The Rogerenes. John R. Bolles
an account, page 18, how that he was stirred up to this ordinance from those words, Acts xxii, 16, “And now why tarriest thou? arise and be baptized and wash away thy sins,” and that accordingly he was baptized by burying his body in the water.
As to the first institutor of this ordinance, we know that John the Baptist was the first practiser of it, therefore let us take his testimony as to the institutor of it, which is to be seen John i, 33, “And I knew Him not, but He that sent me to baptize with water, the same said unto me, upon whom thou shalt see the Spirit,” etc.
And here I suppose none but Peter Pratt will dare deny that it was God Almighty that instituted this ordinance and sent John the Baptist to administer it.
Having given a specimen of Peter Pratt’s poetical effusions, we will further entertain the reader with some verses by John Rogers, 2d, which precede his “Reply” to Pratt’s book:—
A POETICAL INQUIRY INTO WHAT ADVANTAGE P. PRATT COULD
PROMISE HIMSELF BY HIS LATE ENGAGEMENT WITH
A DEAD MAN.
I marvel that when Peter Pratt, in armor did appear,
He should engage, in such a rage, a man that’s dead three year.
Could he suppose for to disclose his valour in the field?
Or by his word, or wooden sword, to make his en’my yield?
Did he advance, thinking by chance, and taking so much pain,
To fright away a lump of clay, some honour for to gain?
Was his intent by argument, some honour for to have?
Or gain repute by making mute a man that’s in his grave?
Why did he strain his foolish brain, and muse upon his bed,
To study lies, for to despise a man when he is dead?
Why did he flout his venom out against the harmless dirt,
Which when alive did never strive to do the creature hurt?
No manly face, or Godly grace such actions will uphold,
Yet ’tis not new; apostates crew did do the like of old.
When Cain let in that dreadful sin which never can be pardoned,
He then did hate his loving mate, because he was so hardened.
Though Saul before did much adore his well-belovèd David,
Yet in the state that I relate his life he greatly cravèd.
In Judas we may also see another strange disaster,
Who for small gain did take such pain to sell his blessèd Master.
Apostates then, the vilest men, they’re always most forlorn;
Because such deeds from them proceeds which other men do scorn.
Such raging waves Satan depraves of all humanity;
They can embrace no saving grace, nor yet civility.
Had but this strife been in the life of his supposèd foe,
Then Peter Pratt would like a rat into a corner go;
Or flee apace, or hide his face, although that now he glories
To trample on one dead and gone, with his debauchèd stories.
A certain tribe of Indians would not allow the burial of any one until some person could speak a word in his praise. On one such occasion, silence long reigned, when a squaw arose and said, “He was a good smoker.” What can we say of Peter Pratt, that the right of sepulture may be granted him? This may be said: He at one time thought he had discovered the “wonderful art of longitude,” by which he expected to be made famous the world over, and presented his scheme to the faculty of Yale College, who regarded it as the product of an hallucinated mind. Upon this, Pratt gave up the fallacy, which should be spoken to his praise. The following testimony which he gave in his book regarding John Rogers, 2d, and incidentally in favor of John Rogers senior, should also be put to his credit:—
My near alliance to John Rogers (then junior) who is my brother, viz., the son of my mother, proved an unhappy snare to me. He being, naturally, a man as manly, wise, facetious and generous perhaps as one among a thousand, I was exceedingly delighted in and with his conversation. He also endeared himself to me very much by his repeated expressions of complacency in me, by which I was induced to be frequently in his company and often at his house, where his father would be entertaining me with exhortations to a religious life, warning me of the danger of sin, and certainty of that wrath which shall come on all that know not God. I would sometimes, for curiosity, be inquiring into his principles, and othertimes, for diversion, be disputing a point with him; but I knew not that the dead were there, Prov. ix, 18. I was not religious enough to be much concerned about his principles, but pitiful enough to be extremely moved with the story of his sufferings. I had also a reserve in his favor, that it was possible he might be a good man (the strangeness of his doctrine notwithstanding), especially seeing all his sufferings were not able to shake his constancy, or oblige him to recede from the least part of his religion.
And here a just tribute may be paid to John Rogers, 2d, from whom we have so largely quoted. The appreciative reader will agree with us in saying he was a son worthy of the father, in defence of whose honor he wrote. Clear in his statement of facts, conclusive in his reasoning, and abundantly supplied with authority in proof of his assertions, his words bear the sacred impress of truth. Malice has raised no aspersions against his character. “Notwithstanding,” says Miss Caulkins, “his long testimony and his many weary trials and imprisonments, he reared to maturity a family of eighteen children, most of them, like their parents, sturdy Rogerenes.” As soon as he was able to make choice for himself, about the age of sixteen, he left the home of his grandfather, Matthew Griswold of Lyme, the ancestor of many noted men, and chose to live with his father. His sister did the same thing at the age of fourteen, and was married at her father’s house. A purer, sweeter, and higher tribute could scarcely be paid to that heroic defender of religious liberty and great sufferer for conscience’ sake.
John Rogers, 2d, was the author of several other books besides his “Reply to Peter Pratt,” each of them being of the same able character.
CHAPTER V.
“Nine and twenty knives.”—Ezra i, 9. It would take more than that number of knives to sever the many threads of falsehood and malice wound about the name of John Rogers, a name that may yet emerge as the royal butterfly from its chrysalis, to dwell in the light and atmosphere of heaven.
We must now charge the Rev. Gurdon Saltonstall, governor of the State of Connecticut, and judge of its Superior Court, with concocting a plan whereby he and his ecclesiastical accomplices might incarcerate John Rogers in the Hartford jail, exclude him from the light, and hide him from the public thought. Had this nefarious scheme succeeded, Rogers would doubtless have been held a close prisoner for life; but he was apprised of it and enabled to make his escape, like as St. Paul was let down in a basket from the wall of Damascus to elude the fury of his enemies. The governor’s suit against him for slanderous words—not slanderous in law—for which a subservient jury awarded him damages in the sum of £600, proves with what malign purpose Roger’s conduct was watched by him.
Here follows an account of the above mentioned plot and other matters, in Roger’s own words, copied from his address to the civil authorities and particularly to Gov. Saltonstall, in which he recounts some of the atrocious wrongs he had received from them—wrongs which could hardly gain credence had they not been openly published at the time, during the life of Gov. Saltonstall, and not denied by him.
The last fine you fined me was ten shillings. All that I did was expounding upon a chapter in the Bible