Join us for conversations that inspire, recognize, and encourage innovation and best practices in the education profession.
Available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Google Podcasts, and more.
What characteristics of a literary work make it influential over time?
Video Comprehension Questions: What is new about Penn’s “Letter to the Lenni Lenape”? How does he view Native Americans? How is his attitude toward Native Americans different from the Puritans’ attitudes toward them?
Context Questions: What is typology? What events and institutions did the Puritans choose to understand typologically? How did typology help them make sense of the world and their position within it?
Exploratory Questions: Can you think of later, post-Puritan examples of jeremiads? Where can you see the influence of the jeremiad form in contemporary literature, culture, and politics? Why has the jeremiad remained a central component of the rhetoric of American public life?
How are American myths created, challenged, and reimagined in the literature of this period?
Video Comprehension Questions: What did John Winthrop mean when he proclaimed that New England would be “as a City on a Hill”? What benefits and responsibilities would such status incur for a community?
Context Questions: How did internal doubts and external enemies problematize and challenge the Puritans’ conception of their “sacred errand”? How did Native Americans and “witches” fit into the Puritans’ sense of their mission?
Exploratory Questions: How have Quaker beliefs and convictions influenced the development of American values?
What is American literature? What are the distinctive voices and styles in American literature? How do social and political issues influence the American canon?
Video Comprehension Questions: What are the characteristics of a jeremiad? How does Mary Rowlandson’s text function as a jeremiad?
Context Questions: Why do you think Louise Erdrich chose to reimagine Mary Rowlandson’s experience in her poem “Captivity”? How does Erdrich’s poem both draw from and challenge Rowlandson’s narrative?
Exploratory Questions: Why do you think the Puritans, more than any other early immigrant group, have historically been considered the starting point for the United States’s national culture? Why did leaders such as John F. Kennedy and Ronald Reagan choose to invoke John Winthrop’s “City on a Hill” image in their late-twentieth-century speeches?
For the Puritans, anticipation of God’s final judgment had relevance not just to the individual but to the community as a whole — and as a collective, they were far more confident about their spiritual status. Extending the notion of the covenant to the group, they operated under the conviction that they were the “chosen people of God,” or the “New Israel,” sent to New England to bring about the Kingdom of Christ on earth. Within the context of biblical history, they understood themselves to be living in the “end time” as it is prophesied in the Book of Revelation, with Christ’s Second Coming near at hand. All around them, comets, eclipses, and other “wonders” pointed to the imminence of the Final Judgment. Puritan ministers performed complex analyses of scriptural predictions in order to pinpoint the exact day that New England would herald the Apocalypse, the time at which Christ would return and reign for a thousand years. According to the Puritans, this millennium would usher in the end of history: the earth would be destroyed, the elect would be ushered into heaven, and all others would be cast into hell.
The centrality of millennial apocalyptic beliefs to Puritan culture can be indexed by the extraordinary popularity of Michael Wigglesworth’s poem “The Day of Doom.” With its terrifying images of hellfire and damnation and its stern accounts of God’s wrathfulness, the poem might seem grim and unappealing to modern readers. But Wigglesworth’s lengthy verse description of the Apocalypse was a bestseller among seventeenth-century Puritans; scholars estimate that after its publication in 1662, one copy existed for every twenty-five New Englanders. Many Puritans were apparently moved to learn its 224 eight-line stanzas by heart. As the title indicates, the action takes place on Judgment Day, when a vengeful Christ divides humanity into two groups: the righteous sheep at his right hand and the sinful goats at his left. The goats’ wickedness and religious heresy are exposed, and they are condemned to a burning lake in hell. The poem graphically describes the horrific punishments awaiting the non-elect:
With iron bands they bind their hands,
and cursed feet together,
And cast them all, both great and small,
into that lake forever.
Where day and night, without respite,
they wail, and cry, and howl,
For tort’ring pain, which they sustain
in body and in soul.
With its plain language and catchy rhyme scheme, “The Day of Doom” functioned for Puritans as a kind of “verse catechism,” useful for teaching basic theological tenets. It frequently was employed to instruct children, who would thus grow up with a thorough understanding — however terrifying such knowledge might have been to them — of the coming Apocalypse. In this cultural climate, death was approached with both fear and ecstatic expectancy, for it could bring either eternal torment or admittance to everlasting paradise. Only upon death could Puritans finally resolve the spiritual uncertainty that dominated their lives: death offered final and incontrovertible proof of their spiritual identity as either sheep or goats. The importance of death within Puritan culture is signaled by the attention they gave to funerary customs, including the carving of tombstones. Prior to the mid-1650s, Puritans usually left graves unmarked or indicated them only by simple wooden markers. Such non-decorative practices accorded with Puritans’ rejection of all religious imagery as idolatrous “graven images” such as the Bible forbade. But by the 1660s, Puritans’ preoccupation with death led them to erect elaborately carved gravestones decorated with symbolic images and engraved with language that both commemorated the deceased individual and expressed orthodox ways of understanding human mortality. Typical gravestone iconography ranged from traditional symbols of the transitory nature of earthly existence (skulls, skeletons, hourglasses, scythes) to emblems suggesting the possibility of resurrection and regeneration (wings, birds, flowers, trees, the sun). Eventually, gravestones also came to include representations of cherubs and human forms.
One of the most common images found on early Puritan gravestones is the winged death’s-head, prominent on the pediment of the Joseph Tapping stone (Boston, 1678). At first glance, the image seems grim and despairing, a visual corollary to the Latin inscriptions on the lower right panel of the stone (Vive Memor Loethi and Fugit Hora, or “Live mindful of death” and “Time is fleeting”). Yet the wings attached to the death’s-head suggest the possibility of resurrection and ascension to heaven, thus pictorially signifying the conceptual duality of Puritan attitudes toward death as both a fearful event and a potential means to eternal salvation. The architectural symbolism of columns and tablets on the Reverend Abraham Nott stone (Essex, Connecticut, 1756) similarly functions as a visual emblem of apocalyptic thinking, suggesting the rebuilding of the temple and the Second Coming of Christ as it is prophesied in Revelation. With their iconographic fusion of religious and aesthetic values, gravestones offer important evidence about the interrelationship of spiritual concerns and attitudes toward death in Puritan culture.
Questions
Archive
[2121] Anonymous, Goffe Rallying the men of Hadley (1883),
courtesy of the Library of Congress [LC-USZ62-75122].
Indian attacks on villages in western Massachusetts during King Philip’s War challenged the viability of English settlement in New England and led many to question why they had fallen so far from God’s favor and to wonder whether the Apocalypse was near.
[3370] Anonymous, The Rebekah Gerrish Stone (1743),
courtesy of Wesleyan University Press.
This stone depicts the conflict between time and death: a candle is flanked by a skeleton on the left, about to snuff out the fire, and a winged angel on the right, with an hourglass in hand, making a prohibitive gesture toward the skeleton. This dispute reflects the dual nature of time and Judgment found in Wigglesworth’s “Day of Doom” and the more concrete dualism of the Apocalypse: some will be sent to hell and some to heaven.
[4427] John Stevens, The Mary Carr Stone (1721),
courtesy of Wesleyan University Press.
The Mary Carr Stone, in Old Common Burying-ground in Newport, Rhode Island, reads “Here lyeth the Body of Mary the Wife of John Carr, Dyed Sepr; ye 28th: 1721: in ye 21st: year of her age.” The carving was made by the elder Stevens, a carver known for both the quality and the innovativeness of his work. The stone’s imagery emphasizes rebirth. The sides and bottom feature intricate leaf patterns, pilasters, rosettes: flower and leaves were associated with the life of man (Job 14) and fecundity. At the top is a cherub with wings, and at the base is a pair of peacocks, symbols of immortality.
[4433] Michael Wigglesworth, The Day of Doom. Or, A Short Description of the Great and Last Judgment. With a Short Discourse about Eternity. By Michael Wigglesworth. The Seventh Edition, Enlarged. With a recommendatory epistle (in verse) by the Rev. Mr. John Mitchel (1715),
courtesy of the Tracy W. McGregor Library of American History, University of Virginia.
Originally published in 1662, this New England bestseller was often memorized by the pious: by 1715 it was already in its seventh edition. The poem tells of the coming of Christ on judgment day and the separating of the sheep (saved) from the goats (unsaved). A jeremiad, the text uses fire and brimstone to encourage sinful readers to repent.
Many Puritans who arrived in New England were convinced that the Indians they encountered represented remnants of the “Lost Tribes of Israel,” a part of God’s nation of chosen people that had gone astray and needed to be converted and saved. This belief was in fact one of the central premises of the Massachusetts Bay Colony charter: its colonial seal featured a picture of a Native American uttering the words “Come over and help us.” Such imagery enabled the Puritan fantasy that Native Americans were voluntarily inviting them to North America, where they were anxiously awaiting the colonists’ charity and spiritual instruction. In practice, Native Americans found that Puritan conversion practices could be extremely coercive and culturally insensitive. For Indians, accepting Christianity generally involved giving up their language, severing kinship ties with other Indians who had not been “saved,” and abandoning their traditional homes to live in European-style “Praying Towns.” Many Native Americans were understandably hostile toward Puritan missionaries, perceiving their work as a threat to Indian social bonds and cultural practices. Except for the persistence of a few zealous missionaries like John Eliot, Puritans’ enthusiasm for proselytizing among the natives had waned by the late seventeenth century.
Puritan-Indian relations were further troubled by recurring disagreements over land use and land rights. Part of the problem stemmed from the groups’ fundamentally different attitudes toward land ownership. To the New England Indians, “selling” land did not mean granting exclusive, perpetual ownership to the buyer; instead, it involved accepting a new neighbor and sharing resources. The Puritans, on the other hand, were committed to the notion of private property and expected Native Americans immediately and permanently to vacate their land upon its sale. Some Puritan settlers felt that they were entitled to Native American land because, in their view, the Indians were squandering the land’s potential by failing to enclose it or to farm it in the English manner. The problems inevitably caused by these radically different concepts of land use and land ownership were compounded by the Puritans’ increasing conviction that the Indians’ claims were invalid anyway, because God intended to bestow New England upon the English. By 1676, the minister Increase Mather wrote confidently about the Puritans’ property rights over “the Heathen People amongst whom we live, and whose Land the Lord God of our Fathers has given to us for a rightful possession.”
As Mather’s rhetoric makes clear, many Puritans saw Indians less as “the Lost Tribes” than as irredeemable “heathens.” Shifting the biblical context through which they understood the Native Americans, Puritans likened them to the Canaanites or Amalekites, heathen peoples whom God sent as a scourge to test the nation of Israel and whose extermination was necessary for the fulfillment of his divine plan. This antagonistic perspective on the part of the Puritans enabled what critic Richard Slotkin calls “a new mythology of Puritan-Indian relationships in which war and exorcism replaced tutelage and conversion.” As early as 1636, the English settlers engaged in a genocidal campaign to wipe out the Pequot tribe. In Of Plymouth Plantation, William Bradford described the carnage wrought by the Puritans as a “sweet sacrifice” and “gave the praise thereof to God, who had wrought so wonderfully.” Captain John Underhill also chronicled the Pequot War in his News from America (1638), providing a sketch of the Puritans, along with their Narragansett allies, encircling and destroying a Pequot village. Puritan-Indian hostilities erupted again in 1676 with King Philip’s War, one of the most devastating wars (in proportion to population) in American history. Former Puritan allies like the Narragansetts banded together with other Algonquian tribes to oppose the English. In her narrative of captivity among the Indians during King Philip’s War, Mary Rowlandson frequently employs standard Puritan demonizing rhetoric, calling her captors “infidels,” “hell-hounds,” and “savages,” and insisting that they are a “scourge” sent by God to chasten and test his chosen people. She reserves a special hatred for Native Americans who had experienced Christian conversion (the “Praying Indians”); in her view, they were nothing but hypocrites. Still, tensions and contradictions mark Rowlandson’s narrative; she comes to see some Indians as individuals capable of humanity and charity, thus complicating her black-and-white worldview. English victories in both the Pequot War and King Philip’s war, combined with the ravaging effects of European diseases like smallpox, resulted in the depletion of Native American populations in New England and enabled Puritans to seize most remaining Indian lands in the region by the early eighteenth century.
Unfortunately, we do not have extensive records of Indian/Puritan encounters during the seventeenth century composed from a Native American perspective. But some written accounts, pictographs, archaeological evidence, and transcriptions of oral traditions survive to give an indication of what Indians thought about the English settlers in New England. Some of the most interesting records remain from Natick, an Indian “Praying Town” east of Boston. Established in 1651 by missionary John Eliot, Natick consisted of English-style homesteads, three streets, a bridge across the Charles River, as well as a meetinghouse, which housed a school, and the governing body. The Indian residents of Natick were taught to read and write in their native language of Massachuset, using letters from the Roman alphabet. In 1988, anthropologists Kathleen Bragdon and Goddard Ives translated the town records from Natick into English and published an accompanying grammar for the Massachuset language under the title Native Writings in Massachusett. Our understanding of native lives and the Algonquian view of conquest has been further enhanced by Williams Simmons’s ground-breaking collection of Algonquian oral tradition from southeastern New England, The Spirit of New England Tribes, and Indian Converts (1727), and Experience Mayhew’s biographies of four generations of Wampanoag men, women, and children from the island of Martha’s Vineyard. These documents suggest that Indian converts often adapted Christianity to suit their needs and to face the trials of conquest, rather than merely being transformed into “Red Puritans.”
In the colony of Pennsylvania, William Penn and the Quakers demonstrated that Indian-European relations did not have to be based on intolerance or violence toward native cultures. Initiating contact with the Delaware in his “Letter to the Lenni Lenape,” Penn showed respect for Native American culture, pledged to treat Native Americans as equals, and acknowledged their land rights. The Pennsylvania seal provides a telling contrast to the seal of the Massachusetts Bay Colony, revealing important differences in the two colonies’ attitudes toward and treatment of Native Americans. Rather than depicting the Indians as inferior beings in need of help, the Pennsylvania seal offers an image of harmony and equality: a Native American and a European share a pipe, while the motto proclaims “Let us look to the Most High who blessed our fathers with peace.” Under Penn’s leadership, the Quakers were scrupulously fair in their negotiations of land deals with Native Americans. The wampum belt featured in the archive, which functioned within Delaware culture as a kind of land deed, testifies to the Quakers’ willingness to participate in and respect Indian cultural practices. As a result of their commitment to tolerance and mutual respect, the Quakers and Indians lived in peace in Pennsylvania for over half a century.
Archive
[1210] John Underhill, The Figure of the Indians’ Fort or Palizado in New England and the Manner of Destroying It by Captayne Underhill and Captayne Mason (1638),
courtesy of the Library of Congress [LC-USZ62-32055].
In 1636, the English settlers engaged in a campaign to wipe out the Pequot tribe. Captain John Underhill chronicled the Pequot War in his News from America (1638), providing this sketch of the Puritans, along with their Narragansett allies, encircling and destroying a Pequot village.
[2583] The First Seal of Massachusetts Bay Colony (1629),
courtesy of the Massachusetts Bay Secretary of the Commonwealth, Public Records Division.
The Massachusetts Bay Colony’s official seal features a Native American uttering the words “Come over and help us.” The “help” requested is the gift of the Gospel, as explained by John Winthrop in his “Reasons to be considered for iustifieing the undertakers of the intended Plantation in New England.”
[2825] William Hubbard, The Present State of New England. Being a Narrative of the Troubles with the Indians in New-England (1677),
courtesy of Special Collections, the University of Pennsylvania Library.
Like Mary Rowlandson’s captivity narrative, this history of King Philip’s War views Native Americans as agents of Satan who have been sent to test the Puritans. It includes one of the early maps of New England.
[2850] Brass medal given Christian Indians as a reward for service,
courtesy of the National Museum of the American Indian, Smithsonian Institution, N38319/N38320. Photo by Carmelo Guadagno.
Christianized Indians fought on both the Native and the British sides in King Philip’s War, which led to confusion on the part of colonists as to who was a “good” and who was a “bad” Indian. Brass medals were awarded to those who served the British.
[5054] Gleasons Pictorial, In Honor of the Birthday of Governor John Winthrop, Born June 12th, 1587 (1854),
courtesy of the Library of Congress [LC-USZ62-120506].
Woodprint engraving of head-and-shoulders portrait of Governor John Winthrop, flanked by statues of a Native American (left) and a pilgrim (right) and with a homestead below.
[5214] Iroquois Wampum belt,
courtesy of the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology.
Wampum, usually found in bead form and made from Quahog shells found along the southern New England coast, was an important item for exchange and political dealings among Indians; after European settlement, it came to resemble a type of currency.
[6326] Jean Leon Gerome Ferris, The First Thanksgiving 1621 (1932),
courtesy of the Library of Congress [LC-USZ62-15915].
The Thanksgiving holiday has gained mythic status through representations of the event as a critical occasion of the Plymouth colony.
Tied to their typological understanding of their communal identity was the Puritans’ belief that they had entered into a covenant with God. Like the Old Testament Hebrews, the Puritans felt themselves to be a “chosen nation,” a people through whom God would fulfill his divine plan on earth. Their covenant, however, was not the same as the Old Testament covenant God had formed with the Israelites. The coming of Christ had changed the terms of the contract, enabling them to live under a “covenant of grace.” According to this doctrine, God had freely extended salvation to the Puritans, salvation that did not have to be earned through good works, only accepted with faith. Right behavior would follow from acceptance of and faith in the covenant. On an individual level, Puritans agonized over the status of their covenant with God (that is, their election), but as a group they were more confident. Having entered into voluntary church covenants, and thus into a kind of national covenant with God, they were assured of the centrality of their role in the cosmic drama of God’s plan. Like the Israelites of old, they had received a “special commission” from God and had come to the New World to fulfill their mission.
The typological implications of the Puritans’ covenant theology are apparent in “A Model of Christian Charity,” the sermon John Winthrop delivered on board the Arbella while traveling to New England. Proclaiming that “the God of Israel is among us” and has formed a “near bond of marriage between him and us, wherein he hath taken us to be his,” Winthrop interprets the Puritans as the antitype of the Old Testament Jews. His famous declaration that New England shall be “as a City upon a Hill” elevates the Puritan community to the status of an exemplary society with the potential to fulfill scriptural prophecies. The same typological worldview that characterizes Winthrop’s speech also moved the Puritans to name some of the settlements they created in the New World after scriptural references; New Canaan and New Haven, for example.
As the Puritan community grew and changed, it became clear that typological interpretations were neither stable nor uniform. Different people could interpret events as having different kinds of typological significance, sometimes to ends that Puritan leaders considered unorthodox or subversive. During the divisive Antinomian Controversy (1637), for example, John Winthrop and Anne Hutchinson engaged in a kind of war of rival typological interpretations. During her trial, Hutchinson interpreted herself as the Old Testament figure of Daniel and the Puritan court as the lion’s den: she claimed that God had told her that just as he “delivered Daniel out of the lion’s den, I will also deliver thee.” Seeing her own trial as the antitype of Daniel’s encounter with the lions, she declared to the court that they would see “this scripture fulfilled this day.” John Winthrop was outraged by this reading of events, sarcastically noting that if Hutchinson’s typologizing were to be believed, “she must be delivered by miracle, and all we must be ruined.” He went on to impose his own typological interpretation of Hutchinson’s role in the fulfillment of biblical prophecy: “One would hardly have guessed her to have been an Antitype of Daniel, but rather of the Lions after they were let loose.”
Despite these internal skirmishes over proper typologizing, Puritan leaders found that their typological interpretations of external threats, by uniting their congregants in a shared spiritual mission, could serve as an effective method for consolidating the community. For instance, Puritans justified their seizure of Native American lands and their wars against Native Americans by typologizing Indians as “Amalekites” or “Canaanites,” heathen peoples whom God sent as a scourge to test the nation of Israel and whose extermination was necessary for the fulfillment of his divine plan. In this way, Puritans marshaled biblical typology to legitimate their destruction of Indian culture. Typologizing opposition and challenges as “tests,” “scourges,” or “punishments” sent by God allowed Puritans to read even their misfortunes as paradoxical proofs of God’s love and of their status as his “chosen people.” After all, they reasoned, God would not bother chastising or testing them if he did not view them as special. In her narrative of her captivity, Mary Rowlandson struggles to understand an experience that would otherwise have been inexplicably frightening and horrific as evidence of God’s chastising hand, at first disciplining and ultimately delivering her. Rowlandson’s story of holy affliction and deliverance touched a chord with the entire Puritan community. Ministers such as Increase Mather determined to read her individual experience as a communal lesson: God had not tested and punished Rowlandson alone; he had tested and punished the Puritan nation through her. In this way, Rowlandson herself functions as a type of the Old Testament judea capta, or Israel in bondage. Her purifying ordeal in the wilderness reflects God’s punishment of the “New Israel” for its sins. Her redemption from captivity reflects New England’s reinstatement in God’s favor.
Of course, her narrative also offers evidence that typology provided Rowlandson with a more personal, individualized kind of comfort. She articulates her suffering through the words of Old Testament figures, drawing strength from understanding her own experience through theirs. Likening herself to Job, the good servant of God who is afflicted by a bewildering set of misfortunes in order to test the depth of his faith, Rowlandson seeks comfort in the notion that God’s ways are beyond human understanding, but that his servants must remain patient and faithful. Like Rowlandson’s narrative, the Eliakim Hayden gravestone (Essex, Connecticut, 1797) offers an example of typology applied to the individual life. The carved design of the stone shows Noah’s ark, floating on the floodwaters, while a dove flies overhead with a cross in the background. Puritans understood the Old Testament story of Noah as a prefiguring, or type, of Christ, and the flood as a type of baptism. The cross and the dove carved on the stone, then, serve as antitypes representing Christ offering salvation for Adam’s original sin. The epitaph clarifies the typological imagery: “As in Adame, all mankinde / Did guilt and death derive / So by the Righteousness of Christ / Shall all be made alive.” Implicitly including Hayden’s life within its typological reading, his soul is clearly one that has been “made alive” through Christ, the gravestone iconographically invokes biblical prophecy and folds the Puritan individual into its scriptural schema.
Archive
[1243] Peter Pelham, PORTRAIT OF COTTON MATHER (1728),
courtesy of the Library of Congress [LC-USZ62-92308].
This portrait of Cotton Mather was composed in the year of his death, 1728. The grandson of John Cotton and the eldest son of Increase Mather, Cotton Mather became the foremost theologian of his generation. Recognized as the most passionate defender of the centrality of the traditional Puritan authority in a world becoming increasingly secular, Mather is often blamed for the religious hysteria that spawned the Salem witch trials.
[6324] Sarony & Major, THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIMS ON PLYMOUTH ROCK, DEC. 11TH 1620 (1846),
courtesy of the Library of Congress [LC-USZC4-4311].
Although no evidence directly links the Mayflower‘s 1620 landing to Plymouth Rock, this location has come to represent the birthplace of English settlement in New England.
[7181] Michael Colacurcio, THE PURITANS AND BIBLICAL TYPOLOGY (2001),
courtesy of Annenberg Media.
“I think the most common and widespread Puritan investment in typology is the question of whether their own experiment was predicted biblically. Whether the end of all history was, in fact, some kind of metaphorical Zion, a new heaven and a new earth that might be the equivalent of New England, rather than any state of Israel that we now recognize.” Michael J. Colacurcio, professor of American literary and intellectual history to 1900 (UCLA) is the author of Doctrine and Difference: Essays in the Literature of New England.
Implicit in the language of “weaned affections” is the imagery of breastfeeding, nursing, and weaning. In fact, Puritan ministers frequently employed breast and breastfeeding imagery in their sermons and poetry, appropriating this female bodily function as a metaphor for proper spiritual nourishment and dependence upon God. In the Puritans’ symbolic understanding, the Bible was spiritual milk, and the minister was the breast at which his congregation suckled. Male ministers were comfortable figuring themselves as feminine “breasts” because the metaphor granted them a kind of spiritual, parental authority as vessels for God’s word and providers of sustenance for their congregants. The Peter and Mary Tufts gravestone (Malden, Massachusetts, 1702) exemplifies the willingness of Puritan men to appropriate breast imagery to spiritual ends, featuring an obviously male, mustached figure with breasts.
Puritan children were taught from an early age about the importance of renouncing earthly nourishment and affection in favor of “spiritual milk.” One of the first texts written and printed for an audience of children, John Cotton’s Spiritual Milk for Babes, Drawn Out of the Breasts of Both Testaments for their Souls Nourishment (England, 1646; Boston, 1656), emphasized the doctrine of weaned affections. Spiritual Milk offered a formal catechism for children to memorize, imparting a sense of the corruption and depravity of the earthly human condition through a series of ritualized questions and answers:
Q: Are you then born a Sinner?
A: I was conceived in sin, and born in iniquity.
Q: What is your Birth-sin?
A: Adam’s sin imputed to me, and a corrupt nature dwelling in me.
Q: What is your corrupt nature?
A: My corrupt nature is empty of Grace, bent unto sin, and only unto sin, and that continually.
Cotton’s Spiritual Milk was often included in the New England Primer, a popular Puritan textbook designed to promote children’s literacy and religious training. The Primer itself worked to instill in children a sense of the transitory nature of earthly existence and the necessity of focusing on spiritual concerns. Teaching the alphabet through moral aphorisms, the Primer preached “G: As runs the Glass / Man’s life doth pass” and “Y: Youth forward slips / Death soonest nips.” Puritans thus learned early that, since life on earth was fleeting, they should not become attached to things of this world and should instead reserve their most intense affections for the spiritual realm.
Archive
[1219] Anonymous, The Mason Children: David, Joanna, Abigail (1670),
courtesy of Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco, gift of Mr. and Mrs. John D. Rockefeller 3rd, 1979.7.3.
This rare early New England portrait of children offers insight into the merchant class. Children were considered small, sinful adults–hence the adult head-to-body ratio, clothing, and posture. The lack of sensuality reflects the religious mores and plain style of the time.
[1355] Joseph Badger, Faith Savage Waldo (ca. 1750),
courtesy of the Worcester Art Museum, Worcester, Massachusetts.
Originally a house, ship, and sign painter, Joseph Badger took up portraiture in Boston around 1745. Here Faith Savage Waldo (Mrs. Cornelius Waldo, 1683-1760) holds a book, perhaps signaling her piety as well as her social position, which is reinforced by the quality of her dress and drapes.
[4643] Anonymous, Detail of the left panel of the Peter and Mary Tufts Stone, Malden, Massachusetts (1702),
courtesy of Wesleyan University.
This detail from the Peter and Mary Tufts gravestone, erected in Malden, Massachusetts, around 1702, features a male figure with breasts. Puritan ministers frequently employed breast and breastfeeding imagery in their sermons and poetry, appropriating this female bodily function as a metaphor for proper spiritual nourishment and dependence upon God.
[6749] Anonymous, New England Primer (1807),
courtesy of the Gettsyburg College Special Collections.
The New England Primer (first published in Boston in 1690) was a popular Puritan textbook designed to promote children’s literacy and religious training.
[7179] Emory Elliot, Interview: “Winthrop and the Puritan Motivations for Settlement” (2001),
courtesy of Annenberg Media.
Elliott, professor of English (University of California, Riverside), discusses John Winthrop and the rallying of the Puritans to work together.
Early Quaker and Puritan church architecture provide perhaps the clearest examples of the ideals of plain style, since these buildings are conspicuously free of the stained glass and carved and painted religious decorations we tend to expect in houses of worship. Instead, Puritan and Quaker meetinghouses are consciously spare, defined by their linear design, exposure of structural supports, and open lighting. The unpretentious interiors have no carvings or altars (Quaker meetinghouses would not even have pulpits), creating unadorned spaces that allow congregants to concentrate on their individual relationships with God. These structures express the ideals of plain style and serve as examples of a distinctly American architecture.
Some seventeenth-century American paintings also reveal the influence of the plain-style aesthetic. The portraits of the Freake family painted by an unidentified Boston artist in the 1670s are characterized by a flatness of form and a precise linearity that render the human figures somewhat two-dimensional and deprive the subjects of sensuous, tactile qualities. While the portraits’ depiction of the rich fabrics and expensive finery that mark the Freakes as a wealthy mercantile family is somewhat at odds with Puritan plain-style ideals, the flat, simple artistic style of the paintings shares in the plain-style aesthetic.
Plain-style ideals also shaped the development of literature among Puritan and Quaker writers. Though many Puritans used elaborate, highly ornate metaphorical language to convey their religious ideals, some developed a more simplified literary style (most famously William Bradford). Characterized by the absence of rhetorical flourishes and limited use of figurative language, texts composed in the plain-style tradition focus on making their meanings straightforward and accessible. When metaphors appear within plain-style texts, they usually derive from the Bible or refer to homely, everyday objects rather than classical allusions. But the restraint of plain-style writing does not signify a lack of artistry; rather, it can be elegant, powerful, and persuasive in its very simplicity.
Archive
[1223] Anonymous, John Freake (1671-74),
courtesy of the Worcester Art Museum, Worcester, Massachusetts.
The unknown artist called the “Freake Painter” painted this likeness of John Freake, a Boston merchant. Like the other works attributed to the Freake Painter (scholars have identified a group of eight portraits painted in or near Boston in 1670-74), this painting is defined by its intricate detail, in combination with a rigidity in the subject’s posture. John Freake’s upright stiffness suggests his high moral stature as a public figure in the spiritual community of Boston.
[1351] Anonymous, Elizabeth Clarke Freake (Mrs. John Freake) and Baby Mary (about 1671 and 1674),
courtesy of Worcester Art Museum, Worcester, Massachusetts.
Between 1671 and 1674, an unidentified artist known as the “Freake Painter” painted this portrait of Elizabeth and Mary Freake, the wife and daughter of Boston merchant and lawyer John Freake. The original 1671 painting depicted Elizabeth alone with her hands in her lap, holding a fan. Baby Mary was added in 1674, an addition that accentuates Elizabeth’s virtue as a wife and mother.
[2793] The Quaker Meeting,
courtesy of George Fox University.
Quaker churches like this one are plain-style buildings defined by their linear design, exposure of structural supports, and open lighting. These unpretentious interiors have no altars or pulpits, creating unadorned spaces that allow congregants to concentrate on their individual relationship with God. Illustration from Sydney George Fisher, The True William Penn. (Philadelphia: J. B. Lippincott, 1899).
[4475] Old Ship Church, 88 Main Street, Hingham, Plymouth County, Massachusetts, Interior (1681),
courtesy of the Library of Congress [HABS, MASS,12-HING,5-].
The Old Ship Church is named for the interior curve of the roof, which resembles a ship’s hull. It is the oldest meetinghouse in continuous ecclesiastical use in the United States.
“”How can I get my students to think?” is a question asked by many faculty, regardless of their disciplines. Problem-based learning (PBL) is an instructional method that challenges students to “learn to learn,” working cooperatively in groups to seek solutions to real world problems. These problems are used to engage students’ curiosity and initiate learning the subject matter. PBL prepares students to think critically and analytically, and to find and use appropriate learning resources.” — Barbara Duch, University of Delaware