or besmirches life is wrong—arbitrarily or eternally wrong—(just as you please). There I stand.

Another simplification (most difficult to practice) might be characterized as “brotherhood” (there are many synonyms). Charles Kingsley avowed that we ministers use “brethren” because we don’t mean “brothers.” The practice of this virtue would solve most, if not all, of our social problems. “Every problem is a problem in personnel.” Effective conferences of all sorts could be built around this principle. It is called Love in the New Testament, but, as Moffat points out, it has a vigorous ethical, never a romantic, connotation. It works in the family; it works in a church—sometimes. It always works if it is worked. Race, creed, color, all will yield to it. It is our only hope. All the problems of international politics apparently must come back to this simple practice. It is a long road but a sure road. To simplify.

Dr. Lynn Hough has told us, in a variety of ways, that we need more great thinking. Many smart and some great thinkers we have, but great undergirding thought is lacking. (Here is the reason for the welcome to Karl Barth: Will he stand the test?) I read the brilliant epigramist, the caustic critic, the Menken, whoever he may be, in his particular line (and religion has its brilliant exponents, too). They leave me burned out. Some system, some simple but profound principles that will tie thoughts into the bundle of thought—these, I need, and the times need. (The first books I ever bought with my own money were Calvin’s Institutes. Long since they went on the top shelf; I knew too much. They have come down. I need a system. I find, too, that Augustine’s “City of God” has been dusted off. A gesture of desperation? Have your way. And Hocking, rather than Wieman, gets attention in a study hour. I am becoming a sturdy Theist.)

Yes, after a quarter century of tasting and testing there seem to be emerging some Certainties for me. And people are saying to me (and my brother ministers), as Helen Keller said to Phillips Brooks, “Tell us what you KNOW about God.” With Carlisle I determine to consume my own smoke. Such as I have I’ll give. Without apology, in congenial thought forms, I’ll try to convey my conviction that Jesus Christ is Lord. With Pearl Buck I’m sometimes tired of preaching, but as preaching is needed, the living-preaching, I will try and “carry on.” With Dr. Fosdick, sometimes, at least, I will try to “debunk the debunkers.” Cynicism, and agnosticism and atheism are not entirely new. I ought to have known it. This is not the first generation to question. Plato’s teacher taught him to question rather drastically. There is a wisdom not of today: (A lot of it is in the Bible).

Yes, I should have known it. My teachers often said so. For example; one day in preceptorial, when the talk had wandered from politics to philosophy, and an enthusiastic student was expounding the Riddle of the Universe after Haeckel’s formula, Woodrow Wilson turned to another student, who was majoring in philosophy, and said, “Tell us about Democritus.” Materialism is not new; that was the implication—and the truth.

Variety, Simplification, Certitude—these three I now covet, having learned much from my brethren and some things from experience.

"Why I Am a Conservative"

By the Rev. Frederick N. McMillin, D. D.,

Minister, First Presbyterian Church on Walnut Hills, Cincinnati, Ohio

Christianity Today, April, 1932

For almost thirty-four years I have been an
ordained minister of the Presbyterian
Church in two city pastorates. For more
than twenty-one years I have been the
pastor of the First Presbyterian Church
on Walnut Hills in the City of Cincinnati.
Had I been a so-called modernist
or liberal minister I would have gone
from my present pastorate long ago:
During these twenty-one years I have
seen four ministers come and go in a
church in this city which boasts itself of
its so-called liberalism. This is not a
pastorate in such a church, this is a procession.
The pitiful weakness of the
Universalist and the Unitarian Churches
is due to a very large degree to their so-
called liberalism. I have often wondered
why some of the ministers of our Evangelical
churches do not grasp the significance
of this fact. If you desire to read
the record of the sad influence of a so-
called liberalism upon an ecclesiastical
institution read the history of Andover
Theological Seminary.

I am a conservative because it be-
comes increasingly evident that a so-called
liberalism is a sinister menace to
what is best, most precious and most
necessary in the lives of men, in the life
of our beloved country, in the life of our
respective communities and in the life
of the church of Christ. Conservatism
gave way to liberalism in financial
circles and the stock market crashed,
bringing sorrow, loss, despair and hopelessness
to many.

Lane-McCormick Merger

from Christianity Today April 1932

The petition presented to the courts of Ohio for the privilege of merging the work of Lane Theological Seminary with The Presbyterian Theological Seminry, Chicago, has been granted. This petition has been pending subject to the consent of the residuary legatees, two of whom had refused to join with the seminary up to a recent date.

All these having been satisfied and quit claim deeds to all rights and claims to the property of Lane Seminary having been obtained by the institution, the Court granted the petition for the right to effect the merger.

Lane Seminary has had a faculty of four full time professors, Dr. John Vant Stephens, Dr. Frank Granstaff, President R. Ames Montgomery, and Professor John Adam Garber. Dr. Paul E. Davies of the Chicago seminary has been special lecturer in New Testament literature and Dr. George W. Osmun, instructor in Hebrew.

President Montgomery and Professor Garber will continue their work in the Chicago institution which they have already begun in the field of Religious Education and Sociology. Dr. Stephen, who has been professor of History at Lane for twenty-two years and Dr. Granstaff, professor of Homiletics, will retire with pensions provided by Lane.

The decision of the Court in this case is regarded as of great importance, not only as affecting the program of the Presbyterian Church, U.S.A., for the consolidation of educational institutions, but for other organizations contemplating similar action.

The Lane Seminary property will be held for the use of the merged institutions. The present policy of the Trustees of Lane contemplate a regular summer session at Lane for the instruction of ministers and lay church workers.

See also: May 1931 issue

Lane Seminary Abandonment
Blocked by Court

LANE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY,

which has been located in Cincinnati, Ohio,
for more than 100 years, will continue t()
function as a seminary, if an opinion handed
down in Common Pleas Court by Judge
Charles S. Bell on April 21, is not upset by
appeal.

Judge Bell held that as the result of testimony
adduced before him in a hearing, several
months ago, the seminary had not failed'
in its original purpose, and that it had 'not
become extinct, despite contentions to the
contrary. He also ruled that the court had
no jurisdiction to authorize the seminary
trustees to abandon it and endow scholarships
in the Chicago Theological Seminary.

The institution dates back to 1829, when
the Legislature of the State of Ohio created'
the theological institution "for the education'
of pious young men for the gospel ministry ... ·
In December of that year Elnatban Kemper"
James Kemper, Sr., Peter H. Kemper and
David R. Kemper and their wives deeded the'
property to the seminary.

This deed provided that, if the purpose of'
the seminary failed, or if it became extinct,.

the property was to revert to the American
Board Society, the American Tract Company,
the American Colonization Society and the
American Education Society. In the event
that any of these societies) were extinct,
the property then was to revert to any charitable
religious institution selected by the
General Assembly of the Presbyterian
Church.

For many years the seminary flourished,
and men who carried the gospel to the four
corners of the world were its graduates. Of
late years the enrollment has fallen off and
bad times have overtaken the school.
About a year ago the trustees filed a petition
asking for instructions as to what they
were to do. They favored abandonment of
the school and the establishment of scholarships
in the Chicago institution which was
formally known as "McCormick Seminary."
It was claimed on behalf of the American
Colonization Society, that the seminary had
failed in its purpose and that therefore the
property should be turned over to the other
societies mentioned in the deed.
Discussing the matters that were brought
to its attention during the hearing, Judge
Bell wrote: "Since the .establishment of this
institution in 1829, there has been a great
increase in the number of theological institutions
available to students preparing for
the Presbyterian ministry, and there has
been a proportionate decrease in the past
twenty-five or thirty years in the number of
enlistments of young men for such training.
A number of such institutions in the country
have become more efficient for the purposes
for which Lane Seminary was created, and
this has been due largely to the fact that certain
other colleges have received large incomes
and generous gifts, which have been
denied Lane Seminary.

"By reason of curtailed revenue, this institution
has reached a financial status
where there is in the neighborhood of about
$20,000 per annum for its upkeep; and because
thereof the institution has generally
deteriorated until the buildings are out of
repair, the professors are underpaid, and the
student body has decreased greatly. At the
time of the hearing, there were less than 20
in the student body at the seminary. The
future prospects of the institution presents a
dismal picture; the institution probably will
have fewer students and less money than at
the present time.

"Disposing first of the disputed fact in the
case, the court has concluded that Lane
Seminary has not failed or become extinct."
Taking- up the second matter before him,
Judge Bell said: "The trustees propose to
sell the property; create a legal entity to be
known as the Lane Seminary Foundation;
with the funds establish proper endowments,
scholarships and fellowships in the Chicago
Theological Seminary.

"After a careful consideration, the court

has concluded that it has no authority -or
jurisdiction to authorize these trustees to
change the name or abandon the theological
institution in Hamilton County," the opinion
concluded.

Following the receipt of the judgment of
court, it was announced that Lane Seminary
would re·open in the fall as usual.

from "Down North"

Jesse Halsey on the Labrador "Esquimau" | c1932

I started to tell about the country and I wandered to here.

There are esquimau in Labrador. For two hundred years, the Moravian missionaries have lived among them; they are educated and Christian and support themselves from the fur and the fish, and from the fur the missions also derive their support. Strangely, the Moravians never had a full-fledged doctor on their staff. There are immigrant Indians in the interior, but most of the “Liveyeres” are descendents of English, Welsh, and Scotch fishermen who began to come there in the time of Queen Elizabeth and either stayed of choice or were wrecked on the shore. Many of their descendants show traces of Indian and Esquimau in their features and color. (Anyone who goes through a Labrador springtime with its glistering snow-reflected-sunshine will burn an Indian brick red—and some of us, I think have never quire washed it off or reabsorbed it.)

We brought a boy and girl to the States with us when we came home. They went to school on Long Island and came with us to Cincinnati. The girl studied to be a nurse and the last we heard was head nurse at Dartmouth College infirmary. The boy went back home after high school. Their name was Evans. “Heavens” some of their people said. Their father was our chief herder for the reindeer. Alice, the girl, had come to live with us in St. Anthony. One day, Mrs. Halsey had found her reading Browning—intelligently. It seems their great-grandfather had been wrecked in the Straits of Belle Isle sometime in the early nineteenth century. He was a Welchman [sic], own “home” (boat) and had had an education. He stayed on the shore, married and became, ultimately, the patriarch of a community made up largely of his numerous progeny. He had taught his children the things he knew, imported books, and this girl Alice had been more or less his pet in his old age, and he had given her a fine appreciation of English Literature.

This case is an exception, undoubtedly, but I always found in the night school that we conducted in our cottage that a fair number were quick to catch on and that most of the boys (especially the Esquimau halfbreeds) were born mechanics.

There was Wilson Jacques, for instance. Half Indian, I would guess. Will Hillis (a Cincinnati man) gave me the money to bring Wilson to Pratt Institute. It was my job to get him ready to enter. This was that first short summer that I spent on the shore; myself still a student. Well, after fifteen or sixteen hours of hard work plumbing, when Wilson would work with me and out work me, we started in to pole up math for entrance exams to Pratt. He had had common fractions, in one night he mastered decimals and in six weeks had cleaned up advanced arithmetic and advanced algebra and plane geometry and a little trigonometry (I forget which kind) and about that time my own knowledge was getting pretty thin; I was glad when September 20^th came. That winter he was doing Calculus and what-not at Pratt—but without my help. He had ability.

Again, take my friend, Joe Souley. He couldn’t read or write. But he was one of the wisest men I ever knew. He could quote Solomon and Ben Franklin with equal ease. He knew his Bible—and could stump me. He had sailed the seven seas and could describe Singapore or the Sachel Islands with accuracy (I suppose it was accurate because London and the few placed I knew about tallied with his description). I, a swelled-headed sophisticate with some graduate study, etc. learned a very salutary lesson—that wisdom and knowledge are quite different things, that information, and perspective and human interest and a host of other things, are not necessarily acquired in schools; and that illiteracy is not a synonym for ignorance. That was a salutary lesson for a young preacher, at least.

"Historical Association Aftermath"

Southampton Press | Thursday, October 27, 1932 

Written by the Late Mrs. Edward P. White on the Day of Her Death, Tuesday, October 25, 1932

L. Emory Terry, Lizbeth Halsey White, Col. Walter Barnes

With the removal of the signs which for several weeks have given to the village a suggestion of environment, which is her historic right, we engage our minds to reflect upon what this week of history has left to us which will remain and be of permanent value to the future?

The sign committees of the different villages are to be highly commended for interpreting so successfully the historic places along the route of the tour, which our visitors and many of our own residents found so interesting. Each village erected its own signs so that each was quite individual in design.

Southampton was fortunate in having a committee for its signs the enthusiasm of which knew  no bounds. W.D. Van Brunt, chairman, has had long familiarity with activities of this kind, ever since, as village president, he gave careful attention to the placing of signs designating the streets and compiling the Village Book in which among other valuable information we find a list of historic events which have occurred in Southampton from the beginning of her history in 1640 until 1908, when that book was compiled. One of our D.A.R. members has referred to this book as Mr. Van Brunt’s bible,” and the many to whom it has become most useful believe it has been well named.

As well as an historic, the sign had also an artistic value which was much appreciated. The weatherworn shingles provided by Dick Foster and Cortland Smith, shaped and touched by the magic brushes of Eli H. Fordham, were appropriate reminders of those early houses, gray with the ocean salt and damp of two hundred years and more. Abigail F. Halsey and Dr. David H. Hallock also made the contributions to the work. Since the signs are stored away until another historic occasion shall call them forth, it is not out of place remember that of all the committees which contributed so much to make the Historical Conference an outstanding success, none gave greater enthusiasm to the work than those who marked the historical places, of which Southampton had 38.

 

The Water Mill committee also did excellent work for their markings were so legible that they could be read with much more rapid driving than the 25 miles made on the Historic Tour. Would it not be interesting indeed if 1644 could be made permanent on the old watermill—our oldest landmark on Eastern Long Island? When the windmill on the green is restored by the community committee, surely the date of the building—1800—will be placed conspicuously thereon.

Southampton Press, October 6, 1932

In speaking of markers we desire to most appreciatively commend to the attention given by the Village Board to the renewing and replacing of the street signs, several of which were much in need of repair, while a few had disappeared altogether for all of the substantial appropriation made in the village budget for this purpose each year.

For instance, in view of the coming to Southampton of the State Historical Conference this Fall, and the incentive to refurbish our historical housekeeping, it was discovered late in the Summer that very substantial signs declaring the s sites at Old Town of the earliest settlement (1640) and that of the earliest church building (1644) had but lately fallen down.

Old Post House

These had been erected during the early days of the Southampton Village Improvement Association (1885) and so substantially made that they had withstood the element for more than 40 years. In view of the coming of a conference of historically-minded people it was, indeed, a calamity to discover that these very important signs had disappeared and their renewal must wait for next year’s budget.

The village officials, however, were more than equal to the occasion when the matter was brought to their attention and voted the needed funds wherewith to replace these and also others which needed repair. The committee on street signs, Elmer W. Van Brunt, for the village, gave much time and untiring effort to the replacement of the signs and in erecting them. This could not have been done without the assistance of C. Wesley Baily, whose interest and persistent overtime effort saw the painting finished in time for the coming of the visitors on October 6^th.

Especial appreciation is hereby given for the guide post on which “Southampton—founded 1640” may be read by all who pass on the Montauk Highway at either entrance to the village.

The Hollyhocks | built 1662 | home of Thomas Halsey

Since the erection of this most valuable reminder of our historic beginnings, we can but wonder why we have not used it before, for 1640 is the proud inheritance of every one who has a living interest in Southampton.

There are other markers, too, which if rightly placed would help to make Southampton as interesting as the date of her birth. 1640 is an altitude to attain unto and so many of our oldest landmarks have disappeared. We should be eternally grateful to those of our Summer colony who have appreciated many of our old houses enough to restore them, thus preserving to the village these landmarks which speak of her history and mark the contrast between the old and the new, all of which helps to make the village more attractive.

Sign marking site of British Fort during Revolutionary War

We have in times past thought we had no Revolutionary history worthy of preservation, because Long Island was under British supremacy until after the close of the war. We have awakened to realize that the history of Long Island during the Revolution is unique, that to live if one must, under British supremacy was heroic and that he story of the Refugees who fled to the patriot soil of Connecticut is one of the most thrilling of the Revolutionary War. The old Fort cast up by the British on the hill back of the colored church was removed only two years ago to make way for a new street which will open up for settlement many choice building sites in a newer Southampton. The fort is gone, but historic sentiment can still make attractive the site with the placing of a marker to the memory of those who, though their husbands and brothers were away in the lines—they managed to live in peace under very trying circumstances until the return of their protectors; or, we may erect most worthily if we will, a marker in memory of the British General, Wm. Erskine, who declared from the first of his coming that he and his solders had not come to make war on defenseless women and children, and who, during his stay on Eastern Long Island, became so impressed with the justice of the patriot cause that he resigned his commission and returned to England before the war was over.

Herrick House, North Main Street

The William Smith Pelletreau house which stood in North Main Street, where General Erskine made his headquarters during the occupation, has disappeared but the Herrick house, across the street, is standing with its huge fireplace unchanged since the days when General Erskine and his officers had their mess from over its blazing logs.

This house was built in 1760 by David Howell, who went as a refugee to Connecticut, during the Revolution and so far as is known, did not return. It has been well cared for by several generations of the Herrick family. During the historical Conference, Mr. and Mrs. John A. Herrick were good enough to open their home on two occasions and nearly a hundred visitors enjoyed their hospitality—with its many reminders of Revolutionary history.

Let us not wait o long before we erect on the triangle near, a marker to the Revolutionary era in Southampton.

The Charles B. Foster collection at Littleworth is receiving more frequent visits as it becomes better known. Here are preserved the homely implements of the early housekeeping and farms which so many have given to the bonfire. The exhibit contains also a very complete collection of guns, especially of Winchesters and implements of the whale fishery. The collection is an interesting and valuable one and Mr. Foster is most generous in his invitation to open it to any who so desire.

Southampton Press, June 1931

On the impulse given by the coming of the Historical Association, the Southampton Colonial Society has completed two very important project which have for some time been under consideration—the restoration of the stones in the old South End Burying Ground, the fund for which has been met by the accumulated dues of its members, and the completion of the fence marking the boundary of the right-of-way to Conscience Point.

In 1910, the Society incorporated and purchases from Charles Reeves at North Sea the peninsula of upland and meadow known as Conscience Point, and the right-of-way there. The society placed there a boulder in honor of the landing there of the colonists, who in June, 1640, settled Southampton.

With the increase of traffic and building it became necessary to visibly define the boundary line of the right-of-way and a board fence has been completed by placing near the main highway an entrance which is ornamental and appropriate and altogether a great improvement. The entrance is of Colonial design—the drawing for which was the contribution of William I. La Fon, Jr.

First Presbyterian Church of Southampton

The carrying out of the design was done by Builder Lester E. Raynor and the result is both appropriate and attractive, wholly in keeping with its purpose. The committee from the Colonial Society, who have had the matter in charge, President L. Emory Terry, and Mrs. Hugh Halsey, are to be congratulated upon the success of the undertaking. The boundary line is now well defined, the entrance to the Point is dignified and inviting, and speaks of an interest in Southampton's beginnings, which as been given permanent emphasis.

Southampton Press, October 6, 1932

* * *

In as many as half a hundred homes each quarter of the coming year will come the State Association Quarterly—New York History—to those who during the past few months have become members of this Association. In this will be found interesting account of the recent Conference; the papers read and there will be enjoyed even more when read for oneself, and many items of current historical interest appear which are most enlightening. A membership in the Association places New York History in the home of the subscriber and this is more than worth the $3.00 which is the annual membership dues.

First National Bank of Southampton c 1939

Surely there are still those who in attending the meetings have gained a more definite knowledge of the important activities of the New York State Historical Association and would like to give their endorsements.

Lizbeth May Halsey White & Edward Pearson White 
c1929 | 34 Post Crossing

Credentials for membership are an interest in the history of New York State and the signature of one who is already a member. A call the Library and your subscription can be arranged. L.E. Terry at the Southampton Bank or Mrs. Edward P. White, 34 Post Crossing, will be glad to arrange it for you and forward your membership to Frederick B. Richards, secretary, Glens Falls, N.Y.

October 25, 1932

LIZBETH H. WHITE

Historic newspaper and scrapbook images courtesy Lizbeth Halsey White Files, Southampton Historical Museum Archives and Research Center. 

Talmadge-Ruland | Wedding

Southampton Press

Thursday, October 27, 1932

Leroy & Edna Ruland, Charles, Amanda, & Mary Talmadge
c1945 Shinnecock | film still

Talmadge-Ruland

A very pretty wedding took place on Friday evening. October 21, at the home [on North Main Street] of Mr. and Mrs. [Edna Halsey] Leroy W. Ruland, when their daughter, Amanda Halsey, was united in marriage to Charles DeWitt Talmadge of East Hampton.

The ceremony was performed by the Rev. Jesse Halsey, D.D. pastor of the Seventh Church, Walnut Hills, Cincinnati, who was a near relative of the family and had come for the occasion. The bride wore a gown of ivory stain and carried white roses with lilies-of-the-valley and orchids. Her only attendant was her sister, Joanna, Mrs. Thomas Honnett, who wore a gown of turquoise blue and carried a bouquet of roses. The best man was Charles Frank Dayton of East Hampton. The bride was given away by her father and the ring was used in the marriage ceremony. The wedding march was played by Ralph Douglass.

The decorations were of Autumn leaves and laurel with chrysanthemums and roses. About forty guests were present, near relatives and few intimate friends of the families of the bride and bridegroom.

The wedding ceremony was performed at 8:30 o’clock after which a bountiful collation was served.

The bridal couple left by automobile for their wedding journey, after which they will reside in East Hampton, where they will be at home after November 15. They were the recipients of many beautiful gifts from friends who wish them joy and long-continued happiness.

"the past will be restored, the lost will be found"

Lizbeth May Halsey White

Lizbeth May Halsey White

Lizbeth Halsey White (6 Apr 1869 - 25 Oct 1932) was the sister of Harry, Abigail Fithian, and Rev. Jesse Halsey, daughter of Charles and Melvina. Lizbeth was 18 when her mother died, and for the six years following Melvina's death, Lizbeth helped her father tend the home, cared for her younger siblings, and worked on the farm. In 1892, when Lizbeth was 23, she married Edward White, then 27, and they and what would be their three children lived with Edward's parents, his uncle, three servants, and six or so boarders in the Old Post House a few blocks down Main Street from the Halsey family home in Southampton. Later, Abigail (Aunt Babbie) lived with Lizbeth and her family in the Post home, too, despite Jesse having built Abigail "the bungalow" behind the Halsey family home at 49 No. Main. Edward was a justice of the peace, as well as founder of the Southampton Colonial Society.

Edward Post White, Sr.

Lizbeth was the town historian of Southampton during the '20s and early '30s, the second person to hold said position and the first woman. The dedication page to Abigail Fithian Halsey's 1940 book "In Old Southampton," published by Columbia University Press and chronicling the history of the town of Southampton from its founding in the 1640s through its role in the Revolutionary War, reads:

MY SISTER, LIZBETH HALSEY WHITE
HISTORIAN OF THE TOWN OF SOUTHAMPTON 1923-1932
BEGAN THESE STORIES IN 1932
IT HAS BEEN A LABOR OF LOVE TO COMPLETE THE SERIES
IN HER MEMORY

Lizbeth with son Edward Post White, Jr. and Dorothy Pearson, March 1923
Cap'n Eddie and Dot were married in July 1924

From the memorial written by Robert Keene at Annual Meeting of Southampton Colonial Society, May 17, 2985:

Lizbeth White was the founding Regent of the local chapter of the Daughters of the American Revolution and it was Lizbeth White who was instrumental in bringing to the attention of the Town Board in 1928 the design of the Town Flag, as presented by the D.A.R. . . .
And it was Lizbeth who revealed that the first woman to step ashore at what was later to be called Conscience Point was Eleanor, the wife of the leader of the first settlers, Edward Howell.

In advocating for the creation of an organization dedicated to the preservation of historical landmarks in 1915, Lizbeth wrote:

"Many of our Town's most precious memorials have vanished forever. Our fathers were too busy planting and colonizing, wrestling life from hard conditions, to think much about leaving behind them personal souvenirs . . . Then into this repository let every native and every citizen take a pride in gathering whatever shall preserve the memory of the past or throw a light upon its life . . . Begin with today and work backward as fast as possible. Gradually the past will be restored, the lost will be found."

Photographs of Lizbeth and Edward Post White, courtesy of Con Crowley, from a collection of photos belonging to his grandfather, Captain Ed White, Jr. Apparently, Cap'n Eddie kept the photograph album with him at sea, as he spent a lifetime in the Navy, Merchant Marine, and Coast Guard.  

1910 United States Federal Census Record 
1930 United States Federal Census Record
Pedigree view for Lizbeth May Halsey White on Ancestry.com